Caught in the Act

See Prologue for disclaimers, etc.

Title: Caught in the Act
Author: Ginny Powell


Act I - Trip
Scene 1

“I’ve never seen her species before,” Dr. Phlox was saying
as he bustled around the newcomer. In the bright lights of
Sickbay, she had proved to be blue from the tips of her
bare feet to the top of her bare head. She appeared to be
hairlegh tgh tgh the Doctor hadn’t yet gotten around to
that complete of an examination. She wore a long gown of a immeimmery blue material that matched her skin, and clung to
her curves enough to show that she was definitely a
humanoid female. “Though she does appear to have some of
the characteristics of the Minatonkans, and…”

He went on, but no one was really listening. Hoshi was
tr to to stay out of the Doctor’s way and wondering if the
woman was ever going to wake up so she could hear her
language and try to translate it, or if she was going to
spend the day standing around uselessly in Sickbay as
opposed to sitting around uselessly on the bridge. Archer
was talking to the com panel by the door.

“But how did it get on our port bow without you seeing it?”
he was demanding.

“The ship must have utilized a cloaking device of some
sort,” T’Pol’s calm voice came through the speaker. “We
are recalibrating the scanners and enlarging our frequency
range. We are also looking for traces of known explosive
elements to determine the cause of the explosion. I expect
to know something within the hour.”

“Well, keep me posted,” Archer ordered.

“Of course, Captain.” The transmission ended.

Captain Archer poked a button. “Trip, how are those
repairs coming?”

“Pretty good, Cap’n!” came the Chief Engineer’s reply. His
voice was slightly distorted, as he was yelling to be heard
over the whir of machinery in the background. “We got the
hull breach patched and main power up.”

“Yeah, I noticed. Good work. How long will the rest of
the repairs take?”

“Oh, a few hours ‘til we’re up and runnin’, a few days and
she’ll be like new again.”

“Good. Keep me posted.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

That conversation ended, Archer stood at the com,
apparently tryto dto decide who to call next. Hoshi
reflected that his job was very much the same in times of
peace or chaos – he just kept asking everybody for progress
reports. The difference was that now everyone had
something to report. He had just raised his finger to make
the next call when a sound from the visitor garnered
everyone’s attention.

“Oo, breize mox ba?” she whispered, her hands moving weakly
as though she wanted to sit up. The Doctor was immediately
at here, he, holding a glass of water to her lips. She
smiled blearily at him and drank gratefully. When she was
done, she looked around and seemed to notice the others in
the room for the first time. “Obe mig dan?” she asked, her
voice stronger, as she tried to sit up again.

“Now, now, you’re not quite ready to get up just yet,” the
Doctor said soothingly, hoping his tone if not his words
would get through to her, as he gently pushed her back
down.

“What’s wrong with her, Doc?” Archer asked. “Is she gonna
be okay?” He couldn’t stand the idea of someone appearing
on his bridge and then dying before they had the chance to
even introduce themselves.

“Oh, yes, she should be fine. A simple case of oxygen
poisoning. You see, her respiratory system is set up to
take in 8% oxygen, but our atmosphere is approximately
twice that. I’ve given her an injection that should enable
her system to handle the overflow.”

“Should?”

“I’ll need to run a few tests over the next couple of
hours, perhaps change the dosage, but I expect it will work
just fine,” the Doctor answered in his usual jovial tone.

“Good, good,” Archer replied, looking back at the woman,
who had lain quietly, watching them, throughout the
exchange. “I’m Captain Jonathan Archer,” he intoned in his
best First Contact voice, touching his fingers to his chest
in what he hoped was the universal symbol of
identification. “And you are?”

“Ba aproba gabreefa colan macona,” the woman answered.
Then she began a long torrent of words in her as yet
untranslated language. As she spoke, she grabbed hold of
Archer’s arm and her face took on a pleading look. The
Captain found himself moved by the look in her eyes, which
he suddenly noticed were a lovely, deep sapphire blue. He
broke away from the desperate gaze just long enough to
glance at Hoshi.

But Ensign Sato wasn’t looking at him. Instead she was
furiously punching buttons on her pad, trying to work out
this new and, for her, exciting language. Her efforts were
rewarded when, a few minutes later, their visitor still
yammering away, the pad suddenly began translating a word:
“Help!”

Archer turned back to the woman. “Yes,” he said calmly,
and nodded, trying to get her to stop long enough to hear
him. “We will help you.” At the sound of a word she
understood being repeated back to her, she ceased her spiel
and her eyes grew wide.

“Help?” she asked incredulously.

“Help,” the Captain repeated, patting the hand that still
clung to him reassuringly. The woman’s face broke into a
smile that seemed to captivate him

Then the com buzzed.

“T’Pol to the Captain.”

Hoshi didn’t look up from her work at first. But after a
moment, she realized the Captain was still standing there,
holding the woman’s hand and gazing into her eyes, and the
com was still buzzing.

“T’Pol to Captain Archer. Please respond.”

“Captain?” Hoshi ventured, taking a step towards Archer.
The movement seemed to rouse him from his stupor. His
expression changed to apologetic as he gently disentangled
himself from their guest and stepped to the com panel.
Behind him, Hoshi stifled a giggle and went back to her
work.

“Archer.”

“Captain, we have discovered the cause of the explosion. I
also may know how the ship approached us undetected.”

Archer sighed, glanced back at the woman and Hoshi. When
his Communications Officer didn’t notice his questioning
glance, he spoke. “Ensign?”

“Oh, uh, this is gonna take a while, Captain.” Hoshi
glanced down at the complicated syntax she was attempting
to work through. “I’ll contact you as soon as I have
something.”

Archer sighed again, turned back to the com. “I’ll be
right there, Sub-Commander.” He turned back to Hoshi.
“Keep me posted.” And with one last lingering glance at
the woman, he left.

Hoshi looked up at the closing door and muttered “Didn’t I
just say that?” befoetureturning her attention once more to
the pad in her hands.


Scene 2

“Whatcha got?” Archer asked as he stepped onto the bridge.
T’Pol, who had been seated in the Captain’s chair, rose and
looked to Lieutenant Reed.

“The debris shows traces of trichloroganite and manganese,”
Malcolm began as the two senior officers approached. “Both
are fairly commonly found in trace amounts in various
liquids, but they are never found together.”

“Why?” asked the Captain.

“Because they are highly explosive when mixed,” answered
Reed. “Exhibit A.” He gestured to the view screen, where
a small ship was shown exploding in slow motion. As he
watched it repeat, Archer walked closer to the screen to
get a good look at the whole craft. It was of an
unfamiliar type, unsurprisingly, with a pointed nose and
tail and covered in brown overlapping plates like scales.
It looked like nothing so much as a weird alien egg.

“Back it up 4.7 seconds,” T’Pol requested. The image
changed to show clear space as seen through the port
sensors. Then something shimmered, and the ship was
suddenly there. A moment later, it exploded again.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Archer said, turning back to his crew.
“How’d it do that?”

“We are not sure yet,” T’Pol replied, stepping back to her
own station. “But I theorize that it was the same
phenomenon which brought our visitor on board.”

“A transporter? Like ours?” Archer clarified.

“No, not like yours. If I am correct, it would have to be
much more powerful. The small ship is not capable of
transporting itself. There must be a larger craft
somewhere.”

“But we aren’t detecting anything. Not even on long-range
scans,” Archer said, thinking out loud.

T’Pol nodded in confirmation. “Though that may be the
fault of our scanners. The phenomenon seems to have
created blind spots in our sensor logs. We are working to
correct them.”

“Good, good.” For a minute, Archer stood looking over
T’Pol’s shoulder. Then he crossed over and stood near
Malcolm. When he finally said “I’ll be in my Ready Room”
and disappeared through the door, the entire Bridge seemed
to heave a sigh of relief.


Scene 3

Alone in his ready room, Captain Archer paced, unable to
alight anywhere. He picked up a pad to read some reports,
but found himself unable to concentrate; he could have
sworn the face he saw reflectedk atk at him had glowing
sapphire eyes. When he banged his head on an overhead
beam, forgetting to duck, he knew it was time to sit. But
staring at the menus on the monitor at his desk was
unsatisfying. When the com panel buzzed, he nearly pounced
on it.

“Sato to the Captain.”

“Archer here. Whatcha got, Hoshi?”

“I’ve worked out a preliminary translation matrix, but-”

“I’ll be right there.”

As Archer headed through the Bridge to the turbo-lift,
Malcolm fell into step beside him. “They’ve brought some
of the debris into Launch Bay 2. Thought I’d go check it
out,” the Armory Officer explained. Archer just nodded,
and the two men rode down to E Deck in silence.

When the turbolift doors opened, Archer stepped out and
headed straight for Sickbay, while Reed turned right. But
they had barely gone two steps when Trip called out from
their left.

“Hey, Cap’n! Comin’ to see me? Hi, Malcolm.”

Lieutenant Reed turned toward his fellow officer and smiled
cordially, unsure whether he was included in the
conversation.

“Actually, I was on my way to Sickbay,” Archer was saying.
“Hoshi has worked out enough of our visitor’s language that
we can hopefully get some answers.”

“So, uh, is it true what they say?” Trip asked, taking on a
secretive air. “Is she really blue?”

Archer chuckled. “Yes, Trip, she is blue.”

“All the way down?” the engineer continued, pointing up and
down with his hands.

“I don’t know about that,” Malcolm put in, finally feeling
he had something to add. “But she is definitely bald.”

“Bald? Really?” Trip responded incredulously, with a
guffaw. “This I gotta see.”

Archer sighed and rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you both
come gawk at her now and get it out of your system.” And
he waved for them to follow him.

“Are you coming from the Torpedo Bay?” Reed asked as they
approached the Sickbay doors. The Port Torpedo Bay had
been damaged in the explosion. Tucker nodded. “How is
she?” Malcolm asked, a bit too much concern coming through
in his voice.

“Don’t worry, your baby will be up and shooting at the bad
guys in- Whoa, mama!”

They had entered Sickbay as they talked, and now found
themselves face to face with their guest. She was
apparently feeling better, sitting up on the edge of her
bed. If her skin tone had been pleasing before, it was now
luminous. And when she spied Archer, her face lit up with
a brilliant smile that made her eyes sparkle.

Malcolm and Trip had stopped just inside the door,
transfixed. Trip’s mouth was still open from his outburst,
which Malcolm might have teased him about if he had been
able to take his eyes off the visitor. Archer, however,
didn’t seem to notice the other men’s reactions, but walked
right up to the woman and took the hands she held out to
him.

“Feeling better, I see,” the Captain said amiably.

“Yes, thanks to your Doctor,” the woman beamed.

“And thanks to Hoshi, the translator’s working great.” He
turned his radiant smile on Hoshi for just a moment, then
went right back to gazing on the visitor. “So, now we can
do this right. I’m Captain Jonathan Archer.”

“My name is Gabreefa, of the clan Macona.”

Malcolm and Trip both silently mouthed the word “Gabreefa”
with something like reverence in their expressions. Hoshi,
catching this out of the corner of her eye, stared at them
as though they were insane.

“I come from a planet called Harac,” Gabreefa continued.
“For centuries, my people have been in a decline. It
started with war, and became famine and disease. Now we
have lost much of our technology, so that we cannot repair
equipment when it breaks. Our population is dwindling. In
our desperate need, we sent scouts in all our remaining
ships, hoping against hope that some would find help. And
I found you.”

“And we will help you and your people in any way we can,”
Archer replied. “Can you give us the coordinates of
Harac?”

“Yes, I have star charts in my ship. I- What’s wrong?”

Archer had broken their locked gaze at mention of her ship,
as he realized that she didn’t know. “Your ship, it, um,
blew up.”

“It- No! The leak! Oh!” And she buried her face in
Archer’s chest, her shoulders shaking. Archer, somewhat at
a loss, patted her back and looked around to find them
being watched by two rather unhappy looking men and one
rather bemused Communications Officer. Gently, he urged
Gabreefa to sit back up.

“There, there, you’re safe now,” he murmured. “You say
there was a leak that might have caused the explosion?”

“Yes, a klabisto leak,” Gabreefa answered, composing
herself quickly. Archer looked to Hoshi, but she just
shrugged; the translator was still having trouble with a
few words. “I thought I had fixed it,” Gabreefa continued,
“but I guess I tlamag it up.”

“I think tlamag means-” Hoshi started to say, but Archer
cut her off.

“I can figure that one out myself, thanks.” The Captain
looked at Malcolm, who took a moment to acknowledge, but
then nodded. He would look into the leak and its possible
connection to the incident. “Well then, Gabreefa, if I
could get you to look at some star charts, maybe we can
figure out where your home planet is. That is, if you feel
up to it?”

“Oh, yes, I feel fine.” And as though to illustrate, she
slipped off the bed and stood, her body right up against
Archer’s. There was a noticeable pause before he stepped
back.

The Captain had just calledthe the current star maps of the
area on a nearby monitor when the com buzzed.

“T’Pol to Archer.”

With a sigh, Archer excused himself. “Archer,” he said
into the panel.

“Captain, I have a new theory about the appearance of the
ship.”

Archer sighed again, glanced at Gabreefa. Only he couldn’t
see her, as Trip and Malcolm had surrounded her and were
both talking at once. “I’ll be right there,” Archer
growled into the com panel before crossing to the monitor
in one stride and jerking his two officers back by their
collars. This also served to shut them up, a welcome
byproduct.

“Mr. Tucker, will you please assist Gabreefa in searching
the star charts for her home planet.” He hated to do it,
especially when he saw the smirk Trip sent Malcolm’s way at
the announcement, but Trip was the only person in the room
qualified. “Mr. Reed, I believe you were on your way to
Launch Bay 2?” he asked rhetorically, in his best command
voice. The Lieutenant, to his credit, merely nodded,
straightened his uniform with a firm tug, and went on his
way.

Hoshi, who had watched the whole thing and was now red with
the effort of holding in her laughter, was next on Archer’s
agenda.

“Ensign Sato, will you require more time to interview our
guest?”

“No, sir, it’s all in here,” Hoshi waved her pad. “I just
need to sit down and work it out.”

“Then I suggest you do so.” And Archer gestured for her to
precede him through the door. Thus the Captain and a
somewhat chastened Communications Officer left Sickbay.

“Well, Miss Gabreefa,” Trip began, with a smile that could
have melted ice. “I don’t believe we were properly
introduced. Commander Charles Tucker.” He held out a
hand. She looked at for a long moment before taking it.
When she did, he shook her hand warmly. “But you can call
me Trip.”

“Trip,” she repeated, and turned her dazzling smile on him
for the first time. It was as though he had been living in
a cave and was coming out into the sunlight. Trip merely
basked in it for a minute before finally shaking himself.

“Um, so, yeah, this is where we are right now.” And he
pointed at the star chart on the screen.


Scene 4

“Wait, so you’re saying the ship wasn’t transported after
all?” Captain Archer was leaning over T’Pol, who sat at
her station.

“I am saying that there were two different phenomenon
involved. Whether one of them was what we think of as a
transporter remains to be discovered. However, of the two,
the phenomenon which brought the female onto the Bridge is
more similar to a transporter beam.”

“And the other phenomenon? The one that brought her ship
right up under our nose without us noticing?”

“A cloaking device of some kind.”

“You said that before, but then you changed your mind.”

“That is because it is unlike any cloaking device I have
seen before,” T’Pol responded, ignoring the note of
annoyance in her Captain’s voice. “I was attempting to
force it into a category that I understood. That effort
has failed. I am now attempting to determine a way to
trace a ship cloaked with such a device.”

“Ah, go at it from the other side. If you can trace it, it
must have been cloaked. Interesting. Oh, it might help
you to know that Gabreefa said she had a leak from her
ship.”

“What was her ship leaking?”

“We’re not sure,” Archer shrugged. “Malcolm is looking
into it.”

“Yes, I’m sure that will prove quite helpful,” quipped
T’Pol as she turned back to her viewer.

Scene 5

“I’m sorry, Trip, I just don’t recognize anything,”
Gabreefa said, shaking her head sadly. “I’ve never seen
charts like this before. This is the only time I’ve ever
been in space, I-”

“It’s okay, really,” Trip soothed, rubbing her back. He
couldn’t stand to see her upset. “Hey, I know, why don’t
we take a break, I could show ya around the ship. Whadda
ya say?”

Gabreefa brightened up immediately. “Oh, that sounds
wonderful.” Then she leaned closer and added in a whisper
“Anything to get me out of Sickbay.”

“I’m with ya there,” Trip replied. They both glanced a
little guiltily at Dr. Phlox, who was busily synthesizing
more of the drug Gabreefa would need as long as she stayed
on the ship. “Hey, Doc!” Trip called. When the Doctor
turned, he went on. “Does she check out? I mean, can she
get outta here?”

Phlox put down what he was doing and came toward them,
wiping his hands on a towel. “Oh, yes, tests show the drug
is working just fine. She’s the picture of Haracian
health, at least as far as I can tell. Now, if you feel
any dizziness, nausea, or shortness of breath, contact me
immediately. Other than that, you’re free to do anything
the rest of the crew does.”

“Thanks, Doc.”

“Yes, thank you so much, Doctor Phlox.”

“Any time.”

As the pair headed out the Sickbay doors, Trip asked, “So
where do ya wanna go?”

“I think I’d like to see where your people congregate,”
Gabreefa answered. “I’ve never seen your species before,
and I find you quite…intriguing.”

“I can assure you that the feelin’ is quite mutual,” Trip
replied, offering her his arm. “This way.”

As it was meal time, there were many people in the mess
hall when they arrived. Every one of them turned to
blatantly stare at their new passenger. Trip broke the
heavy silence.

“Everyone, this is Gabreefa, from the planet Harac.”

Like a dam bursting, the room suddenly went from unsettling
quiet to a cheerful din as everybody tried to shake
Gabreefa’s hand first. Trip kept his hold on her left arm
as the crew filed by. For her part, Gabreefa seemed as
fascinated with them as they were with her. She was
especially drawn to touch the hair of several of the people
who passed, and judiciously allowed them to touch her head.
When the novelty had passed, and before a new wave of
people could enter, Trip asked if there was anything else
in particular that she would like to see.

“Where do you work?” she replied with a question of her
own.

“In Main Engineering, mostly. Although I’ve probably
crawled around every inch of this ship at one time or
another.”

“Could I see it? Main Engineering?”

“Uh, well, I’d probably have to clear that with the Cap’n.
You know, security reasons and all that.”

“I understand,” said Gabreefa, though she looked a little
disappointed. “Then how about where you live?”

“Uh…” Trip felt like there was a reason not to go there,
either, but for the life of him he just couldn’t remember
what it might be. And he sure didn’t want to disappoint
her again. Where the hell else was there to go on the
ship, anyway? “Okay. Right this way.”

Officers’ quarters being right next to the mess hall, they
hadn’t far to go, and Trip soon found himself ushering
Gabreefa into his room. As she entered in front of him, he
noticed for the first time that the back of her neck was a
darker blue than the rest of the skin he could see, and he
began to wonder if there were other color variations hidden
under that gown. He was jarred back from that pleasant but
inappropriate chain of thought by the sight of Gabreefa
holding up a piece of dirty laundry he’d left lying around.

“Uh, let me get that. And this, and this,” he muttered as
he hurriedly cleared his one chair of debris. When he
turned around to invite her to sit, she was standing a lot
closer than he had thought. “Would you like to sit?” he
managed to get out of his suddenly dry mouth.

Ignoring the question, Gabreefa reached out and ran her
hand through his hair. “I was wondering, do you have fur
anywhere else?”

“Uh, well, yeah, but-”

“May I see?” she asked, stepping even closer, her hands
going to his chest.

“Well, um,” he stammered, taking a step backward, which
only put him up against the wall. She stayed with him, her
hands roaming now.

“And are you this color everywhere?” she whispered near his
ear.

“Funny, I was just wonderin’ the same thing about you,” he
answered with a forced laugh, trying not to sound flustered
and failing miserably.

“Then wonder no more,” she said, and in one smooth motion
she stepped back and pulled her gown off over her head.

She wore nothing under it, and as the clingy fabric had
promised, her body was well-proportioned in the humanoid
manner. But the coloration was the most magnificent part.
Her head, arms, and breasts were the light blue he’d seen
already. But starting just beneath her breasts, the blue
darkened to a deeper sapphire, covering her like a corset,
and rippling into an iridescent purple across her hips.
Her thighs were of a paler lilac, which blended back into
light blue on her lower legs. The effect was erotic, as
though she were wearing form-fitting lingerie. Combined
with the exotic look her hairlessness gave her, she was a
captivating sight. Trip couldn’t seem to keep himself from
reaching out to touch her skin. She stepped right into his
open arms.

“You’re beautiful,” Trip whispered.

“Your turn,” she murmured. And her hands began to help him
divest himself of his cumbersome clothing. As he shrugged
out of the sleeves of his coveralls, she was pulling up the
shirt underneath, marveling at the hairs on his chest. The
shirt off over his head, she followed the line of hair she
found on his belly downward until she was kneeling before
him, pulling down his pants, and finally exposing his
groin.

Not surprisingly, by this time Trip found himself quite
aroused, his cock standing at attention. But Gabreefa
seemed more interested in the nest from which it protruded,
running her fingertips through the curly hairs, pulling on
them gently. Trip let his head fall back against the wall,
trying to convince himself that it was okay if, a minute
from now, she simply got up and put her clothes back on
with a cheerful “Thanks for sharing!” And really, he
continued telling himself, it would be better that way,
because having sex with aliens is really not the ethical,
upstanding, Starfleet Officer type thing to do.

Then he felt her take his cock in her mouth, and he quit
lying to himself. He wanted her, it was gonna happen, and
fuck protocol.

Lifting his head from the wall, he looked down and watched
as she nibbled down one side of his cock and up the other.
When she caught his eye, she gave his erection one last
kiss and stood up. For a long moment they just gazed into
each other’s eyes. Then they were in a passionate embrace,
their arms enveloping, their lips seeking.

Trip felt as though he were floating. It all seemed too
impossibly perfect to be real. Her skin was impossibly
smooth, and seemed to thrum under his touch. Her mouth
tasted impossibly sweet, different from any human woman
he’d ever kissed. A part of his mind, a very small part,
realized that this had to do with her differing body
chemistry, but most of his mind was thinking only “Oh,
yeah.”

Blindly, he guided them toward his cot, which was after all
only a few steps away. They fell onto the sheets together.
When he finally came up for breath, he found himself
wondering what the rest of her felt and tasted like, and
began a, if not slow, at least thorough exploration. The nds nds she made as he went were familiar to him, though
peppered with untranslatable words. He let himself believe
that they were all good things, and went on with his
ministrations.

When he reached her groin, giving the impossibly soft,
smooth, purple skin of her mound a thorough licking, and
she spread her legs eagerly for him, there was a moment of
panic in which he wondered if he might finally uncover some
great difference between their species. But no, here, too,
she was similar to human women. On such familiar ground,
Trip deftly elicited even more moans and untranslatable
exclamations. One such exclamation Gabreefa had to repeat
before he understood. And still it took her hands pulling
none too gently on his hair to bring him up to lay atop
her.

Trip was slowly aligning their bodies and trying to catch
his breath enough to ask the obligatory “Are you sure this
is what you want?” when Gabreefa made it a moot point by
wrapping her legs around his hips and thrusting, impaling
herself on his shaft.
ip lip let out a deep moan as he felt himself enveloped. She
was impossibly tight, impossibly hot, and if he had let
himself, he would have come right then and there. But
valiantly he held back, letting her set the pace. And what
a pace it was. As she bucked and moaned beneath him, it
was all Trip could do to stay on. It was with great relief
that he finally felt her spasming around him and let
himself go. This only seemed to incite her to new heights
of pleasure, and it was some time before they were still,
resting in each other’s arms as their breathing returned to
normal.

Trip was just starting to be capable of coherent thought
again, and the first such thought to cross his mind was
that the second time was generally even better than the
first, when the com panel buzzed.

“Archer to Tucker. Where are ya Trip?”

“Oh, hell,” Trip muttered, as he slid off Gabreefa and
scrambled frantically for the com button. “Tucker here. I
took Gabreefa for a dime tour o’ the ship. She just had to
get outta Sickbay.”

“Understood. Make your next attraction the Bridge. We
think we know how to find Harac.”