Surak's Soul - J.M. Dillard [14]
“Sometimes no matter what you do, you can’t help,” Trip said. “At least the people lived well, and had a wonderful culture. From what the captain and Malcolm have said, it sounds like they all died peacefully.”
Hoshi shook her head. “Not one man.”
“Uggh.” Reed shuddered. “That’s true. He had a ghastly time of it.”
Archer turned to Trip. “In one of the medical treatment rooms, we found a female survivor—at least, she was alive when we found her. There was a male who’d been standing over her bed—her doctor, maybe—and he’d died and fallen on top of her. When we lifted him up, we saw his face….”
“It was awful, Commander,” Hoshi said, at last showing some of the anguish she’d been trying to hold in. “His expression was contorted, as if he’d been angry, so angry at something, and so tormented by it….”
The remembered image filled Archer with sadness; at the same time, he felt a sudden inspiration as to how to encourage Hoshi. “It was a horrible thing to have to see. That’s why I’m glad we have you, Hoshi. All their logs, including those we found in that hospital room—you’ll be able to help solve the mystery.”
“But it’s too late to help them, sir,” Hoshi countered miserably. “That was my point….”
“Maybe,” Archer interjected. “But the records they left will help others, might stop the same thing from happening again. You’ll be helping them leave a legacy.”
At that, Hoshi lifted her chin and gave him an appreciative look. “Thank you, Captain. You know, you really shouldn’t worry about me. I’ll be all right once I get to work. Besides, it had to have been just as hard on you to see what we did.”
Archer felt a hint of a wry smile make its way to his lips.
Reed leaned forward, watching the captain expectantly, apparently hoping for similar encouragement; Archer’s smile became fixed as he gave Reed a little shrug. The smile vanished quickly as the door opened.
T’Pol’s slender form appeared in the hatchway.
“Come in,” Archer said warmly, grateful for the rescue.
But the Vulcan lingered tentatively in the entry. “I had hoped to speak with you alone, sir. Now is clearly not an appropriate time. May I make an appointment?”
“No need.” Archer rose and nodded at his dinner companions. “If you’ll excuse me…”
“I did not mean to interrupt you,” T’Pol insisted, but Archer was already beside her, and led her out into the empty common dining room. Once there, he faced her squarely.
“What can I do for you, Sub-Commander?”
“Sir,” she said smoothly, and though her finely drawn features remained composed in her customary placid expression, Archer sensed her unease. “I have come to a decision regarding my role in the death of the last survivor on the planet’s surface.”
Once again, the captain considered the death of the alien from the Vulcan’s point of view: despite T’Pol’s apparent lack of reaction, the incident had had a profound effect on her; and while he felt some degree of success in terms of helping Hoshi to deal emotionally with her trauma, he had no idea how to counsel a Vulcan—if, indeed, counseling would do any good. But he knew that T’Pol had to be reminded of the time, long ago, when she’d been forced to kill a Vulcan smuggler in self-defense. It had been very difficult for her to come to grips with it then…. He hoped, in this case, it was easier for her now.
“T’Pol,” he said earnestly, “as Hoshi said, it wasn’t your fault that the alien died. I was ready to fire at him myself; you just beat me to the punch. There was no way of predicting that he was going to—”
She interrupted him. “I directly caused his death, Captain.”
“Even so, you couldn’t have known it would happen. And the alternative was to let him kill Hoshi. Like I said, I was about to fire at him myself.”
“But you are a human. I am a Vulcan.”
Archer fought not to rankle at the implication. “So I’ve noticed.”
“As a Vulcan, I am responsible for living my life in as nonviolent a way as possible. I had several alternatives for rescuing Hoshi instead