Coming Home

CHAPTER 5 + EPILOGUE

"There's every way of knowing. Look, I can guarantee you that we're not going to lose touch." ~Trip Tucker from These Are The Voyages

 FIVE  

Lee stared at him, his eyes wide. "What happened to laying low?"

Trip sighed. "It's a long story...one I haven't got time for. Needless to say, they've got my girl and I can't just sit here doing nothing. Please, Lee."

A smile slid across the Asian man's lips. "She must be quite a catch."

"She is," Trip replied with a grin.

"It's about time somebody took these bastards out. I'll meet you at your place and we can leave from there."

Trip shook his head. "I'm doing this alone. I can't risk anybody else on this. Besides, if I don't come alone they'll kill her."

"Are you out of your mind? They'll kill you the moment you set foot on that ship!"

"I know," Trip said. "And it's a risk I'm willing to take."

Lee's lips thinned and he turned his attention away from the monitor for a moment. "Here are three of the locations that have seen the most activity recently. This warehouse on the old San Francisco wharf...we believe that it may be their base of operations."

Trip nodded. "That's a start. Are there any schematics available on the layout?"

Again, Lee gazed away for a moment. His gaze then returned to meet Trip's. "We have a partial, but a lot of our information was lost in a recent system hack."

Trip's brows furrowed. "System hack? What were they looking for?"

Lee grinned wryly. "We traced the hack to the personnel files."

Trip's gaze narrowed in frustration. "Why in the hell wasn't I informed?"

"We thought we'd stopped them before they got that far so the Director insisted we keep it quiet."

"That's a piss poor excuse and he knows it," Trip muttered. Damn Starfleet bureaucrats. He sighed. "Thanks, Lee."

The Asian man nodded. "Be careful, Trip."

The screen of the communication device went black and he slid it into the hidden pocket of his jacket. He grunted in annoyance as his slight headache became a blinding migraine. He closed his eyes to block out the street lights, which were only serving to exacerbate the pain.

Suddenly, he found himself in an enclosed room with a very high ceiling and no windows. He took in his surroundings, focusing on the sky light most of all, through which the moon shone and provided the only source of light. He turned sharply at the sound of someone shouting at him, but everything went black before he could see who it was.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying flat on the cold sidewalk. He winced as the bump on his forehead throbbed. He paused, replaying the images in his mind. In the memories, he'd caught a glance at a pointed ear in the reflection in a nearby window, leading him to believe that T'Pol was somehow telling him where she was. Given that only one of the three locations Lee had indicated was a warehouse, it seemed he was on the right track.

He dragged himself to standing position and once the dizziness had faded, he took off at a sprint, following the map on the PADD toward the old San Francisco wharf.

***

He brought the binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the immediate area, then widening his search. The wharf certainly wasn't very heavily guarded considering that it was their main base of operations. He paused for a moment. If this wasn't the right location, he risked revealing himself and possibly ruining any chance of saving T'Pol. He grunted in irritation and tossed the binoculars aside. The differences between Vulcan and Romulan physiology were so acute that it would take much more advanced equipment than he had at his disposal to find her. He would have to follow his instincts.

The images from the brief connection with T'Pol led him to believe that she was being kept in the main building at the center of the pier. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flash bomb. He set the timer for fifteen seconds and lobbed it over his shoulder to the left. The object soared through the air into the darkness.

His heart raced as he waited for the distraction to take root. A few moments later, a bright flash appeared at the crest of the hill a half-kilometer to the south. As he had hoped, the nearest guard shouted for one of his fellows and the duo took off to investigate. Once they were out of sight, Trip skulked down the hill and toward the center building.

Using the buildings as cover, he slipped past several guards until he at last had front entrance of the main warehouse within his sights. More guards had moved to protect the entrance, no doubt as a result of his diversion. He grimaced. He'd told the bureaucrats from the start that he wasn't any good at the cloak and dagger routine. He was too trusting and too honest to be a spy.

His gaze went to the roof, recalling the skylight T'Pol had shown him through their bond. It looked like he'd be using it after all.

***

T'Pol blinked several times in rapid succession. The drug was once again beginning to wear off, though her mind was still slightly clouded. She closed her eyes and sought out the familiar blend of colors that indicated his mind was reaching out to hers.

She inhaled sharply when she caught a glimpse of several guards stationed outside a large building. Her eyes snapped open and she blinked to re-accustom them to the light. The moment she'd realized what he was attempting, she'd gently pulled away from his mind. She only hoped the moment's distraction hadn't led to his capture.

Reassured that Trip was in close proximity, she twisted and wriggled her wrists in an attempt to loosen the bonds. She'd made some progress over the last half hour, but the waves of dizziness and brief black outs had impeded her attempts.

***

At last, he reached the rear of the building and donned the anti-gravity boots. He pressed one boot to the wall and engaged the lock, then tugging to be sure that it was secured. He repeated the process within the other boot.

He took slow, cautious steps at first; but his pace increased to a steady strut as he become accustomed to the surface. Several long moments later, he swung his leg over the ledge and gripped it tightly with his hands, pulling himself up. He collapsed onto the roof, pausing for a moment to catch his breath.

He then made his way toward the skylight and peered down into the room. A sigh of relief slid unchecked past his lips when he saw T'Pol tied to a chair. She looked mostly alert, but her movements were slightly sluggish. This suggested that she had in fact been drugged. That explained why he'd been unable to establish a link with her through their bond as the van had sped away.

He pulled the long, black rope from the bag he carried and looked around for something solid to tie it to. At last, he found a reinforced pipeline secured to the roof. He twisted the rope about the pipe in a knot that would allow him to lower himself into the room. He gave it a few tugs to be sure that it was fastened tightly and made his way toward the skylight. He used a glass cutter from his bag to remove that obstacle and then attached the rope to the clip at his waist. He carefully climbed through the hole, keeping a firm hold on the rope to control his descent, and lowered himself slowly hand over hand to the ground. He stopped and glanced around occasionally when he thought he heard footsteps, but it proved to be his heightened adrenaline triggering his flight response.

His feet at last made contact with solid concrete and he released the rope from the clip. He rushed toward T'Pol to find her gaze slightly unfocused and her eyes fluttering as though she was about to black out. He gripped her chin and forced her to look directly at him. A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes.

"Trip?" she whispered softly.

He nodded. "Yeah, it's me. Come on. Let's get you out of here." His hands shook as he attempted to remove the ropes securing her to the chair.

"No!" she whispered. "Trip, you shouldn't have come. It's a-"

He grunted in pain as a pulse of energy struck him in the back and moments later, darkness enveloped his senses.

***

Slowly, he became aware of the throbbing ache in the back of his head and he grimaced in pain. Suddenly, he heard a female voice shouting in Romulan. He opened his eyes only to be blinded by a bright light. He snapped his eyes quickly shut as the throbbing intensified and opened them again gradually. It took a few moments before his eyes grew accustomed to the light. Silence had replaced the shouting.

Though she wasn't in his direct line of sight, Trip knew Eveiss was nearby. He could almost imagine the look on her face-like the cat that swallowed the canary. His overconfidence had gotten him caught. He'd been so convinced that he could rescue T'Pol. Harris was right. His cockiness and his pride would get him and those around him killed.

"I can't say this is unexpected," Eveiss drawled. "In fact, I would have been surprised if you hadn't at least tried." She chuckled. "So noble-and yet so foolish."

His lips tightened. "Where's T'Pol?" he barked.

"The Vulcan? She's alive...for now."

"Let her go," he insisted. "You've got me. Now let her go."

She paused. "No. I don't think I will."

"We had a deal," he growled.

"Yes," she agreed. "But you broke it when you attempted to free her yourself." She stepped into view wearing a wide grin. "Since you don't value your own life, I think I'd like to keep her around to ensure your cooperation."

His gaze narrowed. "What are you going to do with me? Take me back to Romulus?"

Her grin faded to be replaced by a scowl. "I cannot return home," she sneered. "Because I failed to capture you during our last meeting, I was forced to abandon my home. I intend for you to die slowly and painfully-but not before you watch your mate suffer the same fate."

Trip's heart raced at the thought of T'Pol being tortured and he imagined the satisfied grin on Eveiss's face as she did what she threatened, which only served to fuel his rage. He struggled violently against his bonds, desperate to get free to end her life before she could lay a hand on T'Pol. The force of his anger frightened him. He'd never wanted anything as badly as he wanted to wring Eveiss's neck, driven by pure instinct to protect T'Pol at all costs.

An amused smirk crossed the Romulan woman's lips and she turned to a man standing near the entrance to the room.

"Bring in the Vulcan," she ordered.

The man inclined his head and exited the room. Several moments later, the man re-entered the room, he and a colleague dragging T'Pol's inert form to the center of the space.

Panic instantly overwhelmed his fury and he intuitively reached out, seeking the color of her mind. A quiet sigh of relief passed his lips when he found it, faded though it was. She was still alive, but for the moment was unconscious.

"Revive her," Eveiss commanded.

The two men paused. "I don't believe that wise, ma'am," the younger of the two offered. "If we awaken her, we risk her escaping."

"Do it!" she hissed. "I want Tucker to see his mate die before his very eyes! I want him to watch the pain mar her features! I want him to feel her agony through their bond-the misery he has caused me."

The younger man hesitated for only a moment before nodding stiffly and pulling out two syringes filled with an unknown substance. Eveiss caught Trip's stare and leered gleefully at him.

"The first will awaken her. The second is Le'matya venon," she replied in answer to his unasked question. "Very poisonous. Administered in small doses, it can prolong the symptoms. The victim will die once enough of the venom has worked its way through their body."

He struggled even more violently against his bonds, feeling the prick of the needle they jabbed T'Pol with as though it was him they were injecting. Her eyes snapped open and a tidal force of alarm besieged him so strong that it encompassed his every thought. He was aware of nothing but the adrenaline rushing through his veins and the blood roaring in his ears, making him deaf to all sound except the hurried thump-thump of his heart pounding mercilessly against the wall of his chest. Then he felt it. Another dull puncture and his every nerve ending burned with the energy of a thousand suns. His cries of anguish joined T'Pol's and he could hardly think over the intensity of the torture. The initial burn faded and he gasped for breath.

His hands shook and he jerked violently as he sought escape from the torture. If he could force his thoughts away from it long enough, he might be able to formulate a plan to get free of his restraints and get T'Pol help. He gritted his teeth and took deep, steady breaths, focusing on the memory that made him the most content, as T'Pol had taught him following the discovery of their bond, then struggled to reach that serenity. He thought of the first time he'd kissed her and the desire rose again, overwhelming the pain. Slowly, the blaze faded to a warm glow. He heaved a sigh of relief. He grinned when he noted Eveiss's taut features. It had worked. Forcing his concerns for T'Pol aside, he again tugged at his bonds. In one swift motion, the ropes split and Eveiss's eyes widened when he stood and clasped his hands tightly around her throat.

"Give her the antidote," he snarled. "I know you have it. It's how you intended to prolong the torture. Give it to her now or I'll snap your neck!"

In the back of his mind even as she clawed at his hands, he recognized the impossibility of what he was doing. Romulans had the same extreme strength of their Vulcan cousins and yet he had Eveiss by the throat and, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't free herself. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two guards rushing toward him. He released Eveiss and charged at the two men, striking out with lightening speed. They could scarcely keep up with his swings. He knocked both men unconscious with an ease that astounded him. The whirl of an energy weapon charging caught his attention and he turned to find Eveiss pointing the weapon at T'Pol.

His feet acted quicker than his brain and he ran at her, throwing his body in the way of the blast. A searing pain shot through his body as the explosion caught him in the shoulder. He fought through the pain, turning the weapon on Eveiss. Their gazes met for only a moment before he pulled the trigger and satisfaction coursed through him as he watched the life drain from her eyes. Her body fell lifeless to the cold ground.

His hands shook as he searched her pockets for the glass bottle of antidote. At last, he found it and a syringe. He rushed to T'Pol's side and dropped to his knees, then poking the needle through the rubber cap and drawing fluid into the tube. He tapped the syringe a couple of times before pulling it from the bottle and searching for a major vein. After finding it, he jabbed the needle into her arm and injected the fluid. Slowly, her cries of pain faded to whimpers and he sighed in relief when her eyes opened and locked with his.

The buzz of an energy weapon echoed in the small room and he turned to find one of the men pointing it at him. Before he could react, the man was struck in the chest by a blast of fire. He sought out the origin of the shot and found several intelligence agents standing in the doorway. The group rushed forward to restrain the man and bound the other man's hands and feet.

As the medical team examined T'Pol, he strode toward where Eveiss's corpse lay. Despite the circumstances, a niggling feeling of sorrow twisted his stomach in knots. He wished there had been another way, but she had given him no choice. If he hadn't done what he had, T'Pol would most likely have paid for his hesitation with her life.

"You did what needed to be done," a voice whispered solemnly behind him.

He jumped at the sound of Harris's voice and grinned wryly."I told you I wasn't cut out for this," he muttered.

Harris smiled. "On the contrary. You did what very few of even our most decorated agents could have done: you didn't second guess yourself and for that your lady friend owes you her life." He glanced at Trip's injury. "You'd better get that shoulder looked at."

Without another word, Harris exited the room and left Trip staring after him.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

EPILOGUE

Trip grinned wryly as the nurse fixed the sling holding his left arm. It was the second time in seven years that his arm had been injured. The irony of it all was that it had been the same arm both times. Certainly his parents hadn't anticipated his ability to attract the worst kind of trouble when they'd nicknamed him Trip. He winced slightly as the nurse's adjustments jarred his injury. She offered a small smile of apology and was careful not to be so rough.

The moment she cleared him to leave, he was off the biobed and headed toward T'Pol's room. Though the quick administration of the antidote had slowed and even reversed the toxin's effects, the doctors had insisted that she stay to be observed overnight as a precaution. He chuckled as he recalled her tight-lipped response to that order. In the end, Phlox had been able to convince her that it was best if she remained and if her agreement was anything to go by, she trusted Phlox's judgment more than she would ever admit aloud.

He arrived outside the entrance to the sterile hospital room and stepped inside a moment later only for his eyes to be assaulted by dozens of bright blooms. Normally, the thought that she had so many admirers would have agitated him; however, he could sense her irritation and he just laughed. Her thoughts indicated that each prize had been delivered personally. She fixed him with a tolerant look, which only made him laugh more.

"Well, you're certainly a hot commodity," he teased.

She arched an emotionless eyebrow. "If I recall, you have seen more amorous attention than I during our years of acquaintance."

He stared at her, unsure how to respond. The jest had come out of nowhere and had knocked him for a loop. The worst of it was that he should have seen it coming. Despite their intimate connection, she could still surprise him. He grinned. It was so like her, too, to disguise it in her dry language.

"If these are anything to go by," he added with an exaggerated sweep of his hand. "you've got the whole of Starfleet trying to woo you."

She didn't respond to the obvious bait and turned her attention from him. It was her way of closing the subject. He sighed in resignation and slid into the chair beside her bed. "So...how're you feeling?"

"Quite well," she responded, her gaze once again locking with his. "I am certain that my forced continued habitation here was not at all necessary. Vulcans are not nearly as delicate as Humans."

He gaped at her. "T'Pol...you were poisoned."

She nodded. "And you administered the antidote most promptly. My immune system enhanced the effects of the antidote and, due to the diminutive size of the dose I was exposed to, quickly healed any remaining damage and the toxin was broken down in my blood stream."
 It was no wonder that Vulcans were so much stronger than Humans with such hearty immune systems-no diseases to weaken their body's function.

"So what happens now?" he asked, his voice a whisper.

Both of her brows arched to her hairline. "I presume you mean now that Eveiss is dead?"

He nodded. "I'll still have a price on my head with everything I know. They won't ever stop hunting me."

"We would be unable to remain here," she concluded. "At least until the Romulan threat has been eliminated."

A pang of sorrow struck him square in the stomach at the thought of going on the run again. He'd hoped that with enough time he'd be able to see his parents again and tell them what had really happened. It had broken his heart to watch his mother weeping openly at his funeral. She'd had to bury two of her children-a pain that he could sympathize with. No parent should ever have to bury one of their children, much less two. Suddenly, it struck him that she'd said 'we'. His heart raced and he didn't dare hope that she meant what he thought she meant.

"We?" he whispered, his eyes wide.

Her lips tugged up slightly in the corners, no doubt the closest she would ever come to a smile. "You are my ashayam. To be parted from you again would be more unpleasant than an ever-lasting Pon-Farr."

"But where would we go?" he queried. "There's nowhere on Earth that we'd be safe."

"We will return to my mother's home on Vulcan," she responded with ease. "My commission will have expired by this time and it is my choice whether to have it extended. Certainly it will not arouse suspicion that I wish to return home and start a family."

He flashed her one of his breath-taking hundred-watt smiles. "That works well with what I had in mind." He reached a hand into his pocket and pulled out a simple diamond ring, then dropped to one knee. T'Pol's eyebrows arched at the very clear indications of Trip's impending query. "T'Pol, will you do me the great honor of becoming my wife?"

Her response was instant and so Human-like, she wondered if Trip's own desires hadn't prompted the fall of her emotional barriers. "Yes," she replied. Before he could react, her lips were on his in a heated kiss. He chuckled and pulled away, sliding the ring onto that certain finger.

"I know technically we are married," he added quickly, sensing the impending discussion. "I just wanted to make it official. Where I come from, you're not married until the preacher declares you man and wife."

She nodded. "I understand. However, you are supposed to be deceased. Will this not cause difficulties with a ceremony?"

"I'd thought about that, too," he countered. "Phlox did a helluva job on that Romulan face of mine. I don't imagine it would be too difficult for him to work out a Vulcan one. Then we could get married on Vulcan."

He felt her amusement through the bond. "You will need much instruction in Vulcan ways and language if you are to pass for a native."

"I'm willing to learn," he added with a wink. "Besides, if the last year is any indication, I'm a quick study."

She glanced out the window overlooking the Starfleet grounds. "Perhaps one day we can return."

He cupped her chin gently and their gazes locked, a grin sliding across his lips. "I don't give a damn where we live, darlin'. You'll be my home no matter where we go."

He pressed his lips to hers in a passionate kiss and lost himself in the desire she stirred within him. At last, they were together and nothing would ever separate them again.