Chapter 36: Hoshi's Dark Secret

He could barely believe that such sounds were coming out of such a small body. Hoshi was snoring so loudly, it would have scared away wild-life, if there were any, but since they were back on the ship, she could at worst scare passersby. He was sure that those with better hearing could probably hear from the corridor outside that the ship's coms officer was sawing through a veritable imaginary forest.

One of the things that T'Pol had informed him of during their rather animated wedding night was that on Wednesdays he would be relieved of all marital or parental duties in order to spend the evening and the night with his sister. Granted, his wife's order not to forget to ogle Hoshi's inevitably naked body appreciatively would go down as the weirdest wife's order ever, but then that was what he would have done anyway. The young woman in his arms liked the attention way too much to deprive her of that joy any longer. Today, apparently also with T'Pol's blessing, Hoshi had gotten herself hopelessly wasted on top of it.

Just like on that fateful evening she had been absolutely hilarious. Who would have thought that she knew so many rather rude jokes that were not meant for an under-age audience? He looked over at the bed-side cabinet and saw the hypospray with which he was supposed to jump start Hoshi in the morning. T'Pol being T'Pol had organized all of it, and she had thought of everything. Not only was there a document that registered Hoshi's bender as an official experiment to make it sort of legal, she had also procured the necessary medication to help Hoshi with the foreseeable after-effects the next morning.

As Malcolm had so fittingly said, he couldn't have done any better for a wife. For a start, many human wives wouldn't have believed that he was sharing a bed with a naked sister, who wasn't really a sister from a biological point of view, and not do something naughty. But then, no human wife would know his feelings from first-hand experience like T'Pol did after the mind-meld.

Even two weeks after it had happened, he couldn't believe how expertly T'Pol and his mother had pulled off that surprise wedding, even having Shran deliver her dad from Vulcan and back to his home world after the ceremony. His life would have been perfect if it wasn't for the fact that poor Pat would now be paying the price. She had been so happy knowing that he was taking care of Anna's occasional need for a man. They would now have to go back to the old status-quo of Anna hooking up with one of the many interested guys, hoping he wouldn't be useless between the sheets, while Pat would feel miserable.

He made a mental note to speak with T'Pol about that. For all intents and purposes their mating bond was nothing like it was described in the old texts. Anna only needed a man three or four times a year, maybe their bond could tolerate that? The very fact that he was holding Hoshi, while she was completely naked and resting her head on his chest, should have set off some very nasty instincts in T'Pol, but it didn't, instead his frankly modest talent to use their telepathic connection told him that his wife was quite content at the moment, and that, although she would never admit as much, meant that T'Lara had probably decided to crawl into mommies bed again. It would need some of Malcolm's more questionable methods to make T'Pol admit it, but she liked it a lot when their little daughter snuggled up to her or gave her a kiss. It was a sentiment he could easily sympathize with.

It still pained him that they technically had had to violate the young girl's mind to make her forget about what had been done to her, but she had the talent to make him forget about it the moment he saw her. Everyone aboard loved the little girl with a penchant for roaming the corridors in bright pink clothes and equally colored bunny-slippers. Since he and T'Pol had to get her out of the room once in a while for some action she was too young to witness, the fact that there would be eighty-five willing baby-sitters was a big help, but realistically, with Pat and Hoshi fiercely competing over the privilege, there was no need to worry about that and the little one loved both of them.

"How is your sister?" T'Pol asked when he had kissed her after returning to their quarters.

"A little worse for wear," he chuckled. "She stuck to Rostov's vodka so there's no upset stomach and the hypo dealt with the headache. As much fun as she was, but I think we should keep it to that one time."

"It was not meant to become a recurring feature," T'Pol agreed while selecting clothes for T'Lara, who was having a lot of fun in the shower if the incessant giggling was anything to go by.

"Well, her surgery is coming up anyway on the weekend. Phlox delayed it twice. I doubt Hoshi would be too happy about a third postponement."

"Phlox overestimated the growth rate of human adipose tissue. Surely your sister would prefer an adequate result over an expedited procedure?"

"I know," he agreed. "But Hoshi's been having these problems for years and Phlox wasn't exactly helping. He gave her something to induce skin growth for when her breasts will become bigger, but now they are sagging really badly because of that. She's absolutely livid at herself. I did my best to make her feel better, but she'll burst a blood vessel anytime soon."

"Perhaps it would help if you spent the remaining two evenings with her until her procedure?"

He shook his head. "Hoshi's a grown up girl. Perhaps the night from Friday to Saturday, because she's a bit scared, no matter how much she looks forward to the result. Tonight though I wanna be with my wife. I want to test if a mind-meld really solves our ... um ... intimate problems. I don't really like it that I have to tie you to something when I want to make love to you."

"It worked during our wedding night, ashayam, but I agree, the experiment could use ... several repeated tests," she said in a husky voice and kissed him. Their intimate moment was interrupted by T'Lara who came running out of the bathroom and jumped into his arms, stark-naked, but thankfully she had at least toweled herself dry.

"I missed you father," she said and kissed him.

"I missed you too, honey. And now get yourself dressed. I don't want to have to explain to the captain how someone can get a cold inside the ship."

She giggled and quickly donned the clothes that T'Pol had laid out for her.

It was so infuriating not to be able to do something. If the engines had suffered a hiccup he could at least be doing something, but right now, all he could do was pacing sickbay while Phlox and Cutler where hectically fighting for Hoshi's life behind the privacy screen. Hoshi's body was not something he could fix with a micro-spanner and a hammer.

For all he knew, it had all happened behind the privacy screen, the procedure had been successful, but Hoshi should have come to a long time ago. Instead she was still unconscious and her heart rate was not exactly improving. His pacing was interrupted when T'Lara barged in, crying.

"What happened to aunt Hoshi?" she asked.

"I don't know," Trip said, trying to put a brave face to it and he put his finger over her lips to tell her to be as silent as possible. He gathered her up in his arms and she clung to him like a baby monkey, silently crying.

Finally Phlox came out from behind the privacy screen. He'd never seen the Denobulan sweat so profoundly.

"She'll be fine," the doctor sighed and sunk into a chair. The look of Phlox at T'Lara told him that the doctor wanted to discuss something that was not meant to be heard by the child.

"T'Lara, she's okay now," he said, barely holding on to his composure. "Would you go to stay with aunt Pat for a while? Doctor Phlox and I need to talk about something."

She nodded and walked over to the doctor, planting a kiss on the surprised Denobulan. "Thank you for saving aunt Hoshi," she said and walked out. He could see that Phlox was very moved by the gesture.

"Commander, this is not easy to say," Phlox struggled. "I believe the problem was caused by substance abuse."

"You mean to say Hoshi is doing drugs?" he asked in disbelief and the doctor nodded.

"What is she taking?" he asked as a rather big lump formed in his throat. He felt like all the air had been taken from the room.

"According to my scans, Diamorphines, known on your world as heroin. Heroin use has become so rare, it didn't even enter my mind to scan for it beforehand."

"Shit, this is going to end her career," he said.

"Not necessarily," the doctor answered. "The drug has been known for two-hundred years. In former times people had to undergo a procedure called 'cold turkey', which was the sudden cessation of substance dependence, accompanied by heavy withdrawal symptoms. Thankfully, in this day and age there are less stressful measures of therapy."