The Mission

Genres: angst, AU

Keywords: challenge

Summary: T'Resa Tucker gets in over her head.

Author's Note: This is dark. For the October 'spirit' challenge.

T'Resa Tucker was hiding in a filthy alley behind a garbage can, trying to make herself invisible. The pouring rain had her short brown hair plastered to her head. She had her arms wrapped around her middle in an effort to ease her pain. At the moment broken ribs were the least of her problems. T'Resa was fairly certain that she was going to die on this god-forsaken planet and her parents would never know what happened to her. As the dispirited young woman leaned her head back to take in a mouthful of rain water, the equivalent of an Earth rat crawled across her foot. The creature sat up on its hindquarters and sniffed at her.

T'Resa gave a slight chuckle and then grimaced at the pain. "Sorry if I have your spot buddy, but you'll have to find another place for tonight."

The battered young woman fell into a restless sleep. The events of the last few days came rushing unbidden to her mind.

At thirty, T'Resa had been in the Diplomatic Corp. for several years. She was learning the ropes from senior ambassadors and a great deal more wisdom from the counsel of her beloved grandfather, Soval. As T'Resa walked from a meeting at Starfleet back to her office she was approached by a well dressed stranger.

"Miss Tucker, my name is Jackson Long. May I have a few minutes of your time?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Long but I have somewhere to be soon, perhaps you would like to make an appointment with my secretary."

"I'm afraid this is a bit more important than baby sitting your little sister tonight."

T'Resa gave the handsome man a suspicious glare. "Just how would you know what my plans for tonight are Mr. Long?"

Producing his Starfleet Intelligence credentials Jackson Long replied, "I know a great many things about you Miss Tucker."

T'Resa looked at herself in the mirror and wondered if her own family would recognize her now. The reflection in the mirror was of a young Vulcan woman with traditionally cut brown hair, brown eyes, and slanted eyebrows. She gently touched the small incision on her right side. It contained a collagen pouch she was to transport a data chip in. During the last thirty-six hours she had been recruited by Mr. Long for a mission to Rigel ten, told her family she would be on vacation for several weeks, and found out that there was an organization called Section 31.

The cold war with the Klingon Empire had escalated in the last few months. There were rumors in covert circles of a planned attack on one of the outer rim colonies. Jane Hastings had been an agent with Section 31 for many years and during those years she had lived in the guise of a Vulcan. The transformation was so perfect that she had fooled even the Vulcans that crossed her path. T'Jan, as she was known, was invaluable to Section 31 since having their own personal 'Vulcan' agent gained access to many places Humans were not welcome. Three days ago her luck ran out.

On board a battered, old, non-descript freighter headed for Rigel ten, T'Resa's hair was being cut and colored as agent Long began his briefing. "As you know, Tucker, one of our most valuable agents was killed when her transport was attacked by a band of Nausicaan pirates. Time is of the essence or we would not have approached you. A Klingon house that wants open war with Earth has an elaborate attack plan organized. If they succeed in wiping out the colony, Earth will surely sign a declaration of war against the Klingon Empire. Fortunately, we have a greedy contact on Kronos who is willing to sell out his buddies for a hefty price. With the details of the plan in hand the attack can be quietly thwarted. The problem is the contact is on the way to Rigel expecting to meet a young Vulcan woman. Our agent must be fluent in the Vulcan language and customs. That's where you come in, Tucker; some field agent with a half-ass make-up job won't fool the denizens of Rigel. We need you to make the trade, credit chip for data chip; then back to your shuttle and rendezvous with this ship clean and quick."

The Tucker luck was a universal constant. If anything could go south, it would. Landing her shuttle at the crowded space port T'Resa paid her berthing fee and headed to the city. Directions from the port authority guard in hand, T'Resa made her way to a modest hotel. She then proceeded to the prearranged meeting place, a fairly disreputable bar. The young woman arrived at the bar a few minutes before the appointed time but her contact failed to appear. She had to settle in for several hours nursing her drink. Finally a rather unkempt Klingon slid into the booth across from her.

"Are you T'Jan, woman?"

"That is indeed my name, Marlek. I understand that Klingons sing opera at night."

"I hear that Vulcans mate in the sand, like targ."

"I am uncertain why your recognition code had to be so crude."

The Klingon threw back his head and laughed heartily, "I enjoy seeing you Vulcans sit there and take insults as if you have no honor. Now buy me a drink little Vulcan and we will talk business."

T'Resa really didn't like this moron. Marlek appeared to be already drunk when he sat down and was drawing way to much attention to them. After their drinks arrived the transaction began. Marlek slid a chip to her which T'Resa inserted into a small scanner to verify the information. It was definitely an attack plan for an Earth colony. She in turn passed him the scanner and a credit chip. T'Resa slipped the chip into the pouch in her side and quickly ran her fingers over the incision several times to activate the sealant. Paying her no heed, Marlek's eyes glazed over when he saw the amount of credits.

"It appears our business is complete. I will take my leave now."

Marlek's hand shot out and grabbed T'Resa's wrist, "Why don't you have another drink Vulcan? Perhaps we can go back to my room and celebrate me being a very wealthy man."

T'Resa with complete Vulcan calm leaned in close, "I would rather mate in the sand with a targ."

Marlek released her wrist but before he could think of a reply, their table was suddenly surrounded by Rigelian police officers.

T'Resa realized that the Rigelian police were just as corrupt as the people they supposedly protected. Marlek had been arrested; apparently the idiot had gotten into a fight and killed a man before their meeting. Just to be perverse the stupid Klingon had claimed she was his partner.

"T'Jan, what do you know of the murder committed by your partner?"

T'Resa was bound at the wrists and her arms were pulled above her head by a rope. Telling them that she knew nothing and had just met the Klingon was not what they wanted to hear. For the last hour T'Resa had been beaten by an officer who seemed to take great delight in his work.

"I have no involvement with Marlek and know nothing of a murder," T'Resa repeated.

Her tormenter drew back and punched the Vulcan girl in the stomach causing her to nearly black out. "Take her back to her cell, we'll talk again tomorrow."

T'Resa began to come around as two underlings dragged her to a cell. They dropped her to the floor of her cell in a heap. All she could manage was to curl into a ball and try to cushion her beaten face.

The man that had done so much damage to her face and body walked up to the bars. "After I finish my rounds, I'm coming for you Vulcan. I think you will spend this night handcuffed to my bunk keeping me warm." T'Resa could hear his laughter as he moved away.

"My beloved daughter, you must gather your strength."

"Mama?" T'Resa looked up with eyes that were almost swollen shut. T'Pol was sitting on the floor of her cell.

"Yes my child, you do not have much time. Remember when I gave you and your brother lessons in Vulcan martial arts. Your father would always say that you had the heart of a lion, the spirit of a warrior and the calm of a Vulcan. Right now you must call up all the reserves of strength you possess."

T'Resa cried out as her mother's image began to fade, "Mother, don't leave me."

"I never will, Daughter." She whispered.

The beaten woman knew what she had to do; however reaching a meditative state was not easy. There was no time for a healing trace but meditation would help her gather what energy she could.

The officer unlocked the cell door and stepped in. The Vulcan woman appeared to be unconscious. It didn't matter; he would bring her around when they got to his room. Picking up the limp body, he carried her down the corridor. Placing the Vulcan on his bunk, he turned to retrieve a pair of handcuffs. Turning back the man was surprised by the sight of the battered woman standing in front of him. Using her mother's technique T'Resa gave him a vicious kick to the stomach and as he bent forward she brought her clasped hand down hard on the back of his neck. Cuffing him to a sturdy pipe and tying a gag around his mouth, T'Resa slipped out of the police station and ran.

The rain had stopped as T'Resa jerked awake. The alley was quiet as it was still several hours till daybreak. She was so cold and had stiffened up as she slept. T'Resa knew she couldn't go back to the hotel and she would never make it to her shuttle. The space port had too many patrols and by now her shuttle would be on lockdown. Her head hurt so badly that she could hardly think at all.

"Honey, you need to make a plan before daylight."

T'Resa smiled, "Daddy, are you here too?"

Trip was bent down on one knee looking her in the face. "There's no time sweetheart, figure out what you're going to do and get moving."

"I hurt so bad Daddy; it's hard to get my mind to work."

"What do I always tell you Baby Girl?"

T'Resa frowned trying to think, "Don't eat too much pecan pie or I'll get sick."

"Yeah well besides that."

"Believe in myself and I'll find the answer?"

"That's it Darlin' you got to believe there's a way out of this then you'll find it."

T'Resa thought for a minute, "If I go back to the bar, maybe I can find a freighter pilot that will smuggle me off planet. Long will pay handsomely for my safe passage to his ship."

"That's the spirit Sweetie, just don't give up." With those last words Trip faded away.

As she struggled to her feet T'Resa muttered, "I wish you guys would stop doing that."

With her arms wrapped around her middle, T'Resa tried to stay in the shadows as much as possible. She slowly made her way toward the bar keeping an eye out for police. Leaning against the wall outside the bar she attracted the attention of what she thought might be a likely looking pilot. Apparently he was skeptical of someone in her condition being able to pay so he brushed her off and entered the bar.

T'Resa noticed a man wearing a hooded cloak. He seemed to be watching her and this made her very uneasy. She was trying to decide whether to enter the bar, as this would make her more vulnerable, when she was approached by a group of three drunken men.

"How much, woman?" One of the men asked while his drunken friends laughed. "Just for me, not all of us. They can pay for their own."

T'Resa tried to back away, "You have made a mistake, I am not a prostitute."

"Sure, you just hang around outside of bars for the scenery." Laughed the man.

"Tolan, look she's a Vulcan, you ever seen a Vulcan whore?" His friend tried to pull him away and into the bar.

Tolan brushed him off and advanced on her backing her into the shadows. "No, but I've a mind to try one."

When the drunk grabbed her arm T'Resa mustered her remaining strength for the coming fight. To her surprise she saw a stun beam strike each of the three men in turn. Moving away to run, T'Resa stumbled into the arms of the cloaked man. She began to struggle but the man wrapped her in a tight embrace.

"Stop fighting me Love, you'll hurt yourself."

T'Resa froze at the sound of that familiar accent. "Uncle Malcolm! Are you real?"

From under the hood Malcolm Reed smiled at his god-daughter, "Yes, Love, I'm real."

After leaving Enterprise, Malcolm Reed became the founder of a training facility for covert operatives. He trained the best and most elite commandos. Although Captain Reed was no longer involved with Section 31 he still had many friends from that time in his life. David Bates-Smith was one of his oldest friends from those days.

Sitting on a park bench outside Starfleet, Malcolm was eating the sandwich that his wife Helen had packed him this morning. Bates-Smith sat down beside him. He wasn't surprised as David tended to turn up periodically when there was news.

"Reedy, how is life treating you?"

"Can't complain David, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

"Actually, I wanted to let you know that Jane Hastings has died, I know that she was a very good friend."

Malcolm frowned, "I am indeed sorry to hear that. What happened?"

"Her ship was attacked by Nausicaan pirates. How ridiculous is that? After all these years, she wasn't even killed on a mission."

"What will that bastard, Long, do now without his phony Vulcan agent to abuse?"

Malcolm had never worked for Jackson Long but he had no respect for the man. He felt that Long did not have his agent's backs when it counted. At least in his day, Harris backed up his people even if he was a bit of a bully.

"He wasted no time replacing her. That very day he approached the Tucker woman."

Reed froze, "Do you mean T'Pol Tucker?"

"No, the daughter, I think her name is T'Resa."

Malcolm's sandwich fell to the ground as he jumped to his feet. "That son-of-a-bitch!"

Fighting her way back to consciousness T'Resa realized she was in a medical bay. She also realized that her ribs had been taped and someone had given her some very good pain meds. Things were kind of a blur. T'Resa remembered Uncle Malcolm appearing in the alley outside of the bar as if by magic. Then he whisked her away to a warehouse, where he placed her in a crate and gave her a hypo spray. As sleep overtook her, T'Resa knew she was safe in his care. That was the last she remembered until waking up here.

 Malcolm entered the room and came to stand by the bed. "How are you feeling, Love?"

"Much better than when you found me. By the way, how did you find me?" T'Resa said with a smile.

"Long story short: sources told me about the mission. I followed you to Rigel ten and arrived after you had been arrested. Before I could break you out, you escaped. You are a very resourceful young woman. I figured that your best recourse was to look for someone to get you off planet. I was looking for several hours and finally spotted you outside the bar."  

"Thank goodness you found me when you did. I'm not sure I had another fight in me." T'Resa held her side as she stifled a cough, "Where are we?"

"This ship is headed for Risa."

T'Resa interrupted, "Uncle Malcolm, I was supposed to rendezvous with a freighter in orbit around Rigel."

Reed tried to calm the agitated woman, "Don't worry T'Resa, I know all about Jackson Long. I sent him a message, Long will be hot on our heels to Risa. I had the doctor remove the chip from your side while you were still out."

"How did you know about that?"

"Sweetheart, I've known about covert operation techniques since way back when you're Mom and Dad still couldn't stand each other. Speaking of which, you realize your father is going to raise holy hell when he finds out about this."

"Please don't tell my parents about this. I don't want them to ever know I went on this mission."

"While I hate lying to Trip and T'Pol, I will keep this secret for you on one condition. You promise me that you will never do anything like this again and will have no further contact with Jackson Long. I will give him the chip and explain that you have retired from covert ops."

"Agreed."

Jackson Long walked in the restaurant and directly to Malcolm's table seating himself.

Speaking without preamble, "Captain Reed, how did you manage to involve yourself in my affairs?"

"Actually it was your fault. You make a grievous error in judgment trying to draw my god-daughter into your seedy world. That is never going to happen. I will give you the data chip in return for your word never to approach any of the Tuckers again. We both know that you could have used another agent in disguise for this mission. You simply saw it as an opportunity to get T'Resa in your clutches as a replacement for Jane."

Long lowered his head and chuckled, "You're very savvy, Captain Reed."

Malcolm leaned in close intending to make this clear, "The Tuckers are family. If you ever bother them again there will be consequences."

"Harris always said you were a man to be reckoned with." Jackson Long gave him an appraising look, "We have a deal. Now may I have the chip?"

Reed slid the chip over and stood to leave, "She almost died, you know."

Jackson smiled, "But she didn't. I still think with a little experience she would make a first-class agent."

"Well that's something we will never know."

Back at the hotel Malcolm was putting a call through to Earth. It had suddenly dawned on T'Resa as she was telling her 'Uncle' the details of her experience that her visions of her Mom and Dad might have been reciprocal.

"It may have just been my concussion that caused the visions, but what if Mother and Daddy sensed my distress Uncle Malcolm? They'll be so worried."

Reed arranged for the hotel beautician to return T'Resa's hair color to its normal blonde. Some judiciously applied make-up covered the lingering bruises. Malcolm helped her to the chair at the comm. station.

"You look great. Just stay calm and keep smiling." The comm beeped signaling the connection. Malcolm stepped out of viewing range.

The faces of T'Pol and Trip Tucker came into view. Both looked immediately relieved.

"Darlin' are we ever glad you called. We've been trying to get in touch with you for days." Trip smiled at his daughter.

T'Pol frowned, "Are you well, Daughter? Several days ago during meditation I had a sensation of dread, as if something were terribly wrong."

"I'm fine Mother; I've just been busy enjoying the sights of Risa. You know how I love snorkeling..."

Trip broke in, "The crazy thing is, Sweetie, that night I had a dream that you were being attacked by a pack of snarling wolves. I woke up in a cold sweat. The whole thing left us both uneasy."

"Well as you can see I'm fine."

Her father laughed, "That's funny you sounded just like Malcolm Reed used to when we asked how he was."

T'Pol looked at her child quizzically, "May I ask why you decided to cut your hair suddenly?"

Giving her mother a small smile T'Resa replied, "Well since I've been on Risa I've been spending all my time either diving or in the sun. I decided it was cooler and easier to deal with short."

"I like it."  Trip said, "It reminds me of your Mom's when I first met her. Makes you look like a pixie."

"Thanks Daddy, that's the look I was going for," T'Resa said rolling her eyes. "Well, I better go. It's time to get ready for dinner. I love you guys; see you in a couple of weeks."

As her parents signed off, she could tell they were much more at ease.

T'Resa looked up at her uncle, "Lying to them was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do."

Malcolm helped her over to the bed and eased her down. "Try to get a little sleep. I'll go get us some food." Stopping at the door he looked back. "T'Resa, that's why you could never do covert work," He smiled, "Living a life of lies would crush the spirit of one such as you."