by Various
“Move,” a stern voice said from behind her before a firm hand between her shoulder blades propelled Hoshi farther into the room, her feet shuffling as they fought the short length of chain connecting the manacles around her ankles. The chamber’s cool, damp air chilled her exposed skin and she even felt it already beginning to seep through the material of the gray, oversized one-piece garment she had been given to wear upon her arrival.
Situated near the far wall of the room was a long, narrow table, which to Hoshi looked to have been fashioned from the bulkhead of a large cargo container. T’Pau sat behind the table, a Tellarite male occupying the chair to her right while a male Andorian and an Orion female sat to her left. While none of the quartet appeared genial or welcoming, there was no mistaking the angry, determined set to T’Pau’s jaw.
“Greetings, Your Majesty,” the Vulcan said, making no attempt to disguise the derision lacing her words. “I realize that the accommodations we’ve been able to provide while you’ve been our guest are somewhat less extravagant than the imperial palace on Earth, but I trust you are reasonably comfortable.”
“I’m adapting,” Hoshi replied, drawing herself to her full height and doing her best to put out of her mind her disheveled, servile appearance. Casting a glance at the Andorian seated at the table, she said, “How’s your friend?”
Bristling at the question and all it suggested, the Andorian replied, “He is recovering in our infirmary. The damage to his pride was worse than the injury you inflicted to his body, but it is safe to say that he will not attempt to…ingratiate himself to you with such fervor in the future.”
“I would have thought you appreciative of such overtures,” the Orion woman said, leering at Hoshi, “given your choice…”
“That is enough, Navaar,” T’Pau snapped, and this time there was no mistaking the annoyance in her tone.
No, the Empress decided, there’s something else going on here.
It was clear that the rebel leader was angry and was doing her level best to keep that rising ire under some semblance of control. What possible reason could the learned Vulcan have for struggling for command of her own emotions?
“Why am I here?” Hoshi asked. “If you were going to kill me, you’d have done it by now.”
T’Pau replied, “Rest assured that your death is inevitable. It is only a question of how that event best serves our ends.” Rising from her seat, she made her way around the makeshift table. “Your husband has been quite busy these past weeks,” she said as she moved to stand before Hoshi. “Claiming to the public that he is acting on your orders, he’s dispatched your Starfleet to devastating effect, meting out revenge for our attack on Earth. Several of our bases have been destroyed, and rebellion sympathizers throughout the quadrant have suffered, as well.”
“You’ll forgive me if I don’t shed any tears,” Hoshi said, her eyes locking with the Vulcan’s. She wondered if the doubt she heard in her own words was as noticeable to T’Pau, for the Empress found herself unable to understand Shran’s motives in the face of what she now was hearing.
“Among his targets of choice was the monastery on P’Jem,” the Andorian said from where he sat at the table. “It was obliterated. Hundreds of Vulcans were killed, absolutely none of whom had ever so much as raised a finger in support of the rebellion.”
Despite her bluster, Hoshi blinked in disbelief at this new revelation. “That’s impossible.” From what she had read of Vulcan history, the monastery had stood unmolested for thousands of years. Even during the war between Andoria and Vulcan, both sides had agreed that religious sites such as P’Jem or the Andorian worship temples on Syrinx were to be declared off-limits. To the best of her knowledge, it was an agreement that had been respected for generations. Even the Empire had agreed to leave such sanctuaries undisturbed, though they of course had been subjected to scrutiny and inspection since.
“According to Shran,” T’Pau said, “you put forth the accusation that the caretakers on P’Jem were harboring rebel leaders. Even if that were true, which it was not, there has been much public outcry over the massacre, both within and beyond the Empire’s borders.”
Still struggling to absorb what she had been told as well as trying to comprehend the long-term consequences of the unprecedented actions Shran was carrying out in her name, Hoshi felt her anger and renewed sense of betrayal threatening to boil over once again. Forcing her ire back down, she frowned as she regarded T’Pau. “Why are you telling me this?”
“She’s a fool,” said the Tellarite from where he still sat behind T’Pau, “just like the rest of the humans. She has no idea how deep Shran’s treachery runs.”
Breaking her gaze from T’Pau, Hoshi regarded the burly rebel. “I know enough,” she snapped. “He’s been working with you from the beginning. He directed Defiant to the Devolin system, and he informed you that Earth was vulnerable so you could attack.” Despite the horrific wounds inflicted upon her planet, the Empress could not resist adding, “It is a testament to the inadequacy of your rebellion, that it can succeed only through such underhanded methods.”
“Under other circumstances,” T’Pau said, her right eyebrow rising as she leveled a knowing, accusatory stare, “the irony of your lecturing us on this particular topic would be amusing.” Folding her arms across her chest, she began to pace in a circle around Hoshi. “Regardless, Gral is correct. Shran’s duplicity extends far beyond what he has done to you. He’s taken it upon himself to further betray those who helped him rise to power. He is continuing the objective you set out for the Empire and working to stamp out the rebellion, but not for anything as noble as freeing the downtrodden from the grip of oppression.”
Hoshi released an audible sigh. Was it genetically impossible for Vulcans to get to whatever point they labored to make under the weight of such vocabulary?
“Shran never had any intention of helping us,” T’Pau continued. “It was always his goal to seize the throne for himself and to use your Starfleet to do what Andoria could not accomplish on its own: conquer Vulcan and its allies. Thanks to your negligence, he apparently was able to succeed with a minimum of effort.”
“If what you’re telling me is true,” Hoshi said, doing her best to contain her mounting anger, “then it looks like I’m in good company.” Despite her acerbic comment, she could not help but agree with T’Pau’s assessment. That Shran had gone so far as to use her own deceptions against her only added to her festering rage. Even as she stood before these rebels in a cave buried beneath the surface of some unknown world, the seeds of her husband’s latest campaign were being sown. The fetus that had been conceived from her egg—taken from her via a surgical procedure performed by Arik Soong—had been fertilized with Shran’s eager assistance. The result would be a child born of two races, a representation of Earth and Andoria’s binding union and their joint destiny to rule the galaxy.
Traitorous bastard, she fumed, as outraged with herself as she was with the general. The violation she had suffered in order to set that aspect of Shran’s scheme into motion was but one more item on the list of crimes for which she hoped he would answer. If the fates were kind, one day she would see the expression on his face and hear him utter his final words as her own dagger pierced his heart.
At the moment, however, that did not appear likely.
T’Pau’s pacing brought her around to face Hoshi once more. “Shran’s audacity will be his undoing, Your Majesty,” she said, though this time there was no hint of her earlier disrespect. “Never before has any Terran Emperor ordered the slaughter of innocents on such a scale, even with provocation. While humans are renowned for their brutality toward those they conquer, an apparent unwillingness to murder indiscriminately is one of the few commendable traits your species still possesses.”
“Shran has crossed a line from which there may be no retreat,” the Andorian added. “History—ours and yours—has shown that whenever a ruling power commits such heinous acts, they are but the first of many
steps along the path leading to their eventual downfall.”
“Trev speaks wisely,” T’Pau said, “and we have an opportunity here. People throughout the Empire have begun to question their new ruler. How fortunate for us that we have you in custody, where you can now stand trial for the Empire’s crimes against those it has terrorized for generations.”
Hoshi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “You can’t be serious.”
“Vulcans are always serious,” T’Pau replied, now standing close enough that Hoshi briefly considered an attempt to use the chain binding her wrists to choke the rebel leader. She dismissed the thought just as quickly. Even if T’Pau were unable to counter her attack, the two Vulcan guards who still flanked Hoshi would overpower her with even less effort than it had taken to bring her here.
“A tribunal representing the worlds crushed beneath the Empire’s heel will hear your case and pass judgment upon you,” Navaar said, rising from her chair. “It should prove most entertaining.”
Leaning closer, T’Pau’s eyes narrowed as she regarded Hoshi. “It is our hope that your trial and subsequent execution, broadcast throughout the Empire, will provide a much-needed boost to the rebellion’s flagging morale. To use one of your human idioms, we will cut off the snake’s head, leaving the body to wither and die.”
She nodded to the guards, who ushered Hoshi without ceremony from the command post. Powerless to do anything except stumble and stagger in the custody of her escorts, the deposed Empress once again felt the stifling press of the narrow, dark passages leading deeper into the earth and to her detention cell, though this time the sensation echoed the oppressive grip of defeat that seemed now to be closing around her.
“Your accommodations appear adequate, if somewhat lacking.”
Hoshi opened her eyes at the sound of the familiar voice and stared for a moment at the stone wall forming the rear of her holding cell. An abrasive woolen blanket provided the only barrier between her and the wall-mounted metal platform serving as her bed, and she felt the twinge of muscle ache as she rolled over to face the bars separating her from her visitor.
“Vulcan adequacy never did much for me,” she said, swinging her legs off the so-called bed and planting her feet on the cell’s cold, dusty floor.
Expressionless, T’Pol turned her gaze to the cell’s far wall, now stained with a fresh spatter that dripped in thick brown streaks to a puddle on the floor next to a battered metal bowl. “However, your apparent actions will not help meet your nutritional needs.”
“Spare me your spa’ash plomeek broth,” Hoshi snapped, hoping her choice of a Vulcan slur might needle her former shipmate even if only the slightest bit. “Or whatever else you put in that bowl.”
“Drugging or poisoning someone already in secure custody is not lo—”
Hoshi rolled her eyes in disgust and held her palm out toward the Vulcan. “Spare me that, too,” she said. Releasing a tired sigh, she shook her head. “You’re wasting your time, you know. All of you.”
T’Pol replied, “It is you who requested my presence. If anyone is wasting time, it is you.”
“I’d almost forgotten what an insufferable pain in the ass you can be,” Hoshi said, rising from the cot as she glared at the other woman. It was her first time seeing the Vulcan since their unexpected meeting aboard her yacht. Prior to that, the Empress’s last memory of T’Pol was of her being thrown into Defiant’s brig, months earlier. She had escaped, doubtless with assistance, though the traitors responsible for that action were never found.
“You betrayed me,” Hoshi said.
T’Pol shook her head. “Incorrect, given that I never pledged loyalty to you.”
“Damn your semantics,” the Empress countered, glaring at her rival. “You betrayed the Empire.”
Pausing, T’Pol nodded after a moment. “Possibly.”
Hoshi offered a wan smile. “What’s more, you betrayed your own people, though you didn’t know it at the time. You’re only aiding in the slaughter now. It’s a pity you can’t see that. As I said, you’re wasting your time. The longer you cower in the shadows, the more time you’re giving Shran to push his strategy. You’ve already seen what he’s done. Imagine what he’ll be able to do in six months once he’s had the chance to replicate Defiant’s technology.”
“Such attacks are to be expected,” T’Pol countered. “We will be prepared for them. I will remind you that the Defiant is only a single vessel, and its weaknesses are not unknown.”
“That’s right,” Hoshi said, gritting her teeth in realization as she reached forward to grip one of the bars of her cell door in each hand. “More of your treachery at work.” The Empress herself had caught T’Pol downloading Defiant’s schematics, the very treason for which she had been imprisoned. Had he not met an untimely end in his own right, Jonathan Archer might well have executed her for her crimes. “I’m guessing you managed to obtain another copy of the schematics before you escaped?” When T’Pol did not answer, Hoshi affected what she hoped appeared as a disinterested shrug. “Not that it matters. As we speak, Shran is replicating Defiant’s technology. Soon, he’ll have a fleet of warships, all with weapons far more powerful than anything Starfleet or the rebels have.”
T’Pol said nothing in immediate reply, her expression telling Hoshi that the Vulcan was mulling over what she had heard. “You will understand if I do not find you the most credible source of information in this regard.”
“You don’t have to believe me,” Hoshi said, clutching the bars even tighter now. “What does your logic tell you about how this will play out? What are the rebellion’s real chances against the Empire?”
Offering a conciliatory nod, T’Pol replied, “There is a greater probability of the Empire’s eventual success in this conflict.”
“And what do you think Shran will do the minute he knows he’s won?” Hoshi asked. “With every political and military resource he’ll control, what do you think he’ll do first? He’ll make sure that no one can rise up to challenge the Empire ever again. He’ll grind Vulcan under his boot with such force that your past conflicts will look like a playground shoving match.”
T’Pol remained silent.
“Let me guess,” Hoshi said after a moment. “Vulcans don’t have playgrounds.”
Exhaling audibly at the remark, T’Pol clasped her hands behind her back. “Am I to assume that, given your certainty of the war’s outcome, you summoned me merely to gloat?”
Hoshi grunted in mounting irritation. “I called you here to offer an alternative,” she said. “An opportunity.”
That finally got a reaction out of the heretofore stoic Vulcan. Her right eyebrow arched, a sure indicator of her piqued interest. “Elaborate.”
“There’s been too much death and destruction because of the rebellion,” Hoshi said, “but the Empire itself is as much to blame for that. I want it to end. As for Vulcan, your people have enjoyed a measure of autonomy that others have not. That…latitude…could be expanded. I’ve come to understand that if the Empire is to survive, it will need powerful allies. Vulcan could be one such ally.”
“Why should I believe your offer is genuine?” T’Pol asked. “You have lied and schemed to attain the throne, and you are about to stand trial for your crimes against entire worlds. It is logical to presume that you would say or offer anything which might facilitate your freedom.”
Shaking the bars in frustration, Hoshi stepped away from the door. “You’ve seen the Defiant’s historical database, the real one. You know that in the other universe, Earth and Vulcan formed an alliance that lasted decades and was the basis for an interstellar coalition consisting of numerous worlds. They found a way to work together, T’Pol, despite their obvious differences. We can do that here.” Captain Forrest had, years ago during one of their frequent trysts, mentioned that he often had wondered how the Empire might have expanded its sphere of influence if it had chosen to ally with the Vulcans rather than conquer them.
“I see the doubt i
n your eyes, T’Pol, even through that mask you wear to hide your emotions. I can accept that.” Turning from the door, Hoshi moved to her bunk. “Humans have an old saying that it’s better to deal with the devil you know than the devil you don’t.” Taking a seat atop the bed’s dirty blanket, she said. “Consider the alternatives: unending servitude or perhaps genocide at the hands of Shran and Andoria, or a future under my benevolent rule.”
For a brief moment, the Empress saw T’Pol’s features soften as she considered what she was hearing. Were her words making an impression?
“You can play a role, T’Pol,” she pressed, realizing as she spoke that her voice had lowered and that her body language had taken on a more seductive posture as though of its own volition. “Imagine guiding the future of your people, sitting at my right hand as we chart our course…together.”
If she was enamored with the proposal, T’Pol maintained her composure so as not to show it. “Why have you not shared this proposal of yours with T’Pau?”
“She’s been fighting the war too long,” Hoshi replied. “She’d never trust me, and even if she did, I wouldn’t trust her. You and I don’t have to like each other in order to lead our people, but at least you’re the devil I know.”
Hoshi watched as T’Pol stood silent, her gaze fixed and her features betraying nothing. What was she thinking?
“You don’t believe me, do you?” Hoshi asked after a moment.
Rather than reply, T’Pol stepped away from the bars, her eyes narrowing as she moved to leave.
Hoshi pushed herself from the bunk until she once again was gripping the cell bars. “I’m the only hope your people have!”
Pausing at the entrance to the passageway leading from the holding cell, the Vulcan turned to look over her shoulder. “I find that…unlikely, Your Majesty.” She held her gaze a moment, as though hesitating over her decision, before disappearing into the subterranean corridor.