Forwarded by the ASC-VSO 
Posted: 7 Jan 2004 15:16:14 -0800  
In: alt.startrek.creative 
From: shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk (shouldknowbetter) 
 

Title: Repercussions
Series: ENT
Begins with "A Logical Proposal"  "Repercussions'" is sixth in
the series
Part: 3/3 Story 19/34 Series
Author:  ShouldKnowBetter
Email:   shouldknowbettertt@yahoo.co.uk
Rating:       PG-13
Codes:  Tu/T, all "Enterprise" characters, Soval, Shran, action,
drama, angst
Summary: A planet holds unexpected treasure for Enterprise's crew.
REPERCUSSIONS

Part Three



The nameless ensign at the science station watched the telemetry from
the probe attentively, intensely aware that he had a very senior
engineer at his shoulder.  "Still transmitting, sir."  That quite
unnecessary report was brought on by nervousness alone and he clamped
his teeth together a moment later.  Commander Tucker didn't suffer
fools gladly, even on a good day.

"We lost contact with the shuttle pod at 2km."  Tucker's usually drawl
was missing.  "Hold the probe just above that altitude."

"Aye, sir.  Holding at … 2.1km."

"Anything?"

"No, sir.  All readings are steady."

"Drop another 50m."

"Aye, sir."  He obeyed then began to sweat.  "Sir, I'm having trouble
controlling the probe."

Tucker crossed to view the telemetry of the probe's internal status, a
frown forming.  "It's losing power.  Pull it up again."

"Sir.  It's responding.  Handling normally now."

"Power's back up."  That was said quietly, almost to himself. 
"Ensign, take the probe back down again."  He watched the power
fluctuations re-commence.  "That's it.  There's something down there
that inhibits power generation."

"What should I do with the probe, sir?"

"Bring it back.  No sense losing that too."  Tucker's eyes were still
focussed on the telemetry results, a hand kneading the back of his
neck when Sato turned to look.

"You think the shuttle pod lost power, sir?"

"Yeah."  The engineer wasn't paying her much attention.

"What would happen to it?"

"It'd crash."

Sato winced.  "Will the away team be all right?"

Tucker shrugged, strangely unmoved; there were too many other things
to worry about at the moment.  "Probably.  If Travis had the right
angle and enough speed he could get it down."

"What can we do, sir?"

He didn't answer her, looking around at the tactical station.  "Bring
the phase cannons on-line."



Archer was woken the next morning by a confused and suspicious armoury
officer.  "Malcolm!  Are you OK?"

"Of course.  Captain, where are we?"

"What's the last thing you remember, Llieutenant?"

"We were on Enterprise, following a warp trail."  The Englishman
frowned.  "Did we find a planet?"

"That's right.  You came down in a shuttle pod with me, Travis and
T'Pol, but we lost power and crashed.  You had a bad concussion and,"
he looked doubtfully at the man's hands, "a broken wrist."

"Did I?"  Reed waggled both experimentally.  "Which one?"

"The right."

"Feel fine.  What happened, sir?"

"Some of the natives turned up and brought us here to treat your
injuries."

"Must have done a good job."

"Yes.  Apparently with 16th century technology."

"Sir?"

"Let's have a look around, Malcolm.  There's something not right
here."  Archer nodded to  Mayweather who had joined them.  "Travis,
you stay here with T'Pol.  We won't be long."

"Was the sub-commander injured too, sir?" Reed asked and Archer shook
his head, grimacing.

"No.  This is something else."  She had awoken a couple of times in
the night, crying and shaking, but for the last four hours or more she
had appeared to be sleeping soundly; extremely soundly.  "Let's go,
lieutenant."

They were at the door when the woman from the previous night appeared,
a loaded tray in her hands.  She smiled warmly at Reed, placed the
tray on a table and began to usher them into seats around it.  Archer
hesitated then caught Reed's rueful look.  "I am quite peckish, sir. 
Could we scout around after breakfast?"

‘An army marches on its stomach', Archer reminded himself, and joined
his officers at the table.  The fresh bread did smell wonderful.  The
woman served them then picked up a dish of fruit and crossed to kneel
beside T'Pol, shaking her firmly.  Archer considered protesting then
thought better of it as the science officer stirred sluggishly; she
couldn't sleep all the time.

That did appear to be the Vulcan woman's aim, but the other chivvied
her remorselessly until she was sitting up then thrust the bowl of
fruit at her.  T'Pol stared listlessly at it but was forced to take it
or end up with a lapful of fruit.  Still concerned, Archer swallowed
the last of his bread and came to crouch beside her.  "How are you
feeling, sub-commander?"

She blinked at him.  "Tired.  Where is …"  Then she frowned and stared
down at the bowl in her hands.

"Trip's on Enterprise," he said gently, fairly sure that was the
answer to the question she had started to ask.  "We'll get you back to
him just as soon as we can find out what's blocking communications
with the ship."

Beside them, the silver haired woman tapped T'Pol's hand and pointed
firmly at the bowl.  The Vulcan looked back and then shook her head,
placing the bowl on the floor.  "I am not hungry," and she yawned,
surprising Archer who had never seen such a reaction from her before.

The other alien tut-tutted again and produced a hinged series of
wooden tablets from her belt, the insides of which appeared to be
filled with wax.  She laid them on the floor in front of T'Pol and
began to draw with a pointed stylus.  The figures were crude but the
first was obviously female and the stylus indicated it and then
pointed to T'Pol.  ‘You' seemed fairly obvious.  The second figure was
male and the woman pointed to Archer then shook her head, smiling a
little at T'Pol's glare.

"I think it's meant to be Trip," Archer offered helpfully, remembering
the pantomime of the previous night and was impatiently waved to
silence as T'Pol was viewed encouragingly.

"Charles," she said at last, clearly unwilling.  "His name is
Charles."

Archer fought desperately to restrain sudden and inappropriate
laughter.  Tucker hated his given name or so he'd always claimed. 
Perhaps he just saved it for special occasions; and people.

It seemed that Archer did not suppress his amusement as successfully
as he thought for he got a severe look from both women, although when
they looked back to each other, the older one's look was kind as she
carefully drew a dotted line from the head of one figure to the other.

T'Pol averted her head.  "It is not possible."  The other tapped the
dotted line emphatically, insistent, and the science officer rose to
her feet although she swayed alarmingly.  "It cannot happen!"

Archer caught an arm and guided her to a bench where she promptly
curled up, eyes closing.  He frowned down at her and turned to see a
very similar expression on the other woman's face before she shrugged
and left.

"What was that all about?" Reed questioned and Archer was forced to
shrug too.

"I really have no idea."

"Was she saying that the sub-commander needs Trip?"

The captain sighed; it looked like the couple's desire for secrecy was
well and truly blown.  "It looks like it."

"I really thought she'd have better taste."

Archer had to smile.  "I guess not.  Come on, lieutenant, let's go
take a look around."



"Again."  Tucker's tone didn't leave room for debate.  "Make it a
sustained burst this time."

"Commander Tucker," the man at tactical said tentatively, just as wary
of his boss's likely wrath if he allowed one of the tactical systems
to be misused as of the chief engineer, "the emitters are starting to
overheat.  A sustained burst …"

Tucker threw the man an infuriated look but came to check the status
of the phase cannons himself, swearing under his breath at the result.
 "All right.  Make it a 5 second burst at 75% output."  He headed back
to the science station.  "Go."

"I don't think, sir, that …" began the traumatised ensign and was
rudely interrupted."

"There!"  Tucker jabbed at the scrolling information to bring it to a
halt.  "What's that?"

"It's … I don't know, sir."

The engineer closed his eyes, teeth gritted; shouting at the man for
not having the same level of experience as T'Pol would be unfair and
unprofessional, but he was eating into Tucker's already limited
patience. "Then find out!  Start with a full spectral analysis and if
that doesn't show anything, try at a higher resolution."  The ensign
nodded and bent industriously over the console, leaving Tucker to turn
away, one hand kneading the back of his neck again.

Sato regarded him sympathetically.  "Commander?"  He looked sharply
over at her, normally relaxed features tense.  "Why don't you take a
break, sir?  You've been here for hours."

He scowled but came to her side.  "I'm OK."

"No, you're not."  Sato knew she was taking a risk by speaking so to a
senior officer, but she had always liked Enterprise's brilliant and
surprisingly kind chief engineer.  "Sir, what's wrong?  We've lost
contact with away teams before."

The muscles shifted beside Tucker's jaw as he leant both elbows on the
top of her workstation, dropping his head.  Confiding in a junior
officer wasn't in the rulebook, but he had always been more of a team
player than a leader – he got gyp for that in every yearly appraisal –
and with all his close friends on the planet there was no one else to
turn to.  "T'Pol's not well."

"I'm sorry.  That's hard when you've only just got together."  He gave
her a startled look.  "It's been pretty obvious the last week or so,
sir."

"Hell."  He rubbed a thumb and forefinger over his eyebrows.  "No
one's supposed to know."

"I can understand the sub-commander wanting to be discreet.  Did you
know that the words for shame and emotion come from a common root?"

"Oh, jeez, I didn't need to know that!"

"Sorry."  Sato patted his hand in a mostly motherly fashion.  "Go get
something to eat, sir."

"Maybe that's a good idea."

"Commander Tucker," the hard-pressed man at the science station looked
up hopefully, "I think I've got something."



"What are we looking for, sir?"  Reed was following Archer down the
main street of the township, obediently committing details to memory,
although he preferred to work to a plan.

"Anything out of place, lieutenant.  Such as how a badly broken wrist
healed in less time than Phlox could have achieved."

"Shouldn't we be trying to contact Enterprise?  Repairing the shuttle
pod?  Finding out what the Andorians are doing?"

"Somehow, Malcolm, I think we're more likely to find answers to those
first two questions right here."

"And the Andorians, sir?"

"We'll worry about them later.  First, I want to get T'Pol back to
Enterprise.  Pity they can't fix her up as easily as they did you."

There weren't any clues to be had, however.  Although they quartered
the town for an hour, they saw nothing that was not superficially
consistent with the culture they had expected.  "You'd think they'd at
least be curious," Reed groused after yet another silver-haired native
nodded them a grave greeting and passed serenely on.  "We don't look
like them, we're not dressed like them and yet they treat us as if
they have close encounters every day of the week."

"You remember what Travis said about this sector?"  Archer hadn't
really been listening.

Reed grunted disapprovingly.  "It sounded like the King Arthur myths! 
A great technology sleeping, waiting to return in an hour of need." 
He looked over at his captain in consternation.  "You don't believe
him, do you, captain?"

"There's something not right, Malcolm.  Different sensor readings on
the planet than from orbit.  Something blocking communications,
damping power systems.  Serious injuries healing overnight."

"Sir!"  The shorter man was shoving his captain up against the nearest
wall with little ceremony.  "Look."

Carefully, respecting Reed's caution, Archer peered in the direction
indicated and sighed.  "You've got your wish, lieutenant.  At least we
know what the Andorians are doing."  Half a dozen stocky blue skinned
figures were approaching, weapons drawn – and not all of them modern. 
At least two appeared to be carrying bows.

"With respect, sir, we should withdraw."

"Agreed.  Let's head back to the others."

Unfortunately, there wasn't quite enough cover and blue Starfleet
uniforms stood out amongst the greys and browns of the natives.  As
captain and armoury officer dodged down a side alley there was a shout
behind them and they ducked into a doorway as something thumped into a
wall ahead of them.  Reed glared.  "Arrows can be surprisingly lethal,
I'm afraid, sir."

"Pink-skin!"  The shout was accented but understandable.  "We saw you!
 Come out or," there was the sound of a brief scuffle and a muffled
shriek, "we kill this one."

Sneaking a look out, Archer's mouth tightened.  One of the Andorians
had a child by the neck, clearly poised to snap its neck.

"They must have found the shuttle," Reed muttered and Archer nodded,
less in response to his armoury officer than at his own conclusion.

"I'm going out there, lieutenant."  He held up a hand to prevent
Reed's instinctive protest.  "They only saw one of us and I don't
think they'll kill me out of hand.  You're to get back to the others
then head for the shuttle pod.  Try to contact Enterprise; I'm sure
Trip's doing his best at their end, too.  Make that your priority."

"What about you, sir?"

"Don't try anything until you're back in contact with Enterprise or
until you've got weapons operational.  I'll be all right."  There was
another shout from the main roadway and Archer squeezed Reed's
shoulder.  "You're in command, Malcolm.  Do your best," and he was
gone before the Englishman could think of a further protest.



The replacement science officer had been over optimistic.  He had
certainly proved that their weapons fire wasn't getting any further
than 2km from the planet's surface, which meant that there was
something in the way that let shuttle pods through but not focussed
energy beams.  However, neither he nor Tucker could work out what was
in the way, nor how to defeat it, and it finally became too much for
the engineer's patience.  He pounded a fist into a bulkhead, swore at
the pain and headed for the lift.
"Commander Tucker," his precipitous exit startled Sato, "where are you
going?"

"To prep a shuttle pod."  He glared at her over his shoulder.  "You're
in command."

"What?" but he was already gone.



Archer's gut feel that the Andorians wanted a prisoner not a corpse
proved true.  There was a certain amount of shoving and slapping
around to demonstrate who was in charge but it became obvious what
they wanted when they bundled him in the direction of the downed
shuttle pod.  Evidently the Andorians' own ship was just as useless
and they were hoping to make use of an alternative.  When they reached
the shuttle pod, the dents around the hatch made it clear that they
had already tried to get in, and their leader thrust Archer roughly
against the hull.   "Open it."

"It's not working, you know."  Even that token protest earned him a
painful blow to the kidneys with a rifle butt so he pressed his thumb
to the release mechanism; for some reason auxiliary systems had
remained operational.  The leader, whose name appeared to be Shran,
gestured one of his men inside although he returned after a short time
shaking his head.

Shran slapped the hull in frustration – which made a change from
hitting Archer – and scowled at the human, antennae tilting backwards.
 "Activate it."

"I can't.  I lost power on the way down and crashed, just like you." 
He got a backhanded blow across the face for the insolence and winced,
raising a hand to wipe away the trickle of blood from a split lip. 
"What are you doing here?"

"I ask the questions, pink-skin!  Why are you here?"

Imaginative, Archer thought ironically.  "I'm looking for someone."

"You found someone – us!"  The Andorian paced away, clearly frustrated
if the twitching of his antennae was anything to go by.  "Do you have
a sub-space phase modulator on board?"  Archer remained silent and a
rifle slammed into his stomach just for a change, sending him to his
knees.  "I can't shoot you, pink-skin, but death by blunt instrument
is very, very painful."

"There's one in the comm. system."

"Get it."

"Why?"

A boot to Archer's already abused abdomen emphasised the
inadvisability of further questions.  "Get it!"

The captain decided to cooperate.  He hadn't been beaten up for some
time and he'd remembered why he disliked it so much; it was damned
painful.



Given that he had been left in command, Reed felt justified in
disobeying orders.  He wasn't about to let his captain be kidnapped
without at least finding out where he was being taken.  Having to
watch Archer being beaten and abused nearly made him break his cover
and go to his rescue, but fortunately common sense held him back.  Two
against six weren't good enough odds when he knew the stocky aliens
were tough and dirty fighters.  So he bided his time and waited until
Archer re-emerged from the shuttle pod carrying an equipment unit then
followed again.  It didn't take him long to determine that the party
were steering a straight course towards a high escarpment and then he
turned tail and headed back to the town.

Mayweather was waiting anxiously for him, pacing restlessly around the
room while T'Pol slept in front of the fire, oblivious.  "You took
your time.  Where's the captain?"

"The Andorian's took him prisoner."

"You let them!  Sir."

"Yes, ensign, I let them.  There were too many of them."  Reed headed
for T'Pol's motionless body to shake her vigorously by the shoulder. 
"Sub-commander!  Sub-Commander T'Pol!"  She stirred but only to shrug
him off.  "Sub-commander!"

"I don't think she's going to be much help, sir."

"Then it's up to you and me, ensign.  We'll have to leave the
sub-commander here.  I don't think she'll come to any harm."

"What's your plan, Sir?"

"I thought I'd do it Captain Archer's way and make it up as I go
along.  Come on, ensign, move your butt."  Unfortunately, his mimicry
of Archer wasn't as good as his impression of Tucker's more
distinctive accent.



Archer was certainly hot and tired after lugging several kilograms of
sub-space phase modulator at a brisk pace for 6km, but not as tired as
he made out.  He must have been convincing, because his captors made
no protest when he sunk to the ground once they reached the rock face
that appeared to be their destination.  He was still left with too
many guards when Shran disappeared into a cave but it had been worth a
try.  Archer was shocked out of his charade, however, when Shran
re-emerged, dragging with him the oldest and frailest Vulcan Archer
had ever seen.  The captain shot to his feet to steady the old man as
Shran thrust him forward, gesturing to the unit at Archer's feet.  "Is
that what you wanted?"

"Maybe, maybe."  The Vulcan knelt, oblivious to Archer's supporting
hand.  "Power coupling, data interface."  He was practically crooning
to himself and Archer frowned.  This was strange even by his
standards.  And since when had English become the langua Shranca
between two other space fairing races?  The Vulcan struggled to lift
the unit and Archer moved him gently aside to pick it up himself.  It
was almost as disconcerting to see one of that proud race so
diminished as to have seen T'Pol crying for a man she loved.

Shran smirked and made a mock-courteous gesture towards the cave. 
"I'm glad to see you so cooperative, pink-skin.  In there."  Archer
sighed and went where he was directed; anything for a quiet life.

The cave was lit by a series of self-powered lights – apparently it
wasn't only locks that worked – and was half full of a heap of junk
that Archer suspected was anything but.  The ancient Vulcan tugged him
over to one corner and urged him to deposit the unit on the floor
where he promptly began to hook it up to the rest of the equipment.

On the pretext of helping, Archer knelt beside him.  "Professor
Tossan?"  The man nodded absently.  "Professor, what is this thing?"

"A disruptor field generator."

"A what?"

Tossan looked amiably up at him; Archer was convinced that the man was
several marbles short of a full set.  "It will disrupt any damping
field in the vicinity."

"An anti-cloaking device?"

The Vulcan nodded, more of a bob of his white head, and turned back to
his task.  Archer pursed his lips and sat back to watch, wishing he
had the slightest idea of what was going on.  Fortunately for his self
respect, Tossan did not take long to complete the hook up of the
shuttle pod's comm. module.  He hummed contentedly to himself once
that was done and pottered off to the other side of the heap of
technology.  Archer didn't see what he did, but suddenly instead of a
small cave they were situated at one end of a long corridor that
curved back into the cliff, artificial lights glowing softly.



Reed and Mayweather were several kilometres from the town when Reed's
communiSator bleebed.  They had got so used to their equipment being
dead that it took them both by surprise and Reed had to fumble several
times to get it out, by which time Sato was thoroughly annoyed. 
"Lieutenant, where have you been?   Why aren't Captain Archer and
Sub-Commander T'Pol responding?"

"Hoshi!"  Reed ignored the irrelevancies.  "How did you manage to
contact us?"

"I don't know.  The channel just opened."

"Where's Commander Tucker?"

"On his way down to the planet.  Malcolm …"

"Good.  Patch me through to him."

"Yes, sir."  If Sato sounded resigned, Reed did not notice, waiting
impatiently until Tucker's voice came through, sounding no more happy
than the Englishman felt.

"This is Shuttle Pod 2.  Malcolm, what's your status?  Where are the
Cap'n and T'Pol?"

Captain Archer's been taken prisoner by the Andorians we've been
tracking and the sub-commander seems to have decided to go into
hibernation."  He heard Tucker's sharply indrawn breath and abruptly
remembered that the latter comment hadn't been tactful, although he
felt that he could be excused.  The image of the reserved and
fastidious Vulcan allowing Enterprise's very human chief engineer into
her bed was not one that wanted to stay in his head.  "Can you land
near us, commander?"

"Yeah."  Tucker sounded more strained than ever.  "Hold your position.
 ETA … 7 minutes."



Archer stared in amazement at the corridor before him, inextricably
reminded of P'Jem and the Vulcan listening post there, although he was
fairly sure that he could absolve the Vulcans of duplicity this time. 
There was nothing remotely familiar about the look of the place and it
had an empty feel.  Besides, the Vulcan who had revealed the place was
humming happily to himself as he continued to prod around the device
he had created.  Archer couldn't help but feel that even a Vulcan who
was off his rocker would have reacted to the sudden revelation of a
secret outpost of his people.

Shran appeared at Archer's side, antennae straining forwards, a
triumphant grin forming.  "Impressed, pink-skin?  My people have been
searching for this place for generations.  And I found it!"

"What is it?"

"Victory.  There's technology here that will let us drive those damn
Vulcans back to their planet and keep them there for all eternity."  A
gun barrel prodded Archer forward.  "Move."  He smirked at the human's
wry look.  "Why risk myself when I have a prisoner?  Move.  Oh," he
pulled the trigger, sending a focussed energy stream into a wall,
"don't try anything.  Not now I can kill you so easily."



Shuttle Pod 2 made a landing that caused Mayweather to wince and
Tucker was outside before the other two had sprinted the hundred yard
safety clearance to join him.  The engineer was frowning at a
hand-held scanner and didn't bother with a greeting.  "I'm picking up
a huge power signature a kilometre north of here."

"That's where the Andorians were heading with Captain Archer."  Reed
peered curiously over Tucker's shoulder.  "The technology's working
again?"

"Yeah.  There was an energy-absorbing field over the planet until
about fifteen minutes ago then it just dissipated.  Where's T'Pol?"

"We left her back at the native settlement."  He pre-empted Tucker's
angry protest.  "They're friendly, Trip.  She's safe."

The engineer drew a steadying breath.  "OK.  Let's go get the Cap'n."

"Did you bring extra phase pistols?"

"No."

"Great!  There are at least half a dozen of them."

"So what were you planning on doing, Malcolm?"

It was Reed's turn to glare as he set off to the north, stride
determined.  "I'll get back to you on that one."

Tucker was scowling as he followed although Mayweather just made sure
that he dropped behind his senior officers before he allowed his grin
to appear.

Reed's caution paid off when some circuitous scrambling brought them
to a position where they could peer down at the huddle of Andorians at
the cave mouth.  "Five," he muttered to himself as he scanned the
surrounding area waiting for inspiration to strike.  "Commander,
what's the maximum spread you can get on the transporter?"

The engineer grimaced.  "Three metres.  Maybe four if you were
prepared to accept the additional risk."

"Good enough."  Reed reached for his communiSator and, after some
brisk orders to Sato regarding security personnel, sat back to watch
until the glow of the transporter beam had whisked the Andorians away.
 "A pity life's not always that simple."

"The Cap'n's not gonna be happy if all you've got on Enterprise is a
random set of molecules."  The engineer was already scrambling down,
Reed at his heels.

"They should have thought of that before they took Captain Archer
prisoner.  Bloody hell!"

They had entered the cave but it wasn't the sight of the contraption
in front of them, nor the corridor beyond that made Reed swear.  It
was the sight of the elderly Vulcan sitting on the floor, rocking
gently, tears streaming down his face.

Tucker withdrew his fascinated gaze from the machine to look at the
Vulcan and sighed.  "He's sick, Malcolm."

"What could do that to a Vulcan?"

"You'd be surprised."  He moved slowly over.  "But in this case … just
old age.  Professor Tossan?"  Slowly the man raised his head, tears
still flowing, and said something that neither Reed nor Mayweather
understood.  Tucker grimaced and crouched down, frowning in
concentration, and stunned his colleagues by replying.  After a few
moments, he patted the man's shoulder gently and rose to his feet
again, gesturing down the corridor.  "The Cap'n and one of the
Andorians went down there.  Travis, you stay with the professor. 
Malcolm."  He jerked his head and set off and Mayweather protested.

"Can't I come, sir?"

Tucker took no notice and Reed shrugged apologetically.  "Privileges
of rank, ensign, I'm afraid.  We do need someone to watch our back. 
Make sure you do it," and he jogged to catch up with his friend. 
"Since when do you speak Vulcan?"

The engineer shrugged absently.  "Since T'Pol loses her English when
she's not well."  He had been dipping into the subject in such spare
time as he had for over a year although Tossan was his first live
victim; until now he had only practised on the Universal Translator. 
Given that it appeared to work, perhaps he should let on to T'Pol that
he had at least been trying.



Archer would have liked to proceed more slowly, not just to inspect
his surroundings but to avoid any of the booby traps his Andorian
captor seemed to expect, but Shran was evidently in a hurry, indicated
by frequent jabs of the gun when the human paused.  The corridor they
followed curved on without side passages although there were plenty of
closed doorways that the captain was itching to investigate.  "Do you
know where you're going?" he asked at last, after having been shoved
past another doorway and wasn't totally surprised at the answer.

"No."

"This place is huge.  We could be here a long time."

"I've time, pink-skin.  Move."

"Who built it?"

"Do I care?"

Archer gave up; some people just didn't deserve the chance to explore.

The corridor ended in double doors that remained closed as they
approached.  Archer made a cursory search for a control panel then
folded his arms.  "Now what?"

Shran performed his own search, snarled impatiently and fired at the
door, which slid open in such an obliging manner that Archer's
suspicions were instantly aroused.  Not so Shran's; he grinned in
triumph and stepped inside, apparently no longer caring what his
prisoner might do.  With typical human illogic, Archer didn't take the
opportunity to escape but indulged his curiosity by following the
Andorian inside.  Unlike the corridor, this place was full of
equipment, row upon row of what looked vaguely like computer
terminals.  Shran was at one, randomly pressing buttons and swearing. 
Archer pressed a few himself, even knowing that his first officer
would strongly disapprove of such irresponsibility, and was rewarded
with a lighted screen and a softly spoken sentence in an alien
language.

The Andorian hurried over.  "What did you do?"

"No idea," Archer said honestly.  "It could take you years to
investigate something like this."

"There must be weapons somewhere.  That's all I want."

"There is no offensive weaponry on this planet."

The quiet comment brought both men around to face the silver haired
man Archer had first encountered the night before.  The captain drew a
breath, forehead creasing in consternation, but before he could query
the sudden acquisition of both speech and English, Shran had swung his
gun around to cover the newcomer.

"Who are you?"

"You could say that I am one of the owners."

"Then you can tell me where the weapons are."

"I told you, there are none."

"There have to be!  Tell me."

"I must ask you to leave."

"Not until I have what I came for."  Archer saw the Andorian's hand
tighten on the trigger and lunged forward but he was too far away and
Shran fired.  And the other man … avoided … the energy blast.  Archer
was still struggling to understand how he could have moved so quickly
when another energy beam shot out of the ceiling and the Andorian
disappeared.

Archer let out his breath in a gusty sigh.  "I thought you said there
were no weapons here."

"No offensive weapons.  That was purely defensive."

The captain rubbed his sore mouth gingerly.  "Is there any chance
you'd care to explain what's going on here?"

"I believe you are entitled to a limited explanation."  The man smiled
in pure amusement.  "If only to satisfy your curiosity, Captain
Archer.  Perhaps after your colleagues join you?"

Bemused, Archer had only a few seconds to wait before a phase pistol
appeared, followed by an angry chief engineer.  "Put the gun away,
Trip.  Quickly."  He would deal with the issue of why his third in
command had seen fit to leave Enterprise later.

Tucker obeyed, moving further into the room, eyes narrowing as he took
in his captain's bruised face.  "You OK?"

"No permanent damage."  He looked back at the alien.  "Would you care
to start with the not speaking, low tech charade?"

"There is no need for anger, Captain Archer.  We live as you saw us
live, simply, using technology only where necessary to maintain an
acceptable standard of living, and between ourselves speech is
unnecessary; we are telepaths."

"Cap'n," Tucker interrupted, "can this wait?  We need to get T'Pol
back to Enterprise."

"You need not worry, Commander Tucker."  The alien man spoke before
Archer could ask for clarification of the problem with his first
officer.  "Your love is quite safe."  Then he smiled.  "But for your
peace of mind we may return now.  I can satisfy your captain's
curiosity as we walk."   He led the way out into the corridor,
ignoring the side door by which he had entered, and the doors slid
closed behind them; Archer was fairly sure that opening them again
would be more difficult than before.  "We developed space travel some
five thousand of your years ago.  For three thousand years, we did
much as you are now doing, exploring other worlds, seeking out
knowledge, pursuing some rather selfish goals.  But then we became …
bored, certainly dissatisfied.  Other races were taking to the stars
and we were not impressed.  The Vulcans in particular concerned us
with their barbarity, although I understand that they have changed, at
least superficially.  So we chose to return home and to be content
with our own world, our own company and an exploration of where our
minds alone could take us.  But because we did not believe that our
privacy would be respected we constructed this complex to mask our
presence."

Archer shook his head.  "I don't see how you could give up exploring
space."

"Perhaps your species never will, Captain Archer, but I suggest you do
not judge us for three thousand years yet."

The captain grimaced an apology – not a terribly sincere one – and
Reed asked, "What will you do now?  Other races clearly have the
technology to detect you."

"We will upgrade the system.  We were careless not to have done so
before."

"And the fact that we know you're here?" Archer queried, having
recovered from his shock that anyone would willingly exchange space
travel for staying home to work out they could have a big problem.

"I believe that we can come to an arrangement."  They had reached the
cave entrance.  "But now I believe that Commander Tucker has an urgent
desire to be elsewhere."



Archer had no opportunity to speak to Tucker privately during the
short shuttle pod hop back to the ‘primitive' township, but he pulled
the engineer aside as soon as they landed.

"You know what's wrong with T'Pol?"

"Sort of."  The younger man rubbed his eyes as if they were aching. 
"We've gotta get her back to Vulcan, Cap'n.  There's maybe a chance
they can save her."

"Maybe?"  He got a nod in answer.  "We're months from Vulcan."

"I contacted V'Lar.  She's seeing to it that one of the Vulcan ships
patrolling the border will take her back."  Tucker shrugged in apology
for over-stepping his authority.  "Sorry, Cap'n."

"No need; I'd have done the same."  Archer studied his friend's
stressed face and laid a comforting hand on a rigid shoulder to steer
him towards the building where they had left T'Pol.  "Let's go get
her."

Enterprise's first officer was curled up asleep on the bed Reed had
occupied, the same silver-haired woman sitting at her side, head bent
over an embroidery frame although she looked up with a smile as Tucker
and Archer entered, accompanied by the man who had turned out to be
the planet's leader.  The smile faded, however, as Tucker crossed
immediately to the bed to gather T'Pol into his arms.

The woman looked to her leader for permission and then broke into
speech, her tone severe.  "Why are you proposing to send your woman
back to her own people when she is terrified of being without you?"

Tucker paused, surprised, T'Pol's limp body resting against his chest.
 "It's because of me she's like this.  I'm not acceptable to her
people."  His mouth twisted bitterly.  "She ashamed of me, I guess."

"You are very wrong, Commander Tucker.  T'Pol loves you deeply.  She
is hiding from a future in which she loses you."

Tucker's arms tightened.  "We discussed that.  We both know it can't
be permanent between us."

"She is very vulnerable at the moment, yes?"  He nodded reluctantly. 
"When she is stronger, she will no doubt come to terms with the
inevitability of your loss.  At the moment, she cannot."

He stared back then abruptly lost his temper.  "How the hell do you
know that?  You don't know either of us!"

"We are telepaths, Commander Tucker, as you have been told.  We speak
directly to each other's minds and we can perceive the thoughts of
others.  We do not pry without need but T'Pol's thoughts concerning
you have been very clear."

Tucker's expression twisted as he dropped his head to T'Pol's, mouth
resting against her temple, brief flash of temper spent.  "Then what
can be done for her?  She's dying!"

"It is customary amongst T'Pol's people for couples to be mentally
bonded?"  He nodded.  "I believe that may provide her with the
reassurance she needs."

"So she still needs to go home.  There aren't any other Vulcans
around."

"You would object to being bonded with her?"

"No!  Not if it helped, but … How?  I'm no telepath."

"I could make up for your lack."

Tucker glared down at the woman in his arms again, forehead creased in
concentration.  "If you've been listening in, you know what was done
to her.  What you're suggesting … raking around in her head, bonding
her with me … isn't that just another form of rape?"

"I am a doctor, Commander Tucker.  I would not propose something that
would cause T'Pol harm."

He bit his lip, still uncertain, and Archer moved closer, joining the
debate for the first time; it looked as if his friend needed help. 
"Trip, if T'Pol's dying and this could do some good, then isn't it
worth the risk?"

"Jeez," the engineer muttered and hugged T'Pol to him, pressing his
lips to her temple again.  "If it goes wrong, can you undo it?"

"There are people on T'Pol's world who will be able to severe the
connection."

"OK.  But I gotta ask her."  He was looking pleadingly up at Archer
who nodded encouragement although he wondered if it would be possible.
 The Vulcan woman had shown no reaction to either Tucker's presence or
the conversation going on over her head.

"See if you can wake her, Trip.  If not … maybe we have to think
again."

Tucker nodded shakily and raised a hand to cup T'Pol's cheek.  "T'Pol.
 Honey, wake up."  She barely stirred and he tapped her cheek gently. 
"C'mon, darling, wake up now."  Eyes still closed she rolled her head
slowly sideways, nuzzling into his hand, and he smiled reluctantly. 
"T'Pol, you gotta wake up now."  He leant forward to press a kiss to
her unresponsive lips and she sighed.  "C'mon, honey."  He tapped her
sharply.  "Wake up."  She mumbled this time and he pushed her away
from him, holding her upright, eliciting a faint protest.  "That's
right, darling.  Wake up, now."  He kissed her again and she tried to
lean against him, only to be shaken gently.  "T'Pol, wake up,
darling."

Finally her eyes flickered briefly open.  "Charles."

"Yeah, that's me."  Again he shook her.  "C'mon, honey, time to wake
up."

"No."  That was almost rational.

"Yes!  T'Pol, darling, you gotta wake up.  We have to talk."

"No.  Just sleep."  She was looking at him through heavily lidded
eyes.  "Kiss me."

He obeyed in case it kept her interest, but she just used the
opportunity to wind her arms around him and snuggle close to go back
to sleep and he groaned, struggling to unwind her.  "T'Pol, cut that
out!"  He shook her sharply and she gave a small grunt of protest.

"Don't."

"Then wake up, darling."  He shook her again for good measure.  "Wake
up or no more kissing and definitely no cuddling."  She managed a
resentful glare.  "That's better."  He cupped a hand around one cheek
to try to keep her attention, fingers slipping into her hair.  "Now,
are you listening to me?"  she nodded although her eyelids were
drooping.  "I talked to V'Lar.  She said you're like this because you
can't cope with loving me.  T'Pol, darling, is that true?  Because if
it is … hell, you have to go home, honey.  I can't let you kill
yourself for me."

She was still sleepy but she raised a hand to his face, stroking him
gently.  "I do not want to leave you.  Not yet."

Tucker closed his eyes briefly, swallowing hard.  "Then if you want me
… people here say they can bond us."

T'Pol was frowning.  "Bond …"

"Yeah.  So you'd always know I was around.  D'you want that, honey?"

She nodded then spoilt the effect by yawning and leaning forward
again.  This time Tucker let her, pulling her to him where she
snuggled contentedly against him.  He threw back his head, expelling a
long breath, then looked over at the woman who had watched the
exchange kindly.  "Get on with it."



T'Pol had been floating in an increasingly impenetrable layer of warm
darkness that she had ceased to worry about or question. 
Interruptions in the form of people talking to her had become
progressively less interesting than staying in the dark, even when it
was someone she loved.  Then the darkness was abruptly replaced by a
jumble of emotions not her own that were entirely unfamiliar and yet
instantly identifiable; that combination of love, concern and fierce
loyalty could belong to only one individual she had ever encountered. 
She opened her eyes to stare up into Tucker's shocked face.  "You must
learn to meditate."

He blinked, eyes gradually clearing, and she felt his emotions change,
concern fading to be replaced by wonder and rapidly escalating
happiness.  "Does that mean you're gonna learn to play the harmonica?"

She decided to forgive him that one – for now – and reached up to kiss
him.  The experience produced such interesting sensations that she
promptly scheduled in a longer period of research into the benefits of
being bonded to a man who evidently liked being kissed a great deal
more than she had appreciated.



Archer had watched with some trepidation following Tucker's reluctant
consent although there was little to see.  The silver haired woman had
simply smiled confidently then closed her eyes for a moment, only her
faint frown suggesting effort.  The effect on his colleagues was more
visible.  Tucker gasped, almost a cry of pain, but before Archer could
react T'Pol drew a long breath and sat up, clearly wide awake and not
necessarily happy about it.  Then he was bundled precipitously out of
the room by the alien doctor who shot him an amused look.

"They will require some privacy to adapt, Captain Archer.  It would
have been impolite to remain."

"T'Pol's going to be all right?"

"If you mean is she recovered from her malaise, yes, she is.  If you
are referring to that couple's future," she looked up with a tolerant,
rueful glint in her eyes, "I am afraid that we are merely telepaths,
Captain Archer, not clairvoyants.  Although I am sure that they have
many arguments still before them."

Archer could do nothing but agree with the latter comment before
turning back to the man who was waiting with Reed, Mayweather and a
once again cheerful Tossan.  "You mentioned an arrangement regarding
our knowledge of your presence here?"

"That's right, captain.  In fact," he looked over to where T'Pol had
just emerged from the inner room, Tucker at her heels, "I believe we
could begin the arrangement straight away."



In one of the spare seats in Shuttle Pod 2, watching Mayweather
manoeuvre the craft so that it could get a grappler onto the shuttle
pod they had crashed the previous day, Archer was aware of some
confusion.   The events of the last two days seemed clear enough in
his memory - bringing a shuttle pod down after the Andorians who had
abducted Tossan, crashing, being out of contact with Enterprise over
night, rescuing the professor and taking most of his kidnappers into
custody – but they didn't quite seem to fit together properly.  He
looked over at his first officer, intending to ask if she had noticed
any discrepancies, but T'Pol was engaged in a low voiced conversation
with Tossan, assisted – or possibly hindered – by Tucker who had
apparently been brushing up on his schoolboy Vulcan.  And that was
another strange thing.  There was no reason why the chief engineer
should not have brought down a shuttle pod to pick up his stranded
colleagues, but how had T'Pol been sufficiently aware of his presence
to instigated some form of telepathic bond with him that had cured her
sleeping problem?

"Captain?"  Archer looked over at the young pilot.  "Permission to
return to Enterprise, sir?"

"Take us up, ensign."  Maybe it would all be clearer back on board."

Beside Archer, Reed leant forward for a last look at the planet
through the view screen.  "Are you disappointed about the lack of
treasure, Travis?"

"It's in this sector somewhere, sir.  It's just not been found yet."

"Well, at least you can knock this planet off your list.  Not even a
sniff of treasure.  Wonder why the Andorians brought Professor Tossan
here?"



When they docked, T'Pol was out of the shuttle pod as soon as the
launch bay re-pressurised, dragging Tossan with her.  "Sub-Commander?"
Archer asked in surprise but she kept walking.

"I must take Professor Tossan to sickbay and," she threw a baleful
look over her shoulder at Tucker, "I have a headache."

The engineer only grinned and fell in at Archer's side as the captain
headed automatically for the bridge, casting his friend a look that
managed worry and curiosity at the same time.  "Are you two going to
be all right?"

"Sure."  The younger man had finally adopted the silly grin of someone
in the throws of a new love affair.  He had been shocked, flattered
and humbled by the depth of love and passion he'd felt in T'Pol when
she had bonded them – even if he was still sketchy on the details of
how she'd done it – and he was confident they could sort out any
remaining complications resulting from a trans-species relationship,
even though he no longer seemed to be able to ‘hear' her.

"T'Pol doesn't seem too happy with you at the moment."

"Ah, she's just pretending."  Partly anyway.  Tucker's grin became
smug.  "She thinks I'm adorable when I'm being illogical.  Hell, I'm
always adorable!"

Archer assumed the expression of a man tried beyond endurance.  "Trip,
are you planning on staying this happy for long?"

"Yup."

"Then, Commander Tucker, I'd be grateful if you'd keep out of my way."

"Hey!"  For a moment the protest was genuine then engineer caught the
amusement in Archer's eyes and an affection very close to love.  He
laughed and threw an arm around his captain in a rare expression of
his own feelings for the man.  "Wish me luck?"

"Always, Charles.  Always."

"Don't you dare!  Not even you can get away with that one, Jon, not
even you."



T'Pol broke the silence in Tucker's cabin as soon as she had regained
a modicum of control.  "Your degree of self-satisfaction is extreme."

"Dunno about that."  He was still short of breath.  "That was pleasure
you were experiencing, wasn't it, sub-commander?"

"Much of my … reaction … stemmed from your own enjoyment."

Tucker grinned and rolled onto his side, reaching out to caress
T'Pol's elegant and just slightly annoyed face.  "We could just agree
we both had a real good time."

"Agreement between us would be unusual."

He sobered, losing the post-coital contentment.  "Is this bonding
thing too hard for you?  We can get it undone.  If you feel I forced
…"

Warm fingers pressed to his mouth to halt the guilt trip.  "It is not
easy, hearing your emotions alongside my own, but I will adapt.  And
the sensations while we were … intimate … were remarkable."

"Buy one, get one free, huh?"  He shrugged regretfully.  "I don't know
that I can hear you at all anymore.  Maybe at the end, sort of like an
echo but …" and he grimaced.

"Between Vulcans the bond is bi-directional but humans have no
telepathic ability at all and mine is limited."  T'Pol offered what
comfort she could.  "The bond grows stronger with time and intimacy. 
If you learn to regulate your emotions via meditation, it may become
easier to distinguish what is yours and what is mine."

"You're dead set on teaching me to meditate, aren't you?"

"Indeed.  I have no wish for a permanent headache."

He chuckled and gathered her to him.  "Yeah, a lot of my girlfriends
have said that."  He hugged away the slight tension that comment
provoked.  "So you reckon that practising the intimacy could do the
trick too?"

T'Pol sighed.  Tucker could still be effortlessly offensive. 
"Perhaps."

"I can live with that."  He paused thoughtfully.  "But I'm gonna check
the soundproofing.  You're real loud."

T'Pol glared at her former lover and freed herself, stalking into the
bathroom.  She would shower to rid herself of the stink and then
return to the tranquillity of her own quarters.  Unfortunately Tucker
followed her and used unfair means to persuade her to stay.



END of "Repercussions


Continued in "Cry Havoc"

--
Stephen Ratliff
ASC Stories Only Forwarding

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