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"Dough Boys" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 3 Trip opened his eyes, staring out the window in front of him. Outside he could see a manicured lawn with flowers blooming and a breeze swaying the tree limbs. Trip looked down at the restraints around his wrists and ankles. He closed his eyes, trying to remember his name. This time it came much faster than last time. And he could remember his friend Jonathan Archer, but the only thing that followed it was the strong sense that he was not where he belonged. He couldn’t remember anything else beyond that. Trip opened his eyes when he heard the door open, but he didn’t look toward it. “Good morning sweetheart.” Trip turned his head watching the blonde who’d been introduced as his wife walk up to the bed. The thought flashed through his mind that her clothes were not familiar to him any more than this room or the city beyond the window. “I don’t remember your name,” Trip said. “Jestine. Jestine Tucker.” Trip forced a smile. “How long have we been married?” “It will be five years at the change of the season.” Trip nodded, looking out the window. “Jacob was excited to see you.” “Wish I could remember him.” “You get to stay in the city for a while before they send you back to the front,” she said, laying her hand on Trip’s arm. Trip didn’t reply. This felt so wrong. He felt like he should be somewhere else and yet he couldn’t remember where that was. “It’ll be alright, honey. You’ll remember everything.” “Will I?” Trip asked. “Yes.” Jestine smiled when Trip looked at her. “Everything...” Jestine looked down, tugging on the handkerchief in her hand, “Including her.” Trip tensed. “Her who?” “The spy.” “What spy?” “The one you...you said her name last night.” “T’Pol?” Trip recalled the name like it was his own. There was a strong sense that this name and the person who belonged to it was someone he knew and he desperately wanted to see her. Jestine nodded. “She was a spy from the other side.” “Are you in the military?” Trip asked Jestine. “No.” “How do you know all this then?” “They thought if I knew some of the assignments you were on, the ones that have been de-classified anyway, I might be able to help you remember things.” Trip hesitated. While his memories may be caught up in a fog somewhere in his mind, he knew that her explanation wasn’t right. Yet, she had information on T’Pol. He had to know what she knew. “What did she have to do with anything?” “They asked you to flush her out. You posed as a general and eventually they caught her and killed her.” “Why would I remember her?” “You two...” Jestine looked down with a tight smile. “Well, the two of you were close right up to the end, they said. Very close.” That sounded right to Trip, the part about T’Pol and he being very close. But his mind was resisting believing anything else Jestine was saying as a truth. “She was killed?” Trip asked. “Yes. You exposed her and they killed her. You’re going back to retrain in a week.” Trip looked at her. “Retrain?” “For military. They need people on the front. Especially engineers.” “I’m a soldier?” “You’re an engineer. Better than a soldier, but not quite. They decided to retrain you since you can’t remember much.” “Probably best,” Trip agreed, but again his mind was resisting this information as being truth. Yes, he was an engineer, but not in the military. And he had never fought in a war. Jestine slid her hand into Trip’s. “I’m going to miss you. I was hoping they’d let you stay since you were hurt.” Trip squeezed her hand. That felt wrong. He didn’t have any feelings for her. Jestine leaned down and kissed him. Trip didn’t kiss her back. He suddenly remembered kissing T’Pol. Trip looked away when Jestine stood up again. “Get some rest. I’ll bring Jacob by later to see you.” Trip nodded. He waited for Jestine to leave before trying to work out the black holes in his memories. # “He’s not responding to the drugs at all,” a technician said to Doctor Utori. She stood on the other side of the observation window, watching Malcolm fight against his restraints. “It all starts out the same every time we administer the tiraxiol,” the technician continued. “Last time it was an hour before he remembered anything. And then, as before, he remembers everything again. We can’t keep doing this. The tiraxiol levels are getting dangerously high. Another injection might kill him.” Doctor Utori didn’t reply for several minutes. “What is the first thing he always seems to remember?” “His wife.” “Wife?” Doctor Utori looked at the technician. “We didn’t arrange a wife for him.” “His real wife.” “He had a wife? Who missed that!?” The technician attempted to answer. “Doesn’t matter.” Doctor Utori looked at Malcolm. “It’s too late to go back. Once we stop the treatment he’ll build a resistance like the others.” “Shall we terminate him?” “No. I don’t want him dead yet. He knows about some powerful weaponry. We need him for now. Continue collecting information and if he won’t cooperate, use alternative methods until he does. Once we have all we can get...then we’ll drop him in a pit to let him decide how this will end.” Doctor Utori turned and left the room. The technician walked through a door to his right, calling the people in the room with Malcolm. Malcolm watched them leave and relaxed some. He closed his eyes. “Vardee,” Malcolm whispered. “Where are you?” # Archer woke up coughing. He rolled onto his side, trying to catch his breath the coughing fit had stolen. Archer sat up and walked through his dark quarters to the bathroom to get a drink of water. He heard Porthos growl and looked back. Porthos yipped and then it was silent. Archer sat the glass down, walking into the room. “Port?” Archer coughed a little. He didn’t hear the click-click of Porthos’ nails on the floor. “Computer lights,” Archer said. Suddenly he was thrown to the floor from behind. “SECURITY!” Archer screamed when he felt something press against his neck. Then the world went black. The door slid open and the Caritek that had Archer pinned down looked up. Ryce charged the Caritek, throwing him off Archer and ripping his combadge off his shirt. Ryce threw it across the room, watching it transport away. “YOU AGAIN!” The Caritek yelled when he saw Ryce’s face. Ryce snarled, struggling to hold the Caritek down. Another security guard had run in behind Ryce. He knelt down, checking Archer’s pulse. He found one and ran over to the companel. “Lieutenant Porter to Sick bay.” “Sick bay,” a person responded. “We need a medical team in the Captain’s quarters. He was attacked again.” “On our way.” Lieutenant Porter turned, seeing the Caritek press the hypospray against Ryce’s arm even as the two fought. Lieutenant Carter ran back to Archer’s side, watching the fight. “You should be asleep!” The Caritek hissed suddenly. “And you should be DEAD!” Ryce hissed back. Ryce brought his fist across the Caritek’s face, knocking the alien unconscious. Ryce got to his feet, looking up when he heard Lieutenant Porter’s phaser power up. “Don’t shoot. He may know where Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker are,” Ryce told Lieutenant Porter. “RYCE!” Lieutenant Porter said. Ryce looked down, watching the Caritek transport away. “So much for that plan.” Lieutenant Porter lowered his weapon, looking down at Archer. # T’Pol walked into Sickbay, watching Doctor Phlox turn around to greet her. “You requested to speak with me?” T’Pol asked, glancing across the room at the bio-bed Archer was asleep on. “The drug the captain was injected with is a neurological inhibitor that was meant to block certain synapses within a humanoid brain. I suspect they didn’t chance on this particular chemical make up because it is too precise in mixture to be an accident.” T’Pol turned to look squarely at Doctor Phlox. “And why would they have injected him with this? The first drug they injected him was a narcotic sedative. Why did they not use it again?” “My theory is that the drugs are supposed to be injected one after the other. The first drug is probably for taking the victim away easier or without much trauma. The second drug, the one that the Caritek injected the Captain with this time, is meant to disrupt brain function to make the victim more susceptible to brain washing. Perhaps they were trying to speed up the process this time, or perhaps they’re trying to prevent us from finding our missing crewmen by debilitating our captain. Our experience with Ferengi are that they talk quite well when paid enough.” “Has the drug affected the Captain?” “Yes. He woke up about twenty minutes ago hysterical and unable to remember anything. I sedated him for the time being. However, the foreign influenza he has is attacking and destroying the drug proteins as if they were white blood cells. I don’t believe that the drug will last as long as it is supposed to. I have been giving him very low dosages of antibiotic to keep the virus from getting out of control, but I don’t want to eradicate it until the drug is consumed.” “He will become more symptomatic without the antibiotic to counteract the virus, Doctor.” “Yes. He will.” “Doctor Phlox, this situation is unacceptable.” Doctor Phlox smiled. “You won’t hear an argument from me, Commander, but better influenza than a captain with amnesia.” T’Pol lifted her chin. “Is there a chance he will have his memory back by the time we reach the Caritek home world?” “How long is it going to be before we reach the system?” “Another eight hours.” “Perhaps. Or he may still not know his own name in eight hours.” T’Pol looked at Archer. “Keep me posted.” “Yes, Commander.” T’Pol turned and left Sickbay, careful to mask her displeasure of the situation at hand. # Archer opened his eyes, staring at the lights above him. Something was telling him they should be familiar, but he couldn’t find the answer as to why. “Captain?” Archer watched a face appear and stop beside him. Archer stared at the face, trying to remember who this was and unable to. “Who are you?” Archer croaked. He coughed and that set off his headache. “More importantly, do you know how you are?” the person asked. Archer very slightly shook his head. The man smiled. “I am Doctor Phlox. I know you aren’t feeling well, but we don’t have much time. Let’s see if we can’t get some memories back, shall we?” Archer nodded. “Do you know where you’re at?” Archer shook his head. “This is the U.S.S. Enterprise NX-01. Do you remember anything about this ship?” Archer started to shake his head. He stopped, slowly answering, “We can go warp five and the Vulcans can go warp six point five.” Doctor Phlox smiled, nodding. Doctor Phlox retrieved a stool and sat down beside the bio-bed. “What else can you remember?” Archer closed his eyes. All this thinking was making his head hurt. “I’ve been sick for a week.” “Yes. You have been.” Archer’s eyes popped open and he looked at Doctor Phlox. “Do I have a dog?” “Yes. Do you remember his name?” Archer smiled. “Porthos. I got him from...” Archer’s smile faded. He looked away. “I don’t remember.” “That’s not important. It will come back eventually. Do you remember your name?” “My name...” Archer trailed off. He winced when his headache flared. “My name... I can’t remember my name Doctor.” “It’s okay.” Doctor Phlox patted his arm. “Let’s see what else you do remember.” Archer smiled. “My best friend is on the ship. We call him Trip. That’s not his name. His name is...” Archer looked down. “Charles Tucker the third.” “Very good.” Archer shook his head. “No. He’s not on this ship.” “Where is he?” Archer looked around the Sickbay. He closed his eyes for a few minutes. Through gritted teeth he growled, “I can’t remember!” “It’s okay,” Doctor Phlox said. “Go on to something else.” “We have other dogs on the ship,” Archer looked at Doctor Phlox, hesitating. “No. No, that’s not right. They’re... Jit. They... They’re Varlikon crossed with animal DNA.” “Very good. What of them?” “There...” Archer closed his eyes. “There are eleven. They look like children but...they’re older. The Varlikon made them for slaves and entertainment. They hunted them and made them fight...I remember everything about the Jit.” “Do you remember your name?” Archer looked at Doctor Phlox, his face going blank. “I lived in San Francisco on earth before we left dock. My name...” Archer snarled. “I can’t remember my name!” “What else do you remember?” “Trip isn’t on this ship.” “Yes. You said that. Where is he?” “He’s...” Archer sighed. “I can’t remember where he is. My munitions officer is Malcolm Reed. He has a temper on him and he’s married to Sista...no...Vardee. Captain Vardee. She’s one of the Jit,” Archer smiled. “I handpicked all of my senior staff. Except T’Pol and you. She was assigned to us and we’ve had a time keeping her. She’s part of the crew,” Archer sat up. “Here.” Doctor Phlox raised the back of the bed so Archer could lean against it. Archer leaned back, starting to shiver. “Just a moment,” Doctor Phlox said. He walked to a cabinet and pulled out two blankets. Doctor Phlox brought them back and spread them over Archer. “Captain Jonathan Archer is...” Archer trailed off, looking down. “Why do I know that name?” Doctor Phlox slowly stood up, staring at Archer. “The drug is quite effective in inhibiting memories.” “Drug?” Archer looked at him. “What drug?” “Can you remember the last thing that happened to you?” Archer looked away. “Yes. I, uhm...I went to get a drink of water. Porthos started barking. His barking made my head hurt, but then he yipped. I went to find out why and was attacked and...that’s all I remember,” Archer looked at Doctor Phlox. “What happened to Porthos?” “He’s fine. He was locked in the closet.” “Good. I would have...” Archer shook his head, looking down. “I’m Archer...Jonathan Archer.” “Are you certain?” “Yes,” Archer said confidently, then with far less confidence. “I think.” “You must be certain before you say you are someone.” Archer closed his eyes, laying his head back against the bed. “My head’s killing me.” Doctor Phlox picked up a hypospray and pressed it against Archer’s neck. “This will help you get some rest. We’ll continue this when you wake up.” Archer barely nodded his head, already falling asleep. # Archer heard two people talking quietly nearby. Archer opened his eyes, finding T’Pol and Doctor Phlox standing together, talking “My name is Jonathan Archer. I’m captain of Starfleet’s Enterprise NX-01. The Caritek have kidnapped Trip and Malcolm. And Porthos was a present from a friend.” T’Pol and Doctor Phlox both looked at him. Doctor Phlox smiled. “Good morning, Captain. Welcome back.” Archer slowly got off the bed and wrapped the blankets around him. “We were supposed to be headed for Caritek. Where are we, T’Pol?” Archer walked toward the two, letting his eyes droop to keep the Sickbay lights from sharpening his headache “We are holding position behind a moon just inside the Caritek solar system and out of their sensor range.” Archer started coughing so hard he had to sit down. He stopped. “You really need to rest, Captain,” Doctor Phlox advised. “I’m getting Trip and Malcolm back. Those twins need their father and I am getting my best friend back. Hopefully with all their memories intact.” “You remember what happened?” “I remember you said something about drugs. That’s what the Caritek gave me, right?” “Yes.” “And it made me forget everything for a while?” “Yes.” “What made me remember?” “The influenza virus in a sense ate up the drug.” “If Trip and Malcolm were given the drug that I was given, will the virus cure them?” “I don’t know. You already have the virus and it began working on it’s own before I discovered it.” “T’Pol, have you made any plans on finding out where our men are?” Archer coughed hard again. He looked up at T’Pol as soon as he’d stopped and caught his breath. “Yes.” “What is it?” “It has to do with the virus and the different physiology of the Jit,” Phlox said. “You’re sending Jit in?” “Yes.” “Sista isn’t going.” “No she isn’t,” Doctor Phlox said. “She is allowing Ryce and Zintar to go. She’s being level headed about this matter, considering.” Archer looked at Doctor Phlox, “And what happens when they get injected with this drug I was injected with?” “I plan on injecting them with the virus before sending them to the surface. And then, hopefully, between the virus and their different physiology, they won’t be affected by the drug.” Archer looked up at T’Pol, “As soon as they find Malcolm and Trip, come tell me. I’ll be in my quarters.” “Captain, you really are in no shape to retrieve your crewmen. I strongly urge you to send someone else,” Doctor Phlox said. “I’m going, Doctor. End of conversation. You have your orders, T’Pol.” T’Pol turned and left the Sickbay. Archer pulled the blankets closer around and began a slow walk to his quarters. # “...to Archer.” Archer woke slowly. “T’Pol to Archer,” T’Pol repeated. Archer reached up and pressed the companel. “What?” “Ryce and Zintar have reported back, Captain,” T’Pol said. “They have found where Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed are being held.” “I’m on my way,” Archer said. “Captain...” T’Pol started. “Yes?” There was a brief hesitation. “I’ll have their reconnaissance report ready when you arrive.” Archer slowly climbed out of bed, his aching body complaining about simply moving. Archer dressed and headed for the bridge. |
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