Chapter 10: Hundert Mann Und Ein Befehl

"This site is called Gateway, where Surak supposedly began his journey into the Forge."

Jon digested the meaning of Soval's statement. One word stuck out in the Vulcan's lesson about Surak.

"You keep saying 'supposedly'. You don't believe Surak did the things they say he did?"

He could see that the old Vulcan was weighing his response carefully.

"He brought logic to Vulcan, in an age we call the Time of Awakening, but his writings from that period no longer exist."

"There must be some record of it," Jon half-asked, half-stated. The idea that order-obsessed people like the Vulcans would misplace their equivalent of the bible was a rather large stretch of the imagination.

"Over the centuries, his followers made copies of his teachings."

"Let me guess. With the originals lost, whatever is left is open to interpretation," John noted with a sardonic smile.

"You find this amusing, captain?"

Soval's voice was oozing defensiveness. The gray-haired alien was either having a little trouble controlling his emotions, or he just couldn't be bothered to hide them in such a remote setting far from any Vulcan who could possibly hear him.

"I find it familiar," Jon replied dryly. "We should get moving."

Trip was sitting at the head of the table, hosting the morning briefing of four officers. The only time he had been sitting on that chair was during that secret mission of Jon with T'Pol and back then he had been left with too little information to get the job done effectively. That would definitely not happen again, so it was time for brainstorming over the findings of the last few days.

"Thank you doctor," he said with a nod when the Denobulan had delivered his report on the repeat analysis of the bomb fragments they had salvaged from the embassy. While the doctor left early, leaving just him, Hoshi, Malcolm and T'Pol, he rubbed his eyes as the exhaustion of the last two days came through.

Not that he had a lot to do in terms of playing captain. The travel to Regulus would take five days so they still had more than two days ahead of them, hotfooting it through neutral space. But with two fleets squaring off, there was a chance he'd find himself in between them again and unlike last time at Paan Mokar, he wanted to be prepared to get involved if necessary, not just making empty threats to do so. That's why the last two nights had mainly been spent going over each and every tactical simulation in Malcolm's arsenal.

"Okay, so unless we're dealing with a 6 months old terrorist that DNA was planted and the captain and the Ambassador are chasing a ghost," Trip summarized when the door had closed behind Phlox. "Hoshi, any luck getting word to them?"

"The geomagnetic interference is too strong, and we're moving away from the planet on top of that," the young officer replied, shaking her head with an apologetic look.

"What do we know about the Syrranites?" he asked with a look to the left side "Malcolm, T'Pol?"

"They are a group of pacifists," T'Pol explained. "They have been vocal in their criticism of the current government for many years, claiming that the High Command is straying from the true teachings of Surak. When Administrator V'Las came to power three years ago, they were forced into hiding."

Trip decided to throw out a wild theory. "Could the High Command have framed them deliberately to silence them?"

"That would imply they have bombed the embassy themselves, or are at least complicit," Malcolm analyzed. "I think we are missing at least one piece of the puzzle. I'd say we are on to something if we can construct a chain of decisions."

"How about that?" Trip said. "We know the Vulcans abducted Hoshi to get to T'Pol. Now putting aside that they have tried to remove her before, I think there's a different reason this time. T'Pol, you said you haven't heard from your mother for almost two years?"

The Vulcan nodded and Trip continued. "When Hoshi broke into the VHC systems, the two of you found that she was sacked shortly after you got a last message from her, and she's still listed as alive. What if she is a Syrranite herself and went into hiding too?"

Silence followed as everyone pondered the pros and cons of his theory. Malcolm made a short hand gesture and Trip could almost see the proverbial light bulb over Malcolm's head.

"If she went into hiding, she would have left a hint for T'Pol telling her where to find her. Get T'Pol back home and follow her as she finds her mum and the group with it; oldest trick in the book."

"But did they really need to bomb the embassy for that?" Hoshi asked doubtfully. "Wouldn't they have framed them for mind-melding or something? Why get us involved? I don't want to toot our own horn, but so far we've been nothing but trouble for the High Command."

Everyone chuckled about Hoshi's remark. Even T'Pol had lifted an eyebrow in amusement.

"Whoever this V'Las is, he isn't someone, who strikes me as overly logical," Malcolm noted. "I've revisited the bit of security recording we have salvaged. All the time you can see humans come in, but not a single Vulcan, except for that hooded figure with the bomb. All the while a whole host of Vulcans leave. I think there were told to leave and the bombing was retaliation for the failed V'Shar mission.

"And that's where we come in. They knew that Earth could realistically send only one ship – us. It was a last ditch effort to get T'Pol back to Vulcan, no doubt. That it cost over forty lives; well it seems they don't deem it too high a price."

"But that does not explain the connection to the attack on Andoria," Trip reminded Malcolm. "How does that fit in?"

"I may explain this," T'Pol and the other three officers looked at her. "We were so far looking for a linear chain of events, but the plan to attack Andoria may well be the start of that chain. Although Administrator V'Las has de-facto dictatorial power, a decision can be overturned if all other Ministers oppose it."

"So he actually had to get rid of the Syrranites first," Malcolm realized and T'Pol nodded.

"Our clan has one Minister in the High Command – Minister Kuvak. He is not a Syrranite, but he has always been cautiously doubtful about the militant tendencies of the administrator's decisions in recent years. A vocal group of pacifists would increase or at least support his doubts. Exposing them as a dangerous threat to Vulcan would be an effective way to bring a doubtful Minister back in line."

"But that's just one Minister," Trip reminded her.

"An unprovoked attack on Andoria is a departure from the teachings of Surak, even from the version perpetuated by the High Command. The administrator would face strong public dissent if just one member of the High Command opposed the decision, yet he would still go through with it."

"That sounds like quite a long-winded way to keep a single minister in line," Malcolm said. "Wouldn't it be easier to have him sacked from the High Command and replaced with a less troublesome yes-man?"

T'Pol shook her head.

"Minister Kuvak is a man of integrity and had a prominent role in negotiating the Paan Mokar accords. It would be hard to fabricate charges against him and even in that case the High Command would face severe public dissent."

"You make it sound like the political situation is not exactly stable on Vulcan," Trip noted. 'Severe public dissent' sounded quite a bit like the Vulcan version of 'we are not far from a staging a revolution'.

"The unmasking of P'Jem as a listening post and its subsequent destruction has caused severe upheaval among civilians," T'Pol said. "My mother told me as much in the last communication I received from her. She was never particularly expressive, especially in writing, but in hindsight I can sense an undercurrent of dissent in her message."

Trip thought for a while, reading the notes he had made on his PADD.

"Okay, let me summarize," he said, looking down at the device. "The High Command plans a strike on Andoria. They plant false signatures at Paan Mokar to lure parts of the Andorian defense fleet away from Regulus. But to push the decision through they need to bring some ministers in line. To do that they decide to frame the most vocal opposition – the Syrranites. Everyone agree so far?"

All three officers answered affirmative.

"First they have to find them though, and going by the theory that T'Pol's mom is a Syrranite, they try to frame and repatriate T'Pol for which they abduct Hoshi to get the dirt on her. Once T'Pol is back they keep tabs on her, hoping she'll lead them to her mother and the Syrranites."

Again all three agreed.

"When the abduction failed and they lost seventeen of their agents, they plan to take revenge and bomb the Embassy and plant evidence that points to a high-ranking member of the Syrranites. As a side-effect they hope to get a last chance to get hold of T'Pol."

"I think that's as good a theory as we'll ever have," Malcolm said.

Trip nodded. "Okay, then that's what we'll go by. Malcolm, I want you to start a tactical analysis. We haven't got much to present the Andorians. Every bit we can find could be helpful."

Malcolm nodded and Trip looked at Hoshi, who seemed to want to say something as well if her hand signal was anything to go by.

"Hoshi, one moment then you can say your bit," he said before addressing the ship's science officer. "T'Pol we should still have the signature of Shran's ship. I'd like you to work with Hoshi on increasing our sensor resolution. I'd rather deal with Shran than any Andorian we've never met before."

She acknowledged his command.

"Hoshi, you wanted to add something?"

"Not to this topic, no," she said. "I know we've agreed not to speak about private things on duty time, but I would like to make an exception."

"Everyone agreed?"

His question got the nod from Malcolm and T'Pol. "Ok, what is it, hon?"

"Trip, I know we've all been a bit under stress. We've all been busy the last three days and I can see that T'Pol is completely tied up in knots for reasons we all know."

The Vulcan tried to protest, but Hoshi stopped her predictable denial.

"T'Pol, meditation only gets you so far," Hoshi pointed out and turned to Trip. "Can you give us a two-hour break, T'Pol and me?"

Trip felt a slight blush of shame. In his obsession to do a better job at being the captain this time, he had completely neglected T'Pol's biological needs, subconsciously relying on Hoshi and Malcolm to help out.

"Take all the time you need," he said, slightly abashed and with an apologetic look at his better half.

"And if I may add," Hoshi continued. "You and Malcolm could unwind a bit as well, even if you don't need it for biological reasons. I'd suggest the two of you drop by in Malcolm's and my quarters at twenty-hundred. We have two days of nothing happening ahead, but after that it could be curtains for all of us. The two of you need to unwind as well, especially you, Trip."

He and Malcolm exchanged a bemused look, but Malcolm just shrugged with a half-smile.

"You heard what the lady said – twenty-hundred."

Trip shook his head, forcing a smile. "I love it when Hoshi goes all morale officer on us."

Jon was still breathing hard. Even night time temperatures were scorching in this damn place and the higher gravity didn't help either. It felt like his boots were made of concrete. The last thing he had needed was being chased up a dune by what looked like an oversized saber-toothed bear.

He started to believe that just about everyone and everything on Vulcan was stubborn as a mule at saddle time. After failing to help itself to a midnight snack, the damn beast could be seen pacing at the foot of the dune. The bright light of Vulcan's moon T'Kuth reflected in its eyes.

"How long till it starts losing interest in us," he asked with a side-glance at Soval. Despite his age the Vulcan had been quite agile and didn't look the least bit affected by the sprint up the dune.

"Days, at least," the Ambassador explained dryly. "They are very persistent creatures. When I was a child, I had one as a pet."

Jon looked at the Vulcan in disbelief. "You had one of these?"

"The domesticated variant is smaller ... slightly. They are given to children to teach them responsibility."

The captain just shook his head. Sometimes Vulcans really took the cake. What was wrong with - say - a bunny or whatever the Vulcan equivalent was?

"I believe you have a pet as well," Soval reminded him.

"Porthos doesn't eat me if I'm late refilling his food bowl," John noted.

"A Vulcan child would never be late feeding his Sehlat."

"Imagine that," John said sarcastically and shook his head again.

Hoshi pulled the blue undershirt over her head and her breasts bounced free. She glanced down at her chest. Even more than two weeks after the surgery it still felt absolutely great seeing that there actually was something substantial to bounce free. Since this would be all about T'Pol, she wouldn't have had to undress actually, but since the Vulcan had to, they had gone to her quarters and the temperature was cranked up to the T'Pol's comfort level.

Pushing her underpants down, she looked over at her charge. The Vulcan was already stark naked and was setting up the folding biobed they had borrowed from sickbay. She had never seen T'Pol fidget before, making it clear that meditation had not been entirely able to offset the effects of three days of sexual deprivation.

Hoshi wasn't one who was too comfortable with going long periods without sex herself, but she didn't want to imagine what it would be like actually needing it every day. As much as she liked doing it with another woman, and with T'Pol in particular, she knew she would gladly give up on it when T'Pol's biological distress was over in a few months' time. T'Pol was good at hiding it, but Hoshi knew how humiliating that perpetual state of horniness was for her Vulcan friend.

She helped T'Pol fixing the folding biobed and covered the surface with large towels. Upon her indication, T'Pol laid down on her stomach.

"Close your eyes and enjoy it," Hoshi said and kissed the Vulcan on the cheek.

Rubbing some massage oil between her palms, she started to massage T'Pol's shoulders with gentle strokes.

Soval kept his glance on the Sehlat still pacing at the foot of the dune. The human next to him had succumbed to his exhaustion, his head resting on his backpack.

Since the predator seemed patient enough to wait for another chance to devour them, it gave the Vulcan time to reflect on the tumultuous last days.