Mistaken Identity, Part 4

Last week, we found out who was behind the attack on Captain Blanchard and her ship. We also found out that the assault was actually intended for the McAuliffe's previous commander, Capt. Stewart Livingston. However, far from being remorseful, the being who planned and carried out this attack seems to be even more gleeful to learn that his weapon has disabled the wrong person -- and is stubbornly silent as to how to cure the captain.

This week, while Dr. Castle struggles to find a way to help Blanchard, we spend some time with the captain in the strange place the energy ray has sent her. We also discover a great secret about one of our crew. Will this secret be able to help the captain, or will our villain finally reveal the answer? Read on, and find out the answers to these questions and more.

Upon entering Sickbay, Jordan walked straight toward the captain’s bed, noting that the patient looked much as she had before. When Dr. Castle approached, she queried, “Has there been any change?”

Castle shook her head. “If anything, she’s gotten worse. Her brain waves are starting to become erratic. And I’ve had to administer medication to keep her heartbeat regular.” The woman took a deep breath before commenting, “She keeps slipping farther and farther away from us, Commander.”

The XO sighed as she leaned against a nearby bed. “We’ve discovered that the captain’s condition is the result of some kind of energy weapon that was stolen by the Zingaro – from whom, we have no idea. But apparently this was meant as a personal attack on Captain Livingston.”

The doctor’s face showed her amazement. “Captain Livingston?”

“I’ll explain later,” Jordan replied, waving her head wearily. “T’Ku’lhan is trying to find out who created this thing, in the hopes that will help us figure out how to counteract its effects.”

“We may not have time for that.” Castle shook her head sadly. “If we don’t do something very soon, we’re going to lose her.”

Jordan’s head snapped up at that, and she felt a sense of fear that was completely foreign to her nature. No longer engaging in a sparring match with the doctor, she queried, “And you don’t have any idea how to bring her out of this?”

The doctor paused for a moment before answering, just a bit sharply. “I did have one idea, as you might recall, Commander. You vetoed it at the time, but I don’t think we have any other options at the moment.”

The XO knew very well what Castle was referring to, and she shook her head defiantly. “No telepathy, Doctor. I’m afraid I’m going to have to be very firm on that.”

The doctor’s expression became challenging. “Commander, may I remind you that Captain Blanchard’s life is at stake here. How can you even consider ruling out anything that might be of help to her?” She paused before adding, “And, to be honest, I can do it with or without your permission, as Chief Medical Officer of this ship.”

Jordan paced around the ward, pondering her next move. Her own telepathic powers were a secret that had been known only to herself and to Captain Blanchard for years, as a result of an unspoken agreement. They had both benefited from those powers, on the command deck and on away missions as well. One of the XO’s greatest fears was to have Starfleet discover her gift. But was it worth the captain’s life to keep that secret? Surely she could take the doctor into her confidence, couldn’t she?

Dr. Castle watched the other woman curiously, sensing that she was going through some sort of inner turmoil. She also sensed that this was not the time for levity, and so waited respectfully for the XO to inwardly settle whatever it was that was disturbing her.

Finally, Jordan turned back to the doctor and approached the captain’s bed once more. “The reason I refused to allow a telepath to read the captain is because I had already done so, when I was down here earlier.”

The doctor cocked one eye inquisitively, but remained quiet as she sensed more was to come.

“Doctor, my grandmother was a Betazoid.” Jordan flushed as she said this, not sure how Castle would respond.

Castle nodded slightly as she considered this. “Yes, that would be part of your personnel file. But that only accounts for one-quarter of your genetic make-up. None of your physical exams have shown any indication of telepathic abilities.”

Jordan nodded. “I have spent a long time developing shields, Doctor.”

“If your shields are strong enough to block the kind of scanning you would have been subjected to before entering the Academy, then your powers must be strong indeed,” Castle commented thoughtfully. “I would love the chance to study them some time.”

The XO’s expression darkened considerably as she was tempted to loudly protest this, but then realized that this wasn’t the time. For now, Captain Blanchard’s safety should be their primary concern. So she replied only, “Perhaps, Doctor.”

The two women fell silent for a moment, then, as both considered what to do next. It was Jordan who spoke first. “Doctor, I do have an idea, if you will promise to keep what I have told you in the strictest confidence.”

“Of course, I will,” Castle responded, sounding slightly offended. “I am your doctor, after all.”

The XO looked as if she was about to debate the truth of that, but then decided against it. Instead, she put both hands in her pockets and leaned against the empty bed once more. “I think I can suggest a compromise, Doctor. We may have tried Betazoid telepathy, but the process works entirely differently with Vulcans. What do you think?”

The doctor looked skeptical for the slightest of moments, but then nodded her head thoughtfully. “It just might work. We don’t have any other options, after all.”

With that, Jordan stood up and slapped her comm. badge. “T’Ku’lhan to Sickbay, immediately.”

The briefest of intervals elapsed before the Vulcan woman entered and looked around her. Spying the doctor and XO, she made her way in their direction, looking down at the captain with an expression that looked like she was studying a new species of protozoa. “Yes, Commander?”

Jordan quickly summarized the situation, and the plan she and the doctor had agreed upon. T’Ku’lhan nodded as she listened, and appeared to ponder what she heard. “Might I be permitted to ask what you think I might be able to do here? I am no doctor.”

“No,” the doctor said, “that is very true. But, you are a strong telepath, like the rest of your people.” She took a step closer to the other woman. “We are asking you to try a mind-meld with the captain, to see if you can determine a solution to this problem.”

T’Ku’lhan nodded her understanding. “I’m afraid I cannot comply with your request,” she said evenly as she looked down at Blanchard.

Jordan’s face telegraphed her displeasure. “May I ask why not?”

The Vulcan nodded. “A long time ago, I took a vow to never meld with anyone without their consent.”

The doctor looked dumbfounded. “But the captain cannot give or deny consent in her present condition.”

“Nevertheless,” T’Ku’lhan countered, “I cannot go against my vows.”

“I’ve never heard such malarkey,” Jordan snorted. “Alright, I order you to mind-meld with the captain.”

“We do have Betazoids on the ship’s crew,” the Vulcan offered. “Perhaps one of them could be persuaded to attempt this task. The powers of those from Betazed are known to be very strong.”

The XO cast a warning look at Castle. The doctor nodded slightly and responded, “That has already been attempted.”

“Then it would be highly illogical for me to attempt something that has already been tried unsuccessfully,” T’Ku’lhan said calmly, arms crossed over her chest.

Jordan looked as if her temper was about to erupt. “I never heard such insubordination!”

The Vulcan turned serenely toward the XO. “I merely offer that my time would be better spent continuing my search for the race who created the energy ray that disabled Captain Blanchard.”

Now it was Dr. Castle’s turn to express her irritation. “Confound it, Commander! We’re running out of ideas here. As much as you and I may disagree with the captain’s policies, I refuse to stand by and allow any patient of mine to die for lack of trying. For one moment, can’t you throw your damnable logic out the window and try a little humanity?”

T’Ku’lhan cocked her eyebrow at the doctor, “I do not see why you should insult me, Doctor.”

“Hold on there!” Jordan exclaimed, her patience long gone. She strode forward and grasped the taller woman by her arms, forcing her to turn and look in her direction. “Commander, I don’t care what your personal feelings toward the captain – or toward me, for that matter – are. I’m asking you, as a personal favor, to do whatever you can do here.”

The two women stood eye to eye. One was tall and willowy, with an aloof air in her dark almond-shaped eyes. The other was shorter and more compact, and appeared to be barely suppressing an intense rage. T’Ku’lhan spoke with maddening calm, “Being a Vulcan, sir, my personal feelings, as you call them, are not a consideration.”

Jordan spun around, then, and marched off as if in search of something to hit. Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she walked back to the other woman and spoke with a lowered voice, “Alright, then, I’m giving you a direct order to try a mind-meld with the captain. Your vows, whatever they may be, mean less to me than the well-being of that woman over there.” She nodded toward the bed where Blanchard lay, still. “Now, do I have to get Ghegau down here with her guards and arrest you for disobeying a direct order?”

T’Ku’lhan nodded once, and then walked over to stand before the unconscious woman on the bed. She pressed her palms together and closed her eyes for a moment, before opening them and placing her fingertips on the captain’s face. She closed her eyes again, in concentration.

=/\=

After sprinting down the corridor for several seconds, Blanchard slowed to a stop. This was pointless, she thought. Someone had apparently brought her into this place with the intention of holding her as a prisoner. She was not going to find a way out by running down endless corridors. There had to be another solution.

Just then, she became aware of a movement behind her. Turning around quickly, she was surprised to see Lieutenant Commander T’Ku’lhan leaning against the bulkhead, arms crossed over her chest. “Hello, Captain,” the Vulcan woman said amicably.

“Are you behind this nonsense?” the captain demanded.

“No, not at all,” answered the Vulcan. “But I may be able to get you out of here.”

“That’s fine with me,” Blanchard replied. “Let’s go, then.”

“Not so fast,” T’Ku’lhan remarked, a slight smile playing across her face. “First I wanted to take this opportunity to have a little chat with you. Girl talk, you might say.” She sat down on the deck and patted the floor beside her, as if in invitation.

The other woman stayed right where she was, however, and stared down at the Vulcan. “I think you’d better tell me exactly what is going on here,” she ordered sternly. “I heard the Red Alert. If you’ve put the ship in danger. . . “ Blanchard took a step toward T’Ku’lhan, her fists balled up and her threat unfinished.

T’Ku’lhan spoke with a slight sarcastic edge to her voice, most uncharacteristic for a Vulcan. “We’re in your mind, my dear Captain,” she laughed, her behavior departing even further from the cool, unemotional demeanor she usually displayed. “Wandering through the endless maze of your empty human mind, as inferior as it may be. My, what a frightening thought. And, as for the ship, I claim no responsibility for the actions of that loose cannon you call a first officer. If she wants to get the McAuliffe blown out of the galaxy, that’s entirely her problem.”

Blanchard stared at the other woman, amazed at the change in the usually cool, aloof Vulcan. But then, she had only been in command of the ship a short time; perhaps this was merely a side to T’Ku’lhan that she had not encountered before. Carefully, she took a seat on the opposite side of the corridor, her back against the bulkhead. “Watch your tongue, Mister,” she warned. “I can’t believe Captain Livingston allowed you to speak to him like that.”

“He was far more deserving of my respect than you, I can assure you,” the Vulcan smirked. “However, let’s get back to the business at hand. As you have probably surmised by now, I am not whom I appear to be.” T’Ku’lhan’s form suddenly began to shimmer and to change shape. There, sitting across from the captain, was a statuesque Klingon woman in full battle armor. But, before Blanchard had time to react, the image of a Cardassian, and then a Romulan replaced it.

Blanchard jumped to her feet and took a few steps backward, her eyes wide with amazement. “Just what are you?” She was growing more alarmed with every passing moment.

What is this? Captain Blanchard, paralyzed by the effects of a strange alien weapon, suddenly finds herself under attack from one of her own crew as well. What is behind this new assault? Will she find a way to defeat this attacker, while her crew madly searches for a way to deal with the weapon that laid her low in the first place? Return here next week to find out.