NEW ENT WIP: Alien Us 25/? R/S [R]

[Philippe de la Matraque]

Title: Alien Us
Author: Philippe de la Matraque
Part: 25/? (in progress)
Series: ENT
Rating: R (for violence and torture)
Pairing: R/S light
Archive: Yes to Trekiverse.org, otherwise, please ask.
Contact: pdelam...@kc.rr.com
Web: http://gabrielle.sytes.net/Trek/pdelamatraque.html
YahooGroup: AlienUsCollaboration.YahooGroups.com
Summary: For Reed and Hoshi, this is their Roswell, and they are the aliens.


Alien Us
by Philippe de la Matraque

Chapter 25

"Samwyze? Do you hear me?" Baezhu's heart was still pounding, but he'd
definitely gone too far to back out now. He'd already committed a crime
and, given the secrecy around the aliens, one likely punishable by death.

The alien's eyelids fluttered.

"It's Baezhu. I won't hurt you."

They were in a quiet room in a quiet corridor. The only sounds in the
whole place were the machine providing nutrients and medication to Samwyze
and the animals in the other corridors. And one guard who wouldn't come
this way for another hour.

Samwyze opened his eyes. They closed again and then snapped open. Baezhu
wasn't sure if he read anger or fear in those eyes. At the moment, his eyes
were all Samwyze could move.

Baezhu held up his hand and the device he'd taken from the secure
laboratory. "I want to help you."


Turn had begun three days ago, and Baezhu had made the hardest decision of
his young life. Samwyze had been rushed to surgery and put back together,
but the decision was made that it was safer to keep him in a
medically-induced coma until Turn was over and everyone could think
straighter. Zhenah had had the sense not to argue too strongly. He left
the room. Kenu, on the other hand, was beside himself.

"I didn't mean for that to happen," he pleaded.

"You should have known he'd be too aggressive," Dr. Bishtae argued. "Even
you were. It's at this time we have to discipline ourselves all the more.
You lost control."

Kenu sat and dropped his head. "I just wanted answers. You have your
experiments and exploratory surgeries. I only have words. I'm a linguist. I
need something to work with."

"Linguists aren't inquisitors, Kenu," Burha snapped. "They're scientists.
They study. They do not torture."

"But he was trying to trick me!" Kenu argued. "Thirteen distinct languages
at least! And then the signal. Zhenah and Kaife had call me in to help.
What help? It was like another language. Probably a code."

Bishtae stepped closer. "Kaife is here? At Kennisitai?"

"C Wing, secure lab," Kenu replied. "He's in charge of studying the alien
technology from the desert. I shouldn't say any more."

"No," Bishtae agreed, "you shouldn't. Keep your work with Kaife there.
You shouldn't have brought it here at all. Breach of security."

C Wing, device, alien technology. Signal. A communications device.
Baezhu had worked it out that night. an alien communications device was in
the secure lab in C Wing. Kenu had said the aliens had sent a signal in the
desert. They had crashed so maybe they had tried calling for help. It had
been months since then, but maybe someone could still help if they could
call again. Samwyze didn't have a future under the Raptors, and Baezhu
hated the idea of having to participate in his torture again.

The next day, the day before Turn, Baezhu had taken the dejected Hinath
aside to speak in private. Hinath had no chips, so he had been chosen to
stay the two weeks in the facility to watch over the alien's unconscious
form and to tend the animals. Baezhu offered to take his place, provided
Hinath told no one. Hinath, with the offer of relief from his own surging
hormones and desires, readily agreed. They were the last two to leave the
facility for the night. Baezhu stayed and Hinath went.

The one person he couldn't hide from was Kahrae. Being a guard, Kahrae did
have to guard a few nights during Turn. He was on rotation. The other
guards wouldn't know which Winged had been assigned to stay behind, but
Kahrae knew Baezhu had made the quota. Baezhu found him in the corridor the
second night of Turn.

"Baezhu?" Kahrae had been shocked to see him. "What are you doing here?
Are you rotating, too?"

"Yes," Baezhu lied. It hurt to do it but he couldn't implicate his friend
by telling him the truth. "Hinath will be in next week."

Kahrae shook his head. "That must be frustrating!"

Baezhu let his eyes go wide. He didn't have to lie about that. "You have
no idea!"

"We'll just hold out. You'll get your chance."

"What about you?" Baezhu asked.

"I got them both the same day." Kahrae sounded just a bit guilty. "I
couldn't wait for the second. Now I'm all out of chips, but at least I get
to rest most of the holidays."

Baezhu smiled. "I'll probably do the same when my turn comes. It'll be
nice to just rest for a few days. Are you the only guard around here?"

Kahrae shook his head. "The only one inside. There are still two at every
exit. It's a good thing I got inside rotation before Turn. I only have to
work two days. The poor guys outside have to work six."

Baezhu bobbed his head. "Lucky!"

Kahrae had to continue his rounds. He patted Baezhu on the back for
encouragement then set off. Baezhu made a show of checking on Samwyze, but
when Kahrae was far enough away, Baezhu followed him. He stayed one
corridor back at each turn and kept following until he arrived back at
Samwyze's room an hour and a half later. Kahrae was just looking in the
window.

"I still think he's ugly," he commented.

"He probably thinks the same of you," Baezhu had quipped. And when Kahrae
asked where he'd been, he said he'd just come from the toilet down the hall.
"It's nicer. Besides, I don't want to go in front of him, coma or not!"

The next night, he had timed the guard on his rounds and stole away to C
Wing when fifteen minutes had passed since the guard had gone past Samwyze's
room. He returned with the device and waited for the guard to pass again.
Then he slowed the drip of anesthetics so that Samwyze would wake up.


Malcolm squinted to focus his groggy vision on what Smeagol was holding up.
Once he recognized it, the grogginess left him. His breath quickened and he
realized he could move a bit. The drugs were wearing off.

*Hoshi!** he called out in his mind. He needed her.

"Malcolm! How are you? Are they hurting you again?"

*Look,** he told her. He flipped the video switch on the console and she
gasped.

"The communicator!"

Smeagol spoke and Hoshi translated. "He has to put it back soon. He wants
you to use it to call for help."

*Do you think it's a trap? I don't know that my mind is up to figuring
that out. He's just pulled me out.**

"Well, he's helped you before. It's their mating time, Malcolm. Everyone
seemed to go nuts. Pipa called it a holiday. They don't have to work. I
still do. Do you see any of the others, any cameras?"

Malcolm turned his head to look around. There was a camera but its red
light was off.

Smeagol spoke again. "He says he's probably going to get in a lot of
trouble for this, but he couldn't watch you suffer-or participate in
it--without at least trying to help you find a way out. The Raptors will be
in charge for the next four years. They'll torture you. They'll probably
kill you."

Malcolm reached out for the communicator, and Smeagol let him take it.
*Would it do any good? **Enterprise* can't still be here. Who will hear
it?**

"Anyone. It's worth trying. We came for a signal, didn't we? We have to
try."

*Not English, just in case.**

"Denobulan then, like the other one. They've been in space longer. They
might stand a better chance of being understood than us by a passing ship
anyway."

*Alright. What do we say? 'We are from the Starship **Enterprise*. We
need to be rescued?**

"The first part works. Just repeat after me."

Malcolm opened the communicator and adjusted the frequency. He got a
signal. He could transmit. But would anyone receive? Hoshi started to
speak slowly in Denobulan. Malcolm tried to repeat, but his mouth was so
dry and it hurt his chest. His voice sounded weak and raspy. She started
again and so did he, a little stronger this time. The only word he
understood was *Enterprise.** He thought for a moment and turned off Audio
II. He could still hear her but she wouldn't be able to hear through his
ears. He used his other hand to tap on his chest. Two words in Morse code.

"That's it," she said. Malcolm didn't repeat that part. He ended his
transmission and then closed the communicator. He handed it back to
Smeagol.

Smeagol nodded and took his hand for a moment. He spoke. "He hopes
someone hears. He wishes he could have gotten to know you better--as a
person--and that you didn't have to fear his people."

*Help me thank him.**

"*Sherisnoda,**" Hoshi said.

Malcolm looked Smeagol--Bayzhoo--in the eyes. "*Sherisnoda.**"

Smeagol's eyes widened and he said something. "He said he'll pretend you
never said that. He also says you'll be under for the rest of *Serinta**. I
think that's the holidays, the mating. Hopefully no one will every know
about this until someone comes for you."

*For us,** he corrected. *If it happens, I'll tell them where to find
you.**

"I know you will."

Bayzhoo reached for the machine and Malcolm felt his body tingle.

*Goodnight, Hoshi. No matter what happens, I want you to know I love you
more than life itself.**

"I love you, too. More than anything. I'll listen for you after the
holidays."

Malcolm could barely hear the last word. It dissolved into black
nothingness and he was out.


"Sir," Hoshi called out. "I'm picking up a signal. It's garbled but it
doesn't seem to be a distress call."

Archer stood and came closer to her. "What makes you say that?"

Hoshi ran her fingers over her console again. "It's not on all frequencies
or even a wide band," she stated. "It's on our frequency, like it was sent
directly to us. And it doesn't seem to repeat."

"Let's hear it," Archer ordered. The message played but Archer could
barely tell there was a voice at all through all the static. Hoshi Sato,
though, had an amazing sense of hearing.

She shook her head. "I can't make it out, but it almost seems to have a
Denobulan inflection."

Archer took her word for it. "Try and clear it up and see if the doctor
can shed any light on it." He turned to T'Pol. "Can we tell where it's
coming from?"

T'Pol looked up from her instruments. "It appears to originate from the
fourth planet in the nearest system. About one hundred thousand kilometers
out."

Archer now turned to Tactical. "Mr. Reed, can you read anything on the
planet?"

"Some, sir," Reed said, without looking up from his console. "There's a
strong magnetic field that's distorting our scans of the planet itself, but
I make out geosynchronous satellites in orbit. There are no ships in orbit
of that planet or any other in the system. Nothing on subspace either."

T'Pol interrupted, "It appears to be inhabited by a prewarp society. There
is evidence of surface to air vessels that can reach beyond the atmosphere."

Archer turned back to Hoshi. "But this signal came in on a subspace
frequency?" She nodded. Archer went on. "Well, that's a bit of a mystery,
isn't it? It would appear that there's someone down there who doesn't
belong. Someone who knows our address. Let's take a look. Mr. Mayweather.
Alter course."

Hoshi reminded him that the doctor was sleeping. "Oh well," he said, "in
that case, do your best."


Dr. Kaife stirred to the sound of his phone. He resisted. He was
pleasantly exhausted from the day's activities. The phone rang again and
then stopped. Five minutes later, it rang again. Just twice. At that,
Kaife was awake.

He got out of bed and moved to his computer. He had an automated message
from his lab. There was a signal coming in on the device. He got dressed
and waited at his table with a glass of water. It was still too cold to go
out.

One hour before he felt he could leave, he called the major. He'd want to
know about this breakthrough. Then he called Kenu. They'd need him to try
and decipher any message that had come through.

Zhenah was waiting for him at the lab. He looked vicious. "This had
better be worth it."

"A message from the aliens should be," he responded. The facility seemed
eerie that morning. He was not used to being there when so few people were
about.

The lab itself was the exact opposite of the quiet corridors. Several
computers had come to life once the signal was received. The device itself
didn't move or display anything of note. But there was definitely something
coming in. Unfortunately, it wasn't in words but in long and short pulses
like the message in the desert. Kaife put a recording device next to it and
set it to record. That's when Kenu entered. His eyes widened at the door,
then narrowed. "Not that damn code," he complained.

Kaife motioned Zhenah and Kenu further into the lab where their
conversation wouldn't interfere with the recording. "It's not the same as
what they sent in the desert," he told them. "It's a response. We need to
try and understand what it means."

"Why now?" Zhenah asked. His impatience was obvious. "They've had months.
Why during Turn?"

"Wait," Kenu interrupted. "It just looped. Can I have paper and pen?"

Kaife pulled the requested items from his desk. Kenu used them to mark
horizontal lines for the longer pulses and vertical ones for the shorter
pulses. Kaife left him to it and pulled Zhenah aside. "Should we try to
reply?"

"What?" Zhenah focused hard on him. "Reply? Why would we want to do
that?"

"We could get an idea of where they are," Kaife replied. "It could be that
this message is very old, that it was sent when the aliens crashed but took
months to get here. That would mean they are very far away. Or they could
be close enough to send a message in real time. And that would mean they
are very close."

"And if they are close, is it because they were passing by here?" Zhenah
asked. "Or because someone called them?"

Kaife was glad to see Zhenah thinking more or less clearly. "Still, to do
so would be epic. We'd be trying to make contact with potentially hostile
aliens. If they are not close, we'd be confirming our existence. If they
are close, they'd know we have their people."

"And that could be bad." Zhenah scratched his chin. "Maybe they're not
hostile. The alien here doesn't seem hostile. Maybe we could scare them
off."

"How?" Kaife wasn't so sure Zhenah was thinking clearly after all. He was
making some unscientific leaps.

Zhenah ignored him. "But first we need to know why the call came now.
Find out what caused it. I will talk to the Lesser Winged who stayed to
care for the alien and the other subjects."


Archer had ordered a response be sent to the transmission. In ancient
Morse code as the caller had sent part of his message. He had an ulterior
motive that T'Pol could appreciate. It was a test to see if they could
transmit at all through the interference. With the help of a probe anchored
just below the interference band, they could. But there had been no reply.

T'Pol had been in her lab since she left the Bridge to analyze the data
from the probe more fully. The shuttlepod sent to investigate the origin of
the subspace message was missing, but she had now come to a hypothesis to
explain why. She'd called Trip down to share it.

T'Pol didn't bother looking up when Trip entered the lab. "Yes, I would
like your thoughts on a hypothesis I have been working on. I am attempting
to isolate the sensor data on the intermittent radiation burst recorded by
the probe."

"Mind if I take a look?" Trip was right behind her.

T'Pol stepped away to give him access. "I've isolated the frequency of the
wavelength." Trip squinted and shook his head slightly. T'Pol changed the
display to show what she theorized was the crash site. "I have increased
the sensor resolution," she explained as she zoomed in. "The shuttlepod
intersected with the radiation burst and trailed the radiation through the
atmosphere. It dissipated as the shuttle descended, but it can still be
seen faintly in this area, the projected landing site for the shuttlepod."

Trip frowned. "There's no shuttlepod."

"Not now," she replied. She changed the display again. "There is a higher
concentration of carbon in the soil at this location . . ." She pointed to
a depression in the ground. ". . . than in the area surrounding it. Except
in this direction." She pulled her finger from the highest concentration
backward along the radiation trail. "It ends here, seventy miles from a
native city in the south."

Trip turned to look at her. "Okay," he said. If she were reading his
expression correctly, he was reluctant to reach the conclusion on his own.

She offered him another piece of evidence. "The radiation trail grows
stronger exponentially as it radiates out from the highest concentrations of
carbon."

He turned back to the display. "But the carbon increases as you go toward
the depression." He paused a moment and then dropped his head between his
shoulders. "You're saying the shuttlepod crashed there."

"That is my hypothesis," she said. She knew he would not like to hear
that.

"But there's no debris." He pointed to the depression, where, in truth,
there was no visible evidence of a crash.

"There was," she corrected.

"Was?" He turned to look at her again. "There's another piece you aren't
showing me yet."

T'Pol changed the display back to the radiation burst. "I have seen this
before, though in smaller quantities." She picked up her scanner off the
counter. "Come with me."

She led him out of the lab and he followed without comment. She stopped in
front of Daniels' quarters and their security seal. She took a scan and
then handed the scanner to him. He grew very still but she could see he had
recognized it. "Time travel?"

"*That**," she said, "is my hypothesis. These are chronoton particles, for
lack of a better term. While the Vulcan Science Academy denies the
possibility, I have had to yield my own beliefs to that possibility. I have
been to your world in the past. The captain claims to have been to the
future. I have been using my free time to study this phenomenon."

Trip nodded and then stated her hypothesis completely. "You think the
shuttle crashed in the past," he said. "That's why there's no debris, but
there is an increase in carbon along the path of the crash, ending in the
depression." He was frowning. "How far in the past?"

T'Pol answered truthfully. "I have not yet determined that." They were
quiet a moment and she watched him. His frown deepened and his eyes
gleamed. He was beginning to grieve. It was premature. "We do not have
any evidence to assume that the shuttlepod's crew were killed in the crash."

"We don't have any evidence they survived either." He rubbed his hand
through his hair. "What does the radiation trail have to do with it all?
You made a point of its exponential increase as it goes away from the dep--"
He stopped for a breath. "--The crash site."

T'Pol understood his question. "The probe began its descent along the same
trajectory initially. At the point closest to the interference layer, the
particle density is highest. It's exponential decay rate does not suggest
that it simply dissipated as the shuttlepod descended. I hypothesize that
we can calculate the instant the shuttlepod crashed by the drop-rate in
particle density."

Trip took another breath. "Why?"

"Because, those particles closest to the interference layer are the closest
to the present."

His expression changed. "I need to hear that transmission," he said and he
started walking away.

T'Pol followed with her own question. "Why?" She was unsure of his sudden
change in topic.

"Because if my hypothesis is right," he replied, "we do have evidence that
they're alive."


Baezhu returned from his rounds with the animals to Samwyze's room only to
find Major Zhenah standing beside the bed. "Major?" he stammered. "I--I
didn't expect you."

Zhenah turned away from the comatose alien to look at him. "And I didn't
expect you. That dolt Hinath had this duty, did he not?"

Baezhu had to think fast. He really hadn't expected the major to have
noticed. "He did. I traded him."

"Why?"

"As you said," Baezhu replied, "he's a dolt. This machine has to be
monitored closely. A change in the chemical balance of the medications
could kill the alien or leave him permanently damaged. And then there are
the animals. Last Turn, seventeen didn't survive. Hinath's care."

Zhenah appeared to accept that. "So the alien has been asleep since Turn
began?"

"More than asleep," Baezhu found it easier when he could stick to some
version of truth. "He's been put into a medically-induced coma. It's
designed to allow his body to recuperate from surgery without any movement
to potentially reinjure him. We've been using this with animals for
decades. He can't wake up without the machine."

Zhenah turned to look at it. "The chemical balance."

Baezhu still wasn't sure why Zhenah was there and not out procreating. "I
wasn't expecting anyone back for more than a week," he said, hoping the
major would tell him why he had come. "It's kind of nice having someone to
talk to again."

"This may be the first time we've spoken," Zhenah responded, without, it
seemed, taking the hint. "It looks harmless," he remarked, looking down at
Samwyze. "But is it? What other technology was destroyed in its sky ship?
Maybe we should have just killed it out in the desert when we found it and
the female."

Baezhu didn't think so, but he was hesitant now to break Zhenah's reverie.

"What about cameras?" the major asked, suddenly changing subjects. "Are
they recording?"

"In here?" Baezhu asked in return. "He's in a coma. There's nothing to
record."

Zhenah spun around and headed for the door. "We'll see," he spat as he
bumped into Baezhu on his way out. Baezhu waited until the major's
footfalls faded before he let out a long sigh. That was close.


Trip had no more doubts. T'Pol, though, had to make it scientifically
certain. They compared a recording of Malcolm's voice to the recording of
the message. after half an hour cleaning the latter up even more, they had
enough of a match to draw the conclusion. Malcolm Reed had sent the
message.

"We must inform the captain," T'Pol stated.

Trip just nodded. He felt sick. Malcolm really didn't sound well and the
Denobulan he seemed to be speaking just didn't fit.

They'd crashed on that planet a year ago, but the message was less than
twenty-four hours old. What had Malcolm been through in that year?

T'Pol must have called the captain down because the lab door opened and
there he was.

"What have you got?" Archer asked as he walked over to them.

Trip let T'Pol do the talking. "We have determined that the voice on the
message is that of Lieutenant Reed," she said.

The captain shook his head. "He was on the Bridge when the call came in."

"We also have evidence that the shuttlepod intersected with chronoton
radiation--"

Archer held up a hand and interrupted, "Chronoton?"

"Time travel," Trip managed to say. Then he felt he could talk. "Same
radiation as we found in Daniels' quarters."

Archer found a stool and sat down. "He called from the future? Or the
past?"

T'Pol replied, "He called approximately eighteen hours ago. The shuttlepod
crashed approximately one year ago."

"Then he's alive!" Archer sat up. "And Hoshi! He tapped out Hoshi's name
in Morse."

"He tapped out 'Save Hoshi,'" Trip corrected, "and he was speaking in
Denobulan at the same time. That alone is weird but it means he was trying
to hide what he was saying. They're in trouble."

Archer was silent for a moment. Then he stood up. "I want to go get
them." He held up a hand to stop T'Pol who was about to interject. "But
the same thing could happen to the next shuttlepod we send down there. We
have to find a save way to do it."

Trip could do that. It was a problem, an engineering problem. "We need to
be able to get a shuttlepod past the chronoton radiation."

"We also need to determine the level of cultural contamination," T'Pol
said. "He speaks Denobulan," she explained, "to hide what he is saying.
There may be little contamination, in which case, we'll need to remove all
evidence of humans there. Or there may be too much to remove."

Archer just nodded. "Maybe we'll find out what's happened to them in this
year. What kind of help they'll need." He turned to go. "Get on that.
Use as many people as you need. And get the doctor to try and translate the
message. We're not going anywhere until the three people I sent down there
are back on this ship. It's got to be done fast, but this time, we have to
do it right."


Hoshi's guard changed. That had been happening this week. She'd heard
enough to know why. The mating season was upon them. And that happened
only every three years. She had to admit she was curious as to just how
they managed it, but her work and her sleeping arrangements didn't
facilitate any peeking. The females where she slept didn't seem at all
interested and that included the adults, not just the juveniles like Pipa.
The night guard in the barracks had changed, too. In fact, she'd even
gotten to see a third kind of native. It was more like a Komodo dragon than
any dinosaur she could think of. He walked on all four legs and flicked his
tongue repeatedly. He walked down the rows of females at night
consistently, whereas Gothmog and the others had generally stayed at the
front of the room unless something was needed.

The guards in the daytime though seemed to rotate in and out, day by day.
And they were all of the toothy T-Rex-with-long-arms type. Oddly, they were
the only ones that she generally saw out and about this winter. There were
two such females that went with her for the feeding duties. They didn't
seem to mind the cold as much as the others.

And it was cold. The wind was up and there had been an ice storm the night
before. The heat-lamps had gone out for about thirty minutes and this
morning, when she was led out, she found the area sparkling with ice. Every
blade of grass, every twig on every tree was encased in crystal. The ground
crunched when she walked. It was, in some ways, quite beautiful. But it
made her job of sidewalk clearing even harder. The shovel worked relatively
well against snow, but it had glanced off the hard ice. She though an inch
might have accumulated on the concrete. She had to slam the side of the
shovel down to try and crack it. Then her guard took her to a shed on the
far side of the building she was in front of. He opened a crate and took a
handful of white crystals and threw it on the concrete just in front of the
door.

Salt, she realized. She didn't think carrying it handful by handful was
the most efficient method, but she didn't think it was in her interest to
let them realize her intelligence. They were, after all, torturing the one
they thought smarter. The one who didn't understand their languages.

Besides, doing it this way drew out the work and passed the hours. They
were long hours without Malcolm.


A shuttlepod could work. It could safely get past that pulse. They came
like waves on an ocean. They came every "three point two minutes on
average," as T'Pol reported. But it was the "on average" that worried Trip.
That meant that sometimes they came quicker and sometimes they took longer.

Even if he could get a shuttlepod through the interference layer and
between two pulses, there was still the chance of being blown out of the sky
by less-than-friendly natives. But there was one other possibility. It
couldn't hold as many people comfortably, but it could drop down through the
pulses more quickly. It was more maneuverable and had one other very
important feature. It could cloak. The Suliban cell ship would be
invisible until the door opened and invisible when it closed again.

One thing was necessary to make this as safe as possible. The cell ship
had to be able to communicate with *Enterprise** through the radiation and
interference. He and T'Pol would have that worked out soon. She was
overseeing the project to determine cultural contamination. That would
require picking up broadcasts and hacking into computer systems on the
planet. He'd be able to configure the cell ship to communicate with
*Enterprise** using the method she devised.

So, Trip knew he had the theory. Now he had to test it out. The cell ship
needed a going over and he needed a good pilot to fly it.


The pulses stopped. Kenu and Kaife looked up from their desks when the
noise stopped. The device was now silent. "They must have finally given
up," Kenu said. "Maybe they'll believe their people are dead and leave us
alone."

"Maybe they'll think they're dead and come destroy us all," Kaife offered.
"Anything on the code yet?"

Kenu bobbed his head. "I've been able to isolate about twenty letters and
I think I've got a handle on word and sentence breaks. But which pulse
letters correspond to the letters we know on the patches? I don't know how
we'll ever figure that out."

"We make the alien tell us," Kaife replied.

The door opened and Major Zhenah entered. "Examine that device.
Fingerprints, any evidence it was used to send a message."

"You think someone got in here and used it?" Kaife asked him. "How would
he know how when we don't and we've been studying it for months."

"The alien would know how."

Kenu shook his head. "He can't get in here. He can't even walk. Even if
he wasn't in a coma, you broke his leg."

Zhenah glared at him, exposing his teeth. "Examine it closely!" He turned
and left.


The door to Archer's Ready Room chimed. Archer sighed. He didn't feel
ready to stop sulking. "Come in."

Carstairs entered. "I thought you'd like to know, sir, that the computer
is beginning to translate some of the broadcasts. The country where the
shuttlepod went down is called Zheiren. The broadcasts are from state-run
media so we have some inkling of their political structure. We should have
a working lexicon in a few hours."

That was promising. "Any news of aliens?"

"Nothing yet, sir," Carstairs replied. "It's definitely not a unified
world, though. There are dozens of countries. Zheiren appears to be one of
the top two and, judging by the amount of propaganda, I'd say they don't get
along well with the other big one, Buftanis. We do have visuals of the
natives if you'd like to see them."

Archer had to admit he was curious. He nodded. Carstairs held out a PADD.
Archer was taken aback. Lizards. They were lizards.

"That's just one species, sir. There's a news broadcast about the change
in leadership in Zheiren. Seems in revolves around three species. May I?"

Archer handed him back the PADD. Carstairs pressed a few controls and the
image changed. He handed it back. "These are the Wingeds. They are
generally scientists and doctors. They just relinquished the leadership of
their ruling council to the Raptors. If you scroll over, you'll see a
headshot of the new Head Councilman, Grand Raptor Usa."

Archer did not much like that last image. There were a long of long, sharp
teeth. "And what is his specialty?" he asked.

"The Raptors are the military. There's also something else making big
news. They call it Turn."

Archer handed back the PADD again. "The change in leadership?"

Carstairs shook his head. "No, sir, their tri-annual mating season."

Archer's eye-brows shot up. "Tri-annual?" Once every three years seemed
rather depressing. But then Vulcans were once every seven.

"That's why it's big news, sir."

Archer nodded. "This might be a good time to get our people back. While
the natives are distracted. See if you can find out how long it lasts.
Keep me posted."

Carstairs tipped his head and left. The door swished shut behind him and
Archer was alone again. What chance did three humans have against lizards,
reptile birds, and dinosaurs? That's what they had looked like. Raptors.
Velociraptor, Oviraptor. Long arms ending in sharp claws and a
nasty-looking slashing toe on each foot. Yet these were sentient beings.
The question remained: Were they hostile?

Archer sighed again. There was a knot in his stomach that wouldn't go
away. He realized now that they should have done this before. If they'd
taken the time to research the place, the crash may never have happened.
The message would never have happened. Or it would but they'd take some
time to go down safely. But if that had happened there would be no message.
It was like being stuck in a loop. If they'd realized the voice was
Malcolm's and ignored it because Malcolm was on the Bridge, would they all
be safe now or would some instance of Malcolm be doomed for the rest of his
life on that planet?


Zhenah had called each of the scientists in to interview them one by one.
He knew this wasn't the best time. He wasn't at his sharpest with the last
days of Turn still to go. He wanted to be with the females. His body
needed to be. But there was a threat now where there hadn't been before.
And Turn did give him some advantages then. He was even more intimidating.

But then the Wingeds were having the same needs and the same
aggressiveness. They were less easily intimidated. Burha had no idea that
one who had stayed was not the dim-witted Hinath. Geeben was even less
aware. With the alien in a coma, he'd left early and wasn't even at the
facility the day before Turn. Bishtae was shocked that Baezhu had stayed.
They clearly didn't know.

Hinath was experiencing the same hormones, but he was much easier to
intimidate.

"Did you arrange with the other Lesser to rotate shifts at the facility?"
Zhenah asked.

"Did something happen to the alien?" Hinath asked in return. He wouldn't
look Zhenah in the eye. He was hiding something.

"You did not earn the change to mate. So you were to remain here," Zhenah
reminded him. "So why were you not here?"

"T-time off?" Hinath stammered. "Am I in trouble?"

Zhenah leaned down to put his face right in front Hinath's beak. He
growled. "Only if you don't tell me the truth."

Hinath looked ready to cry. "I just kind of had to. When he offered. It
was Turn. I may not have earned it but I still felt it. I couldn't control
myself."

Zhenah stood up straighter. This was easier than he thought. It was a bit
disappointing. "Who offered?"

"Baezhu," the Lesser admitted. "He gave me his two chips."

"Why?"

"I don't know." Hinath stopped breathing for a moment. "This isn't about
the chips?"

"I'll forget about it if you tell me what Baezhu got out of this."

Hinath shook his head side to side. "He didn't say. Or at least I didn't
hear. When he offered the chips, I couldn't think but to say yes." He
thought for a moment. "He didn't want me to tell."

Zhenah let the Lesser go. He wasn't worth any more than he'd already
given. He told him to take Baezhu's place and send Baezhu to him. "And
tell Bishtae to wake the alien."

Zhenah was boiling with rage by the time Baezhu entered. He fought to
control it. He still only had part of the puzzle.

"Why did you lie to me?" he snarled.

"I don't recall lying--"

"You traded with Hinath!" Zhenah yelled.

Baezhu's eyes widened. In guilt or because the yelling startled him?
"I--I'd have other chances. Next Turn. Hinath probably wouldn't."

"So you would have him create inferior offspring for Zheiren?" Zhenah
stepped closer. Baezhu was smarter than Hinath. Almost as smart as a
Greater Winged sometimes. "You had a duty."

Baezhu's shoulder dropped. "I hadn't thought of it that way."

Zhenah leaned in on him. "So was this just about Hinath having the chance
to mate or was it that you wanted to be with the alien? Maybe you satisfied
your urges while you watched him sleep." He sneered.

Baezhu recoiled. "No! I would never. I just--"

"You are fond of him." Zhenah got in his face. "Sympathetic."

Baezhu stammered for a reply. Zhenah didn't give him time. "Stay here!"
he ordered and left. He had an idea.


They met in the Ready Room that night. It had been forty-eight hours since
the shuttlepod disappeared. Carstairs looked a bit sick. Trip had a
resolute expression. T'Pol, of course, was impassive.

Archer turned first to Trip. "You think we can get them safely?"

Trip nodded. "Yes, sir. The cell ship can drop between the chronoton
pulses and cloak as it approaches the planet. They won't even know we're
there."

Archer turned to T'Pol then. He wasn't done with Trip, but he knew it
would be more complicated than just picking u8p his people. "Have you found
them?"

"We have found one of them," she replied. "A male, presumably Lt. Reed.
Cultural contamination is almost nil. An object was seen in the sky
approximately one year ago. Reports from a research facility near the
desert where the shuttlepod went down began to mention a pair of aliens two
days later. I have hacked into the computer system there. Using
Carstairs's translations, I wrote an algorithm to find every file pertaining
to him."

"Ensign Sato was one of the pair," Carstairs interrupted. "Sorry, sirs."

Archer nodded. "Go on."

"She was there in the beginning. She disappears about seventy days in."

"Disappears?" Archer didn't like the sound of that. "But he said to save
her. In Morse. He said to save her. He has to know she can be saved."

T'Pol replied. "We did find one transmission channel to a third party that
begins at that time. We have not yet determined the identity of the third
party as the transmission channel is highly encrypted. However, it was
active within the last thirty days. I also found the first reports of a
communications device of alien origin that began soon after the female alien
disappears. It is likely Ensign Sato was traded to the third party in
exchange for the device."

Damn. Archer hadn't thought they'd be separated. But then, they weren't
the only crewmembers on the shuttlepod. "What about Moody?"

Carstairs handed him a PADD. Archer found there a translated document
detailing DNA testing of a bone fragment found at a crash site. There was
an image of the fragment. It was charred.

The DNA matches Lt. Moody's DNA on record," T'Pol stated. "It would appear
he did not survive the crash."

The report seemed very scientific. It was meticulous. "What kind of
research do they do at the facility?" He looked at Carstairs's pained face.
But T'Pol answered.

"Biological."


Baezhu tried to remain calm. It was hard. Major Zhenah wouldn't even be
here unless something had gone wrong. He knew about the switch with Hinath
but it was definitely more about Samwyze or he wouldn't have kept him in
this cell alone for so long. What had tipped him off? There were no active
cameras during Turn so it wasn't that. He was sure he'd gotten past the
guards when he retrieved and replaced the communications device. How could
Zhenah know?

The door opened and, for a moment, Baezhu could hear Dr. Bishtae protesting
loudly in the corridor. But it was just for a second. Zhenah entered,
dragging a gasping Samwyze by the neck. Once he cleared the doorway, he
threw Samwyze forward so hard that he slid across the floor and slammed into
the toilet in the corner. Now he knew why Bishtae was protesting. Samwyze
was in no condition to be out of bed.

"You *will** tell me," Zhenah said very deliberately, "why you gave the
alien the communications device you shouldn't have even known about!"

He did now. "How?" The question was out before he knew he'd asked it.

"Your fingerprints on the outside," Zhenah snapped. "The alien's on the
inside. He used it. Who did he call? What did he say?"

Baezhu tried to think up a plausible lie e3ven as he wondered how Zhenah
had come to suspect the device at all. Had he heard Kenu talk that day?

"I will *eat** him!" Zhenah growled, stomping closer to Samwyze who lay
crumpled on the floor. "Piece by piece."

He was dead. It struck Baezhu suddenly. He had to have known this
wouldn't end well. But he didn't want Samwyze killed on his account. He
felt a sudden calm wash over him. He was dead. He didn't matter any more.
He'd done what he set out to do. "I wanted him to call for help, for
rescue, so he could escape from us."

Zhenah spun around. "Did he?"

Baezhu sighed. "I don't know. I didn't understand a word of it." Across
the room, Samwyze was struggling into a seated position. It was apparent he
was not fully recovered from the anesthesia.

Zhenah got into his face. His breath smelled of fish and rodents. "Was it
recorded?"

Baezhu looked up at him. "Of course not."

Zhenah struck him hard across the face and Baezhu felt a sting and hot
liquid on his face. Zhenah's claws on that hand were red. "You're a
traitor!" Zhenah screamed.

There was, surprisingly, no fear. Baezhu was angry. "I've committed no
crime against Zheiren," he argued. "I acted to help a sentient being."

"You endangered Zheiren needlessly!" Zhenah snapped back. "He may have
called his people to attack!"

Baezhu stood up straighter. "If they do, it will be because of the way he
was treated here. *You** endangered Zheiren."

Zhenah snarled and grabbed him by the throat. Baezhu didn't fight him.
What good would it do Samwyze, or himself? He'd never walk out of the
facility a free man. Better to die here than at Yekina.

His lungs fought for breath, and he wondered if that was how Samwyze had
felt under the water. "You're weak," Zhenah said. His foot came up and
Baezhu felt his abdomen open up. A searing wave of pain filled his
consciousness, but he had no breath with which to scream. "A Lesser Winged
should have known his place."

Zhenah released him and he fell. He still couldn't find a breath. He
caught Samwyze's pained expression and looked down to see his own intestines
spilling from his abdomen. He looked up at Zhenah who took one more swipe
at Baezhu's neck. His claws dug in and Baezhu's blood pumped out. He
turned his blurring eyesight to Samwyze. "I hope they come soon" he
mouthed. Then everything went dark and the pain ceased.


Burha pounded on the door. "He's killed Baezhu!"

Bishtae had been bringing the master key to unlock the door as Zhenah had
taken the door key with him. But he stopped in his tracks. "Why Baezhu
wouldn't--"

"The key!" Burha yelled. "He's going after the alien."

Bishtae handed him the key and looked through the door's window. Zhenah
had the alien pinned to the wall several feet off the floor.

The lock clicked and Burha pulled the door open. "Major!"

Bishtae followed him in. Zhenah was startled by their entry. He dropped
the alien, who crumpled to the floor. "Get out!" he growled.

"You do not have authority to kill the alien. And that's what you're
doing!" Burha reminded him.

"You had no authority to kill Baezhu," Bishtae added, turning back toward
the door where the lifeless body of his assistant lay with his intestines
spilling out. There was blood everywhere.

"He was a traitor!" Zhenah argued. He took a menacing step toward the
scientists.

"The Council decides capital sentences in cases of treason," Burha reminded
him. "Have you contacted the Council?"

Zhenah snarled and pushed past them into the corridor. "They stay where
they are," he ordered. Bishtae was taken aback by the order. 'They.'
Baezhu and the alien. He meant they couldn't remove the body, and they
couldn't take the alien back to an examination room.

He had to sit down. This was all happening too fast. He leaned on the
bed. The alien, obviously frightened, scrambled away from him as well as he
could.

Baezhu a traitor. He never would have thought it. But, then, he hadn't
thought it of Enesh either. Baezhu was brilliant, for a Lesser Winged,
generous and thoughtful.

"Why was he even here?" Burha asked quietly. He was looking down at Baezhu.

"The device." Both scientists looked up to see Kenu in the doorway. "The
one I wasn't supposed to have mentioned. He took it and let the alien use
it. He contacted his people. At least we assume it was his people. They
replied." All this was said very somberly, as ground-breaking as it was.
Bishtae didn't feel like breaking any ground so it was just as well.

"What are you saying?" Burha asked.

Kenu shrugged. "Code, long pulses and short ones. They stand for letters
in a language I can't read." He took a deep breath. "I never wanted this."

They were all quiet for few minutes. Bishtae thought back to Baezhu's
questions. His connection with the alien, the quietness he'd fallen into as
time went on and the alien's treatment grew harsher. He should have seen
that Baezhu was too close to the alien. He should have checked that he had
left the facility. How had Baezhu overcome his need to mate and stayed with
the all those days? Hinath would have been thoroughly frustrated, but he
would never have thought to help the alien. Baezhu was smarter and more
sensitive. Now, he had committed treason and he was dead.

Burha stood up straighter. "We need to leave. We must not give the
Raptors any reason to think we sympathized with a traitor. They'll have us
staked properly."

Bishtae knew he was right. He gave one last look to his young protégé.
And though his true name one last time. Baezhu. From now on, he would be
called The Traitor.


Malcolm waited for the three orcs to leave before he tried calling out to
Hoshi.

"Malcolm! I didn't expect--"

*He's dead.** He couldn't take his eyes off the gory scene by the door.
*T-Rex killed him.**

Hoshi's excitement was gone. "Who's dead, Malcolm?"

*Smeagol,** he replied, then thought he deserved his real name.
*Bayzhoo.**

"I'm sorry. What about you, Malcolm? Did he hurt you?"

Malcolm's leg was beginning to throb and his chest ached. Small splotches
of blood appeared on the shoulders of his makeshift gown where T-Rex had
grabbed him before pushing him hard into the wall. *Not much. Not yet.**

"Not yet?" She sounded worried.

*They left the body here. That can't bode well, Hoshi.** He took a shaky
breath. *I'm scared, Hoshi. But I'm also a bit relieved. I'm fairly sure
I'll have my way out very soon. I've wanted that. I just don't want it to
hurt as much as I expect it will. And I never want to leave you behind.**

Hoshi took a minute to answer. "There's nothing for me here except you.
If you go, I go. I think I have a way. And I think it will hurt, too, for
awhile anyway."

*Use the cold,** he told her. *It's supposed to be a peaceful way to
die.**

TBC