Chapter 9: Explosive Aftermath

Jon walked into Maxwell's office hoping to find an answer to the question of why he had received a note saying that he was expected to report to the Admiral before collecting two of his officers from the brig at Starfleet Headquarters.

"Have a seat, Jon," the Admiral said after the captain had reported in officially. Jon looked at his long-time friend expectantly. "I guess you have a few question?"

"You bet," he replied, trying not getting too angry. "I don't know when that changed, but normally it was customary to state the reason why someone was taken into custody. Have I missed a memo somewhere?"

"You were not told, because the reason has a T-1 classification," Maxwell said calmly.

He took the PADD from the Admiral and entered his full security clearance code. His eyes got wider and wider with every line he read. According to this report three of his officers had stormed the Vulcan embassy in full combat gear and killed no less than seventeen Vulcans, some of them rather brutally in fact. Considering that he was only to collect two officers, it left a rather obvious question to ask.

"Who didn't make it?"

"They are all alive, but more on that later," Forest said. "The important bit is, the Vulcans want to sweep the whole thing under the rug and won't press any charges. Neither will we, although we will take disciplinary action for violating away mission protocol. They'll most likely end up with a reprimand."

"Now that's very lenient of Starfleet and that tells me there's more to it," Jon said letting a good dose of sarcasm seep into his voice.

"Your coms officer had been abducted by the V'Shar. As part of the agreement with the Vulcans we won't ask why. The diplomatic fallout would be too big if word got round that they abducted a human. We have enough problems with xenophobic groups as it is."

John gasped. Hoshi of all people had been abducted?

"I guess that explains why she is reported to be in Starfleet Medical?" he asked and the Admiral nodded.

"I've heard she's gotten out of it better than expected. I've already approved that you can visit her."

"That leaves the question why it became so violent. I've known them for years. T'Pol is barely able to shoot someone even if her life is threatened and Trip is not exactly the violent type. Reed is not someone I'd cross needlessly, but he's not a cold-blooded killer. Yet I'm supposed to believe that all three of them went in there and staged a massacre?"

Jon wanted to know what had really happened. He refused to believe that he was being told everything. He refused to believe that his officers had done, what he was being told.

"Ambassador Soval has agreed to talk to you. Reed is currently in medical care with the Vulcans. He's the one who killed all those people. Tucker and T'Pol never fired a single shot. To me it sounds like a psychosis frankly, but Soval believes that he knows what happened and that Reed didn't act entirely of his own volition if his theory proves true."

"Looks like I'll get some mileage today," Jon snorted, still confused, but also worried about Malcolm and Hoshi.

"You should have had me shot," Malcolm said.

"On the contrary," the Vulcan said. "First of all you should know that I am well aware of your service with Earth's secretive Section 31."

As expected the human reacted with visible surprise, even shock. The V'Shar had informed him about the organization almost a decade ago. What he had not known was that this information had come from within the Embassy. Just like the monastery at P'Jem, his embassy had been misused to spy on another species in violation of all diplomatic accords. He found it increasingly hard to accept recent decisions by the High Command.

The human was sitting before him in his office and he looked very different from the aggressive warrior, who had stormed the Embassy less than forty-eight hours ago.

"Have you, in your time with this organization, ever encountered a Vulcan named Paror?" he asked and to his surprise the human looked back at him in disgust and snorted.

"Oh, you bet," he said. "The 'faith healer'. We all met him and funnily we all got some souvenir out of it. He would grab you in the face like that, mutter something in Vulcan and then the lights went out. Later I was told I had suffered from hypoglycemia. Some others had heat-stroke or whatever. Word was that the same happened as a farewell if someone left the section."

The demonstration of the human left no doubt that he had indeed been subjected to an involuntary mind-meld.

"Paror was executed three years ago for treason, when it was found that he had worked for the humans. What you have experienced is called a mind-meld. It is my belief that you have been conditioned for use as a fearless warrior and assassin."

"You mean I was brain-washed?" the human asked back and Soval could easily see what the impact on the young man was when he realized that he had been violated. "We'd always thought this was some kind of probing if we were up to the job."

"What you called 'farewell' was a second mind-meld to undo the conditioning. However, after losing Paror's services, your organization was no longer able to reverse the effects of the conditioning. And since mind-melds are considered deviant behavior by the current High Command, they did of course have problems finding a suitable replacement."

"There goes the chance of finding someone then," the human said and Soval heard the frustration and resignation in the man's voice.

"I can perform the meld," he replied calmly and waited for the human's reaction. Lieutenant Reed was a rare example of a human, who had a strong control over his emotions, but he couldn't hide the surprise at hearing this offer.

"I do wonder, Ambassador. I have heard many names that you were called, mostly of the unflattering variety, but deviant was not among them. In fact, I'm beginning to think you are not quite the man we used to believe you are."

"My public image is a necessary misrepresentation of my true nature," Soval admitted. "I have grown quite fond of humanity, but were I to show or admit this I would lose my post immediately to be succeeded by my deputy Tos. I believe that would be detrimental to Human-Vulcan relations."

"When do you want to do this meld?" the human asked and Soval noticed that he had not given much of a response to his admission, nor deemed it worthy of a verbal response.

"I shall perform the meld in three hours. I need time to prepare for the procedure."

He observed the human, who acknowledged his instructions and stood patiently, waiting for the two security officers, who had come in on his signal and shackled the Lieutenant before leaving to escort him back to the medical ward.

John sat down next to the biobed. Hoshi's eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn't sleeping. Was she trying to shut the world out the way she did after her rescue from the alien ship just a few weeks ago?

"How are you Hoshi?" he asked softly. She slowly opened her eyes, but he could see only exhaustion and sadness in the dark beautiful orbs that looked back at him.

"I'm better. I've got a bit of experience with being abducted lately, wouldn't you say?"

Her voice was flat, utter resignation colored her speech.

"You know my past, Captain. I just did what I used to do back then when it comes to influencing men. I showed them my tits and my pussy. It worked."

He wasn't really buying this 'simple' explanation, but he wasn't much of a counselor. Yet, the offer should be made, considering he was one of the few people, who knew of her past that was mainly driven by a lack of self-esteem.

"If you need someone to talk, my door's always open," he said, gently taking her hand. She acknowledged the gesture with a nod and the tiniest of smiles, but it was not genuine. She might say she was better now, but that just meant she had come from pretty low down.

"Do you know what will happen to them?"

That was at least something he could help with.

"I'll collect Trip and T'Pol from the brig. There won't be any charges. Probably just a reprimand as a formality. Do you want me to bring them here when I've gotten them out?"

"You should allow them to run to the next motel or bring them to the ship on the double," Hoshi said, looking at him with such intensity that he immediately understood she wasn't joking. "T'Pol will have other problems and only Trip can help with those."

He didn't ask any further. Apparently the after-effects of the virus infection were still present for his science officer, even if they weren't known to him in detail. And it was not his business anyway.

"Malcolm is still in Vulcan custody."

"I've never seen him like that. It wasn't the Malcolm I know," Hoshi said, her voice breaking.

Her words were barely above a whisper, but the grief in them was palpable. She believed she had lost the man she loved.

"It wasn't the Malcolm you know," he said and gently rubbed the back of her hand. "I have yet to hear the details from Soval, but the Ambassador says that Malcolm was not acting of his own volition. If he's right, you'll get him back, the right Malcolm."

She looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes, but he could also see a glimmer of hope. He stood slowly, as he didn't want to leave his two officers in the brig any longer than necessary.

"Thank you, captain."

He smiled at her and then left.

Assistant inspector, Sublieutenant Stel reported to the Administrator, still not knowing why his Excellency had summoned him directly instead of having Security Minister Tuvan act as his liaison as would have been the usual protocol.

"Stel, you are a member of clan dvinsu ekon-ak, like myself."

"Yes, Excellency."

He observed the Administrator as closely as was allowed without running the risk of being accused of unseemly staring. The older male appeared unusually agitated.

"There are dangerous tendencies on Vulcan," the Administrator explained. "A radical group of insurgents has gone into hiding in the Forge. We need to act before they can cause more disruption and discontent. This operation can only be conducted by a trustworthy clansman – you."

"Yes, Excellency. If I may ask; is Subcommander T'Pol connected to that group? I have read a most peculiar report from Earth."

"No, but her mother is part of that radical faction. We had hoped to repatriate the Subcommander by forceful means, and use her to find the group. But the humans killed seventeen V'Shar operatives to keep her out of our reach. We cannot afford another attempt."

"Yes, Excellency," Stel answered with a nod.

"Report to my office after the Council session tomorrow. You will receive further orders then."

Stel nodded and left the chamber.

Jon would have liked to ask them a lot of questions, but right now was not the time. Trip had inquired shortly about Malcolm and he had given him what little info he had himself. His own questions would have to wait as it was obvious that T'Pol was in bad shape. It felt really weird, knowing that this "bad shape" was down to a lack of sex, but then he didn't really want to know what it did to a person as private as T'Pol to be forced into such a biological emergency and live with the awareness that outside parties knew about it.

He put the engine in idle to let the two of them get off the shuttle as he wanted to go back down again immediately.

"Trip, you two take the rest of the day off. I'm sure Anna won't mind being in command for a few more hours."

His softly spoken order was acknowledged by a grateful nod from the chief engineer. T'Pol appeared to be past caring. She just scrambled out of the craft dragging Trip with her.

This was anything but stimulating, but T'Pol was not in a condition to think about his comfort. Deprived of not only the sexual relief that she needed pretty much daily, but also of the solitude to meditate properly, her control was in tatters. Thankfully she had prepared him for that possibility many weeks ago.

This explanation had been an abstract concept so far, but there was no doubt that he was on the receiving end of the roughest blowjob of his life. T'Pol's head was basically just bobbing up and down frantically and sometimes her teeth brushed against the sensitive flesh of his erect organ. The noises she made wouldn't be out of place on a farm.

Trip let himself fall back onto the bed and wrestled her into a sixty-nine position. While T'Pol greedily swallowed his tool again, he grabbed her buttocks roughly and kneaded them forcefully. Thankfully her biological situation made her incredibly sensitive in places, or maybe she was just naturally sensitive.

Twirling his tongue around her pleasure nub inside the folds of her pussy, he could work on having her cum hard, while adding the necessary rough element by manhandling her butt-cheeks and shoving two fingers into her rear. She growled in response and continued to administer the most unsatisfying blowjob ever.

Jon was getting restless. He had been told that Ambassador Soval would be with him shortly, which T'Pol would probably have defined as 'an arbitrarily chosen time between thirty seconds and ten point three minutes' or something inane as that. But he had been sitting here for thirty minutes now and nothing had happened.

Just as he was about to stand up and pace the room, a side-entrance opened and Soval was led in, supported by two younger Vulcans. The captain gasped upon seeing the old man, who normally looked calm, collected and utterly controlled at all times.

Soval's face was ashen-pale, his eyes barely focused. The normally impeccably styled Vulcan mop-top was a gray-haired mess as if he had spent the last two hours with his fingers in an electric socket. Greenish bruises were visible on his face and neck.

Helped by the two Vulcans, Soval fell into the chair behind his desk with a soft groan. Jon watched the scene in utter shock. The cranky old ambassador had not exactly been a friend of his, but considering the short phase of thawing relations in the aftermath of his role in the Weytahn-slash-Paan Mokar crisis, he had thought that maybe there would be a day when they could work together. Seeing the Ambassador in such a state was shocking.

"I must apologize for my appearance," the Vulcan said, his voice weak with exhaustion, but he trailed off. "I..."

Seeing Soval nearly pass out, Jon fetched what looked like a carafe with water in it and poured some of the liquid into a glass. He sniffed it and it was odorless. Hoping that Soval was not keeping a carafe of odorless poison in his office he walked around the desk and offered the glass to the Vulcan, but the Ambassador's shaking hands were hardly able to hold it. Vulcan inhibition be hanged he put his arm behind Soval's neck and more or less fed him the water. The contents of the glass were emptied in large gulps. Jon refilled and repeated the procedure.