Answers

Answers

Chapter Eight


* * * * *

The air was thick and old. The dual suns had set several hours ago on the southern continent. The light from the shuttlepod shone on the eastern dial. The dust on the control was almost impenetrable as Hoshi, Jon and Trip swept away the offending nuisance. “There!” Hoshi pointed at the symbol she had seen in her mind and approached it warily. She ran her hands over the fluorescent inscription, her eyes widening and darkening.

“Yes, mother. That’s it,” Henry whispered. “You must turn the dial to face the western tower. All the dials must face the opposite tower in synchronicity.” Hoshi’s mouth moved in time with her son’s instructions.

“Lieutenant Reed to Captain Archer.”

“Go ahead,” Jon said.

“We’re at the western dial. I think we have found the custodians. They’re dead. If I’m reading the tracks right, the Klingons have been here.” Malcolm sounded grim, yet alert.

“T’Pol, are there any signs of Klingons in the system?” Jon asked the Vulcan, knowing she would be monitoring the comm units.

“No. But, we will continue to monitor the area,” T’Pol stated.

“Keep me informed. Malcolm, we need to turn the dials to their polar opposites simultaneously. Have Travis take the shuttle to the southern dial. Contact me when you’re in place. Archer out. Trip, take the shuttle and go to the northern dial.”

Jon turned to Hoshi where she stood transfixed, worry etched across his face.

Trip hesitated, obviously worried about Hoshi too.

“Trip, what are you waiting for?” asked Jon.

Trip took a step back and resigned himself to his task and walked toward the shuttle.

--

“Sir, I’m in place at the southern dial.” Travis informed Jon. “Just give the word.”

"Keep your comm line open," Jon said. "Malcolm?"

“Yes, sir. I’m here.” The clipped British tone came over the communicator.

Trip was the last to chime in. “Cap’n, I’m in place.”

“On the count of three. Everybody turn the dials to their polar opposites.” Jon looked at Hoshi, who was standing impassive with her hand on the dial. He feared she had reverted back into her madness. “Hoshi?”

Hoshi could hear the concern in Jon’s voice. “I’m still here, Jon. Henry is waiting. We must hurry.” Hoshi could see the other side so clearly. The pain was a dull ache now.

“One… two… three.” Hoshi turned the dial in front of her and the ground started to shake. There was silence. Then there was a deafening roar as the ground surged up into the sky before shrinking onto itself. Darkness formed around them only to be replaced by blinding brightness. Shadows emerged from the light. The mixture of Paradoxans, Paradoxan ships and transports flooded the sky and surface within seconds. It resembled a mass migration played in fast forward motion. Jon was in awe. Hoshi was still transfixed.

She could hear her son more clearly now, without the excruciating pain. Henry was waving more Paradoxans through the vortex looking over his shoulder at the darkness that had claimed Paradoxan space and lives. The darkness encroached on everything in its path, intent on destruction. There was no defense against it.

--

Trip stepped away from the vortex in awe of the site before him. There were millions of Paradoxans flowing through the portal, piling onto the planet around them with some ascending into the air. One Paradoxan stopped in its tracks and floated toward Trip, wrapping the engineer in an embrace of welcome.

“Glad ta see ya too.” Trip patted the alien on its transparent fin.

“Any sign of Henry, yet?” The anticipation in Jon’s voice was barely noticeable over the comm unit.

Trip heard Travis and Malcolm report no sign of anything other than Pardoxans. “Henry’s not here either, sir. Maybe he’s bein’ fashionably late,” Trip said, trying to lessen Jon’s anxiety.

“Keep an eye out for him. Hoshi says she doesn’t hear him any more.”

Time seemed to have stood still as the Paradoxans poured from the swirling pool. The communicators stayed silent. No one had seen Henry. Trip was anxious to see him, to explain to him why he had had to grow up without a mamma or a papa. Even though Hoshi had forgiven him, Trip had yet to forgive himself. He felt like he had failed Jon as he watched him grieve over Hoshi during the last few weeks.

Then there was Hoshi. He had hated her, not able to understand the reasons which drove her to hurt his best friend. During their time on Paradox, his hatred for her turned into respect – respect for the life she had led and the difficult decisions she had had to make. Yes, the decisions she had made regarding Jon were misguided at best, but he had finally been able to understand them. The last weeks of her pregnancy, his respect turned into fondness. He would watch her stroke her pregnant belly as she talked to the baby inside. There was just something so natural and primitive that stirred him about it. He felt honored and thrilled when she asked him if he wanted to feel the baby move.

Eventually the fondness he felt for her grew into something he did not want to admit. It had grown into love. He had fallen in love with her. At first he had denied it adamantly, ignoring the feelings. That made him more miserable than he had already been. He recognized he loved her after Henry was born. He realized he had loved her before he had even met her; that he had been searching for her all of these years…

--

Four years earlier…

“Commander Tucker. I have a really big favor to ask of you,” Captain Connors said to the young Commander as he stepped off the transport from Jupiter station.

Trip rolled his eyes at his friend. Now what did he want? “Well, don’t keep me in suspense. Who do you want to hook me up with now?”

Chris had the audacity to look chagrined. He had known Trip for years, having met him through a mutual acquaintance. Trip’s prowess with the girls superceded his prowess for warp engines. “I – Starfleet is in need of … um… your services for a mission of the… um… utmost delicacy. We are in the process of training a level five intelligence operative…”

“Okay. And this has what to do with me?” Trip’s curiosity was piqued.

“Well, level fives are deep covers. This particular level five is being placed in a somewhat ‘risqué’ role. When we recruited her we didn’t realize her… um …sexual experiences were so… um… limited. She recently took on a lover, but it is felt that she needs more experience before we place her in the field.” Conners looked up at his friend with pleading in his eyes.

“I repeat. What has this got to do with me?” Trip sounded amused at his friend’s unease.

“I need you to bed this level five. She needs more experience before we send her out. She needs to be trained. I would do it myself, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. I’ve known her for too long. The exchange would be completed in total anonymity, both partners wearing masks and calling each other by their ranks only. It’s merely a training exercise.”

Trip had stopped dead and was standing in the middle of the terminal with his mouth hanging wide open. “You have got to be shitting me. Are you ordering me to bed an officer for training purposes? That is the most depraved thing I have heard of!”

Conners stopped alongside Trip, his shoulders slumped in defeat. “I guess I will have to find someone else to do it. We can’t send her out without further training. She has the mechanics down pat, but lacks the experience. I didn’t want to run the risk of hooking her up with someone who would hurt her. That is why I am asking you, Trip. Your sex life is the stuff legends are made of…”

“What the hell do you know about my sex life?” Trip’s mind swam at the information.

“Trip, I am in Starfleet Intelligence.” Connors rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I was kind of hoping to hook my level five with someone who would be kind, yet knowledgeable, if you know what I mean.”

“Is nothing sacred anymore?” Trip asked more to himself than to his friend. “Can I think on it?”

“Don’t think too long. The window to place her is closing fast.” Connors walked off, a smug look on his face.

He knew Trip hadn’t gotten any for a few months now, a truly long spell for the Commander.

--

Trip adjusted the mask, feeling ridiculous like he should be locked in a closet with a girl.
He lay on the bed naked, waiting for his trainee. He heard the door open and close and his trainee moving to take her clothes off. “Ensign?”

“Yes, Commander?” The Ensign replied behind the screen.

“I, uh… nothing.” The southern drawl sounded nervous. He could see her silhouette through the screen as she disrobed. She was moving with great efficiency as though she had done it several times before. She adjusted her mask and walked out from behind the screen. The Commander was immediately struck by the contrast between her alabaster skin and the raven hair that flew over her shoulders. He could see a slight tremor in her stance and decided to take the initiative so he stood, his naked form towering over her.

The Commander placed his large callused hands on the Ensign’s slim shoulders and spun her away from him. She stood there, compliant. “Tell me if I do anything you don’t like. Tell me if there is anything you have ever wondered about and would like to do. I’m not a mind reader. I won’t know anything, if ya don’t tell me.”

The Commander lifted the silken hair from his pupil’s shoulders, and kissed his way along her shoulder, thankful the mask was only across his eyes and that he would be able to use his tongue and lips. He placed soft licks along the Ensign’s shoulder and wrapped his arm around her slim yet definitive waist. He could feel the pulse along the base of her neck jump, knowing he was being accepted.

His hand traveled the plane of her stomach, twirling erotic patterns along its path. Soon, it brushed along the under swell of her pert breast. Her arms reached up and back to hold his head. He continued to suckle her neck as she arched into his palm. After grazing the underside, teasing her, he began to tweak her nipples. They were already pebble hard with arousal.

Suddenly, the Ensign turned and pressed herself against her commanding officer. She was showing initiative, taking his erect phallus in her hand to stroke.

The Commander pulled away as the pleasure of her touch sent shockwaves through his being. “Whoa there, sweetie! You’re skipping the important stuff.” He reached for her face, pulling it to him. His hand cupped her jaw while his other hand held on to the back of her head. He could tell she was of oriental ancestry. Her hair was the silkiest of raven and her face was shaped like a heart. He looked into her deep almond eyes. Her pupils were dilated with passion. He traced the outline of her bow-shaped lips with his tongue, pulling away whenever she would try to get closer. He could tell she was trying to be succinct while learning. “Stay still and let me show you some stuff.”

The Commander kissed the Ensign’s palm and worked his way up her arm, paying close attention to her forearm. He had her writhing with the nips he had taken on her forearm. Apparently, she hadn’t been introduced to the potential of that erogenous zone. As he neared here shoulder and neck, his lips traveled a path toward her breasts. He kissed a small crescent scar over her left breast. “How did you get that?” He knew not to get too personal, but couldn’t help himself.

“A childhood accident,” replied the Ensign. Her hands were roaming of their own volition over the broad width of the Commander’s chest. Her hands mimicked what his hands were doing to her breasts. He tugged on her long hair and started to kiss his way along her jaw line. The kiss consisted of nips and licks along the way. He continued this method down her neck toward her chest, replacing his hands and lavishing attention on both mounds and their peaks. She still had her head thrown back, arching her back, letting his wide hands hold her back and force her to his mouth.

The noises coming from his “trainee” aroused him beyond belief. He could feel the blood pounding between the apex of his thighs. He led their two forms to the bed, gently laying her down as he continued to arouse her with his gifted mouth. He wanted to make her ache like he ached. He laid her down, kissing a path from her neck to her breasts to her stomach. He lay between her thighs reveling in the heat that emanated from her core. He placed the heel of his hand on her mound and rubbed. She was wound so tight he thought she would break as he continued to slip through her folds and lavish attention along her lips. Her whole body would tremble whenever he stroked over her swollen nub.

The Commander used his broad shoulders and hands to force greater access to the Ensign’s feminine essence. She was shimmering. He was now in position to taste her but wanted her writhing for it, so he massaged her inner thighs with his capable hands and stroked the sensitive skin with the roughness of his face. Slipping two fingers into her tightness, he bestowed his considerations between her warm nether lips. His fingers pressed and stroked deep inside her while he drank greedily from her fount. Time stood still as the sandy blonde head moved up and down drinking in the cries of release from the novice. But, his needs could no longer be denied.

The Commander rolled onto his side after imbibing the evidence of her release. She was still shuddering from her last orgasm. Always the professional, she moved to mimic his moves on her, but he reached out to stop her. “Not that I’m not flattered, but I wouldn’t last long. I’d rather feel ya round me. If ya know what I mean.”

The Ensign nodded and straddled his hips. Her hair fell down framing their masked faces in a curtain of dark silk. She lifted her hips, took hold of his girth, and settled her sheath around him. It was his turn to arch his back in pleasure as the sensations of her tightness surrounded him. He couldn’t vocalize what he was thinking because his mind had stopped working as his base animalistic needs took over. The Ensign raked her nails across his nipples as she moved her hips. The unyielding walls around his engorged erection moved in their own time and their own need. His hands sought her hips, moving them for quicker friction. He could feel her sheath constrict around him. In answer to her release he found his, filling her with the evidence of his orgasm.

When he woke the next morning, the Ensign was gone. She had seemed so sad as though she were in pain. He was a nurturer by nature and had felt an overwhelming need to comfort her. That night played in the back of his head. It became a part of him, almost a need for him. He tried to wrangle the identity of the Ensign out of Captain Conners, but he wouldn’t budge. Trip cursed him and walked away, a part of him missing.

--

… One night, as she nursed Henry, her shawl had slipped, revealing a view of the alabaster swell of her breast and a very familiar scar. A rock settled into his gut. “Where did ya get that scar?”

Hoshi was startled and adjusted her shawl. “A childhood accident.”

Trip felt like a peeping Tom as he stared at the shawl. The implications of who she was and whom she had been pressed down on him. The guilt was overwhelming. There he was lusting after his best friend’s girl nursing his best friend’s child. He had been looking for this woman for several years now and the realization that she was totally unobtainable to him struck him like a mortal blow.

He finally realized that is what drove him to drag Hoshi back to their reality. He couldn’t stand the guilt and incompleteness. If they had stayed on Paradox, it would have killed him. His guilt was compounded by jealously – jealously over Jon staying with Hoshi. Now they were to be reunited with their son.

He envied their impending happiness.

The stream of Paradoxans fleeing the cascade started to taper off as the suns began to rise. The disparity between the light of the suns and the darkness in the whirlpool expanded, the darkness overtaking what little light there was left in the vortex. Trip rubbed his eyes as the fatigue of the night wore on him. He looked into the vortex and saw a speck of black coming through, only it wasn’t part of the darkness.

Trip looked hard at the approaching figure, a man. He had the same tall build as his father and his mother’s coloring, especially the blue black of his hair. Henry was dressed in vibrant flowing robes of golden hues. He carried himself with the aura of mystery and self-purpose. Trip’s breath caught at the sight of the young man as he walked toward him. Trip stood there, rooted to the spot. Thoughts of leaving Henry behind flooded his mind along with the devastating guilt.

His self-reproach was forgotten when Henry drew near. Trip could see Henry’s eyes. They were the same color of his father’s. Unlike his father’s eyes, Henry’s reflected worry and regret. “Trip?”

“Yes?” Trip’s gut jumped into his throat at the sight of Henry.

“Where …mother?” Henry’s English was broken with a heavy foreign accent. He looked over Trip’s head, panic in his eyes.

“She is at the eastern dial.” Trip watched as Henry’s eyes misted over and his shoulders slumped in anguish.

“Henry no touch mother.” Henry wiped at his eyes and his posture took on an air of resolution. “Tell mother Henry love mother. Henry love Trip. Henry love father.”

Trip reached out to Henry, wrapping the younger man in a bear hug. “You can tell them when you see them.” Trip had tears of relief streaming down his cheeks.

Henry shook his head no and pulled away from the human contact. “Henry no stay. Four stay to close dials on other side. Stop cascade killing more.” With that said, Henry turned to go back through the vortex.

Trip held on to him. “Wait a Goddamn minute. You mean to tell me somebody’s got to stay behind on the other side so that thing that’s killing everything can’t get through this gate? Why don’t we just close this side? That’ll stop it.” Trip was desperate, clawing at anything to keep Henry.

“Gate must close both side to fix. Three stay. I am four. I must go back.” Henry tried to pull away.

“Let me go!” Trip yelled.

He realized now what he had to do. He didn’t have time to second-guess himself. The guilt and self-loathing had been steadily eating away at his soul. He wasn’t going to let Jon down again. He couldn’t let Jon or Hoshi down again.

“I’ll go through and stay. Your parents are dying to meet ya.”

“Trip no die. Henry die.” Henry tried in vain to pull away from Trip to complete his mission. He didn’t see the human fist in time as it connected with his jaw, rendering him unconscious. Trip laid Henry down gently. A Paradoxan flitted over to them, its mannerisms and vocalizations shrill.

Hoping it could understand what he was saying, Trip grabbed hold on its flapping wings and looked it straight in the eye. “It’s up to you to close this dial! I’ll take care of the one on the other side of the gate!”

Trip looked at the unconscious form on the ground and knew he had made the right decision. He rushed into the darkness of the vortex.

TBC