Enterprise: The Measure of a Man

Chapter 11

**Fan fiction only. Not for sale or profit. No copyright infringement intended.**


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The feast carried on well into the evening. Four succulent courses of vegetables and breads were followed by sweets and a strong berry-flavored wine, which Hoshi and T’Pol only pretended to drink. Entertainment was supplied by two young women with flute-like instruments.

“They certainly know how to throw a party,” Hoshi whispered to T’Pol as soon as she was sure no one’s attention was focused on them. “Good food, music…it’s hard to square this with what we saw at the quarry.”

“Surely you are familiar enough with Terran history not to be surprised,” T’Pol murmured back.

Suddenly they realized that the room had grown quiet. Venda was looking down at them from the head of the long table.

“Perhaps we have shown our guests enough hospitality for their first night in our city. It is no secret that our revels can seem a bit overpowering to those not accustomed to them.”

She looked pointedly at the two of them, as if expecting an answer.

“We are most grateful for the kindness you have shown us,” T’Pol spoke quickly. “However, your observation is correct. We are still somewhat fatigued from our journey. Perhaps it would be best if we retired soon.”

“Certainly, though it is a shame you must leave us so soon. I had a full evening’s worth of pursuits planned for you. I suppose it will have to wait until tomorrow, though.”

“We do apologize, but thank you for your understanding.”

Venda clapped her hands twice. “Ladies, we must bid our guests a pleasant slumber. Let us look forward to equally stimulating conversation tomorrow.”

Together, the women bowed their heads and murmured some formulaic address. Unsure how to respond, T’Pol and Hoshi somewhat awkwardly mimicked the bow.

With the formalities out of the way, Venda paused, finished her cup of wine, and offered them a knowing smile. “Of course, we realize that you have come to our city to partake in the unique pleasures the civilized world can offer. Therefore…shall I find you some companionship for the night?”

“That will not be—” T’Pol began, but Hoshi squeezed her wrist.

“Yes—actually, we would appreciate that. You understand, though—we’ve come a very long way. We had hoped to spend every night here working toward our goal.”

“Of course I understand.” Venda nodded sympathetically. “You wish to bear strong daughters, just as we do. In fact, I think I have the perfect thing. Two young bucks, newly acquired. Headstrong, but satisfying. I can personally attest to that. And, at least so far as appearances suggest, genetically compatible.”

Hoshi and T’Pol exchanged a meaningful glance. “They sound perfect,” Hoshi said. “Thank you.”

Venda settled back in her chair, pleased, and motioned for one of the younger women to come forward. When one of them did, she whispered something neither Hoshi nor T’Pol could hear.

Suddenly, a commotion erupted at Venda’s end of the table. The one she had earlier referred to as Lysara was on her feet, red-faced and obviously near tears.

“Please, Venda, I won’t have it!” she cried out in a shaky voice. “You gave him to me! You may do as you please with your own, but never agreed to share mine, with a guest or anyone else!” As if she had suddenly realized that everyone else in the room was staring at her, she looked over at T’Pol and Hoshi with a mortified expression. “I beg your pardon, of course. I meant you no dishonor.”

They were too surprised to do more than stare. Rather than appearing vexed, however, Venda merely rolled her eyes.

“Lysara, I might have warned you about becoming too attached to those things which are of necessity temporary in this life.” She sighed with obvious amusement. “Nonetheless, you are correct—I made you a gift without restrictions or conditions. It would be wrong of me, therefore, to bend your will to mine. My hope, however, is that you might follow my example.”

Lysara’s face was a perfect picture of misery. For a long, painful moment, she seemed to be struggling to accept Venda’s orders. In the end, however, her tears only began to flow faster.

“It breaks my heart to disappoint you, Mistress,” she whispered. “But I must. I beg to be excused now.”

“Very well.” The rest of the assembly waited, eyes downcast with embarrassment, while Lysara rushed from the room. After a brief but tense silence, Venda addressed T’Pol and Hoshi again. “It would appear that we must make alternative arrangements. I hope you will forgive Lysara’s outburst. As you know, youth sometimes trumps judgment.”

“Perhaps we could make do with just one…ah, specimen,” Hoshi said quickly. “In our village, resources are limited. We’re…we’re used to sharing.”

“I can see how that might be a practical solution in some cases. Alas, the only other male I can offer is one I have selected for myself. And I cannot afford to wear him out by having him serve three mistresses at once.”

“We understand,” T’Pol said, her voice tight with self-consciousness.

“In the morning, assuming that Lysara remains stubborn, I will have Sejenus go to a neighboring estate and find some others for you.”

“Please don’t trouble yourself any further. We are quite tired in any event.”

“Then I wish you a peaceful night, if not a particularly memorable one.” Venda and the entire group of women rose to their feet, and one of the serving-girls motioned for T’Pol and Hoshi to follow her. They did, passing along one long, exquisitely polished corridor, and then another, through curtained doorways and past glorious statues and tapestries celebrating the female form. At last, they were left alone in a simple but comfortable room with two futon-style beds and tasteful oil lamps affixed to the bare wall.

“We were so close!” Hoshi said, cursing to herself as they crawled under the blankets. “Two of them might have come walking right in here on their own!”

“We have no way of knowing that for certain,” T’Pol admonished her. “Accepting their offer was risky, Ensign. It might have led to a decidedly awkward situation.”

“I don’t see how. Either we’d have found them, or we could have questioned whoever they sent. I have a feeling they’re nearby. They had to be the new additions to the household they were talking about.”

“I agree that her words could be interpreted that way,” T’Pol admitted. “The Sector Security Council members would also agree with you. Keep in mind, however, that we are dealing with a diplomatically sensitive situation. Trafficking in sentient beings may be offensive to our sensibilities, but it is an imbedded facet of their culture. It is not our place to judge or interfere.”

“I wonder if you’ll still feel that way if we find that any of them have been harmed.”

“We have no evidence that that is the case.” The lantern cast a long shadow down the side of T’Pol’s face as her jaw tightened. “Nevertheless, your point that we should take a more active approach to locating them is well-taken. I propose that we wait a few hours and then begin our search. While we do so, we will plot our best escape route. The entire rescue operation should be as discreet as possible.”

“Normally I’m all for diplomacy…but even assuming we find them, how can we just walk away? T’Pol, we need to do something to help the rest of those captives . You know it as well as I do!”

“Ensign, it is not our place to extend the boundaries of our mission, which is to recover three missing officers. If in fact Starfleet allies are being held here against their will, we may well be justified in taking further action. But any such orders will have to come from the Captain once we have secured his release.”

“All right. It’s going to be hard to wait, though.” Rolling onto her back, Hoshi rested her arm against her forehead and stared at the ceiling. “Imagine it, though…they just send out for an overnight companion, and a suitable one is delivered right to their beds. I can almost see how it might catch on. Maybe we ought to play along and find out more about how this system works. Cultural research and all that.”

“Ensign!”

“Kidding, T’Pol. Kidding.”


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Archer and Trip sat up in the straw, instinctively clutching their blankets around their waists, as two people entered their quarters. One of them was the pale-skinned servant boy Sejenus usually entrusted with their meals, and the other was Lysara. She seemed agitated, disheveled.

“Looks like you’ve got company,” Archer murmured to Trip as she swept toward him and pointed.

“Take him to my room immediately,” she ordered the servant. Nodding, he stepped forward and, without expression, pulled the blanket from around Trip’s waist and threw it into the straw. When he reached for Trip’s arm, Trip pulled away in annoyance.

“You don’t have to grab me. I can walk by myself.”

“Come with me, then,” Lysara said. Turning, she strode back out without waiting for him to catch up.

“Remember what we talked about, Trip,” Archer said as Trip turned to follow her.

“You know I will,” he said.

They strode through the dark yard, Trip trailing a few yards behind Lysara and the serving boy close behind him. Finally, they entered the villa through a side door. A brief journey up a dimly lit corridor brought them to their destination. The servant boy turned away and returned to the yard.

Trip realized it was the same room he had visited before. Then, it had been decked out for seduction, with incense, candles, and Lysara as the central temptation. This time, there was nothing besides the woman herself.

Breathing hard, she tore away her garments and pressed herself against him. Trip stood, motionless, as her moist flesh melted into his and her hot lips slid over his neck.

“No more waiting,” she whispered. “You belong to me. You will serve me tonight.”

“If that’s what you want,” he said, wincing a little as her nails raked his bare back.

“Yes. Yes, it’s what I want. Now. Now, Trip, now.”

“Okay.” Taking her face in his hands, he kissed her with such force that he felt her pulse quicken. Sliding one arm around her waist, he dragged her to the bed and pushed her down into the pillows. Lysara closed her eyes and lay underneath him, her entire body rigid with anxiety. She didn’t protest as he rolled her onto her stomach and ran his hand down the sleek curve of her spine. Her flesh trembled in the wake of his fingers.

“It’ll go easier this way,” he said, smoothing her hair down from her forehead so that it hung in her face. “Trust me.”

“I do,” she said in a shaking voice. Then she gasped as he grabbed both her hands in one of his and pulled them tight against the small of her back.

“Don’t fight me—please. You know I won’t hurt you unless you make me.”

Trip didn’t wait to find out if she dared to scream for help. Quickly he snatched up her discarded wrap from the floor and stuffed part of it into her mouth. Cursing T’Pol for not even trying to teach him that handy nerve pinch maneuver, he tore a few strips off the garment and used them to bind her wrists and ankles, then firmed up the gag so that she couldn’t spit it out. Tilting her face up, he pushed the hair back out of her eyes and wiped away her tears with his fingers.

“You’ll be uncomfortable for a while, but you’ll be okay. Just breathe through your nose until someone finds you. You understand?”

She nodded, the muscles in her throat flexing as she choked back sobs.

“Good. I’ve got to go now. I’m sorry it had to be like this.”

Before he left, he pulled one of the blankets over her up to her shoulders. Another he tied around his waist like a toga.

He took one of the candlesticks with him to use as a weapon, if it came to that.