Title: Caught in the Act
Author: Ginny Powell
Act IV - Escape
Scene 1
Meanwhile, back on the Bridge, Lieutenant Reed tried to concentrate on his work, but he kept finding himself looking at the closed Ready Room door. It seemed like the Captain and Gabreefa had been in there a long time. He couldn�t imagine what they were doing. Well, actually, he could imagine what they were doing, and that�s what bothered him. But he couldn�t think of anything he could or should do about it, so he went back to his work, only to glance at the door once again minutes later.
He was distracted from this cycle by the whoosh of the turbolift. Trip stepped off and moved to hand a data pad to T�Pol.
�Here�s those readings ya asked for,� he said to the Vulcan. She thanked him and turned to get right to studying the results, assuming the Commander would leave.
But he didn�t seem to want to. He looked around the Bridge for something to occupy him, caught Lieutenant Reed�s eye, and sauntered over to his friend.
�Hey, Malcolm, how�s it goin�?�
�Just fine, Commander.� Malcolm really wasn�t in the mood to chat. He looked down at a console, pretending to be busy, hoping it would discourage Trip. No such luck.
�So, uh, where�s the Cap�n?�
�In his Ready Room.�
�Oh.� Trip looked around the Bridge again, obviously a bit ill at ease. �And, uh, where�s Gabreefa?�
�With the Captain.�
�Oh.� Trip glanced at the closed door. Then he leaned closer to Malcolm and lowered his voice. �How long they been in �ere?�
Malcolm looked up, his eyes narrowing. �Too long,� he replied quietly. The two men stared at each other, understanding dawning on both.
Malcolm broke the gaze when, over Trip�s shoulder, he saw T�Pol moving toward the Ready Room.
�Uh, Sub-Commander?� he called hurriedly. �I wouldn�t bother the Captain just now.�
Trip turned around, realized what was happening, joined Malcolm�s effort. �Yeah, he�s in a very important meeting.� He might not be happy about what the Captain was most likely up to, but he was his friend. And hell, even an enemy didn�t deserve to be caught in flagrante delicto by T�Pol, of all people.
Malcolm nodded enthusiastically in agreement. �Very important.�
T�Pol paused, raised an eyebrow at the two officers. �The Captain did not leave orders that he was not to be disturbed when he gave me command of the Bridge.�
�Well, yeah, that�s just kinda understood,� Trip tried again, looking to Malcolm for support and receiving it.
�Even so,� T�Pol rejoined calmly, �I believe he will find what I have to show him of sufficient interest to warrant an interruption.� She resumed her path to the door.
Trip looked to Malcolm, his eyes widening in alarm.
�Uh, and what is it you have to show him, Sub-Commander?� Reed parried, merely hoping to buy the Captain some time at this point. �Can we see it?�
T�Pol stopped once more, pivoted to look piercingly at the two officers. �That is for the Captain to decide,� she intoned, and without further delay she turned, closed the distance to the door, and pressed the door chime. Behind her, Malcolm and Trip waited nervously for the Captain�s response.
And waited.
After a minute of silence, T�Pol pressed the chime again. �Sir, it�s T�Pol,� she called.
This time there was a muffled reply. �Yeah, yeah, I�m coming, just a minute.�
Trip had to turn to hide his face. Malcolm had to settle for covering his mouth with his hand. T�Pol glanced briefly at the two men, then turned away, choosing to ignore their incomprehensible antics, and went back to waiting patiently.
Another full minute later, the door finally opened to reveal a slightly miffed, but fully dressed, Captain Archer.
�This had better be important,� he said a bit too gruffly.
�It is, sir,� T�Pol replied, handing him a data pad. �I asked Commander Tucker to rig the maneuvering thrusters to emit various particle beams around our entire perimeter to a depth of ten kilometers. When we tried honorian particles, sensors detected several anomalies, which I then used to construct a three-dimensional image.�
�And?� Archer said, but he wasn�t really listening. Instead he was watching Gabreefa, who had slipped out of the Ready Room and had made her way over to Ensign Mayweather. As Archer watched, she touched the helmsman�s hair while he smiled shyly up at her. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Trip and Malcolm, watching the alien woman with studiously blank faces.
�And,� T�Pol pulled the Captain�s attention back to her, �this is what it looks like.� She pointed to the pad Archer held but had yet to look at. He dutifully glanced at it, and was about to glance away again, when he realized what he was looking at.
The silhouette of a ship.
A really big ship.
T�Pol had been right; there was a cloaked mother ship out there. Most likely, Gabreefa had been sent from it. This was all some elaborate deception. But to what end? Once again, he looked away from T�Pol to find Gabreefa, this time with suspicion in his eyes.
But she was no longer near Mayweather. With increasing alarm, Archer�s eyes searched the Bridge, but the alien was nowhere to be found. Then, rising over T�Pol�s shoulder, he saw a hand � a blue hand � heading for the Vulcan�s hair.
And suddenly it all made sense.
�Genetic enhancements,� he heard the Doctor say, remembered the picture on the monitor of the microscopic boxes hidden under Gabreefa�s fingernails. �Storage containers?� he�d asked. �To store what?� �She has them other places in her body, too,� he heard the Doctor�s voice again, superimposed over the memory of himself locked in Gabreefa�s embrace.
�Stop!� Archer�s hand shot out, capturing Gabreefa�s wrist before she could reach the Vulcan.
�Captain?� Gabreefa asked, her expression one of injured innocence.
�Sub-Commander, step away,� Archer ordered. The Science Officer complied with an arched brow. �Hoshi, get me the Doctor.�
The Communications Officer, who had been staring at the tableau before her in shocked amazement, hurried to do her Captain�s bidding. Moments later, the Doctor�s voice could be heard throughout the Bridge. �Captain?�
�Doctor, those biomechanical boxes you showed me, can they be emptied?�
�Theoretically, I suppose, though I would worry about damage to-�
�I�m sending Gabreefa to you now. She is not to leave until every storage device on her has been cleared. Mr. Reed, please escort our guest to Sickbay.�
Malcolm rose slowly from his chair, but did not move toward where the Captain still held Gabreefa. �Captain, I don�t understand. Why-�
�Jon, what�s goin� on?� Trip demanded at the same time.
�Jonathan, please,� Gabreefa pleaded, tugging at the wrist he held with a vice-like grip.
�She wasn�t sent here looking for help for a dying world,� Archer explained, his eyes boring into Gabreefa, his voice dripping with righteous indignation. �She was sent here to gather samples of our DNA, in�various ways, for her people to use to genetically enhance themselves. Isn�t that right, Gabreefa? Is anything you said to me true? Any of it?�
For a long, tense moment, they stared at each other, Archer�s face contorted with rage and disappointment, Gabreefa�s with fear and betrayal.
Then she dropped the fa�ade.
�I- I�m sorry,� she said, looking down in shame. �My people are in need, in need of new genetic material, we�re dying out, you have to understand-� When she looked up, her face was streaked with tears that glistened in shades of violet against the blue of her skin. �There is so much diversity on this ship, and you were all so generous-�
�Mr. Reed,� Archer almost whispered.
�Yes, sir.� Malcolm hurried to his Captain�s side, training his phase pistol at the enemy woman. Though she looked at him with pleading eyes, his aim did not waver.
But when Archer released her wrist, and Malcolm gestured for her to proceed to the turbolift, she stood her ground.
�I�m sorry.� She looked around her, meeting the eyes of Archer, Reed, and Tucker. �I have to go now.� And she pressed the big toe of one foot with the other.
Outside, right where T�Pol�s model had shown it was, the mother ship uncloaked. Of the same overlapping brown as the scout ship, only part of it was visible through the Bridge viewport, but that part was quite impressive. The thing was huge. Mayweather saw it first.
�What the hell?� he said. Everyone turned and gaped. Then a flash of blue light filled the Bridge, and everyone turned to see Gabreefa disappear. When they turned once more to the viewport, all they saw was the distorted rear end as the mother ship went to warp.
Scene 2
�I still think we should have tried to pursue it,� Malcolm sulked, taking another swig from the bottle he held. He really disliked the taste of bourbon, but that was all the Captain had left, or was willing to admit he had left. And he was rapidly nearing that stage at which the taste no longer bothered him. He planned to continue until he reached the stage where nothing bothered him.
�We did try,� Trip said impatiently. �But they slipped through our fingers like a greased pig.� He took a swig of his own bottle, then set it down with a thump on the table before him. They were in the formal dining room, the mostly uneaten remains of dinner littering the table.
�Besides, Malcolm,� Archer put in, �shooting at stuff isn�t always the best answer.� Unlike the others, he drank from a glass, and the bottle from which he poured was still mostly full.
�Maybe so, but it would make me feel better,� Malcolm replied sullenly. The others had to agree with that, and all three fell into a brooding silence.
�We should make a pact,� Trip said after a few minutes. �That no woman shall ever come before our friendship.� He raised his bottle in salute.
�Here, here,� the other men agreed, raising their own containers of choice to clink solidly together over the center of the table. Then all three took a long drink to seal the deal.
Another silence settled over the room, until Trip broke it once again.
�But remember, I got there first.�
Archer chuckled. �That�s �cause she was saving the best for last,� he quipped, with a smug smile. Trip chuckled appreciatively, and then both turned to look expectantly at Malcolm.
But he was not ready with a snappy line of his own. Instead, he was slumped down deep in his chair, the bottle of bourbon tilted at a precarious angle in his limp fingers. Archer leaned over and rescued the bottle. Reed tried to protest, but only ended up slumping further into his chair.
�Well, gentlemen,� the Captain announced, standing slowly. �I think it�s time we all called it a night.�
�Goo� night, Jon,� Trip drawled, waggling all but the index finger and thumb of the hand that held his bottle.
�Good night, Trip.� And Archer retired from the room, a bottle in each hand.
Trip sat for a long time, listening to Malcolm snore and staring out the viewport. He wondered if there really was a planet Harac, and if they would ever find it. Then he slumped forward, his head resting on his crossed arms on the table, his lips curled into a contented smile.
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