Trip and Malcolm lay in their bed, facing each other. Their lifemate necklaces were out from under their shirts. The fingers of Malcolm's right hand were twined with the fingers of Trip's left, and their heads were lying in the curves of their free arms. Both men had their eyes closed.To anyone glancing in, it might have looked as if they were merely asleep, napping in between repair shifts. However, a closer look would show that they were both breathing in the same rhythm, and a medical scanner would reveal their hearts beating as one.
They were deep in an Il'endi meditation ritual called st'aslyn. It was only performed between those who were bondmates and lifemates, like the two men who performed it now. Jo'eli and Ri'vran had taught it to them not long after their marriage, encouraging them to strengthen their bond. Through the telepathic link of the kt'alini lifeform, they took themselves out of their own bodies and into a shared mental world. This true mind joining would strengthen the telepathic bond once they emerged from the meditation.
On the shared mental plane, the two men were supposed to be back in their living cave on Il'endi. Instead they found themselves in an unfamiliar room on what was apparently a space ship, judging by the streaking stars outside the porthole.
//Where are we?//
Malcolm shook his head, unable to answer Trip's question. He slowly turned around, taking in the room. It appeared to be some form of crew quarters.
//This is like no ship I've ever been on,// Trip was musing. //The st'aslyn usually just takes us to our cave.//
//Trip.// Malcolm's whisper cut into the other man's thoughts. //Look.//
Trip turned to see, and gave a soft gasp. Curled up on the room's bed was their missing son, Chancel. There were tear tracks on his face and he was holding onto the pillow as if it were a lifeline.
Malcolm approached the bed and sat down on the edge. "Chancel," he said softly, reaching out to stroke a hand through the child's dark hair. Chancel sighed in his sleep, moving closer to his father, but he didn't wake up.
//The lines,// Trip said suddenly. //Morganian family lines allow Morganians to feel the mood of their parents or children. What if they reacted with the kt'alini and 'brought' us here through the lines?// He sat down on the bed, rubbing a hand up and down Chancel's arm.
//It's possible. We don't know what else the lines are capable of. We never really thought to ask.// Malcolm kept stroking his son's hair. //I'm grateful to whatever did bring us here, though. I was worried about how they were treating him.//
Trip nodded, the memories of his and Malcolm's nightmares fresh in his mind. //It's good to know they're taking care of him. Means I won't rip Kryalchek's throat out on sight. I'll wait a few minutes.//
//Good, you can take Chancel out of the room while I rip the man's heart out.//
Trip smiled. His free hand reached out to stroke Malcolm's cheek. //My warrior husband.//
Before Malcolm could reply, Chancel shifted on the bed and opened his eyes. "Daddy? Airith?"
"We're right here, Chancel," Malcolm said quickly, unsure if the child could hear them. Trip squeezed the arm he was still holding.
"Kryalchek wants to take your lines," Chancel whispered.
"We won't let him do that, Chancel-myeth," Trip reassured him.
"He can't have them," Malcolm declared. "You freely gave them to us, and that is something I won't let anyone take away."
Chancel smiled sleepily. "I knew you wouldn't let him. I knew you'd come get me."
"We will come get you, son. We just need you to be strong until we do, all right?" Malcolm's voice was thick with emotion. His fear for Chancel was palpable through his bond with Trip.
"I will, Airith." He yawned. "Love you Daddy, Airith."
Trip leaned down and gently placed a kiss on Chancel's forehead, where his stripe should have been. "We love you too, son."
Chancel slipped back into sleep, but Malcolm and Trip stayed a while, watching him. It was Malcolm who finally stirred, leaning down to lightly press his lips to his son's forehead.
//We should get back.//
Trip nodded in agreement. //I wish we could take him with us. I hate to leave him,// he thought quietly.
Malcolm smiled. //I know, love.// He stood, reaching for Trip's hand, pulling his husband close when Trip stood. //We'll get him back, and take our family back to Earth. The Morganians won't be able to take them from us on our homeworld.// Malcolm grinned. //Not with our families being as tenacious as British bulldogs.//
//Speak for your own family, darlin'. Mine are as stubborn as mules.//
//And we're both.// Malcolm tried to smile, but it wasn't very convincing.
Trip wrapped his arms around Malcolm, holding him tight. Malcolm rested his head against Trip's shoulder, and they both closed their eyes, breathing in unison.
Moments later, they opened their eyes, back in their quarters on the Kraynita. Trip's fingers tightened on Malcolm's. "We will get him back, Malcolm. I promise."
Tianara entered the cabin where Chancel was resting. She did not approve of Kryalchek's actions in kidnapping the child. She had protested to the Ministry, but they had ignored her. She had stayed with Kryalchek to protect the child, but hated her own complicity.
Chancel was sleeping in the bed, a small smile on his face. Tianara frowned, wondering what he was dreaming. Chancel had been upset when he'd awakened and found himself on the Morganian medical ship. He'd been violent, actually, attacking Kryalchek and demanding to be returned to his parents. Kryalchek had had to sedate the child. He had returned several times to try to reason with Chancel, wanting to win him over to Kryalchek's side. Chancel had begun giving Kryalchek the silent treatment, only speaking to say that he wanted his Daddy, his Airith, and his serith.
Tianara sighed as she watched Chancel sleep. She had warned Kryalchek that his plan would not work. The bonds and the lines between Chancel and his adoptive family were too strong. Kryalchek, for all that he was blood kin to the child, was a stranger. Even the fact that he, too, was missing his stripes was not enough to produce a bond with Chancel that could break the ones already formed with Tucker, Reed, and Merisel.
"Daddy? Airith?" Chancel's sleepy voice cut into Tianara's reverie. The boy opened his eyes and focused on Tianara. She smiled at him.
"They're not here, Chancel."
"They were," he said softly. "They were here. They said they were coming to get me. They want me to be strong."
Tianara nodded. "I'm sure they are coming for you."
"They won't let Kryalchek take the lines away." Chancel's expression was stubborn.
"Good." Tianara saw the surprise in his face. "They would not be worthy of being your parents if they let you go easily." She nodded at Chancel and left the room.
She had a call to make.
"I've never seen Malcolm look so defeated."
Dr. Phlox looked over to where Reed was eating breakfast with daughter, then back at his companion. "You've probably never seen him as a father with a missing child, either, Ensign. As a parent, I can assure you this is the worst possible thing to happen, other than the death of a child."
Travis nodded. "I almost feel sorry for Dr. Kryalchek."
"Why is that?"
Travis grinned. "This is Malcolm, Doc. When he catches up to Dr. Kryalchek, if the doctor isn't blown out an airlock, he's going to wish he was. Of course," Travis mused, "Trip may have his own plans for tormenting the doctor."
"You really think Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed will indulge in something as petty as revenge?"
"Yes." Travis didn't hesitate. "They trusted Kryalchek with their son's life, and he betrayed that trust."
Phlox nodded. "That is true. Hopefully, Captains Archer and Gesnick will be able to restrain them."
Travis snorted. "I doubt it."
Phlox smiled ruefully. "As do I."
Merisel dragged her spoon through her oatmeal. It was obvious to anyone watching her that she did not want to eat it. 'Anyone' included her father, Malcolm Reed.
"Meri, you have to eat."
"No."
"Merisel, eat your breakfast."
Merisel looked up at her father. "It's yucky."
"It's oatmeal."
"It's yucky."
"You still have to eat it."
"I want borkya."
Malcolm blinked. Borkya was, to all extents and purposes, oatmeal. Both he and Trip ate it often because it tasted like oatmeal - a little reminder of their home. It went well with g'dargah sausage, something he liked. A little saltier and more heavily smoked than Earth pork sausage, and made from an alien boar, it was still similar enough to an Earth food to make Malcolm a little homesick.
But he couldn't dwell on food at the moment. He had to deal with a recalcitrant four-year-old Morganian. Briefly, he wondered if he'd been this bad at her age.
"We can't have borkya because Daddy, Waslia, and some of the Enterprise crew are repairing the Kraynita's galley. Chef doesn't know how to make borkya, but he has made oatmeal. Either you eat your oatmeal, or you don't eat until lunch." Malcolm deliberately ate a spoonful of his oatmeal.
Merisel got a stubborn look on her face, put her spoon in her bowl, and pushed it away, crossing her arms. Malcolm didn't react to her defiance, merely kept eating.
//Not that I disagree with your tactics, Mal, but how are you going to ensure that someone on Enterprise doesn't feed her? You know they all adore her, and your security team won't let her out of their sight now if we're not around.// Trip sounded amused by the way the armory staff had become Merisel's unofficial bodyguards ever since Chancel had been taken.
//I'll make sure they understand. If need be, I'll keep her with me all day.// Malcolm grinned. //She can always help you work on the galley.//
//Not a chance. She'd be whining for food, and Waslia would declare that we were cruel and heartless parents and feed her.//
Malcolm looked at his daughter. //That's true. I suppose I'll keep her with me. I know she misses Chancel, that's probably behind all this.//
//That and her life has been disrupted by the attack and us and Chancel getting hurt and having to stay on Enterprise. It's enough to make me crawl into bed and pull the covers up and not come back out for the next twenty years or so.//
//Not even if I danced the tarantella naked around the room?//
A phantom pain ghosted across Malcolm's foot as the mental image caused Trip to drop something. //Don't do that to me!// Trip finally responded. //My crew is looking at me oddly and Waslia is attempting not to laugh her head off.//
Malcolm smiled as he kept eating. //Sorry, love, but it couldn't be helped.//
"Airith?" Merisel's voice interrupted the mental conversation.
"Yes, Merisel?"
"When's lunch?"
Malcolm sighed, hearing Trip laugh softly in his mind. It was going to be a long day.
Kryalchek stepped into the room where Chancel was staying and set down the box he was carrying. He sat on the floor next to the box and opened it, bringing out a crystal that glowed faintly red. Chancel looked at the crystal and then looked at Kryalchek.
"No," Chancel said quietly.
Kryalchek didn't look up from where he was arranging the crystal inside a circle of blue powder. "This is for your benefit, Chancel-cyranth. You need to be with Morganians."
"Then where's my serith, Merisel?"
Chancel's question was ignored as the doctor continued setting up for the ritual.
"They're my parents."
"They are human."
"They're mine," Chancel insisted. "My Morganian family didn't want me, but Airith and Daddy and Merisel do."
"I am your Morganian family, Chancel."
"Then where were you?" Chancel's blue eyes glittered in the light of the passing stars.
"I was unable to get to Morgania in time," Kryalchek said patiently. He set an empty pouch on top of the crystal.
"I don't believe you." Chancel sat down on the bed and crossed his arms. "I won't let you have the lines. Daddy and Airith won't let you either."
Kryalchek responded by speaking in Morganian, starting the Try'al'aeth.
"Sub-Commander, I believe I have something."
T'Pol looked up at Hoshi. "What is it?"
The communications officer frowned at her board. "It's a faint signal, a lot of static that sounds artificial, as if someone's trying to hide the message."
T'Pol rose from the captain's chair and came to stand behind Hoshi. "Can you tell what the message is?"
Hoshi tapped at the controls, concentrating on the sounds in her earpiece. "I can make out a set of coordinates, and --" she tapped some more before her eyes widened. "The full message is a set of coordinates and a name -- Chancel Reed-Tucker."
T'Pol turned and pressed the com button on the armrest of the captain's chair. "Captain Archer, please report to the bridge." She turned back to Hoshi. "Send the coordinates to Ensign Mayweather's console. Set a course, Warp 4.5," she ordered the helmsman, who nodded and began plotting their course.
"Ensign Meyer, scan the area to ensure this is not a trap."
"Aye, sir," the tactical officer replied.
T'Pol moved to her own console, taking readings of the area they were heading into. It was illogical, in her mind, to follow such a convenient lead. However, she knew Captain Archer would have ordered the ship to those coordinates anyway. If they were correct coordinates for the location of Tucker and Reed's son, then the extra minutes spent waiting for the captain could make a difference in whether or not Chancel was successfully retrieved.
In this instance, logic needed to give way to expediency. And perhaps, T'Pol admitted to herself, a little bit of human hope was behind her actions.
Malcolm, Selika, and Gerandik were on the bridge, repairing consoles. Merisel sat in Terisan's captain's chair, with his permission, working on putting the inventory of undamaged cargo goods into order. It kept her busy, and it was more interesting to her than schoolwork. Malcolm glanced over at her and smiled, seeing her busy with a padd on one knee, lightpen in hand, as she copied cargo listings from another padd. Terisan and Wessic had done a basic inventory not long after the Kraynita docked on Enterprise, but Terisan wanted the listing put into his own special system. He just hadn't had the time.
Malcolm looked back at the console he was currently lying under, frowning at the wires that were twisted and burned. It seemed like for every wire he replaced, three more damaged ones suddenly appeared. Sighing, he reached for one, tracing it to the contact point at one end and disconnecting it before connecting a new wire, then tracing to the other end and repeating the process. He'd just discarded the damaged wire when Merisel cried out and dropped her padds, curling in on herself.
"Meri!" Malcolm sat up and pushed himself to his feet, running to his daughter's side. //Trip!// he sent frantically.
"Airith," Merisel moaned. "The lines," she whispered.
//The lines? Chancel?// Trip sent back, his mental voice reflecting his breathlessness, telling Malcolm that Trip was racing to the bridge.
//I don't know,// Malcolm replied, holding Merisel tightly. She pulled away and he let go, a second before fire ripped through every nerve ending, as if his entire body was on the surface of a sun. He tried not to cry out as the feeling tripled, his own pain caught with Trip's pain, reflected back to each other in a brutal cycle.
//He can't have them!// Malcolm thought dazedly, trying to hold onto consciousness, vaguely hearing the others on the bridge as Selika grabbed Merisel and Gerandik called for Kerth and Phlox.
//He can't have them!// Trip echoed in Malcolm's mind. They both suddenly realized what they were fighting against. Their son's captor was trying to remove the lines, lines that Chancel had given them, lines both men regarded as binding as blood in their family.
//He won't take them,// both men thought together, just before darkness claimed them.
Archer stood at the edge of the scanning unit and watched as Phlox and Kerth hovered over their patients. Merisel was awake, but whimpering in pain still, clinging to Waslia for comfort. Trip and Malcolm were both unconscious, had been since, well, whatever had happened to them on the Kraynita. According to Selika, Merisel had mentioned something about the lines. Archer knew about the lines that connected both Merisel and Chancel to Trip and Malcolm from talking with the two men over the past few days. He knew that neither man truly understood what the lines did, but they were important to them because they were important to the children. Trip had mentioned there was a ceremony to remove them, but he didn't know much about it.
He walked over to where Waslia and Merisel were sitting on a biobed, allowing Merisel to see her fathers. She was still whimpering.
"Is she all right?" Archer asked Waslia.
The woman shook her head. "I believe that Kryalchek," she spat the name like a curse, "is trying to remove the lines that Chancel gave to Tucker and Reed. The backlash of that is hitting Merisel." She stroked the child's hair.
"We received a message that may lead us to Chancel. We're on our way there now."
"Hurry," Merisel whimpered, looking up at the captain with frightened gray eyes. Her stripe was no longer a dark blue, Archer noticed.
He reached out and took Merisel's hand, squeezing it. "We are, Merisel. I promise."
It was like being caught in a lightning storm. White lines of something similar to electricity tore through the landscape, ricocheting off the black glass of the walls and screaming through him. He could see Malcolm a few feet away, his own body racked by the lightning. Trip screamed as he saw Chancel further away, the lightning coming through his small body. Anger flashed through him as he heard Chancel's faint cry of pain over the lightning.
Movement on his right, Malcolm rushing toward Chancel, only to be tossed back by a streak of lightning arcing through him. Trip doubled over in pain, wincing as the bond sent his lifemate's pain through him as well.
They had to get to Chancel. It was the only way to keep Kryalchek from taking the lines. Trip didn't know how he knew that, he just knew. Looking over at Malcolm, who was getting back on his feet, Trip saw the same knowledge in his husband's eyes.
Trip crouched, watching the lightning and waiting for his chance. He was going to reach his son.
Merisel climbed off her biobed carefully. She'd refused to leave Sickbay when Waslia had tried to get her to return to the Kraynita. Kerth had offered to stay with Merisel, and Kerth and Doctor Phlox were in his office, talking quietly. Merisel was supposed to be asleep, but she couldn't sleep. Daddy and Airith needed her help.
Their lines were dark, angry and frightened. They were trying to keep them from being torn away from her serith. Chancel was fighting too, she knew. He wouldn't give up on Daddy and Airith.
Merisel moved between the biobeds her parents lay on. She took their hand in hers. She'd read about the Try'al'aeth in the books that Girana had given her. She knew that someone was trying to take the lines that Daddy and Airith had given to Chancel, so that Chancel would no longer be their son, be her serith. Merisel assumed it was Kryalchek-meranith.
Merisel didn't know if Kryalchek-meranith knew that she and Chancel had exchanged lines as well, a serith bonding after Daddy had given his lines to Chancel. It was rare among Morganians, they both knew, but for the two of them, the only Morganians on their ship, it had felt right. Both had lost their biological parents in raids, and both had been afraid of losing their new parents, and what would happen to them if that happened. A serith bonding would ensure that they stayed together under Morganian law, no matter what family took them in. Now, though, Merisel could use the serith bonding to help her parents prevent Kryalchek-meranith from taking the lines from Chancel.
Merisel closed her eyes, willing her serith to be strong.
Malcolm doubled over as Trip was thrown back by the lightning. Neither of them had been able to gain more than a few inches of ground toward their son, but they kept trying. Each time one of them raced forward, the lightning would force them back. Malcolm could see Chancel trying to reach them as well, the lightning keeping the boy from moving too far in their direction.
The lightning was getting worse, almost wracking Chancel constantly. Anger burned through Malcolm along with the lightning. It was one thing to attack him and Trip for the lines, another to attack a child, his son.
Malcolm felt a hand slip into his, looked down. Merisel stood there, her gray eyes wide and serious. Before Malcolm could ask any questions, she turned and tugged him over to Trip. The lightning raged around them, but didn't touch them. Malcolm could still feel the pain Trip was in, until they reach him and Merisel took Trip's hand tightly. The lightning broke off, pain easing instantly.
"Merisel," Trip gasped.
"We have to get to Chancel," was all she said, looking from one parent to the other.
//How the hell did she get here?//
Malcolm shook his head. //I don't know.//
"Daddy, Airith, we need to get to Chancel." Merisel tugged on their hands, standing a few steps away, practically straining toward her serith.
//I can't argue with her,// Trip said.
//Agreed,// Malcolm replied. Aloud, he said, "Let's go."
On the Morganian medical ship, Tianara entered Chancel's quarters and gasped at the sight of the child curled up in pain on the bed. Kryalchek was crosslegged on the floor in front of the Try'al'aeth altar, his eyes closed and his forehead furrowed in intense concentration. It appeared something wasn't going quite as planned for him.
Tianara turned her back on her colleague with a shrug. She knew that she could join him at the altar, add her will to his, and ensure the lines were removed. But she did not agree with the decision to try the Try'al'aeth, and would not assist him. Instead, she sat on the bed and drew Chancel's head into her lap.
"Fight, young Chancel. You can beat him," she murmured, stroking back the dark hair. "You have to beat him, youngling."
Tianara had seen children who had been through this ritual, and the children who had not been through it willingly were never quite the same once the lines were removed. She didn't want to see that happen to Chancel.
Archer stood on the bridge, looking over Travis' shoulder as the Boomer piloted. They were getting closer to the coordinates the mysterious message had specified. T'Pol had been correct in changing their course, especially now that Trip and Malcolm were in some sort of coma-like state. As far as Archer could tell, they were fighting for their son on some other plane of existence. Perhaps. Or they were just in comas and dying. Neither Phlox nor Kerth were able to really explain anything. The most explanation Archer had gotten had come from a frightened Merisel.
Mystical stuff was useless to Archer. Give him pure science any day.
"How much farther?" Archer asked T'Pol.
"We should be at the coordinates in approximately 45 minutes," she replied calmly.
Archer nodded, returning to his chair and staring at the viewscreen.
The lightning crackled all around them, seeming to roar in frustration when it couldn't touch any of them. Trip and Malcolm would both flinch a little as the spikes would stop just inches from them, remembering how they had felt going through each other's bodies. Merisel didn't even seem to notice. Her focus was on Chancel, who was still straining to reach them, the lightning still hitting him. Merisel frowned, and anger coursed through the bond between Malcolm and Trip, feeding each other's.
//I am going to draw, quarter, and then hang Kryalchek's head above the door to our quarters as a warning to anyone who tries to hurt our children.// Malcolm's mental voice was little more than a growl.
//Just make sure you remove all the blood first,// Trip remarked. //We can use it to paint warnings on the hull.//
They were getting closer to Chancel, closer than they had been before. Chancel had seen them, Malcolm could tell. The boy got to his feet and stood facing them, not moving toward them, so the lightning didn't attack him. The look on his face nearly broke Malcolm's heart, though. Although he tried to hide it, it seemed that Chancel hadn't been sure his parents would get to him in time. Malcolm kept his face turned toward his son, trying to convey reassurance that they were coming for him, would make it to him no matter what. If he died trying to get to Chancel, he would not give up on his son.
//Neither will I, Malcolm,// Trip said quietly. //Meri's not giving up on her brother, either.//
Malcolm glanced at Trip, nodding. He hadn't realized he'd been broadcasting, but given his mood, he wasn't surprised.
The lightning got worse the closer they got to Chancel, and they could hear echoes of rage in the thunder that accompanied it, as if someone was furious at being denied the chance to stop them.
Merisel held her fathers' hands tighter, jumping at each flash. "Hurry," she urged them, breaking into a near run. Trip and Malcolm followed. The thunder got louder, the lightning more frequent in its intensity, as they got closer to Chancel.
A few steps more, Malcolm thought, and they'd have him. He reached out for Chancel's hand, hearing the screams as the storm tried to keep them from touching, but it couldn't, and father and son grabbed hands and held on, Malcolm drawing Chancel into a hug, Merisel and Trip joining in, the four of them still holding hands. The lightning raged around them impotently, and then stopped, leaving only the four of them.
"I was so scared," Chancel whispered.
"We're here, Chancel," Trip whispered back. "We won't ever let you go."
"Never," Merisel echoed.
"Enterprise is coming to get you, Chancel," Malcolm reassured. "You just need to hold on for a bit longer."
Chancel looked up, blue eyes shimmering with tears. "I will, Airith. I will."
Phlox and Kerth emerged from Phlox's office to find Malcolm and Trip awake, their arms wrapped around each other, with Merisel in between them. The three were holding on tightly, seemingly unaware of anyone else in the room. The two Denobulans stopped, worried that the worst had happened, until Trip opened his eyes and saw them. He smiled broadly, a smile of joy, and the doctors relaxed, knowing that Trip and Malcolm had won the battle for their son on the other plane.
Now they just had to win the battle on the physical plane.