Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 31 Jan 2004 14:53:50 -0800 In: alt.startrek.creative From: daria@ameritech.net (Daria) Title: Loss Author: Daria Contact: Daria@ameritech.net Series: ENT Part: 6/8 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. A/N: I should have mentioned at that start of this story that it is set prior to the the third season. I apologize if this post shows up twice. I thought I'd posted it, but don't see it and the next parts have already appeared, so I'm resending it. *** Archer surveyed his bridge. All was running smoothly, a situation that while not unique was not yet commonplace on this still-new mission. Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather were at their accustomed positions, quietly working. Ensign Baylo was substituting at the tactical station. T'Pol was in engineering conferring with Lt. Hess, trying to get some information or other about the latest evaluation of warp core efficiency. She would stop by the armory next, to check on operations there. Archer had given her the responsibility of keeping an eye on those major divisions while their chiefs were unavailable. All things considered, the ship was functioning well. There was nothing that demanded Archer's immediate attention, which gave him time to think and reflect upon the recent events. Lieutenant Reed remained medically off-duty. Malcolm's injuries were healing well, but he was hindered by the inability to use his right hand, and he still moved with great gingerness and tired easily. Archer could see exhaustion in Reed's face and eyes every time he spoke with him. Archer suspected the tactical officer wasn't sleeping well, although whether that was the result of pain, or had another cause, he didn't know; Reed certainly wasn't telling. The captain had stopped by to visit every day of the two weeks Reed had been off duty, and while Malcolm was unfailingly polite and proper he was unwilling to have any conversation that moved beyond trivialities. A blank stare was the standard response to any question that bordered on personal; Archer had finally given up trying to get the taciturn officer to confide in him, but he continued to stop by Reed's quarters every evening. Reed was beginning to chafe at the forced inactivity. Archer knew he had to let him do something useful, or risk having the armory officer go mad with boredom. Against the doctor's vigorous protests, the captain had agreed to allow Reed to do limited work from his quarters. Commander Tucker was another matter entirely. Trip was devastated. Despite Archer's reassurances and attempts to point out that ultimately it was the Dorlogians who were responsible for the ordeal on the planet, not the engineer, Trip continued to blame himself. His guilt and regret made him unwilling to face the crew or his friends; the engineer had virtually disappeared from the ship. Despite Archer urging him to talk to Reed, Trip remained unable to face his crewmate; in his attempt to avoid the armory officer, he stayed away from all the normal gathering places on the ship. Reed wasn't helping the situation. Unlike Trip, whose anger would have been explosive but short lived, Reed's anger was kept carefully confined-- but it was a definable, palpable presence whenever Trip's name was mentioned. Trip couldn't have missed noticing it on the few occasions they had encountered each other. Archer was at a loss as to how to help his officers, especially Trip. He had considered and rejected several options before finally deciding to keep the engineer off duty. He hadn't wanted to; he knew Trip needed to be doing something useful, needed the work and distractions to help put the events on Dorlog into the past, but Archer couldn't, in good conscience, allow the engineer to return to duty in his current state. And, if he was honest with himself, Archer had to admit his decision was partially influenced by a desire to not add to Malcolm's ire. Seeing Trip return to duty while he was forced to remain inactive might flame the armory officer's smoldering anger into a full-blown conflagration, dooming any attempt to salvage the friendship. The captain's decision was made easier by the doctor's insistence that Trip shouldn't be on full duty. So Archer kept the engineer off duty, checking on his friend daily. It was this state of affairs Archer was contemplating, wishing he had a better solution, when Hoshi broke into his thoughts. "Captain, we're receiving a transmission. It's directed to you." Hoshi's voice became tense. "Sir, it's from Dorlog." Archer immediately stood. "Direct it to my quarters." Before Hoshi could acknowledge the command, the captain was in the lift. *** "Commandant," Archer greeted the Dorlogian icily. He knew he should be polite, but he couldn't force false civility into his tone. "Captain," the commandant replied. His tone was apologetic. "I'm sorry to disturb you. I just thought-- well, there have been some developments here on Dorlog, and I think we owe you an explanation. I'm glad we were able to contact you before you were out of communications range." Archer nodded his acknowledgement. "What developments?" The commandant sighed, and Archer noticed that while the official seemed unhappy, the anxious nervousness that had characterized the alien in the past was less noticeable. "It's about Director Corzac. I thought you might want to know that he has been arrested." Archer was taken by surprise. "Arrested? For what he did to my men?" The commandant shook his head, and Archer noted distractedly that the alien's ears had turned a lime-green. "No. Well, not directly. The incident with your men was contributory. Maybe I should start from the beginning. As you have already learned, we have a significant problem on Dorlog with smuggling and syndicated crime. We treat it harshly, but the fact remains that smuggling is lucrative. What you may not have realized was within the structure of our government, the director and I are equals. My responsibility, as Police Commandant, is to maintain law and order among the citizens of Dorlog, and attend to civil matters. The Director of Protective Forces Special Security Unit, has the responsibility of protecting Dorlog from outside influences: spies, smugglers and other off-world influences, and planetary security. As you might imagine, our jobs frequently overlap. Although it is my men that conduct the preventive sweeps, if they find anything that appears to fall under his purview, the director is notified. That is how he became involved with your men. And.... well, the director was abusing his position. Or, more acurately, he was using it. We had suspected for some time that he was unduly interested in smuggling activities, to the neglect of his other duties. It wasn't until very recently that I began to suspect he might be involved himself. We have discovered he was working with one of the more powerful syndicates, and using his position to extract information from 'competitors'. He believed your men were working with another syndicate. Or maybe he wanted to find a way to get the information on your weapons to sell-- we're not entirely sure. He's not been very forthcoming. In any event, it was for his own personal reasons that he questioned your men. The guards, with the exception of one individual, were unaware of his private agenda. They believed they were following legal orders. Captain, I was unaware of the situation. I had no idea that your men were being treated so badly, until it was too late. When I realized what had happened, I began an investigation and his activities were revealed. I just want you to know how very sorry we are for this incident, and to offer an official apology on behalf of the Dorlogian government." Archer blinked, dumbfounded. This was the last thing he had expected; he had believed the commandant complicit in the way Reed and Tucker had been treated. He hadn't given the man enough credit. "The merchants... the one that was killed, and the one that escaped... what about them?" The commandant shook his head in apparent frustration. "Corman has not been recaptured. Cooman-- we still don't know precisely what his level of involvement was. We're suspicious that Corzac arranged events that day to gain access to your men. He was the one that scheduled the preventive sweeps, and he would have no difficulty getting the information on who was scheduled to visit the planet. We have no proof, or even strong evidence of this, merely a suspicion. It may have been simply a fortuitous coincidence for him. We just don't know. But he was a dangerous man, in a position that made him even more dangerous." Archer, still feeling stunned, managed a response. "Thank you for this information, Commandant. I'm glad you were able to rid your government of him." "There is one other thing, Captain. We were able to confiscate all his records, including the information he gathered from your men. I'll transmit that data to you. We don't know if he had the chance to distribute it. As soon as you receive the transmission, we will destroy our copies, in deference to your privacy and the security of your classified information. There will be no record on Dorlog of the information." Archer felt a little ashamed of the harsh thoughts he had directed toward the Dorlogians. The commandant was clearly doing everything he could to right the wrongs that had been done, and that was all anyone could reasonably expect. "Commandant, I appreciate the measures you've taken. Word of the director's arrest will be good news to my crew. Knowing what information might possibly have made it into other hands will help us take defensive measures. Thank you." The commandant bowed his head once in brief acknowledgement. "I appreciate your understanding. I wish you safe travel. And please extend my apologies to your officers." As Archer promised to do so, the connection was broken. The captain stood in front of the terminal for some time, absorbing what he had just heard. It was a lot to take in at once. Almost hesitant, he accessed the information the commandant had transmitted. It seemed like an invasion of his officers' privacy to read the file, to see the information they had been forced to divulge, but Archer needed to know. He leaned forward, peering at the screen. *** When he finished reading the file, Archer leaned back in his chair, not seeing the screen, but instead the scenes his imagination had created from Corzac's harsh and scornful reports. The files were not simply a list of information, but a detailed report of how the information had been extracted. In his mind he could see the cold and dreary place his officers had been held, and what had transpired there. He shook his head, rousting himself. He mentally debated how to handle the excruciatingly sensitive information he had just read. He was conflicted, torn between two sets of responsibilities, two sets of loyalties. He had a duty to Starfleet; they were owed a full report. And yet to make public, even if only to a handful of top Starfleet officials, the intensely personal details of the interrogations would be a gross invasion of his officers' privacy, one more wound inflicted on his injured men. He found himself wishing the commandant hadn't provided the information. But that was a futile wish. The commandant had provided the information, and he had to deal with the situation as it existed. Archer turned weary eyes back to the screen, and as repulsive as he found it, began reading the file again. *** An agonized hour later, still unsure if it was the right thing to do, Archer entered a series of commands in the computer, and deleted the recently transmitted file from the Starfleet database. *** Hoshi stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork. Travis looked up from his own meal. "What did the broccoli do?" "What?" Hoshi asked, looking up. "Oh. Oh, nothing. The broccoli is an innocent bystander. I was just thinking about something else." "Doesn't seem like it was very pleasant. You okay, Hoshi?" There was concern in Travis's voice. "Yes. No. I don't know. It just seems that everything has changed. All the tension, you know?" "You mean on the bridge?" "On the bridge, here, everywhere." She hesitated, undecided whether to say more. The last two weeks had been hard ones for the junior officers. After returning to Enterprise, Hoshi had thought things would return to normal. Certainly Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed would need time to heal, and Hoshi had harbored a fear that whatever was wrong with Trip wouldn't be easy to fix, but she had confidence that Phlox and Archer could handle the situation. She hadn't anticipated this situation. First, she hadn't been allowed to visit Reed in sickbay. All Archer or Phlox would tell her was that his life wasn't in danger, but he had requested no visitors be allowed. Since his release from sickbay he, like Trip, seemed to have performed a disappearing act, being seen in public only on rare occasion, and making excuses to send her away when she tried to visit his quarters. Trip had been even worse, refusing to even open the door and face her. When Hoshi looked up, Travis's brown eyes were filled with concern and warmth, encouraging her to continue. She paused for a moment, trying to organize her thoughts. "Travis, when I came on board, I was so nervous. I was afraid of everything. Remember?" Travis smiled, nodding. "I started to worry about what everyone else thought about me. I didn't want to show any fear, but I couldn't relax. I thought everyone would be judging me. But everyone was so supportive, and did everything they could to help me. I've become so comfortable on Enterprise. I feel so safe. I mean, I know space is dangerous, but I had begun to feel so personally safe. Not so afraid to just try things, you know? But now...everyone seems so tense. I just wish Malcolm and Trip were back on duty, so things would go back to normal." "Do you think that will happen?" Travis asked. "What do you mean? Of course they'll return to duty." "I know they'll return to duty. What I mean is, do you think things will go back to normal? I don't know what went on, but Hoshi have you seen them? If they accidentally run into each other, the temperature on the ship drops ten degrees. I don't know what's going on, but I don't think just going back on duty is going to fix it." Hoshi looked stricken, and Travis immediately regretted upsetting her more. "But I don't know, Hosh. It might be okay. I just wish I knew what had happened." Travis returned to his meal, wishing he had kept silent. They continued eating in silence for several minutes before Hoshi broke the silence. "Look." Travis glanced up to see what Hoshi was referring to. She nodded toward the messhall door. Reed had just entered. The armory officer didn't so much as look around, but went straight to the food line. The two ensigns watched as he selected a meal, carefully placing the food on his tray, balancing it precariously with his left hand. Only when he had the tray under control did he look up. He noticed the junior officers and gave them a small, tense smile, but that was all. Impulsively, wanting to make things normal, Hoshi called out to him. "Lieutenant, will you join us?" Reed looked around, as though seeking an escape, but he didn't decline. He worked his way through the crowded messhall to their table. Travis pushed a chair out for him and Reed sat stiffly, looking distinctly uncomfortable. It reminded Hoshi of how Malcolm had behaved when he'd first come aboard Enterprise, before he had come to think of his crewmates as friends. "How are you, Lieutenant?" Travis began, unable to think of anything else to say. "I'm fine, thank you, Ensign," Reed replied. For several seconds no one spoke. "I understand you're working on some security upgrades," Hoshi finally tried. This at least got a response. "Yes. I think I've found a way to rework the circuitry to the hull plating. If it works, it could increase the effectiveness of the hull polarization by quite a little bit." Reed warmed to the topic. "It might even increase the speed at which the hull polarizes, if I can tie it to the tactical alert." His voice trailed off, his eyes taking on a distant look, and Hoshi knew he was seeing new possibilities. It was the first sign of interest they'd seen from him in some time and Hoshi and Travis exchanged pleased looks that Reed was oblivious to. *** Trip was alone in his misery. For the engineer, the last two weeks had been sheer hell. Under normal circumstances, Trip was a very social creature, taking comfort in difficult times by being surrounded by people. Not this time. The prospect of being with people was intimidating, in a way he couldn't explain even to himself. Questions about his welfare, about how he was doing, and when he would return to duty, were more than he could face; even the thought made him queasy. He hadn't attended movie night, or Liz Cutler's birthday party, or any of the other myriad social gatherings held on the ship, and his absence was started to be commented on. He had been able to hide behind a medical excuse at first, using the need for sleep and healing, but that excuse was wearing thin, but he remained sequestered, his loneliness intensifying his unhappiness. He knew it wasn't healthy to spend all his time in his quarters, but he didn't know what else to do. He wasn't eating. The thought eating a meal by himself was unappealing, but the challenge of facing a full mess hall was too great. He'd lost weight. He went to the ship's gym at late and odd hours when the chances of encountering others was low. Exhausting himself by running and biking was the only way he could sleep without being haunted by the dreams. Trip didn't know how to purge his mind of the ugly thoughts and images, so he could sleep, or how to rid himself of the tormenting guilt that seemed to have become a part of every waking moment. He needed a distraction, to apply his mind to a specific problem with a real solution, to gain a respite from the mental prison he had created for himself. But the captain wouldn't let him return to duty, and wouldn't tell him when he would be allowed back to work. Trip knew what the captain wanted: a resolution. But it wasn't going to be that simple. The captain couldn't keep him off duty indefinately, could he? Archer visited every day. It was hard to fact the captain after his emotional confession, and while he appreciated his friend's visits he dreaded them as well. He dreaded the look of pained concern on Archer's face, but more than that he dreaded the question that came up every evening, without fail. Every time he would answer the question with a short shake of his head. No, he hadn't spoken with Malcolm. He couldn't. How the captain could fail to understand that, Trip did not know. He had occasionally encountered Malcolm on the rare occasions when he had ventured out of his quarters. Each time he had thought to say something, wanted to at least greet the lieutenant, but Reed was too quick-- he had given a polite nod, not meeting Trip's eyes, and then he had been past, gone before the engineer could summon the will to speak. While Reed was perfectly proper each time, Trip had the sensation that he had been burned by the heat of the armory officer's anger, laying just below the surface, threatening to break free of the fragile bonds keeping it in check. It occurred to Trip that if the captain saw him behaving normally, if he could show that he was ready for duty, the captain would have no choice but to allow him to return to work. For that hoped for opportunity he could force himself to face the crew. He needed to eat. The captain wouldn't let him return to duty if he wasn't healthy, so he knew he would have to find a way to eat, find a way to sleep. The last time he'd been in sickbay, a visit ordered by the doctor after he failed to show up for the routine follow-up for his injuries, Phlox had offered him an anti-depressant. He had refused. Now, he considered that he might allow the doctor to give him a sleep aide, if he was unable to get rest on his own. He wanted to return to work, to perform his duties, to begin to attempt, somehow, to make recompense for his actions on Dorlog. To do that he needed to take action. With more determination and focus than he had managed to muster in the previous two weeks, he left his quarters. *** Travis glanced up just as Trip entered the messhall and began to make his way to the food line. Malcolm was telling them about the way the upgrades to the tactical alert could be tied into helm control, to allow for an autopilot function. His back to the door, he didn't notice the engineer. Travis was pleased that they had managed to draw the armory officer out of his shell a little bit. Warmed by the success, and the small step toward normality, he made a rash decision. "Commander, would you join us?" he called across the messhall. The reaction was immediate. Reed's head snapped up violently, his entire body stiffening. He turned quickly in his chair to face Trip and their eyes locked. For an instant, Travis and Hoshi saw undisguised rage in Malcolm's eyes-- and then he lowered his head, regaining control. When he looked up again, his eyes were hard stones, but the frightening fury was gone. *** Trip hadn't really wanted to be noticed. He'd made his way through the corridors, managing to smile and nod at the crewman who greeted him, feeling his resolution slipping. 'Just grab a sandwich, smile at the crew, and discreetly leave. Just be seen behaving normally,' he told himself. 'This is not a big deal.' And he'd managed to convince himself that it was true, until Travis's ill-timed invitation. If he'd imagined he been burned by Reed's anger when they had crossed paths before, he knew he'd been scorched this time. When he locked eyes with Malcolm, for an instant, just the barest instant, he had thought they might communicate, that Reed might see the apology in his eyes, might understand. That fleeting hope was crushed almost immediately as he'd been seared by the look in Reed's eyes, the armory officer's emotions all too clear. And then Malcolm had looked down, breaking the connection. "I think... I think I'll just grab a bite and take it with me," Trip stammered. He snatched a sandwich off the food line and fled the messhall. *** For a moment, no one at the table spoke. Reed abruptly stood, breaking the silence. "I think I'll be leaving as well. Thank you for the invitation." He, too, left with amazing speed, never having touched his meal. Travis sat silent, overwhelmed by the rapidity with which things had gone wrong. Finally he turned to Hoshi. "I don't think things will be returning to normal very soon," he said sadly. *** Reed paced the short length of his quarters, undeterred by having to turn every few steps, or by the discomfort he was causing himself. His mind raced. 'I can't believe I behaved that way,' he berated himself. 'Made a fool of myself. Couldn't just eat my supper and ignore him. Hoshi and Travis didn't deserve to have their meal time ruined.' He didn't understand the fury that had swept over him. This was a new experience, this feeling that his emotions were not under his own control. He was finding that he frequently felt this way now, and it frightened him. He knew the anger he had felt upon seeing the engineer in the mess hall was irrational, but it had flared so quickly he hadn't been able to control his reaction until it was too late-- Hoshi, Travis, and Trip had all seen it. He just hoped none of the rest of the crew had been close enough to realize how near he had been to losing control. He didn't know how to cope with emotion this strong. Archer wanted him to talk to him, and Phlox had offered a listening ear, but that wasn't Reed's style. His preferred method of dealing with such unpleasantness was to bury the emotion, ignoring it; it was the method he had used all his life. Unsure of how else to cope with his agitation, he turned to the one outlet available to him. *** An annoying screech pierced the quiet on the bridge. Both Hoshi and Ensign Baylo jumped. The two young officers looked beseechingly at their captain. At the helm, Mayweather shook his head with annoyance, while T'Pol simply looked up from her station. Archer could imagine similar reactions throughout the ship. "Captain, the hull plating is polarized. Again," Ensign Baylo announced wearily. The grating sound abruptly stopped. Archer waited for what he knew would come next. "Sir, the hull plating is no longer polarized." Archer exchanged a glance with his science officer. "T'Pol..." "I'll take care of it, Captain." *** T'Pol moved briskly down the corridor, finally stopping in front of the appropriate door. She rang the chime. "Come in,: a distracted voice called from behind the door. T'Pol responded to the summons and entered the quarters. She stood silently until Reed finally looked up from his workstation. "Mr. Reed, the Captain has asked me..." "Sub-Commander. I'm glad you're here. I would like you to take a look at this data. I think with this configuration we can increase the strength of the hull polarity by fifteen percent." Reed spoke as though he hadn't heard her. T'Pol moved to look over his shoulder. "Interesting. It will need additional work, but it looks quite promising, Lieutenant. However, the Captain would prefer that the hull remain unpolarized for the time being." Reed looked at her with surprise. "The captain gave me permission to run simulations." "The captain gave you permission to run one simulation," T'Pol corrected him. "That is the third time you have polarized the hull plating during this shift." Reed shot her an irritated look. "Yes, but one simulation wasn't adequate. I need more data before I can continue." "Nevertheless, the captain has asked that you desist from activating the tactical alert. The bridge crew is becoming tense. Ensign Baylo already appears anxious to be serving as your substitute, and activating the tactical alert is not calming his nerves. Additionally, I believe you are supposed to be limiting your activities. Perhaps you should wait until you return to duty to conduct further simulations." "When I return to duty I'll have other things demanding my attention, whereas right now I don't have a bloody thing to do." Reed's voice was tight, and his words even more clipped than usual. T'Pol recognized the agitation in the armory officer's voice. She knew impatience was a human trait, but she had to admit that she, too, would have been displeased if she had been forced to remain off-duty for an extended period. "Perhaps I can speak with the captain and determine set times when it would be acceptable to collect the data you need." "I would appreciate it," Reed said, his voice softening. "Tell the captain there will be no more alerts until he approves." T'Pol nodded. She turned to leave, stopped, and turned back to the armory officer. He hadn't expected her to turn, and she caught him in an unguarded moment. He was staring with near desperation at the screen in front of him; it was obvious the project was critically important to him. "Lieutenant, is there anything I can assist you with?" He looked up and flushed at having been caught off-guard. "No. Thank you Sub-Commander, but I can't think of anything I need." "Lieutenant, you seem very anxious to complete this project. Why is it so urgent?" Reed simply stared back at her, not answering, and she saw his face momentarily harden. "I want to make certain Enterprise is prepared for any eventuality," he said curtly. "Is there anything else, Sub-Commander?" T'Pol didn't respond directly, bit simply stated, "I'll let the Captain know that you won't be running any more simulations during this shift." *** Archer stood up from his captain's chair. All was peaceful on the bridge, now that the incessant tactical alerts had stopped, and there was nothing particularly interesting within sensor range. Hoshi had returned from lunch visibly upset, and after some coaxing, she had told him about the incident in the messhall. It was the final straw. It was time to take action. He couldn't allow the conflict to become feed for the ship's rumor mill; already he had overheard junior crewman whispering about the notable absence of the senior officers at ship functions. An idea had been forming in the back of his mind, but he'd been loath to implement it. It wasn't a plan he liked, or was even comfortable with. He had remained naively hopeful that the two men would resolve their conflict themselves. It had become painfully obvious that this was not likely to happen. He would have to intervene. *** -- 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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