Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 29 Jan 2004 21:46:16 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: daria@ameritech.net (Daria) Title: Loss Author: Daria Contact: Daria@ameritech.net Series: ENT Part: 4/8 Rating: [PG-13] Codes: Tu, R, A Summary: When an away mission goes wrong, a friendship is damaged, Archive: ASC* Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, so naturally I'm not making any money off them. Please do not link directly to this story without asking. *** Jonathan Archer was angry, and he didn't care who knew it. "They're being held where? Why did you arrest my people? We had permission to deal with the merchants, Commandant. We followed your protocols and registered with the government--" "Yes, yes, I know," the flustered Dorlogian on the screen agreed readily, his small teal ears twitching. "They weren't singled out. We were doing a routine security screening of the market. We catch a tremendous number of wanted pickpockets, arms traders, smugglers, and other criminals in these sweeps. It is an inconvenience to the shoppers, but they know it protects them, so they tolerate it. Again, I'm sorry that your people have been inconvienced. They will be released immediately." Archer forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. It was a terrible inconvenience, but if his people hadn't been harmed, it was excusable. His anger was a response to the concern for his missing crew. His worry when the away team hadn't reported back, had grown to fear when it had taken him three days to track them down. But he had to respect the way the Dorlogians provided for their security. They were, after all, on a major trade route, prone to a wide variety of criminal activity on their small plant--everything from large crime syndicates to petty criminals frequenting their renowned trade markets. From what he gathered, his away team had been about to be released. Their names had been found on the list of registered planetary visitors, and the local officials were happy to let them leave the overcrowded jail. "All right, Commandant Cournic. I'll be expecting them to be released immediately, with their purchases. We really do need to depart." "I understand, Captain Archer. I'll facilitate their departure myself," the fidgeting administrator assured him. "Good day." Archer exchanged a glance with T'Pol. "Well, that's a relief. They'll certainly have an interesting story." He chuckled. "Hoshi is probably in heaven, what with the chance to practice the language with all those Dorlogians." T'Pol shot him a skeptical look, and he chuckled again. "Okay, okay, I agree, jail is not the best place to practice a language. She probably won't be too happy. But she'll be okay." *** "Hoe-sheee," the word sounded odd coming from the Dorlogian. "Ma-weetherrr. Follow me." Hoshi rose and gestured to Travis, who hadn't understood the guard. "You're being released. You've been cleared as legitimate visitors. We apologize for the inconvenience, but understand that this is a necessary security precaution. There is a vehicle waiting to return you to your shuttle. Your captain is anxious for your return." The guard smiled at them while Hoshi translated for Mayweather. He handed them their personal possessions. The guard didn't seem a bad sort, Travis thought, as he activated his universal translator. Over the last few days they had chatted with him quite a bit. They had learned that he was married with two small daughters, and liked to garden in his free time. He had been as accommodating as he could to the group from the market, making sure they always had fresh water, and an adequate, if not generous, food supply. He had refused to provide a first aid kit, or to call a doctor, but they understood he was following his orders. As they began to follow him, Hoshi stopped short. "Wait. What about them?" she gestured at Reed, now lying on the wooden bench, and at Tucker, who remained balled up against the wall. "Oh, those are the criminals. I'm sorry you were forced to be in a cell with them, but we were short on space. I hope they didn't bother you." The guard looked around, checking to see if anyone else was listening, and then whispered conspiratorially to Hoshi, "I heard they're either spies or smugglers." Hoshi's eyes widened as she realized the implication. "No, no, no! That isn't true! They're with us. We all came to Dorlog together. They're our crewmates," she hastened to explain. An odd look crept over the guard's face-- part suspicion, part consternation, and part fear. "I'll have to double check the prisoner manifest. See if their identity has been confirmed." He was trying to herd them out of the cell. "We can't just leave without them," Travis interjected. "I'm sorry," the guard said firmly, but not without sympathy. "Your identities have been verified. You must leave. Your captain wants you back, and we don't want trouble. If we keep you any longer, he'll consider us to have kidnapped you." "He's going to be just as upset that you're keeping our crewmates," Hoshi snapped. "Not to mention the fact that they've been mistreated--" Travis interrupted her. "Do what you can to get them released," he instructed the guard. He grabbed Hoshi's arm. "Hoshi, let's go." He nodded to the guard to lead the way, and firmly urged Hoshi to follow. "You mentioned a vehicle?" *** The two off-worlders were gone. The guard had thought they were going to make trouble, but suddenly the tall young man seemed to have seen reason, and he had taken the woman with him. Good. He had to get to his superiors immediately. Had they made as big a mistake as he feared? He shuddered, and hurried down the corridor. *** "What's wrong with you, Travis?" Hoshi demanded as soon as they were out of earshot. She was livid. "We can't leave them here!" "I know Hoshi. I don't intend to leave them. But arguing with that guard wasn't going to do any good. Now we're free, and in a better position to help. First thing I'm going to do is contact the captain." Hoshi saw his logic, but she was still angry. It was easier than admitting how worried she was, especially about Malcolm. She wasn't entirely sure of the extent of his injuries; he'd tried to hide the pain, but she'd been able to see it in the tension of his body, and he'd groaned at the slightest movement. They had managed to help him move to the wooden bench, so he wasn't lying on the cold floor, but that had been all they'd been able to do for him. She feared he might be bleeding internally, or have a punctured lung. She tried not to think about that, or about how devastated Trip seemed. Grudgingly she agreed with Travis, and followed him to the vehicle that was waiting to return them to their shuttlepod. *** "Shuttlepod One to Enterprise," Travis was on the communicator almost as soon as he was inside the shuttlepod. "Travis! Good to hear from you, Ensign. Have you been released?" Mayweather let out a sigh of relief to hear the reassuring voice of his Captain. "Yes, sir, but--" "Well, get up here. You've had a long enough vacation..." the captain's tone was teasing. "Sir!" Travis interrupted, "We have a problem--" "Something wrong with the shuttlepod? We'll you've got our Chief Engineer with you. Trip, don't tell me you got arrested AND broke the shuttlepod on the same mission--" "Sir!" Travis was practically shouting, desperately trying to make Archer understand. "He's not here. He and Lieutenant Reed weren't released!" There was a moment of silence. "Please repeat that, Ensign." "Sir, they weren't released with us. Apparently, the guards thought they were criminals. Or spies. They didn't realize they were with us. We told them, and the guard said he'd check into it, but..." "But you don't know if he did. Is Hoshi with you?" "Yes, sir." "I want the two of you up here, now. I'll work on getting them released, but I don't want them deciding that you're spies, too." "Sir," Hoshi spoke up for the first time. "If we're not here, how will they get back to Enterprise? If their return is delayed waiting for a shuttlepod... I don't know if Lieutenant Reed can wait that long." "I don't understand." "Lieutenant Reed has been injured, sir. I don't know how, and I don't know how badly. But he needs medical attention as soon as possible." "What about Commander Tucker?" "We don't know, exactly, sir. He is hurt. His injuries don't appear quite as severe, but he was acting very oddly," Travis tried to explain. "Oddly?" "Captain, it's hard to explain," Hoshi put in. "But I wouldn't count on him initiating any action. Something is wrong with him." Hoshi thought she heard Archer sigh before he made the tough decision. "Ensign Sato, Ensign Mayweather, I want you to return to the ship immediately. The risk to you is too great. I don't know what these people are going to do when they realize there is an association between you and the 'spies' they've captured. They may realize their mistake and release Reed and Tucker, but on the other hand, they may think you're spies, too. I don't need four officers in prison, when I can reduce that number by half. Get up here. We'll be ready to return on a moment's notice, and we'll send Phlox down when we pick them up. I expect you up here immediately." They didn't like it. Archer had known they wouldn't, but he knew they would obey. He turned to the next order of business. "T'Pol, get me that damn Commandant again." *** They were alone now. All the Dorlogians had been released shortly after Hoshi and Travis had left. Reed was glad his younger crewmates were free, but it made him feel very alone. It had been nice to have people he trusted here with him. He trusted Commander Tucker, of course, but the commander wasn't speaking to him. He'd failed, and Trip couldn't forgive him for it. Reed sighed, trying to think of what he should be doing. He was an armory officer; it was his nature to think strategically. He needed to formulate a plan of action, consider escape possibilities, prepare for contingencies. But he was in no condition to make any sort of escape attempt. Frankly, if the guard left the door open for him, he wouldn't be able to take advantage. Reed wanted to sit up. He needed a drink of water for his sore throat, and his sadly abused body was becoming stiff; the coldness of the room didn't help. But his single attempt to make any significant movement had been very costly. When Hoshi and Travis had tried to help him sit up earlier, he had nearly passed out from the pain in his ribs. He didn't dare try again. He wished he could see. Not being able to determine where Trip was made him feel nervous, and even more alone. He reached up with his uninjured hand and tried to pry up an eyelid. It hurt, but he continued until he had managed to open a narrow slit. It wasn't much, but at least he could see a little bit. He could make out the bucket of water Hoshi and Travis had left nearby. He was so thirsty. He tried to grab the bucket, but it was just out of reach. To get it he would have to sit up. He considered the effort it would take and abandoned the idea. By turning his head slightly and squinting through the narrow opening under his left eyelid, he could see much of the cell, including Commander Tucker. Trip was huddled on the bench, his arms wrapped protectively around his head, which were drawn up to his chest. He didn't seem to have noticed Reed's activities. Malcolm considered trying to get his attention and asking for assistance in getting the desired drink of water, but he was afraid of the response he might get. Exhausted, he managed to doze again. *** Trip had been aware of Reed's struggles. Peeking out from under his arms, he'd been trying to decide what to say to Reed, how he might approach him. When Reed had refused to ask his help, even though he obviously needed it, Trip had despaired. 'He's so disgusted with me, he won't ask for my help,' Trip thought. 'I don't blame him. He must hate me.' Trip kept his head down, so Reed never saw the agony on the engineer's face. *** "Commandant, I've lost my patience." Archer's voice was low and controlled, but left no doubt that he was furious. "Two of my crew have not been returned, and I'm told they've been injured, perhaps seriously. I want an explanation, and I want them back. Now." "Captain, I am so sorry. Really. They were picked up in a shop well known for attracting a criminal element; in fact we suspect the merchant there of being a central figure in a smuggling syndicate. Combined with the fact that they were clearly off-worlders, and were asking highly technical questions... the officers misidentified them. It was an honest error, Captain." 'An honest error?' Archer thought skeptically, but he put it aside for the moment. "I can understand that, Commandant," he said through gritted teeth. "What I don't understand is how they came to be injured, and why they haven't been released yet." "Captain, they were simply questioned. They may have sustained some minor injuries but they were never in any danger, I assure you." Archer wanted to argue that point. Hoshi had described Reed's condition, and while they might not be life threatening, his injuries certainly weren't 'minor' either. And something was very wrong with Trip. Arguing wasn't going to help at this point, though. "Fine, Commandant. I'll accept your explanation. What I want to know is when I can pick up my officers. I have a shuttle ready to come for them. Have you released them yet?" The Commandant cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "We're waiting on verification from our headquarters. I expect it immediately. You can come down now, Captain, and the minute the verification is received they'll be released to you." "Where will they be?" "Well... it might be easiest if they're allowed to stay where they are..." the Dorlogian hedged. 'In other words, you can't move them into a public place without exposing yourself to quite a bit of embarrassment,' Archer thought, but restrained himself from making a biting reply. "Fine," he spat out. "I'll be down with a shuttlepod within the hour. I'll be bringing my doctor with me. I assume you'll have our landing permissions processed, and have us registered as planetary visitors? And please transmit the official documentation, so I'll have that available. I don't want any more errors, if you don't mind." "Of course, of course," the alien tittered. "They'll be ready." He disappeared from the screen. Archer shook his head. "I'll be going myself. T'Pol, you've got the bridge. Have the doctor meet me at the launch bay." T'Pol simply nodded, knowing the futility of arguing with the Captain. *** Trip raised his head slightly when the door opened. He felt a brief flash of fear. He didn't recognize the guard as one of his tormentors, but that didn't mean much. This guard, however, looked hesitant. He was carrying clothing, a bucket of water, and cloths. He handed one set of clothes to Trip, and dropped the other next to the sleeping Reed. "Put these on," the guard muttered. Trip, without his translator, had no idea what had been said. The guard seemed to realize this. He left, returning in less than a minute with the communicator. He gestured for Trip to activate it. The guard spoke again, and this time Trip understood him perfectly. "Put these clothes on, and clean up. You're being released. Get the other one to change, too." "No," Trip replied, and enjoyed the look of surprise on the guard's face. He was not in the mood to do anything the Dorlogians wanted; obviously the situation had become embarrassing for them, and they wanted and needed their captive's cooperation. Trip had no intention of giving it. It was obvious Reed couldn't move enough to clean up and change, and the last thing Trip was going to do was add to the armory officer's discomfort, just to satisfy their captors. 'If they want Malcolm to change, they can do it themselves,' he thought defiantly-- and then belatedly realized that if the guards did decide to force Reed to change, they probably wouldn't be too gentle. With this realization, Trip started toward Reed to help him, glaring at the watching guard all the while. *** Reed had been dozing, but when the guard spoke he woke. Like Trip, he was momentarily seized with fear, so he feigned sleep. He heard the guard announce they were being released and instruct Trip to change clothes, and he heard Trip refuse. His heart sunk, and he felt a chill. Trip was so angry, hated him so much, that he wouldn't even help him do what was needed to get out of here. Reed wanted to protest, to tell Trip he'd done his best, but he knew it wouldn't do any good. Besides, Trip was right. It was only natural that the engineer was disgusted and angry. He would just have to live with that now. Maybe, some day, Trip would give him a chance to explain. The voice startled Reed. At first he didn't recognize it-- it was so cold, so devoid of the humor and warmth it normally carried. "Lieutenant Reed. They want us to change clothes. I'll help you." Malcolm was stung by the hard frost in that voice. It hurt to hear that coldness directed at him. He responded instinctively, protectecting himself. "That's all right, Commander. I'll manage." Trip was taken aback. He hadn't really expected Malcolm to reject his help. He had harbored a hope that this could be a first step toward attempting to repair the damage that had been done. But Malcolm made it clear that wasn't to be. Not that Trip blamed his crewmate for not wanting him anywhere near. Silently Trip backed away. Reed struggled to pull himself up enough to tear off his sweat and blood stained shirt with his one functioning hand, but it took too much of an effort and he slumped back, breathing in pained gasps. Trip watched, his heart aching. It turned his stomach to watch his friend-- ex-friend he reminded himself--in pain. When Reed braced himself to try again, Trip couldn't stop himself from speaking. "Lieutenant, this is ridiculous. You can't do that yourself. Forget changing. I'm not doing anything they want. They're going to release us anyway." Trip glared at the guard as he said this, trying to judge the reaction; the guard simply looked confused at the rebellion. Reed didn't respond, but he knew Trip was right. Besides, it hurt too much to keep trying. Wordlessly he dropped the shirt. *** "Commandant, no more excuses. Where are they?" Archer's tone held a hint of danger that made the Dorlogian nervous. Next to him Phlox remained silent. "We're just giving them some... refreshment. They'll be out momentarily." The commandant rubbed his hands together briskly and glanced around not meeting Archer's eyes. He smiled with relief when the chief guard entered. The guard glanced at Archer and Phlox, and then whispered in to his superior's ear. It was almost comical, the way the commandant's shoulders slumped in defeat, his ears turning from turquoise to red. He looked up at the tall human in front of him. "They aren't ready. They... they won't get ready. Just go get them!" He gestured at the door with frustration. Archer didn't understand what was going on, but being pointed toward his men was all he needed. *** They found the cell door open. Archer barged in, and then stopped short, taking in the scene. Trip was sitting in one corner of the cell, knees drawn up to his chest, shaking his head and glaring defiantly at a guard who was pleading with him. He was filthy. Dried blood was caked on his face, and Archer could see bruising and several odd marks on his exposed chest. He had obviously been mistreated. On the opposite side of the cell Reed lay silently on a wooden bench that lined the wall, staring at the ceiling. His clothes, too, were torn and filthy. However his apparel was not Archer's concern. Reed looked even worse than Trip. The armory officer had obviously been beaten; his torso was covered with bruises, and his face was as bad. Both eyes seemed to be swollen closed. Archer felt rage welling up and forced himself to take a deep breath, to maintain control. His primary goal was to get his men out of here. As he continued to observe them, his brow furrowed with concern. The tension in the room was palpable. Trip was as far away from Reed as he could manage. It struck Archer as wrong, and he remembered Hoshi and Travis's warnings that the engineer was acting strangely. Trip spotted him. "Captain!" he exclaimed, the relief evident in his rough voice. Reed turned his head, and Archer could see that one eye was very slightly open. Reed managed a tiny smile. "I knew Hoshi and Travis would clear this mess up," he whispered, although the only words that were clear to Archer were 'Hoshi' 'Travis' and 'mess'. "Yes, they did a good job of letting me know the situation," Archer said, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. 'Come on, let's get you guys home. I'm sure you don't want to stay here any longer." "No, sir," Trip replied, but his voice had a deadness to it. Reed flinched at Trip's tone. The small smile faded, and the eye closed. 'Something is very wrong here,' Archer thought, looking back and forth between the two men. 'Very wrong.' Phlox either didn't notice the undercurrent of tension, or he didn't care. He moved to Reed's side, knelt beside him, and scanned him quickly then nodded to himself. "I'm going to give you a painkiller and muscle relaxant, Lieutenant. We won't try to move you until it takes effect," he promised. He emptied two hyposprays into the side of Reed's neck, and then rose and went to Trip. After scanning him as well, he pulled out another hypospray. Trip resisted. "Doctor, I'm not in much pain anymore. Just a little sore." "You need this, Commander. I'm not going to argue with you." Phlox didn't mention he was more concerned with Trip's mental state than his physical one. He intended to administer a neurochemical balancing medication as well as a painkiller. Trip tried to argue, but the captain intervened. "Trip, you're not in any condition to make decisions. Listen to the doctor." Trip opened his mouth to protest one more time but was again interrupted, this time by Reed. "I'd like to get out of here now, if you don't mind," Malcolm said, and even though the words were indistinct, their meaning was clear enough. "Excellent idea!" Phlox smiled. He injected Trip before he could resist further, and then went to assist the armory officer. He helped Reed to a sitting position, and then slid Malcolm's arm over his shoulder and carefully helped the younger man stand. It was evident that despite Phlox's ministrations Reed was still in pain. "We need to go, Captain," Phlox stated. Archer was only too happy to comply. He went to Trip and helped his friend to his feet, remaining next to him, ready to lend a hand if needed. They exited as a group, moving slowly. *** "Oh, Captain, I see you've found your men." Commandant Cournic joined them as they made their way down the stone corridor. "Excellent. So you'll be leaving now, I take it?" Archer threw him a scorching glance. "Yes. We'll be departing now, Commandant. I need to get my men medical attention." The captain's voice was caustic. "Now, Captain, really... their conditions aren't serious..." Reed lifted his head to stare at the commandant through his usable eye, his jaw dropping with amazement at the statement, but he didn't say anything. It would have been a waste of energy, and he didn't have any to waste right now. Trip actually took a step toward the commandant before Archer reached out a restraining hand. Not that police officer was in any danger. Trip was barely able to walk alone. "Come on, guys. We're leaving. Commandant, inform your government we will be departing orbit immediately." Archer took control of the situation before the scene could get any more ugly. He just wanted his armory officer and engineer safely back on his ship. *** Archer and the former prisoners were gone. Commandant Cournic turned to the guards gathered around him in his office. The formerly affable leader's affect had changed entirely, and the guards could see in him the hardness and steel that had allowed him to reach his current position. His eyes were cold, hard, as he stared around the room, meeting each of their eyes. The guards dropped their heads, watching their feet. "I want to know," the Commandant snarled, "who is responsible for this error?" He scowled at the contingent, none of whom would look at him. The guard closest to the door shuffled his feet, and then made a decision. He lifted his eyes and defiantly met his superiors gaze. "We were just following our orders." "Whose orders?" "The Director's. We told him they'd been taken at the market, but he said they were spies, dangerous. They were caught at Cooman's shop. Redhanded! The Director told us what he wanted to know." The guard shrugged. "He said to get the information, whatever it took." "And he didn't bother to check their identities? Or check their stories? He just arrested and questioned two visiting officers from one of the most powerful Starships ever to visit Dorlog? We're lucky we aren't at war with these people!" The guard shrugged again. "You know how the Director can be." Commandant Cournic sighed, his ears turning from black to deep blue. He did know. "Not a word of this. Not to anyone. It never happened." "But, sir... Cooman's people will be asking after him." "Not a word! I'll tidy up the loose ends, and report this to the Mayor. I have a feeling the Director will be 'stepping down' from his position. Now, back to your duties, and again, I warn you, not a word if you value your jobs." *** The shuttlepod was a mercifully short distance away. When they reached it, Trip climbed in gingerly, trying to protect his injured ribs and to ignore his still pounding head. He turned to help, but the captain and Phlox had already assisted Reed in. The doctor scrambled to arrange the seats into couches, and within a few minutes Reed had been made more comfortable. Trip watched in silence, ignoring his own aching body. "Commander, why don't you lie down, too?" the doctor suggested, gesturing at the seats on the other side of the shuttle. Trip shook his head in negation. "Trip," Archer called from the front of the shuttlepod. "Are you feeling well enough to help me?" "Ummm, Captain, I don't think that is a very good idea. Some of the medication I gave Commander Tucker is very powerful. It probably hasn't taken full affect yet. You don't want a co-pilot who falls asleep at the controls, now do you?" Phlox interjected. "No, I guess I don't. Trip, sit or lie wherever you're most comfortable. If you want to sit up here we can talk." Trip's stomach clenched. He didn't want to talk. Not to Archer, not to Phlox, and not to Reed. Certainly not to Reed. What could he say? He had been feeling better-- probably due to whatever Phlox had pumped him full of-- but now he was tense again. Reluctantly he took the co-pilot's seat, wondering how he could avoid the conversation he was sure the captain wanted to have. Reed was unaware of any of this. Upon reaching the safety of the shuttle, and the haven of the soft couches, he had surrendered to the painkillers and allowed a pain-free darkness to claim him. Phlox watched it happen. Once there was no danger of causing pain to his patient he began a more thorough examination than he'd been able to conduct in the cell. He winced at each new injury he found, but ultimately decided his patient's life was in no danger. He left the sleeping officer and went to the front of the shuttlepod. "Lieutenant Reed will be all right. He'll need time to recuperate, but eventually should recover fully. Commander, I'd like to take a better look at you now." Archer relaxed at the news that Reed would recover. He noticed that Trip, who had managed to fight off what the doctor had intended to be a large dose of tranquilizer, didn't. Archer was puzzled. He had assumed Trip's tension was due to concern over Reed's injuries and the uncertainty of his condition-- but even learning his crewmate's life was not in danger hadn't relaxed him. "How bad is he hurt, Doc?" Trip asked, ignoring the suggestion that the doctor examine him. Archer realized this was the first time Trip had spoken since leaving the cell. The engineer's voice had a harsh, rough sound. Phlox considered the issue of patient confidentiality, but decided he was just explaining what they had seen for themselves. "Well, let's see. His right hand is broken-- all four fingers, and a bone in the back of the hand. Obviously he has two black eyes, but I don't think there is any damage to the orbits. His mandible is cracked-- but I won't have to set it. He has several cracked ribs, two broken ones, and he's generally bruised. There are some other minor injuries, but I'll worry about those back on the ship. He has some rather odd little burns, too. I don't know what caused those, but they must be painful." Phlox sounded too cheerful to be discussing the injuries of a crewmate. Archer had to remind himself that the doctor's intonation was due to his cultural heritage, and didn't really reflect happiness. As he listened to the doctor's report, Archer began to truly despise the Dorlogians. He glanced at Trip. "And what is Mr. Tucker's condition?" The doctor, who had been discreetly conducting an examination, hesitated. He looked at Trip for permission. Trip said nothing. Archer watched the engineer from the corner of his eye while he navigated the shuttlepod. He didn't understand what was going on, and he didn't like not knowing. "Trip?" Trip turned to look at the captain, and for the first time Archer realized just how lost his friend looked. Phlox looked back and forth between the two as they locked eyes. When Trip finally dropped his head and nodded, Phlox spoke. "Commander Tucker, you have a deep head laceration and a concussion. Fortunately, there was no bleeding on your brain. You have three cracked ribs, and various strained muscles, particularly in your neck, and severe bruising. And... Commander, let me see your hand." Phlox took Trip's left hand and scanned it more closely. "Hmmm, you have a badly sprained wrist. And those odd little burns. Commander, would you care to enlighten me about what caused those?" "No, I wouldn't." "It would make it easier for me to treat them." "Don't need treating. Ask Malcolm, if you're that curious." "Mr. Reed is very soundly asleep. I'd like to tend to them before he wakes. It would be more comfortable." Guilt. They would use his guilt against him. They couldn't know, could they? What had the commandant told them? Trip relented. "I don't know for sure, doctor. They had a heated metal rod..." His voice trembled and broke. He turned to stare out the shuttlepod viewscreen, not finishing. Archer forced himself to, once again, wrestle his own emotions back under control as he watched his friend repetitively clenching and unclenching his fists, trying to cope with the nearly unbearable strain. Archer was distressed by Trip's mental state, by the way he was clearly distancing himself from them. Archer needed to know what had happened to his officers but neither Trip, nor the unconscious Reed, was likely to be shedding light anytime soon. Archer drew a deep breath. He would have to be patient, and being patient was something he was notoriously bad at. *** Doctor Phlox normally enjoyed the quiet hours of the evening, when much of the ship was sleeping. Tonight, however, the quiet hours hadn't been quiet at all. First, the captain had paged him three times in an hour. That was a bit excessive, the doctor thought, but understandable. Then Commander Tucker had finally obeyed the order to come to sickbay, where he had stood just inside the door, refusing to enter any further. He simply stared across the room to where Reed was sleeping. "He'll be fine, Commander," Phlox had assured him. "Oh, yeah?" Trip had challenged him in a low voice. "How do you know that? You don't know what happened down there. What makes you think you know how he'll react? You don't know him that well." "True," the doctor replied, unperturbed. "But I know what it takes to be a Starfleet officer. I know what it took to get selected to be on this crew. There isn't a person on this ship who can't overcome great adversity. I have great confidence that Mr. Reed will be fine. And so will you, Commander. But I wish you'd let me help you. You still need medical treatment. I allowed you to stop at your quarters with the understanding you would report to sickbay immediately after that." The doctor's voice softened. "I know you're in pain. I can help. I'd like to treat those burns, if nothing else, so they don't become infected." "They won't." "Oh, you're a doctor now, too? Really, Commander, you aren't setting a good example--" It was the wrong thing to say. Trip wheeled on him with unexpected ferocity. "Who says I want to be a good example? I can't always be. I'm just a human guy doing the best I can out here, and I... I..." he stopped, his face reddened. He knew he should apologize to the doctor, but he couldn't, not now. He turned to storm out, but a strong arm caught him. "Commander. I didn't want to push this issue, but you won't cooperate. I'm keeping you here on a medical hold until you allow me to finish treatment." Trip huffed at this, and started to protest, but he knew it was futile. Besides, what did he care? What did any of it matter? He'd be debriefed soon, and everyone would know what had happened. So what was the point in fighting now? "Fine." The word was curt. The doctor took advantage of his sudden cooperation and led him towards the biobed next to Reed's, but the engineer balked. "No. Not this one. Not here." "This is the most convenient location," the doctor tried. "No, Doc. Either let me move, or call security to keep me here." With that, Trip crossed sickbay to the corner furthest from the biobed where Reed slept. He climbed on it, trying not to jar his ribs. He stared at the far wall, refusing to look at either Phlox or the sleeping armory officer. Phlox decided that compromising on the biobed choice was a small price to pay to keep security out of sickbay. He picked up some balm, a hypospray, and a few other supplies and went to the engineer. Trip observed this preparation with trepidation. "What's all that for?" he asked. "Relax, Commander. Lie down, please. Oh, take your shirt off first." Trip obeyed, eyeing the doctor warily. Phlox noted the engineer's nervousness; Trip had never seemed particularly fearful in sickbay before. But he was more concerned about the burns on the engineer's chest. He gently covered them with the balm. "Commander, this is an anesthetic and antibacterial balm. It should prevent infection, and relieve the discomfort." He took another medication and applied it to the bruises. He wrapped Trip's torso tightly to support the cracked ribs. He examined the laceration on the engineer's head, and pronounced it in need of dermasealing, an action he quickly performed. He applied yet another cream, and a bandage, and conducted a quick neurological exam. He stood back to observe his work, smiling at his patient. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" There was no response. Phlox continued studying his patient, mentally noting the downcast eyes and depressed affect. He was trying to think of something encouraging to say when he heard muttering from the other biobed. "No." The word was somewhat muffled but still clear enough. "No. Please. I don't know. I truly don't know!" The last words were pleading, the fear clear. Phlox was looking at Trip when Reed started speaking, and he saw the blood drain from the engineer's face. He made a quick mental note of the reaction and then hurried to the other biobed to try to wake Reed from the nightmare. He turned back to Trip, meaning to ask a question, but the engineer was gone. *** When Trip left sickbay, he didn't know where he was heading. All he knew was that he had to get out of sickbay, away from the reminder of his crime. He didn't want to see anyone, and hoped that he wouldn't encounter any of his engineering crew in the hallways. He had a sudden desire to find Travis's favorite hideout, the "sweet spot" on the ship, but climbing through access tubes was a physical impossibility at the moment. In fact, he'd be fortunate to get to his own quarters safely. He had shunned all help from the moment they had returned to Enterprise. He'd watched as Malcolm had been gently loaded onto a gurney, but refused any assistance offered to him. The truth was he hurt everywhere, he was dizzy, and even the short walk through Enterprise's corridors was making him feel faint. He still hadn't eaten. How long had it been now? There had been some doughy bread-like sticks that Hoshi had insisted he eat at one point back in the cell, but that was all. Thinking about eating made his stomach growl, and he could no longer deny the hunger. Despite not wanting to face the crowd, he headed toward the messhall. *** "Commander! It's good to see you!" Travis spotted him as he entered the messhall, his enthusiastic greeting ruining Trip's plan to grab something and escape unnoticed. Heads turned, and suddenly crewman surrounded him. They were smiling, putting their hands on his shoulder, welcoming him back. He flinched as the crowd jostled him. "Welcome back, sir" "Good to have you back!" "How are you feeling, sir?" "When will you be back on duty, sir?" The voices blurred together, as he saw their happy, smiling faces. They were obviously delighted to see him. 'What would they think if they knew the truth?' he wondered. He swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat, as he realized how much he would miss the camaraderie and the friendships. "It's great to see you guys," he said, trying to keep the emotion from his voice. "But I have to go now." He backed up, working his way out of the crowd until he could make his escape. He didn't notice Hoshi studying him from across the room. *** Hoshi watched as Trip left without food. She knew how hungry he must be-- even though she'd been fairly well fed in the jail, it had still been a prison ration. She'd returned to the ship ravenous. He hadn't been fed at all during the first three days of imprisonment, and as near as she could tell, he hadn't eaten since. Travis noticed Hoshi staring at the food choices. "Not finding what you want? I know where you can get some wonderfully doughy breadsticks," he joked. She smiled at him, appreciating his attempt to lighten her mood. She knew he was worried, too. "Commander Tucker left without dinner. I don't think he's eaten yet. Do you think the captain knows?" "I doubt it. Do you want to take him some food?" Hoshi nodded. "Any suggestions?" "He likes meatloaf." "Travis, you don't eat meatloaf, especially not resequenced meatloaf, when you haven't eaten in days." "I guess not." Travis considered the potential selections. "How about some pudding, and some soup, and maybe some mashed potatoes?" Hoshi rolled her eyes at the odd combination, but Travis was already preparing a tray. *** Trip stared at the barely touched plate. It had been kind of them to bring it to him. He managed a slight smile as he remembered Travis stumbling through an explanation of the odd combination of foods, which had grown to include a slice of pecan pie. He just wished he could eat it. He had picked at it enough to satisfy them, and then he'd convinced them to leave so he could rest. Rest. The idea was like a cruel joke. He couldn't close his eyes without the images crowding in; they replayed in his mind over and over again. And now the soundtrack of Reed's nightmare had been added. He lay on his soft, comfortable bunk hearing the softly pleading words over and over. When he could bear it no longer, Trip struggled to his feet, donned a clean uniform and resolutely headed toward the captain's cabin. *** -- Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ Yahoo! Groups Links To visit your group on the web, go to:http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ASCL/ To unsubscribe from this group, send an email to:ASCL-unsubscribe@yahoogroups.com Your use of Yahoo! Groups is subject to the Yahoo! Terms of Service. From ???@??? 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