"Dough Boys" by A. Rhea King Rating: PG Disclaimer: Don't own the, CBS/Paramount does. Summary: Malcolm and Trip are kidnapped and brainwashed to believe they are soldiers in an alien war. Suffering from the flu, but determined to find his men, Archer goes in search of them. CHAPTER 4 Archer stared at the topographical map on the situation screen. “There aren’t many places to land around there, are there?” “Zintar and Ryce have designated an acceptable location. We’ll have to attempt to get in under their sensors.” Archer looked up at the 3-D model. “Prepare to depart. I have to make a stop at Sickbay and we’ll leave. Contact Zintar and Ryce.” “Yes, sir.” Archer turned to leave but stopped. He looked back at T’Pol. “T’Pol.” T’Pol looked at him. “I’m guessing when you called me earlier you wanted to object to my going?” “Doctor Phlox feels you should remain aboard Enterprise and allow myself and another crewman to retrieve Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed. I agree with him.” “Thanks for the concern. Prepare to leave.” “Yes, Captain.” Archer left the situation room. # Rain began falling shortly after they had left the shuttle pod and had drenched T’Pol and Archer as they made their way toward the coordinates. The two reached the spot finding Zintar and Ryce waiting. “Hold out your right hand, sir,” Zintar said in a hushed voice. Archer held out his hand. Zintar held a light over Archer’s hand and a small dot glowed green. Zintar pulled a pair of tweezers from a pocket on his uniform and pulled off the spot, throwing it on the ground. Ryce aimed a phaser at it and shot it. “We found out that’s how they were able to track you on Enterprise, sir,” Zintar explained. “They put them on all their recruits.” Archer’s breath caught and he coughed to loosen it. He was feeling much worse than he had in several days. “Recruits?” Archer asked. “They locate humanoid aliens that would be suitable soldiers at space docks and market places and place these tracking devices on them. Then they go back when the aliens are least expecting them and kidnap them, brainwash them, train them as soldiers and sell them to the highest bidder.” “Nice slave trade,” Archer muffled a light cough. “Have you located where my men are?” “In the camp about a six hundred meters from here. We haven’t been into the camp, sir. We just found their names on a computer in the city twenty kilometers west of here. They keep a close record of who the kidnapped soldiers are and where they come from so if they need to go back for medical records they can.” “How convenient,” Archer snarled. “We set the power grid to go off in ten minutes,” Ryce said. “We’ll have ten seconds to get in before it comes back on line.” “Once we get in, how do we get back out?” Archer asked. Zintar held up a device. “These shut off individual power relays along the fence. But only from the inside for work crews.” “You two worked fast down here,” Archer commented. Zintar nodded. “We had to. Trip’s scheduled to ship out in the morning. Malcolm is scheduled for disposal in two days. The file noted that he was resistance to tiraxiol, we assume that’s the drug to make them forget, and was to be disposed of if they were unable to obtain any further weaponry information.” “That was in the files?” “No,” Ryce answered. “That was in the letter that the secretary of the general in charge of the camp was writing to some doctor while we were in bed yesterday morning.” Archer and T’Pol both looked at Ryce. Ryce smiled. “I’m thirty-two, Captain. Remember?” Ryce asked. “Someday I will. Lead the way, men.” The four traveled through the forest to where it stopped and opened onto a clearing two hundred meters wide. Beyond it a double fence of energy shielding surrounded a military training camp. “When the lights go out, we have to hurry. We only have ten seconds,” Zintar said. The lights in the camp suddenly went out and the four ran behind a building and crouched down, waiting for the lights to come back on. The lights came back up and Ryce stood. “Wait,” Archer yanked Ryce back down. “We have--“ “Let them check the perimeter and systems first, Ryce,” Archer said. Ryce crouched down, waiting beside Archer. “We should take better cover until it’s safe to move,” T’Pol suggested. Archer looked around. He pointed to a stack of crates next to a building. The four ran to the stack and slipped behind them to wait. Archer leaned against the building behind him, feeling his headache starting to come back. Archer closed his eyes, listening for approaching feet. “Sir?” Zintar said. “Hm?” “Are you alright?” “Yeah. How long has it been?” “Don’t know.” “Guess.” “Fifteen minutes.” “You two don’t know where Malcolm or Trip are?” “No, sir.” “Perhaps we should go in groups of two,” T’Pol suggested. Archer stood up so he could see over the crates. “T’Pol and Zintar, take the right row. Ryce and I will take the left.” Archer waited for T’Pol and Zintar to disappear into the darkness and then led the way down the left row of barracks. They stopped in the door of each one, searching for Trip or Malcolm. Archer and Ryce stepped into a doorway as a transport came around the corner. The two pressed into the doorway, watching it pass. Archer looked inside, seeing bunks along the walls. At the back were two tables where several soldiers were playing cards. “Found Trip,” Archer whispered to Ryce. Ryce leaned forward, immediately spotting Trip. Archer opened his communicator. “T’Pol.” “Yes?” T’Pol whispered back. “We’re at the third to last barrack and we found Trip. Get over here.” “On our way.” Archer closed his communicator, slipping it back in his arm pocket. He kept his eyes on Trip, watching his best friend laughing and acting like he was among friends. Archer looked around when Zintar and T’Pol stepped into the doorway. “Set to stun. Stun everyone except him.” “He may not remember us, Captain,” T’Pol pointed out. “You didn’t remember anything when you came to after being injected. He’s been on this planet for two weeks and has most likely received the drug regularly.” “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Ready?” The three nodded. Archer threw the door open and they ran in firing at soldiers until the only one left standing was Trip. Archer kept his phaser trained on Trip. “Trip?” “Who are you? How’d you know my name?” Trip asked. Archer swallowed. T’Pol was right. Damn! Why did T’Pol have to be right? “I’m Jonathan Archer, Trip. We’ve been friends for eleven years. I’m your captain aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise. We’re from earth.” Trip didn’t reply. “You’re my best friend, Trip. Please,” Archer said through clenched teeth. “Please remember me,” Archer coughed a little. “They won’t remain unconscious for much longer, Captain,” T’Pol said, walking up behind Archer. “She’s a spy!” Trip hissed. Trip reached for the phaser strapped to his leg and Archer fired. Trip fell unconscious to the floor. Archer walked up to Trip, pulling his phaser out of the holster. “I’m so sorry, Charles,” Archer whispered to Trip. Then louder, “T’Pol and Zintar, take him to the shuttle. We still have to find Malcolm.” “The soldiers will alert guards as soon as they awaken,” T’Pol said. “I’m not leaving without Malcolm,” Archer coughed hard a couple of times and wiped his sweaty brow “Sir, the medicine the doctor gave you is wearing off. You’re going to give your position away if you continue searching the camp,” T’Pol said. “Zintar and I--” “T’Pol,” Archer turned, facing her. “Take my friend to the shuttle. I’ll be along shortly with Vardee’s husband.” “No,” Zintar said. T’Pol and Archer looked at him. “What?” “I said no, sir,” Zintar said. “You leave with me and let T’Pol and Ryce get Malcolm. If you have a coughing fit they’ll find you.” Archer coughed a little. He looked down at Trip. “Don’t come back without Malcolm, T’Pol,” Archer told her. T’Pol and Ryce left. Archer watched Zintar pick Trip up and sling him over his shoulder. “Let’s get back to the shuttle, sir,” Zintar said, wrapping a hand around Archer’s arm. Archer didn’t object to letting Zintar guide him. His world had begun to spin by the time the two reached the forest. # The two ran through the compound toward the brig, ducking in shadows any time a guard patrol came close or a patrol light swept in their direction. T’Pol stepped into the door of the brig, taking a quick survey of the receiving area beyond. T’Pol led Ryce around the corner, glancing at the covered vents in the ground as she and Ryce jogged past them. “I saw only two guards, but there may be more,” T’Pol said, looking back at the vents again. “Do you have a map of the sewer system? Perhaps one of those vents would lead into the brig.” Ryce pulled out the PADD again. He pulled up a map and his brow furrowed. “These vents aren’t on the map, Commander.” “T’Pol?” a voice said. It was muffled to the point it was almost inaudible. The two held their breaths, waiting to see if the person spoke again. “T’Pol,” a voice said again, “over here.” Ryce slowly moved in the direction of the voice. “Speak again,” Ryce said to the voice. “Ryce?” Ryce trotted toward the voice. He knelt down by one of the vents. Ryce looked up, motioning T’Pol to him. T’Pol ran over and knelt down. The vent turned out to be a metal covering with a digital lock on it. Ryce pulled a tricorder off of his belt and aimed it at the lock. “Lieutenant Reed?” T’Pol leaned near the metal door. “T’POL! Thank God!” Malcolm said from behind the door. “We will have you out shortly, Lieutenant Reed,” T’Pol said, looking around them. Ryce found the combination and entered it. The two lifted the door back and T’Pol knelt down by the ledge. At the bottom of a ten foot, cement-lined, pit Malcolm stood in waist high water. “Climb up, Lieutenant.” T’Pol motioned to the ladder. “I can’t, T’Pol.” Malcolm coughed, whimpering at the end. “My leg is broken.” “Keep watch,” T’Pol ordered Ryce. T’Pol stepped onto the ladder and climbed down, easing herself into the frigid waters at the bottom. The water was knee high on her and she waded through it toward Malcolm. T’Pol found Malcolm was sitting on a ledge. Malcolm looked up at T’Pol, his bruised and swollen face hiding his relief of seeing her. “I’m pretty sure my ribs are broken and my lung’s punctured,” Malcolm whispered. “We must go,” T’Pol said, sliding her phaser in a holster on her side. She leaned down and slid her arm around Malcolm’s back. Malcolm put his arm around her shoulders, letting her help him to his feet. He whimpered when he accidentally put pressure on his broken leg. T’Pol and Malcolm both jumped when they heard a noise above. Ryce was climbing down the ladder. He stopped just inside the hole, watching the camp over the edge of the hole. “There’s activity.” Ryce looked down at T’Pol. “I think the soldiers woke up, ma’am,” Ryce whispered. An alarm went off and well beyond the hole the compound lit up. “Is there anywhere nearby to hide?” T’Pol asked. “No, ma’am.” Ryce reached up and did something to the locking mechanism. He reached out and closed the door. “You’re going to lock us in here, Ryce!” Malcolm scolded. “I disabled the lock. They can’t find the door open, sir.” “We could be here all day,” Malcolm whispered. “Sir, there are soldiers everywhere,” Ryce said, his voice getting closer. “We’re safer in here than we’ll be out there.” T’Pol heard Ryce step into the water and walk toward the two of them. Ryce stepped onto the ledge and stood against the wall. T’Pol sat Malcolm back down on the ledge and sat down next to him to wait. T’Pol felt Malcolm’s head drop against her shoulder. “Lieutenant Reed?” T’Pol said. Malcolm didn’t reply. “Malcolm,” T’Pol said. Malcolm didn’t reply. “What’s wrong?” Ryce asked. “He’s lost consciousness.” T’Pol rested Malcolm against the wall. She stepped onto the ledge and stood beside Ryce. # Zintar turned away from Trip to Archer on the other side. Archer was shivering from chills even with seven thermal blankets. Zintar aimed a tricorder at Archer and frowned when his temperature read forty degrees Celsius. Archer’s temperature had been steadily climbing over the last five hours and Zintar didn’t know what to give him to bring it back down. Zintar turned back to Trip, checking his vitals. “Where are we?” Archer whispered. Zintar turned back to him, “Captain?” “Where are we?” Archer looked up at him. “Still on the planet. We’re waiting for T’Pol, Ryce and Malcolm. Do you wish us to continue waiting?” “Yes,” Archer whispered. “For how much longer?” “Until the baseball game’s over,” Archer whispered. “Then we’ll go pick mom up from work, okay dad? Just until the game’s over.” Zintar sat down, staring at Archer. It was the first signs of delirium he’d had since he’d been sick, warranting Zintar’s concern and explaining the strange emotions he’d been feeling from Archer in the last hour. “Okay, dad? Can we wait until the game’s over? They’re in the final quarter. I’ve waited all week to watch this hockey game.” “Yes. When the game’s over,” Zintar answered. He sat down on the floor with a heavy sigh. # Dim light filled the hole as Ryce lifted the cover up a couple centimeters. “It’s clear.” Ryce looked back down at them. He climbed out, opening the cover. “Are you conscious, Lieutenant?” T’Pol asked Malcolm “Yes.” “We must go now.” “Help me,” Malcolm said. T’Pol slid her arm around Malcolm, lifting him to his feet. They waded to the ladder and T’Pol followed close behind Malcolm to help him up the ladder. At the top Ryce grabbed Malcolm’s arms and helped him over the ledge onto the ground. T’Pol got out and closed the lid, minding to stay low to the ground. “We have to hurry,” T’Pol said. “Hurry?” Malcolm questioned. “As best we can,” T’Pol answered. T’Pol slid his arm around Malcolm and helped him to his feet. The three made their way to the energy field surrounding the compound. Ryce aimed a device at a relay and started working on it until the relay turned off. “Ryce, assist Lieutenant Reed on his other side,” T’Pol ordered. Ryce slid an arm around Malcolm’s other side and the three disappeared into the forest, heading toward the shuttle pod. # His quarter door opening and closing woke him, but he didn’t roll over to greet the person. The person walked up to the bed, sat something down and then walked away. Porthos trotted across the room when his dog food bag rustled and then there was food being poured into his metal bowl. The bowl made a soft ting of metal against metal when the person sat the bowl on the floor. The door opened. “Wait,” Archer said with a hoarse voice. He swallowed and grimaced when he found his throat was raw. Archer coughed a couple times. The door closed and the person approached the bed again. “You are awake?” T’Pol asked. Archer looked over his shoulder at her. He coughed before answering her. “Yes.” “I have brought your meal.” T’Pol motioned down beside her Archer rolled onto his back, staring at the tray sitting on the chair by his bed. He looked up at T’Pol. “I remember landing and being at the shuttle, but nothing after that.” “You were running a high fever when we returned to the shuttle pod and were delirious.” “How long ago was that?” “Four days. You’ve been asleep since.” “Where are we?” “We’ve returned to our original course.” “How’s Trip?” “Ill with the virus. So far he can only recall a few memories.” “And Malcolm?” “Lieutenant Reed is still in Sickbay. He has serious injuries, but Doctor Phlox has assured me he will survive. He said he was tortured for information regarding weapons technology and does not believe he told them much.” “Why didn’t they make him forget?” Archer asked. “Doctor Phlox did find traces of the drug in his blood, confirming that they attempted to make him forget who he was.” “Why didn’t he forget?” T’Pol’s eyebrow raised. “He said he could not forget Vardee. No matter what they tried, he remembered her and held onto that memory. I do not understand why that made the difference, but Doctor Phlox says he understands and agrees.” Archer nodded. “How is everything else? How’s my ship?” “I have completed and sent a report of this incident to Starfleet. They are aware that you are incapacitated at the moment and under Doctor Phlox’s orders to remain in bed for another week. Admiral Garner has requested you to contact him as soon as you are well enough. If you would like, I can bring reports for you to review.” Archer nodded his head slightly. “Maybe in a few days. Not now.” “As you wish. Contact me if you need anything else.” “Thank you T’Pol,” Archer whispered. “You are welcome. Is that all?” “Yes, T’Pol. “Rest well.” T’Pol turned and left the room. Archer rolled back onto his side and fell asleep. Back to Chapter 3 This series continues in If the Uniform Fits The next Tweens story is Truth Versus Fiction

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