Chapter 19: The Last Duty

Rear Admiral Yurij Radionovich Zhukov tried to look at the view screen without giving away the uneasiness he experienced when looking at Admiral Gardner. His superior looked back at him somewhat glassy-eyed and Zhukov started to wonder if the pressure of war had led some of the higher-ups into having a drug problem.

"Zhukov, Reed has gone rogue on us and stole Buran. They should show up on your doorstep at any time and I want the whole lot apprehended. They have five Vulcans, one Denobulan, three humans and an Andorian aboard. That should be no problem for a MACO team."

"Aye, Sir. Do we know what Reed's motives are?"

"T'Pol is kicking the bucket because of some of that Vulcan mental malarkey between her and Tucker and Reed has gotten it into his head that it would make a damn difference when he brings her to him. Tucker will croak anyway. It's a waste of time, but he has disobeyed my direct order and went anyway. It's better to let her die, too, so we can make fucking heroes out of both of them."

"With all due respect, Sir!" Zhukov gasped at the cynicism of the supreme commander. "It's not a given that Tucker will die. Doctors Phlox and Lucas have run themselves ragged performing one emergency surgery after the other and only this morning they've updated his status from 'extremely critical' to just 'critical'."

"I've read the reports, Zhukov. He's brain damaged, so even if he survives he'll end up a vegetable. We don't need cripples, we need heroes - human fucking heroes. Why was my order not followed to switch off the fucking machines?"

"We can't," Zhukov said. "We have Tucker's living will. The Sato-Reeds have been nominated to have the last word if he and T'Pol are unable to articulate themselves. And as you might know, Commander Sato-Reed isn't quite willing to become a hero for you. She's very much alive."

"Don't get sassy with me, Ivan," his superior growled, incensed by the sarcastic remark. "You know how hot Gutierrez is on making Commodore and taking your job. You'd better get back to executing my orders – to – the – letter. Did I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly clear, Sir," Zhukov said, threatened back into obedience.

"Apprehend that lot and make sure T'Pol accidentally falls out of an airlock. If she's orbiting the station, the Reeds will have no will to execute. Harris can deal with Tucker. And you better make sure nobody ever learns of this call. Harris hates snitches."

"No need to worry, Sir."

"Too late, scumbag," Hoshi growled under her breath as she stored the recording on her PADD. They should have known better than messing with the person who had installed most of the communication equipment when they rebuilt the station. She had grown suspicious after Zhukov had 'suggested' turning off the machinery that kept Trip alive. And now, shockingly, her premonition had been proven true.

Fighting down the horror about Trip's devastating medical prognosis, she pushed the button to summon Phlox.

"I have no news about Captain Tucker, Hoshi," the doctor told her, forestalling the question he'd had to answer several times over the last four days. She looked to the right to let him inspect the large cut across the left half of her head that had been stitched. Since large parts of her hair had had to be shaved off for that she had just made them remove the whole lot. Malcolm would freak at the loss of her long mane.

"Bring me to an empty examination room," she whispered when Phlox's head was near enough to hear her. Hearing the Denobulan take a breath to ask something in return, she cut him off.

"Don't ask questions, please, Phlox. Just bring me somewhere where we can talk alone!" she urged him in a whisper and in his native language. She saw the grin wiped off his face. Bless him, Phlox hadn't lost his ability to know when things were serious.

She heard the click of the biobed's brakes as he released them. Holding on to the sides of the bed, holding the blanket up with her teeth, she steadied herself as he pushed her along the corridor.

"Do you need assistance, doctor?" she heard one of the passing Vulcan medics ask, but Phlox deflected the offer easily by ordering the Vulcan to support Dr. Lucas in the ER unit. Go Phlox! she thought in grim amusement.

As soon as they entered the examination room, she awkwardly sat up, wincing at the pain the movement caused. The thin blanket fell off her bare body.

"Phlox, can you somehow wrap me in a bandage, so that this won't break open?" she asked, pointing at the incision site from the surgery that had left her without her damaged spleen and a single kidney. The other kidney was now – hopefully – doing its job in Trip's body.

"Hoshi, what are you doing?" he asked, and she nearly smiled as he took out the bandages anyway. "You're hardly out of surgery. You shouldn't even be getting out of bed yet."

"Starfleet has ordered Zhukov to kill T'Pol," she said in a disgusted voice, starting the replay.

"Stop it!" Phlox demanded half-way into the recording and Hoshi didn't remember ever having seen such a grotesque grimace of rage on the Denobulan's face. She stopped the replay.

"Whatever you plan to do, I will do it myself," he said in grim determination, and she had no doubt about his sincerity,

"No Phlox," the petite linguist said, gently cupping the doctor's face with her hands. "I'm grateful for your offer, but there are hundreds here fighting for their lives. They need you. Just patch me up so I can move without my skin ripping open. You don't know the communications systems anyway."

"Then let me at least get you some clothes first," Phlox said as he wrapped her midriff in a bandage. "You are completely unclothed."

"Trust me Phlox, I have experience being naked," she snorted, pointing at the ceiling. "Just patch me up and help me into the crawl space up there."

Having patched her up, Phlox removed a ceiling panel and jumped back off the biobed. After having taped the PADD to her thigh, Hoshi slung her arms around him and kissed him gently on the ridge that surrounded his right eye.

"Thank you Phlox," she whispered, releasing him from her embrace. She took his PADD and entered a number. "Contact Amanda and Terval on this frequency, tell them to meet me in the sweet spot. Make sure Zhukov doesn't notice. And ask Amanda to bring a uniform for me."

She saw his accepting nod and stepped on his interlaced hands to be hoisted up into the opening.

"Heck," she groaned, as her attempts to crawl up into the cramped space caused pain in the damaged areas of her body. "Trip always joked that I'd streak the station one day."

"I'm not going to do that!" Jon shouted back at the image of Rear Admiral Zhukov on the view screen. "I'd rather resign than execute this order. If T'Pol is in danger, she has to be brought to the hospital. That's what Trip and his people built it for, goddammit! I don't care how and why Buran came here."

"Gardner's orders were abundantly clear. First and foremost, the crew of Buran has to be apprehended. What happens with the Vulcan is subject to our decision when the rogue crew is in the brig. Follow your orders or face the consequences, Commodore. Zhukov out."

What was it, Trip once said?" Jon asked lieutenant Kusnezova. "I believe it was fuck off. He even could have done so in Russian."

The Russian lady at the comms console laughed grimly. But is was a laugh of sarcasm, not amusement. "Ёб твою мать, is the phrase you're looking for, Commodore."

"Yeah, that," Archer grumbled.

Amanda laughed in surprise when a heavily bandaged Hoshi glided up the tube towards the sweet spot. She had expected that Hoshi had discharged herself from hospital in her underwear or one of those open-at-the-back cape jobs people wore after surgery, but the petite Asian came gliding up to them stark naked. Poor Terval was almost spraining a neck muscle in his abashed determination to look away.

"It's okay Terval. It's not like I could compete with your woman," Hoshi groaned as she landed painfully on her butt. Amanda handed her the overall and then helped her remove the PADD she had taped to her thigh and don the garment in the zero G environment. It was visible that the commander was in pain. Bless him, Terval fought down his apprehension and started to help her, too, even if he barely dared to touch the slender woman, keeping any contact to a minimum as if Hoshi's body was made of hot molten lava.

"So what's this all about, Hoshi?" Amanda asked, pulling up the zip of Hoshi's uniform once they had restored modesty and Terval was able to relax.

Wordlessly Hoshi played the recording and Amanda's blood started to boil. Before the recording ended, she produced two phase pistols from the various pockets in her MACO suit, handing them out to Hoshi and her chosen before loading the pulse rifle she was carrying over her shoulder. "We'll take the station!"

Exchanging a look with Terval, each of them grabbed one of Hoshi's arms and pushed off the ceiling, gliding down through the reduced gravity environment, carrying the wounded commander between them

Malcolm wanted nothing more than leave sickbay and get on with the mission, except that it was almost complete. While he had been out cold, recovering from killing his evil alter-ego, T'Len and Solan had made hay and blasted through a Vortex and they were now twelve hours from Salem One at warp five. Something inside him, the feeling that something big was to happen, had kept him here – despite the fact that T'Para was severely interrupting his verbal self-castigation.

"Stop it, young man," the Eldest Mother admonished him impatiently. "You are not to blame for what has transpired. Which part of 'you were violated' is so hard to understand for you without additional guidance?"

"With all due respect madam, you have definitely spent too much time conversing with Trip," Malcolm sighed, letting his head sink back onto the biobed's pillow trying to hide his fear behind biting sarcasm. After all, the old woman had seen his inner thoughts.

"I am laboring under the assumption that it was time well invested," he heard her reply. Somehow it was surreal to lie on a hospital bed a mere half-metre from a woman who basically amounted to the Queen of a huge Vulcan clan, trading sarcastic barbs. He wished the wise old matriarch would just read him the Riot Act.

"Why are you trying so hard to incriminate yourself, young one?" she asked, and he saw her struggling to sit up.

He didn't even try to understand why she seemed to know what he thought. He swayed back and forth as a wave of nausea hit him when he also sat up. The sensation subsided quickly, however, and he found himself in a battle of stares with the matriarch.

"Because I hope someone will punish me for what I have destroyed," he pleaded in anguish. "There is no point in pretending. You've seen my mind, madam – or both minds until recently. You have seen what wonderful gift Trip and T'Pol have given me by offering me their friendship and what did I give in return? I ogled his wife while he was getting mutilated."

"And I thought Charles was illogical," the matriarch replied dryly. "Blaming yourself for what happened to Charles is patently illogical, young one. As a result you also have no reason to consider yourself guilty for what you did at the time. I have followed the life of all four of you since you first contacted me over a year ago. I have seen such closeness only once in my life time. Not even Soval knows about it."

"Except that he will soon," a deadpan reply from behind a privacy screen announced.

"No he won't," a female voice announced and Malcolm stifled a tired laugh as he heard Feezal wheel Soval's biobed out into the corridor. Even the matriarch seemed to be amused in her roundabout way.

"Why do you blame yourself for something that was not avoidable?" she asked, returning to full seriousness.

"Depends on what you deem unavoidable," Malcolm replied. "Me not being with them? Trip getting hurt while I stare at his wife's naked arse? Me developing – how do you say? - an 'affection' for her?"

"I understand your frustration, young one. You are in many ways as unexperienced in dealing with your emotions as T'Pol. The affection for T'Pol you are so displeased with has been with you long before now. You would not have accepted an unspeakable burden like you did at the Tolaris tribunal had it not been with you already. Denial is a powerful force. Believe me, Malcolm, Vulcans are experts in denial."

"Denial is a necessary force here, ma'am," he replied, shaking his head in disbelief about the pseudo-tolerance babble of the matriarch. "I have taken my marriage vows before Hoshi and the world. The moral absolutes we have sworn to uphold have been the very fabric of human society for ages. I can't believe you as a Vulcan would just disregard such things or try to encourage me to do so!"

"Do not assume to know what I am thinking, young man. You remember your wedding day most vividly, which gives me the privilege to know what you have sworn. You have vowed to 'love her, comfort her, to honor her and to keep her in sickness and in health, in prosperity and adversity as long as you both shall live'. Yet you did the same for T'Pol. You risked your own self-respect to enable the trial. You have risked your life for her more than once. You have accepted guaranteed incarceration for stealing the ship in a bid to save her life."

"That's what friends do ma'am." he declared dryly, but in truth he wasn't even sounding convincing to himself.

"Has Hoshi ever called in question your upholding of the vows?"

"No."

"Then why are you blaming yourself? And for what? Your devotion to Hoshi has not diminished in any way, no matter how much closeness has developed between you and T'Pol."

"That's the problem, ma'am. How short is the step from looking at her to touching her? And why do we have this weird conversation? Trip and T'Pol are dying for crying out loud. We shouldn't be here debating whether you want to talk me into disregarding my marriage vows. We should be trying to save them. That's what I risked everything for to begin with!"

Malcolm was getting angry. He had long felt guilty for having more than friendly feelings for his best friend's Vulcan wife. But so far he could rely on the fact that the bond between T'Pol and Trip would be a safeguard. It was the door that kept the predator in the cage. What would protect T'Pol from his forbidden thoughts now? The bond was broken. The door was unlocked. And he felt as if the Eldest mother was trying to poke the beast so it would leap out of the cage.

"This talk is necessary," the matriarch decreed sternly. "You will soon understand that it is the last opportunity to have it. I do not urge you to disregard your vows. You never have done so and you never will. But know this young man. Your vows did not forbid you to uphold the same regard for T'Pol. You would willingly give your life for both, yet you promised only Hoshi to do so. Not the vows you have taken make you the man you are – your actions do.

"And as for your insinuation that we waste time instead of saving those that you cherish. I would not have started this conversation were I not convinced that it is needed in the process. All four of you have come to depend on the presence of each other. One part of that presence will be gone. Charles might survive, but he will not be the same as before. He will need all of you, not only T'Pol. I can reestablish their bond, but it too will not be the same as before."

"It sounds as if you try to talk me into bigamy," Malcolm spat in distaste. "You try to talk me into getting closer to my friend's wife while he fights for his life! That is disgusting!"

"I cannot make you understand yet, young one. And I do not condemn you for holding on to what you believe to be the absolute truth. The four of you have so far done well to find your path in life and I have every hope that you will continue to do so."

"Then why this weird talk, ma'am?" he pleaded. "I'm eternally grateful for what you have done. You undid the damage that the Section did to me. But why do you try to encourage me to continue what I already hate myself for."

"You hate yourself for caring more about T'Pol's well-being than can be expected of a friend?"

"But it's not that I do it – it's why I do it," he indicted himself, desperate that the Eldest played the forgiving part instead of just chewing him out for being a self-centric pig. His voice broke in utter disgust about his own feelings and not for the first time he hoped he could just reign them in like he used to be able to. "You are right! I will go to jail because I ... because I love T'Pol. Damn it all, I love her just as much as Hoshi. There was nothing else I could have done!"

"I do regret to have caused you all this pain, young one. But there was no other possible course of action. Instead of incriminating yourself, you have shown to be a most worthy man by being able to cherish both of them. What the future brings is yours to shape. But do remember – they will need you both and both you and Hoshi will be needed to bring strength to T'Pol and her mate for they embark on a most challenging journey. If you do this as friends, if you do this as a unique union of four individuals is a decision that only the 'First Quad' can take."