Mistakes

Chapter 15 - Part I

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the star trek characters or anything.

Summary: AU.  What if Hoshi had a hand in what happened with Terra Prime?  How would it affect her and her relationships with people on the ship?

Spoilers: Terra Prime, Marauders, Affliction, Divergence

A/N: Thank you so much to my beta, Dinah.  Also let it be known that this will be the last chapter with time stamps as the story will be linier from here on out and if you haven't seen Terra Prime or Demons in a while you might feel a little lost.  Also, I'm sorry about the insane amount of time it took me to get this up. I should be much quicker with the last four chapters.  And, because this chapter is so long it will be split into 2 chapters like Chapter 14.  Thank you all for reading!

Starfleet Headquarters, San Francisco- December 23, 2154 (BTP)

As far as orators went Nathan Samuels really wasn't bad.  Of course Hoshi, like many other members of the crew, was a bit disappointed that he had failed to mention the Enterprise's contribution to the formation of the Coalition of Planets even once, but no one was perfect. Especially politicians. After the speech, she had left Archer and T'Pol with the Minister.  Language was her life, but schmoozing wasn't really her thing. 

Hoshi scanned the room and picked Travis out of the crowd.  She started to walk over to him but stopped when she saw him talking to a pretty redhead.  Hoshi smiled.  Their body language had "old flame" written all over.  She looked around the room again. Maybe Malcolm was as bored as she was, although, he would never say so.  In her futile search for Malcolm, Hoshi's gaze stopped on an older looking blond woman.  She was vaguely familiar, but Hoshi couldn't quite place the woman.  Hoshi looked at her a moment longer, then all of the air left her lungs as the woman's face turn towards her. 

It was Susan. 

It was Susan and she was heading straight for T'Pol and the Captain.  Why was she here?   What if she had changed her mind about the entire thing?  What if she was here to tell them everything they had done?  Everything Hoshi had done?  As badly as Hoshi wanted to run up to her, to stop her, Hoshi's feet moved her backward.  Back, back, back, until she was pushed up against the wall.  Her fingers gripped her elbows so tight that her knuckles were slowly turning white.  Hoshi watched as Susan got closer and closer to them then finally reached T'Pol.  She grasped T'Pol's hand and said something, but Hoshi was too far away to hear it.  She didn't think it would have made any difference if they had been standing right in front of her; all Hoshi heard was the pounding of her own heart.  She closed her eyes as hard as she could, waiting. 

"She's going into shock. Get me a med kit!" Phlox's voice rang out across the room. 

Hoshi opened her eyes in confusion. She saw Susan lying on the ground.  What had happened?  Neither the Captain nor T'Pol looked in her direction.  If Susan had told them anything about her, they didn't seem very concerned about it.  Hoshi watched as Malcolm darted across the room to where the med-kit was stored and brought it back to the doctor. 

Phlox shook his head.  "She's dead. I'm afraid there wouldn't have been anything I could have done regaurdless." 

Malcolm nodded and set the med-kit gently onto the floor.  He and the Captain talked quietly amongst themselves for a moment, probably trying to figure out how to handle the situation.  Malcolm nodded his head then turned towards the now gawking crowd.  "All right," he called across the room, "I'm going to need everyone to move to Conference Room B and stay there until a member of Starfleet Security has a chance to talk to you."  The silence broke into a soft murmur as they shuffled out of the room.  Hoshi still hadn't moved from where she had been standing and Malcolm caught her gaze as he put away the med-kit.  He frowned then walked over to where she was.  "Are you all right?" 

Hoshi nodded her head, but wasn't quite looking at him. 

"Hoshi..."  Malcolm put his hands on her shoulders.  Hoshi's gaze focused and she looked him in the eye, nodding again.  "Are you sure?  You don't really look well at all." 

Hoshi swallowed, trying to get rid of the thick lump in her throat.  "I guess... I just wasn't expecting to see that here."  Malcolm's eyebrows knitted together more closely, but he nodded like he believed her.  "I just wasn't expecting it." 

"You should sit down." 

Hoshi took a deep breath, mentally shaking herself awake.  "No, Malcolm, I'm fine."  He didn't look convinced.  "I promise," she smiled.  "I'll start talking to the guests - see if anyone saw anything, okay?" 

Malcolm looked unsure for a moment then nodded, "Alright, I should be in there in a moment."

Present - On Enterprise May 30, 2155 (ATP)

Trip signed his name on the PADD then set it on top of the tall stack sitting next to him.  He took a deep breath, then let it out. 

Finally. 

He had no idea moving a colony would have so much paper work attached to it.  It was a good thing that the commute between the two planets was as far as it was, or he wasn't sure that he would have been able to get it all done before they got there.  Trip smiled.  Getting to the new colony was synonymous to him with marrying T'Pol.  They were getting so close; they were only about five days away now. 

T'Pol had arranged for a Vulcan priest to meet them there.  Every time Trip saw Malcolm he got knowing looks from the man.  Trip was glad that Malcolm was so on board with this.  It wouldn't have affected his decision at all, but it was nice to have his friend behind him.  Trip had been considering who he would make his best man.  Jon and Trip had been friends the longest, but Malcolm was really the person Trip went to anymore if he had a problem or needed a second opinion.  Both men were important to him so it had been a hard decision.  He had been somewhat relieved when T'Pol told him there was no Vulcan equivalent to a best man.  She insisted that if he wanted to incorporate the tradition into their ceremony, he should, but Trip thought it would be easier just not to worry about it. 

Trip turned off his computer and walked out of his office.  He waved goodnight as he passed the night crew, then walked down the corridors to T'Pol's quarters.  They tried to be discreet about the two of them staying in her quarters, but Trip really wasn't sure how successful they had been since he hardly ever went to his quarters for anything anymore.  It had become a running joke in engineering that he was actually homeless and just lived in his office since he was never in his quarters, but Trip had no doubts that his people in engineering had a pretty good idea of where he was most nights.  He didn't really mind.  He trusted them all and knew they were discreet.  Engineering had access to all sorts of personal things.  Discretion came with the job.

When he walked in, he wasn't surprised to find that T'Pol was already asleep. It was almost 0100 and since they had started living together, he rarely came in this late. He smiled.  She had started sleeping on her side even when he wasn't there.  It was like she was waiting for him to come lay down next to her in the spot she saved him in her arms. 

Trip sat down heavily on the bed and pulled off his boots.  Today had been a long day; but still he couldn't believe how tired he was.  He pulled off his jumpsuit and climbed into bed with just his blues on.  As he moved under the sheets he noticed that T'Pol's thoughts seemed quieter tonight than usual.   He put his arm around T'Pol, loving the feel of her skin against his and the way his arm seemed to fit perfectly across her.  He let his eyelids droop closed and felt himself fall deeper and deeper into the black of sleep. 

Don't go to sleep. 

It was a whispering thought in the back of his mind, but he was so tired he ignored it. 

Don't go to sleep.  This time it was louder.  Trip suddenly realized that something was wrong.  It was T'Pol calling to him.  He tried to push himself back up to the surface of consciousness but felt himself being pulled down, down, down into the depths of sleep... or was that something else? 

WAKE UP! 

No matter how hard he fought he didn't have the energy to pull himself out of the deep darkness he was swimming in.  He fell deeper and deeper until the black turned into nothingness.

December 24, 2154 (BTP)

Malcolm was looking through the interviews of the people at the conference for a third time, but he knew it was useless.  No one in that crowd had ever met the woman let alone seen what happened.  The woman was a ghost.  The only person who had seen anything of any relevance was the doorman.  He said he had let her in only a few minutes before the incident and the only thing that stood out to him was that she seemed ill.  Malcolm rubbed his hands across his face and threw the PADD into the bottom drawer of his desk.  Right now all they had was the hair, and that happened to be the most confusing part of this whole thing.  How could it be Trip and T'Pol's child?  Malcolm was pretty sure he would have noticed if Commander T'Pol had ever become pregnant. Malcolm's comm. beeped. 

"Reed," he answered tiredly.

"It's Captain Archer.  I want you to talk to an old friend."

"Sir?"

"I want you to contact to Harris.  See if he knows anything about this woman."

Malcolm was silent for a moment.

"Lieutenant?"

"With all due respect, sir, I can't do that."

"Why not?  You've had no trouble contacting him in the past."

Malcolm flinched, "Please, sir, just trust me.  It would be a bad idea to contact him for any reason.  I have a couple other people I could talk to.  Maybe they'll know something."

"All right.  Tell me as soon as you know."

"I will.  If that's all, sir?"

"Goodnight, Mr. Reed."

Malcolm cut the channel.  He couldn't believe what the Captain had just asked him to do.  After everything that had happened, Archer just wanted him to go ask Harris for a favor?  He had almost been court-martialed for talking to the man, but when it fit the Captain's interests...  Malcolm shook his head.  It wasn't really his fault, Archer just didn't understand. Malcolm thought for a moment, going over people he knew who might have some information. He quickly picked someone from his mental list and smiled.  Marshall would know what was going on, and as an added bonus he was one of the few people from his old life who didn't want to kill him.

***

"Her name is Susan Khouri," Malcolm said, handing the Captain a PADD.  "She worked at San Francisco Hospital until a month after the Xindi attack.  She doesn't have any family or close friends to speak of, but six weeks after she quit her job it is believed that she joined the underground isolationist movement, Terra Prime."

"The people who attacked Phlox in the bar about a year ago?" 

"No, those were just some drunks, but there was a lot going on with Terra Prime during that time.  It was their highest recruitment since the days after the attack on Earth.  Guess who one of their most prominent recruiters was?"

"Susan Khouri?"

Malcolm nodded his head.  "She'd been recruiting people in San Francisco for months.  Paxton was impressed, so he moved her up the ranks.  Eventually she became a prominent person in Paxton's inner circle."

"Okay, so do we know anything about the child?"

"Ms. Khouri's autopsy reports came back.  She had elevated levels of growth hormone in her blood along with traces of myofibrilin."

"That's what they used to prescribe for extended zero-G missions, right?  So what does that tell us? It's not really used anymore outside of military exercises."

"Not since the invention of artificial gravity, but it is still given to workers in remote places where artificial gravity isn't practical.  My contact told me that the Orpheus mining colony has always been a prominent base for Terra Prime.  He also told me that there has been much more traffic going through there lately."

"So that's probably where she came from?"

"It seems likely.  But more importantly, it seems this is where we could find this child.  If it truly is the child of Commanders Tucker T'Pol, I doubt that a xenophobic terrorist group is an appropriate place for it."

"All right.  It seems like our best bet at the moment.  We'll set a course.  Thank you, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."  Malcolm got up from the conference table and turned towards the door.

"And Malcolm..."

"Yes, sir."

"I want to apologize for last night.  Despite everything that's happened, I do trust you.  You wouldn't be on this ship if that wasn't the case.  If you say you can't contact Harris, I believe that you have a legitimate reason."

"Thank you, sir."  Malcolm nodded crisply again, then turned and left the room.

Present - On Enterprise May 30, 2155 (ATP)

Jones flicked the internal lights on his station board on and off. 

On-Off.

On-Off.

He hated night shift duty, but it seemed like ever since they had started this project with the colonists, everyone's schedules had been off. 

On-Off.

 On-Off.

He sighed and looked at the chronometer.  Only five more hours and 17 minutes until the end of his shift.  Six minutes less than when he had last checked. 

On-Off.

On-Off. 

His comm. panel beeped... finally something.  He didn't care if it was a leaky shower; he would go fix it himself if it would get him off the almost-empty bridge. "This is Jones.  Go ahead."

"This is engineering.  We're getting some irregular readings from Commander T'Pol's quarters.  Our sensors are telling us that the O2 recyclers in that unit aren't working, but none of our alarms have gone off.  Our sensors have been finicky all week so I was just wondering if you could confirm our readings." 

Jones pulled up the screen for that room.  He was slightly alarmed to see that his sensors read the same thing.  "I'm getting the same readings.  You said no alarms went off, nothing?" 

"Nothing.  Check for life signs." 

He pulled up the program for S.W.L. S.*, and found two life signs in Commander T'Pol's quarters.  "There are people in there, Engineering.  Can you get the doors for that room open through the computers?" 

There was a pause on the other line.  "Dammit, no.  We've been locked out.  This isn't just a malfunction.  This was intentional." 

Jones found himself wondering why he had been hoping for something interesting to happen just a moment ago.  "All right, I need you to get a team down there.  Open those doors as fast as you can without hurting the people inside." 

"All right.  Engineering out." 

As soon as the channel was cut, Jones opened one to the Captain. 

"Archer."

"Sir, we have a problem."

December 27, 2154 (BTP)

"My name is John Frederick Paxton. I've just taken over the verteron array on Mars. I can now fire on any ship or facility in the system..."

 Hoshi stared at the man who had caused all of this.  There was nothing outstanding about him.  He looked like an ordinary man, talked like an ordinary man.  Hoshi wondered how he could have so much control over so many people.  How was I pulled into this? Fear.  All it took was convincing people that he could protect them from whatever they feared.  After all, isn't that why she had joined in the first place?  She had been completely paralyzed by fear.  Fear that the Xindi would come back, fear that someone else would try to destroy their home, fear that someone else would... hurt me.  Hurt me like I'm hurting people now.

"...Terra Prime forever." 

"Block that transmission," Archer shouted.

Hoshi's fingers flew over her controls, going through every block out sequence there was, but to no avail.  "He's on every frequency. The signal's going system-wide."

The Captain turned to Malcolm.  "Target his ship," he demanded.  "Take out their communications."

"He's tied his warp reactor into the array.  If we hit him, it'll take out half of Utopia colony."

Archer turned back to Hoshi; they were now running out of options.  "Open a channel to Starfleet."

"Everything's jammed," Hoshi said frantically while trying to boost the ship's signal.  All they needed was a stronger signal than Paxton's and they could get through. 

"The citizen soldiers of Terra Prime will act to protect you against the most dangerous enemy that humanity has ever faced." 

Hoshi glanced at the screen and stopped what she was doing.  For the first time, Hoshi saw the evidence of her crime.  The image of a sweet-faced baby filled the screen.  She had the blue eyes of her Human father and the pointed ears of her Vulcan mother.  Hoshi felt she was somehow connected to the child - like her role in creating her had formed a bond between them. Hoshi bit down on her lip.  She was one of the few who knew the child's fate; who knew that the sweet-faced, innocent baby on the screen would die. 

And it was her fault.

TBC