Face of the Enemy - Part 3

Face of the Enemy

by SpaceCowboy

Disclaimers in Part One

‘Seven years would be sufficient to make some people acquainted with each other, and seven days are more than enough for others.’
- Jane Austen (Sense and Sensibility)

Part Three

COMMANDER TUCKER WAS HEADING toward the turbo lift the next morning when the captain fell into step beside him. Trip looked himself over, not sure if Archer realized he was just coming in. He looked dishevelled, yet presentable none-the-less.

"Trip, I trust you enjoyed yourself last night?" asked Archer.

"Ah yes, Cap’n… I um, I was just..." replied Trip.

"Returning to the ship?" Archer asked.

Apparently he knew.

"You've caught me, sir," blushed Trip. "But I assumed since I wasn't required for duty till 0800h, and I was always within com link... And I was already there..." Archer gestured for him to stop, but Trip continued. "Captain, I assure you, I was with Sacha all night. We were talking, and..."

"Trip, it's alright. You don't have to explain your off-duty whereabouts to me. It’s your personal time; you can do whatever you want with it. Just as long as you don't get into any trouble." The captain folded his arms behind his back with a coy smile.

"Thank-you, Captain," replied Trip.

Hours later, Trip was sitting on the floor outside the shuttle bay. Somehow, he had been assigned first shuttle duty, and was not amused. “You do the crime, you do the time,” he mumbled good-naturedly. Then the sounds of nearing footsteps made his heart sink. He dropped his head and stared at the floor between his legs.

"Commander? What are you doing on the floor? Why aren't you down on the planet?" Hoshi’s voice surprised him.

She was the last person he expected to see. He put on his most sincere smile. "Just waiting for you, Hoshi," he chimed, scrambling to his feet. "Off for a little adventure are we?"

Hoshi folded her arms across her chest and smiled. "Of course,” she replied in a friendly tone.

Mid-flight, Trip looked back where Hoshi sat staring out the side window, her hands folded in her lap. She looked very serene and peaceful. "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked.

She turned and stared blankly at him. "What?"

"It means what's on your mind?"

"Oh, sorry. I was just going over my Vhoorminian. It kind of relaxes me to practice languages." Hoshi uncrossed her arms and crossed her legs.

"You seem relaxed to me." Trip let his eyes wander over the linguist’s body. The firm, muscular legs concealed under the purplish uniform pants. The taught stomach and thin arms that hid her true strength so well. Not to mention the dark brown eyes and straight black hair.

"It must be working then," Hoshi mused back.

"About time too."

Hoshi gave him a sharp glare. "What's that supposed to mean, sir?"

"Nothing, forget it." He regretted saying it now. Had he just over stepped his bounds?

"No, I want to know what you meant by that?" Hoshi obviously was not about to let it drop.

And Trip wasn't sure how to continue without offending her further. He realized it was impossible, and kicked himself for speaking before using his head. A mistake he often made. "I just meant that I've never seen you so relaxed. You're usually a little uptight during first contact situations." Now he was in for it. He could literally feel Hoshi’s eyes boring into his skull. I've got to stop doing that, he thought to himself.

"Is that what you think of me? I'm uptight?"

"Sorry," Trip breathed.

Hoshi stared at the floor. Her voice even seemed a little hurt. "I'm not that bad, am I?"

Guilt swept through Trip. Here he thought he was in for it, and instead he had hurt her feelings. He was about to apologize, but she continued. "No, I'm not that bad," she said shaking her head. "I can be as calm as the next person. It just depends on the company I guess."

Wham! There it was. The blow he had been waiting for. So that's it, I put you in a tense mood, he thought. "Well I guess no one can live up to the company you keep with your languages," he replied, determined not to show her how much the remark had hurt. “I swear that’s all you ever think about.”

Content to end the conversation, Trip flew his fingers over the sensitive controls and directed the shuttle to touch down quietly in a park It was large and central, so the Vhoorminian's barricaded it off for Enterprise’s benefit. The door opened and Trip quietly followed Hoshi out into the sun drenched planet. The dark shadowy trees from the night before were much prettier now. Their trunks were grey and twisted, reaching out in all directions. They sprouted into clusters of tiny orange, purple and yellow foliage meters above their heads. And small bird-like organisms fluttered from branch to branch as their peaceful home was disturbed by the voices of approaching men.

Captain Archer and a crewman stepped out of the tree line and strode briskly across the lawn. "Just in time. The crewman here is going to relieve you. You're a free man." Archer patted Trip on the shoulder and grinned.

"Thanks, Cap’n,” was all Trip said.

"Are you leaving so soon, sir?" asked Hoshi.

"I've had about as much of their 'democracy' as I can handle for the day," replied Archer, as he and the crewman headed for the shuttle. "Phlox was being generous when he said these Vhoorminians were a 'bit annoying'. It took them two hours to decide how high a road sign should be placed on a post." Archer shook his head and spoke into the ground. "They had to call representatives from each Sectate to ensure equal representation - just so they could vote on an exact height. It really was a tedious experience to witness. I'd hate to see them deliberate on something important, like what corner to put the post on." He raised his arms in a dramatic surrender. "I leave them to you."

Trip waved good-bye as the shuttle lifted into the air, then he turned and noticed Hoshi standing beside him. “So,” he said with a nervous smile, rocking back on his heels. “You got a big day planned?”

Hoshi pulled her pony tail tight. “A lot to learn on a new planet,” she replied, bobbing her head slightly.

“I hear the library has an extensive language department,” he suggested in a helpful manner. “And there’s a nice café next door you might want to check out.”

“Well, actually,” began Hoshi. But she was cut off when Trip gave her a pat on the shoulder and a quick wave good-bye.

He left her in the park, hoping he had returned to her good graces with the library suggestion. He hoped she would enjoy herself, even though it was the last place Trip would have wanted to spend an afternoon. He preferred more intimate contact with new species, and went looking for his new friend, Sacha.

About an hour later, he found him talking with another Vhoorminian at a table outside a small restaurant. Trip took a seat and smiled at the stranger. His clothes were not as colourful as Sacha's; they were grey and white robes layered one on top of the other, whereas Sacha wore a bright red tunic with gold trim. The stranger's face was also very insipid, unlike most of the other Vhoorminians Trip had encountered- they, were all smiles and hello's.

Trip passed over the stranger and nodded at Sacha. "So, what's on the schedule for today?"

"I'm afraid not much. I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Would you mind if we just shared some conversation? I'm not in the mood for adventure, but I am fascinated in hearing more about your sky travels." Sacha coughed out the last words, causing the stranger to support his shoulders. Sacha waved him off and took a sip from a drink he had been nursing.

Trip wasn't sure what to make of this, but Sacha was a high official in the Vhoorminian government, so he assumed the stranger was some sort of valet. An odd idea, thought Trip, because the valet seemed more annoying than helpful. "Sure, no problem,” he replied. “I could talk for hours about space flight. Usually no one ever gives me the chance. Maybe I can even convince you to give it a try sometime?"

Sacha laughed, and explained how their fear of flying had kept them from returning to rescue the others on their home world. Sacha recounted the demonic tales of visions and sky quakes that rocked their ancestor’s ships during their maiden voyage here. One of the ships had even exploded.

He told of how ‘The Great Books of History’ recalled the voyage. And how the remaining Vhoorminians knew the colonizers would not be returning for them. That is why each Sectate sent exactly one thousand representatives on the voyage. They wanted to keep the population equally distributed amongst the Sectates. Every citizen voted on which representatives and Cabinet members would go. The Vhoorminians prided themselves on this system, and considered themselves the benevolent sages of democracy.

Trip’s head swam with thoughts of trying to physically organize such a tedious, cumbersome process while their planet was imploding beneath their feet. He had to give the Vhoorminians credit, they were a very focused race- not to mention gracious and dynamic. Sacha was so alive and animated about his people, that when he spoke, his hands flew about him in exaggeration, and he had to stop and catch his breath on several occasions- waning concern from the stranger each time.

"Our government is separated into four Cabinets,” continued Sacha. “Each represented by a member from every Sectate; Kaine, Minx and Krolla. Each and every position is an honour, and one must be voted in by the population, except the Chancellor's seat of course."

"How does one become Chancellor?" asked Trip.

"Familial inheritance. And we have been fortunate to have MiVix hold the chair for as long as I can remember. Chancellor MiVix is a fine example of the Kaine’s biological dominancy. He is also a close friend of mine, and has been of invaluable support during my ..." His words slurred to a stop, and he paused to sip more of his drink.

"You mean each Sectate is different according to their ...their, physiology?" asked Trip.

"In a way. We're all Vhoorminians, but there are physical differences between the Sectates. It's an inheritable biological trait. Some of us are more affirmative in our actions than others. But everything always concludes in agreement when we vote. It would be a much different matter though, if one of the Minx or Krollas held our top seat. Nothing would ever get accomplished, and we would be so far behind technologically, that this conversation would probably never have existed between us.”

Trip stirred in his seat, recognising a deeper aspect of the Vhoorminians culture.

~

Captain Archer was busy himself, also learning the same facts Trip Tucker was acquiring down on the planet. A crewman had downloaded the information obtained from T’Pol’s initial probe into Enterprise’s computer, and Archer was familiarizing himself. The same look of disbelief that crossed Trip’s face, now swept across his.

The door to his ready room chimed, interrupting his studies. "Come," he sighed, not removing his eyes from the monitor. Sub-Commander T’Pol stepped in and stood in her usual stoic position- at attention, with her hands clasped behind her back. Her face was serene, and expressed nothing about her intentions. "T’Pol, I'm glad you're here. I was just reading up on the Vhoorminians." Archer leaned forward and rested his chin in his hand.

"This is the reason behind my intrusion, Captain. I too, found the Vhoorminians physiology quite curious." T’Pol dropped her hands to her side and approached the captain.

Now Archer was even more intrigued. "You mean it’s their physiology that’s responsible for this?”

T’Pol nodded towards the empty chair beside him. "May I?"

"Please."

T’Pol seated herself rigidly in the chair and began. "Many millennia ago, a certain variation occurred in their DNA due to a mutation in a gene. This mutation was caused by electromagnetic fallout of their closest star. Over time, this variation was inherited in the offspring, creating separate gene pools. It’s an excellent example of Mendellian genetics."

"And, this mutation," started Archer. "It somehow caused a change in their behaviour?"

"That is correct," answered T‘Pol. "The mutation ceased the production of a catalytic enzyme responsible for the chemical reaction which produces phenoline. This, phenoline, is able to dictate a certain characteristic in Vhoorminians. Phenoline is equivalent to adrenaline in humans; but more potent."

Archer sat with his chin in his hand, staring wide-eyed at the Vulcan.

"According to my research,” continued T’Pol. “It is clearly an example of incomplete dominance. A Krolla possess two recessive genes, and a Minx has a heterozygous pair of the genes. The Kaine do not carry the gene at all. And after escaping to their new world, the newly appointed Chancellor was assigned the task of keeping the populations of each Sectate equal. The appointed one, an ancestor of MiVix, legally restrained marriages and procreation to within Sectates only. Apparently, inter-sectate procreation is punishable by law, and the penalty is quite severe. The child must be killed."

"Fascinating. Disturbing, but fascinating nonetheless." Archer rose and circled his desk. He leaned against the corner and closer to T‘Pol. "The Vhoorminians pride themselves on being a fair and equal society, yet their laws prevent this from ever happening."

"Quite accurate, Captain."

"The Kaines are born leaders. Their physiology dictates that they will usually win any argument because the Krolla’s are born followers, and I can only assume the Minx are fence-sitters."

T’Pol looked questioningly at the captain. "I'm not sure I'm familiar with the term 'fence-sitters'?"

"It means not taking a side. The Kaine's have more phenoline, which would make them a more aggressive people, while the Minx are subservient- due to the lack of this phenoline," explained Archer.

"And the Minx fall in between," finished T‘Pol. "Fascinating. They have doomed themselves from ever reaching their desired state of pure equality."

Archer nodded, realizing that it would be hard to look at the Vhoorminians in the same light- knowing what he now knew. He thanked T’Pol for the information and dismissed her a moment later. It wasn't until several hours later that they reunited for dinner with the Chancellor.

~

There was a knock at the door and Chancellor MiVix looked up from his desk to see his young secretary peep her head through. "Yes, what is it Roulla?" he asked, rather annoyed by the interruption.

"There is someone here to see you, Chancellor." The secretary cleared her throat before continuing. "He says his name is Kintz. He's a ... a Klingon."

MiVix drew in a deep breath, and was about to tell the secretary to dismiss the visitor when the door swung open and Kintz barged in. MiVix jumped to his feet and reached for the security alarm. But Kintz grabbed his arm before he was able to activate it.

"I would not do that if I were you," threatened the Klingon. "I believe you will be interested in my proposition. It might be very profitable for you."

MiVix stared at the intruder for a moment, contemplating whether or not to trust him. The Klingon's face was impassive, yet there was urgency behind his eyes. "Roulla," he said slowly. "That will be all. You may go now." The secretary nodded and closed the door behind her. Kintz released his grip, and the Chancellor slowly took his seat. "So, what is this proposition you think I'll be so interested in?"

Kintz smiled and sat in the empty chair behind him. He leaned back and smirked across the desk at the Chancellor. "I understand you are interested in acquiring technology, Chancellor?"

"Maybe," MiVix answered skeptically. He was glad to hear that the proposition concerned obtaining technology, but he also knew that Kintz could not be trusted. He had done business with the Klingons before, and had not enjoyed the experience. The Klingons were a vile, degenerate and volatile race that prided themselves on their warrior nature. When the Vhoorminians had asked them to leave, the Klingons had left a path of destruction behind them before being chased away. They vowed to return to seek revenge. They never did return, and MiVix was skeptical that maybe this was why Kintz was here now. Not that MiVix didn't have confidence in the Vhoorminan’s defensive capabilities, but still, no one wanted war.

"I assure you, you will be interested in acquiring this piece of technology," suggested Kintz.

"And what technology would that be? I'm not aware of anything the Klingons have that they’ve previously been willing to trade."

"It is not Klingon technology I'm talking about, it's Earth technology." Kintz’ voice took on a more hostile tone as he continued to speak. "They have this matter-energy conversion device that allows them to transport people and things to other locations instantaneously. We call it a transporter."

MiVix's curiosity was sparked by Kintz's description. He leaned over his desk, motioning for the Klingon to lean in closer, and spoke in an almost whisper. "This device you are talking about, if you are telling the truth of course, would be very valuable to our planet. We have acquired many impressive technologies from other races, but this transporter sounds wonderful. But we should be able to acquire it ourselves- we do have a notorious reputation for getting our hands on things. People seem to trust us somehow. I guess it's our pleasant demeanour that fools them." He sat back rigidly and braced his hands on his desk. "What makes you think you will have anything to do with us obtaining this transporter?"

"Because," smiled Kintz. "I have already communicated with Duras, and there are five Klingon war ships- fully armed, and headed this way. If you do not assist us in acquiring the Earth ship itself, we will annihilate you and your planet. Your feeble ground weapons won't be enough to protect you this time."

"What makes you think I won't ask Enterprise for help in protection? You obviously are no threat to them, or you would not be asking us for help."

"Because I know you want their technology as much as we want that ship!" countered Kintz, raising his voice. "And the humans will not hand over their transporter readily. Now, our ships will be here in four days. You’d better have Enterprise in your possession when they arrive. In payment, we will let you have their transporter technology- as petty as it is to ours. In the meantime, I will keep myself hidden to ensure no suspicion."

MiVix didn't like his options, but this technology sounded marvellous and a war with the Klingons at this particular stage in Vhoorminia’s development could be crippling. "I'll try my best,” he replied. “But Captain Archer has told me he wishes to leave in a day or so."

"Then stall," ordered Kintz.

Roulla's head peeked back into MiVix's office once again. MiVix waved her in. "Chancellor, Sacha's doctor just called. I'm afraid it's bad news."

~

Captain Archer and the sub-commander were sitting in a small, comfortable room inside the Great Hall awaiting their host’s arrival. Chancellor MiVix had been detained. And when he finally arrived, he had a worried expression on his face, and was wringing his hands in grief. "I'm sorry to have kept you. But I have just received some sad news about one of our Cabinet Leaders, the one who has taken so quickly to your Commander."

"Is he alright?" asked Archer.

"It seems Sacha has taken a turn for the worse. The Doctor's predict he only has a short time to live. We must arrange for his brother’s transportation to Sacha's Cleansing Ceremony. I regret that we will not be able to dine tonight."

"That’s understandable, Chancellor. I'm sorry to hear about Sacha. I wish there was something we could do for him," answered Archer, smiling sympathetically.

The three bid good-bye and Archer explained Sacha's unfortunate situation to T’Pol as they left the Great Hall. They were heading back to the shuttle when they ran into a tired Malcolm, Hoshi and Phlox. They were returning from a long day of helping the Vhoorminians resurrect a garden for fruits and vegetables.

Their faces were smeared with dirt, but they said it had felt good to go back to basics and work outside in the fresh air. Together, the five of them walked back to the shuttle, sharing their day’s adventures. The captain explained what he learned about the Vhoorminian physiology, and sadly described the predicament of Trip’s new friend.

Malcolm, Hoshi and Phlox spoke animatedly- interrupting each other and making it hard for Archer to follow, about the garden and how invigorating it was to work outside again. The fresh air had obviously done them some good, which pleased Archer.

Phlox was particularly overjoyed to be able to share the experiences of his own garden dwelling creatures aboard Enterprise with the Vhoorminian gardeners. But Malcolm griped about all the tedious deliberations that went on concerning which fruits and vegetables would be most beneficial- and where they should each be placed in the garden, and exactly how far apart the rows should be. At one point, Malcolm was almost arrested for suggesting they just throw the seeds in the air and plant them where they fell.

~

Commander Tucker caught up to the crew as they entered the park. He had left Sacha late in the afternoon, and had spent the rest of the day roaming the city. Sacha had become ill, and his aid was adamant about him getting some rest.

And now, as Trip approached his crew members, he realized Sacha's aid was following quickly behind. The aid was calling his name and scurrying across the park. Trip caught the short Vhoorminian as he stopped short, panting and out of breath.

"Mr. Tucker, you must come quickly, it is very important." The urgency in the aid's voice concerned Trip. He had not heard the aid speak more than ten words before, and now he was spurting out words as fast as his lips would allow. "Sacha is waiting for you at his residence. You must come now! Hurry, he is waiting!" he continued, begging and tugging on Trip's elbow.

"Is anything wrong? Is he alright?” questioned Trip.

"I cannot tell you, you must come. Hurry!" He was trying to push Trip along now, which was no easy feat considering the Vhoorminians slight size and frame. Trip looked over the little persistent aid to his captain for permission. Archer nodded, so Trip took off with the aid back through the trees.

Later that evening, Hoshi walked into the mess hall at 0200h. There were two other people present when she arrived; Doctor Phlox at the protein resequencer ordering coffee, and Commander Tucker. He was sitting alone at a table starring into his coffee mug.

Trip looked up at her as she approached, but he wasn’t paying much attention. After a moment he realized she was talking to him. “I’m sorry, Hoshi. Did you say something’?”

"May I join you?,” she repeated. “You looked a little lonely so I thought I'd come over.”

"Sacha wants me to be his Beholder," sighed Trip, gesturing to an empty seat at the table.

Hoshi sat across from him. "What's a Beholder?" she asked softly.

Trip kept his eyes on his empty cup when he spoke. "I assume you know about Sacha's condition?" He raised his head and caught Hoshi’s nod. "They have this Cleansing Ceremony they practice on people who’re sick or really old. In other words, people who know the time of their unfortunate demise." He smirked and pulled at his chin. "The Vhoorminian's believe in sending their sick and elderly to their final resting place in a pure form. They bottle up all their negative entities and pass them on to a relative or close friend called the Beholder. They, in turn, bury it in some sacred ground for eternity. Sacha’s only family is his brother Silla, and he’s not sure if he’ll make it in time. So he asked me to stand in if he can't make it. Apparently the Chancellor suggested it."

"Bottle?" asked Hoshi, backtracking a bit.

Trip furrowed his brow and double checked his cup for coffee. Still empty. "Actually it's more of an amulet the Beholder wears around their neck till they reach the sacred ground. Sacha says it's harmless to the Beholder, and it carries a great honour."

Phlox sauntered over with a pot of fresh hot coffee. He sat at the end of the table and began pouring. "So, have you decided yet, Commander?" he asked in a less chipper voice than usual. "Because you know, I'd be happy to accompany you... For moral support."

Trip ignored the question and sipped his coffee. "Can you believe that? Ironic isn't it, asking me to take the place of his brother in an honoured position?” He looked absently over Hoshi’s shoulder at the wall behind her.

"All due respect, Commander, but you've proven you're more than honourable in my book," stated Hoshi. “I’ll go with you as well. If you want.”

Trip shrugged dismissively. Then after a moment he smiled gently and thanked her for the comment. Then, he turned to Phlox. "Thank you, doc. I'd appreciate it if you came with me. I could use the support."

The Denobulan clapped his hands, grinning. "Then it's all settled. Tomorrow morning we go to the Cleansing Ceremony." The doctor stood and made his way to the door, muttering to himself about what he should wear and how he’d never been to a Cleansing Ceremony before.

Hoshi and Trip talked a little more, and then retired for the evening- Trip to his engines and Hoshi to her bed.

(More to Come)

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