"A Thousand Years" By Drogna Rating: PG-13 Disclaimer: Enterprise doesn’t belong to me, I wish it did. The only thing I get out of this is someplace for my imagination to run riot. Description: Trip is recovering from his injuries after the explosion, but can he and T’Pol put aside their differences long enough to make things work between them. Author's Note: This is the sequel to Desert Rose, read that first if you want to know how Trip survives TATV. “We stand here today on the edge of a new future for the peoples of the galaxy. We have given ourselves a difficult task, to forge a lasting alliance between eighteen races that will ensure freedom and liberty throughout the known universe. A difficult task, but not an impossible one and one that we cannot, will not, fail in. When I was asked to give this speech I knew with complete certainty that they had picked the wrong guy. I’ve been called many things over the months that it has taken to put together this charter, some of them complimentary, some of them less so. I have been described as the “Architect of the Federation Charter”, and that is something that I certainly am not. There are delegates from eighteen races signing this Charter, it is far more than the work of one man. To say that I’m responsible for this historic occasion ignores so many people who have contributed and without whom I would not be standing here today. We have faced adversity and trials to bring us to this point. Lives of loved ones and friends have been sacrificed for what they believed. We have walked through fire together and shown that we will not crumble. We stand united knowing that we are all aiming for the same goals of peaceful exploration. When I was appointed Captain of Enterprise ten years ago, I never dreamed that I would be signing a document which lays the ground work for co-operation between so many species. We stepped out into the galaxy, knowing so little about what faced us, but we made many friends on our travels. I am proud now to be able to officially call those friends members of the Federation that we have worked so hard to create. To say that this will be the end to all our problems would be overly optimistic, but we will face future problems by using all the resources available to us. This charter is the beginning of a greater era of co-operation that we pass on to our children and our children’s children. We give them the gift of peace, a gift that we have known precious little of during our own life times. This will not be a military alliance in conception but, should the need arise, we will take up arms together against aggressors. Those who are strong among us will protect the weak, and we will be proud to do so.” Excerpt from Captain Jonathan Archer’s Address to Federation Charter Signatories, January 28th 2161 **** Trip breathed. He would have liked to be doing something else as well as breathing but even the slightest exertion resulted in pain and difficulty catching his breath. If he lay completely still then he felt fine, but if he tried to sit up or even roll over he found that his damaged body just couldn’t cope. When they had moved him out of the Intensive Care Unit he’d felt that he was on the road to recovery. He had even celebrated with his friends, as much as he was able to given that he was attached to every medical monitoring machine known to man. Everyone had told him that he still had a lot of healing to do and that he’d need to be patient, but he just wasn’t a patient man. Hospitals were dull places, especially if you had limited mobility. Beside his bed sat a pile of pads that T’Pol had brought for him a few days ago. Some of them contained Engineering projects that he’d been working on before the explosion. He’d been helping out the designers of the new NC class of ships with their reactor designs. Other pads contained novels and news. T’Pol had wanted to bring him a variety of reading material. None of them were appealing at the moment, however. Everyone had gone back to work after the Federation Charter signing ceremony. Trip couldn’t help but feel left out of all the festivities and a little jealous of his former crew mates, who all seemed to be going on to bigger and better things. By all accounts, Travis Mayweather had two Captains vying for him to take up the position of helmsman on their ship. It came with an automatic promotion if he accepted either. Malcolm Reed was being offered a high powered Security job that gave him power to make policy for the whole of Starfleet. Trip didn’t think he’d accept it though, he’d want to be back on board a ship as soon as possible. Hoshi had decided to go back to her first love, teaching and she was going to be Head of Xenolinguistics at her Brazilian University. Scuttlebutt was that Captain Archer had been offered his Admiralty but everyone knew, or thought that they knew, he’d want to command a ship. Except the more Trip thought about it, he wasn’t sure that Archer did want another ship to command. Enterprise had been special to them both. To Trip because Enterprise was the ship he’d looked after for the past ten years and no one knew her like the Chief Engineer; to Archer because it was his first deep space command. It had been home and there was nothing that could replace that. Trip had seen the tiredness in Archer’s eyes and his toast to “the next generation” hadn’t been lost on Trip. Space exploration was a young man’s game and Archer was in his fifties now. T’Pol’s plans were still a mystery to him, in fact he’d barely seen her this last week. That didn’t surprise him, he always thought that she’d been visiting him out of a sense of duty. He was sure that he’d find out soon enough where she was going and that she would be offered something worthy of her amazing talents. Beautiful, intelligent Vulcans weren’t exactly a dime a dozen around Starfleet. In fact, even seven years after T’Pol had become the first alien to serve in Starfleet, there still weren’t many non-human Starfleet officers. Now that they’d signed the Federation charter that would probably all be changing. It was going to be an exciting time to be part of Starfleet. He doubted T’Pol would be hanging around on Earth much longer, despite her reassurances. Given the circumstances Trip was well aware that he’d never be signing on to another starship, no matter how hard he pleaded with Starfleet that they give him Chief Engineer of one of the new warp seven ships. His health would never now be up to serving on active duty on a starship again. It was what he’d been offered before the incident, or accident, or explosion, or suicide attempt, or whatever they wanted to call it. The psychiatrists had already been round to discuss the latter and he doubted he’d get away completely with “it seemed like a good idea at the time”, as an explanation for his actions. So far he and Archer hadn’t really talked about why he’d done what he had. To be honest, he’d been spending a lot of his convalescence wondering if he could have done something else, so perhaps it was just as well that Archer hadn’t asked. It was amazing how things could change. A couple of weeks ago he’d had several options for where to take his shining career in Starfleet. He was the acknowledged warp practise expert. No one else had been Chief Engineer for as long or contributed so much to warp engine design as Commander Tucker. It was depressing to think that he’d never get to leave Earth again, at least not as Chief Engineer. He’d worked pretty damn hard for that title and one thoughtless action had blasted his career into oblivion. “T’hy’la,” said a voice in his head. “Thinking this way will not help your recovery or serve any purpose.” Damn, he’d been broadcasting again. The first thing T’Pol had taught him after they realised that they were bonded was mental shielding, except he seemed to be having trouble with it at the moment. At first the pain medication had compromised his mental acuity so he couldn’t help but broadcast his thoughts, T’Pol just shut him out when she needed some peace. Lately he couldn’t blame it all on the pain medication, that had been stepped down considerably, mostly he thought that he was probably just distracted by his situation and a subconscious desire to have T’Pol with him. “T’Pol, sorry,” replied Trip. “I’ll try to keep the shields up a bit better.” T’Pol was at Starfleet HQ today. She was very carefully keeping hidden what she was up to. Her mental shields seemed to be rather stronger than his own. “I was not chastising you for your lack of mental discipline, although we should perhaps address that at a later date,” said T’Pol. Trip couldn’t help a burst of indignation at T’Pol’s remark but he quickly hid it as he realised firstly that T’Pol would feel it over their link and secondly, that she was right, he did lack mental discipline. “Yeah, I think I need to work on it. I guess I don’t have much else to do at the moment but think.” “I will be returning to the hospital later this evening, we can discuss this and your earlier thoughts then,” said T’Pol. It was obvious that she was engaged in other business and didn’t need him distracting her. “You are tired and should rest.” Trip was always tired at the moment. He woke up tired and slept fourteen hours a day. He knew that T’Pol was politely telling him to leave her alone so that she could work. He really regretted the fact that he caused her so much trouble and he was probably only going to cause her more. He certainly wouldn’t be leading a normal life any time soon and even when he was fully recovered, Phlox had indicated that he’d always have a reduced lung capacity. It didn’t seem fair to burden T’Pol with his recovery, but as she’d be getting her new posting soon he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore. Trip carefully erected his mental shields so that he wouldn’t intrude on T’Pol’s work again and decided that sleep wasn’t such a bad idea. There wasn’t much else to do after all. **** T’Pol felt Trip drift off to sleep and noted that he slept soundly. She always allowed a small trickle of thought from her bond-mate to enter her mind. It allowed her to keep a mental eye on him and had come in useful on many occasions. Even before their bond had been so strong she had always been able to monitor Trip’s mental pulse. When his shuttle had crashed in the swamps of Vevrom she had known immediately that he was in trouble and had felt the frantic nature of his actions and an impression of his fear. It was all faint, but she went to the Captain and asked him to launch a search party. Archer, knowing the nature of her connection with Trip, had agreed without hesitation. The feelings of frustration, rising depression and boredom that she now received from Trip worried her immensely. She had done some reading into human recovery patterns after serious injury, and so far his reactions seemed normal, but at the same time all her reading had stressed that everyone coped in their own way. At first Trip had just been happy to be alive, but as the days wore on and he realised how badly he’d been injured, and what it would mean, he had become more and more depressed. She had little idea how to deal with this. She had already spoken to him logically and explained that he should not worry about things that he could not change. What he could do was concentrate on his recovery and attempt to get well by looking after himself. At the moment he seemed to have completely ignored her advice and was not concentrating on getting well, instead he was worrying about his career in Starfleet. T’Pol felt the grief at nights particularly, she sensed Trip lying awake and regretting the fact that he’d never be Chief Engineer of a starship again. His weakened condition made it hard for him to hide his thoughts from her and she was glad of that. If he had kept all this pain hidden away with no one to support him then she didn’t like to contemplate what might have happened. Instead she did her best to talk him through the blackest moments, sending reassurance, love and support through their bond. What she didn’t understand was why that didn’t seem to be enough. He had friends and a future. He was still alive. She tried to understand him, but nothing seemed to help. Trip was doing his best to hide how he felt, everyone still got the “Good Old Trip Tucker” treatment. He smiled and joked and pretended that he was coping fine with it all, when he obviously wasn’t, and people who didn’t know better fell for it. Trip still wasn’t able to fool Malcolm Reed and Phlox knew too much about how Trip dealt with pain, mental and physical, to be taken in. The other person who was immune to Trip’s charms was, of course, Captain Archer, who hadn’t been fooled for a minute. Archer and Trip had been friends for nearly twenty years and there wasn’t much they could hide from each other. T’Pol doubted that she would have been as quick to spot it without the benefit of their bond. Before they had accidentally created the Vulcan marriage bond she and Trip never had been good at expressing their feelings to each other. As if to highlight her point, she was currently hiding her purpose for going to Starfleet HQ from Trip. She only hoped that Trip would understand once she explained why she was doing what she was doing. She loved him very much and she wished that she was better at telling him so but her Vulcan side was too strong. **** Lieutenant Malcolm Reed came to the hospital bearing gifts. It wasn’t much, just Trip’s Go set and an intention to play a couple of games with Enterprise’s undefeated champion. Chess was more Reed’s game but he certainly wasn’t averse to playing the odd game of Go with Trip, even if Trip always won hands down. “How is the Commander today?” Reed asked the nurse on duty. “His breathing has been a little better today, but he’s sleeping at the moment,” said the smiling nurse and Reed nodded in understanding. Despite his weakened condition, Trip had still managed to work his charm on the female half of the nursing staff. Reed made a mental note to ask how he managed it. “Is it okay if I wait for him to wake up?” “Sure go ahead,” said the nurse. Reed thanked the nurse and went into Trip’s room. He quietly sat down in the uncomfortable armchair that Starfleet Medical provided for patient’s visitors. Trip lay, fast asleep, in the bed, swathed in anti-burn dressings, with various IVs running into his arm. He was also breathing a mixture of pure oxygen and aerosol medication through a nasal cannula. Reed had come to see Trip several times since his admission to hospital and although he looked infinitely better than he had in ICU, his skin was still pale, except where it was marred by burnt scar tissue, and he had definitely lost weight. Reed gave a small sigh, Trip’s recovery was going to be a long one and the longer it was, the less likely it was that his friends would be around to support him. Travis had just today announced that he’d be shipping out on the USS Dauntless within the week, having finally made his choice of ship. Malcolm got out a padd and settled down to read. Trip slept a lot at the moment but Reed doubted that he’d have to wait too long. He wasn’t in a hurry in any case, he had been given leave until he would be beginning his next assignment. He was still in two minds as to which of the postings he had been offered he should accept. He would have liked to wait until Captain Archer made his decision and serve with him once again, but with Trip in hospital, he didn’t think that Archer would be hurrying to make up his mind. Reed briefly wondered where T’Pol would be posted next, but again she wouldn’t want to leave Trip if she could help it, which would limit her options. The rumours that were going round Starfleet were that she was being given another deep space assignment. If that were true, then perhaps he had overestimated her feelings for Trip. Trip stirred and yawned. He rolled his head in the direction of his visitor and opened his eyes. “Hey, Malcolm,” he said sleepily. Reed looked up from his reading and smiled. “Commander, good to see you finally decided to join me.” Trip patted the bed with his hand as if he was looking for something. “You seen the bed control?” he asked Reed. Trip was still not sufficiently recovered to sit up unaided and he hated talking to his visitors lying down. It was bad enough that he was still lying around in bed. Reed found the small remote control on the floor beside the bed and handed it to Trip. Trip thumbed the control with the ease of someone who had done this action several times, and raised up the head section. He shifted his weight a little so that he was more comfortable. “I brought your Go set,” said Reed. “I thought you might like to play a game with me.” “Sure,” replied Trip. Reed had hoped that the sight of the Go board might cheer Trip up a little, but it didn’t seem to have helped. “So any news from the outside world?” “Travis decided to take up Captain Romanov’s offer and he’s going to be shipping out on the Dauntless in a few days time,” replied Reed as he set up the board and placed his first counter. “I thought he would. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist being helmsman of the newest ship in the fleet. The first ship out of the new Utopia Planitia yards as well.” “I suppose everything is on a rather larger scale now. The NX class are all due for decommissioning over the next five years.” “Doesn’t seem fair. These are the ships that did all the work and now they’re just being tossed on the junk heap.” “I think NX05 Atlantis is being kept as a museum ship.” Trip sighed and shook his head as he placed his counter. “NX01 took a lot of my life. It’s hard to see her decommissioned.” “It took a lot of all of our lives,” replied Reed. “So what are your plans, now? Did you ever decide between the Security Liaison job or Armoury officer on the Excalibur?” “Excalibur doesn’t leave dock for another month, I’ve got a little time to make up my mind,” replied Reed. “I’m finding that it’s a hard choice to make.” “At least you have a choice,” said Trip. “It’s not as bad as it seems, Trip. If you’d been given the choice you might have decided to stay at Research and Development anyway.” “I seriously doubt that,” replied Trip, bitterly. They played Go silently for a couple of minutes, Reed unsure what to say to his friend. Trip eventually broke the silence. “I keep replaying the explosion in my head and trying to work out if I should have done something differently.” “It was an impossible situation. You took the best course of action that you could.” “How would you know? You weren’t even there,” Trip spat and paused for a moment, before he looked up at Reed, blue eyes meeting grey in an intense stare. “You know, that’s another thing that I keep wondering. When those aliens boarded the ship, where the hell were you, Malcolm? I mean, there’s an intruder alert and you’re not rushing to the rescue? That’s not exactly like you.” “If I could have got there any faster, don’t you think I would have done?” retorted Reed angrily. “This may surprise you, but I was asleep in my cabin when the alert sounded. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a robot, I do need sleep, and no, I don’t live permanently in the Armoury.” “You’ve got officers under your command. I guess they were all asleep too,” said Trip with biting sarcasm. “None of us were expecting trouble. My men were at their duty stations and they reacted as quickly as they could. The area outside the Captain’s quarters isn’t exactly the top priority for most aliens attacking the ship. It took us a while to track them down and by then it was too late. Trip, you have to realise that we were on our way home, and the aliens supposedly weren’t fast enough to catch us anyway. Of course, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have believed what Shran said, but we had no reason to think that he was lying to us.” “You’re making excuses, Lieutenant,” said Trip, breathing heavily. “No, you are,” said Reed. “Did you stop to think, before you blew yourself to hell, what a bloody stupid idea that might be? Or if there were any other alternatives, like leading the aliens towards the nearest security detail? Or putting into practice some of the training that I’ve been trying to instil in you for the last ten years? There had to be other possibilities than just putting two incompatible cables together. The problem is that you’re always the martyr. You don’t value your own life and you don’t see why anyone else should.” Trip had his eyes closed and was shaking his head, as if he didn’t want to hear what Reed was saying. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to relive the incident. “Go to hell, Malcolm. You’ve got no idea,” said Trip, between laboured breaths. “Haven’t I?” Reed blundered on regardless, Trip needed to hear this and they’d all been tiptoeing around it for too long. “I’ve got news for you, Commander. This isn’t the end of the world, you’re still alive, despite your best efforts, and you have a hell of a lot of friends who want to see that you remain that way.” “Well maybe I don’t want to live my life like this!” shouted Trip. “That’s just tough, because none of us are going to let you just give up,” replied Reed. Suddenly Trip wasn’t just breathing heavily he was actually struggling, gasping for each breath. “Trip?” asked Reed, worriedly. Captain Archer came into the room just in time to catch the end of the argument and see Trip struggling for breath. An alarm began to sound and a nurse appeared at the door a half second later and quickly paged a doctor for assistance after briefly checking Trip over. Phlox bustled into the room, barely casting a glance in Archer and Reed’s direction. He adjusted the medication in Trip’s inhalant and then injected him with a hypospray full of clear liquid. Trip’s breathing eased a few moments later and he seemed to be calming down. “The injection I just gave you will make you sleepy,” said Phlox to Trip. Trip struggled to keep his eyes open and shook his head. He didn’t want to sleep now, he had things to say and he’d spent most of the day sleeping already. “Don’t fight it. You need the rest,” said Phlox, in answer. The medication pulled Trip under despite his best efforts. Once Phlox was sure that his patient was stable again and sleeping peacefully he turned to the Commander’s two visitors and ushered them out into the corridor. “Perhaps one of you could tell me what triggered such a severe respiratory episode?” asked Phlox. “It was my fault. We were talking about the explosion and he wanted to know where I was. I’m afraid I got defensive,” said Reed. “And he became agitated?” asked Phlox. “Yes, we got into an argument,” said Reed. It wasn’t anything that they hadn’t done before. One of the things that Reed enjoyed about their friendship was the friendly banter and debate, but this hadn’t been friendly, more angry and bitter. Given Trip’s condition, he should have known better than to excite an ill man. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t think.” “It was bound to happen sooner of later. The Commander is still far from well and he has a lot of unresolved feelings surrounding the explosion. I suggest if the topic comes up again you pay more attention to any sign that he may be becoming agitated. Now, T’Pol will be calling me in about ten seconds to find out what upset the Commander,” said Phlox. Sure enough, Phlox’s communicator beeped at him and when he answered it, it was T’Pol. Phlox moved a little way down the corridor so that he could reassure T’Pol more privately. “The bond that they share still amazes me sometimes,” said Archer. “That T’Pol can be halfway across the city and still know that something is wrong with Trip is just beyond my understanding.” “Indeed,” said Reed, taking a seat heavily on one of the plastic chairs in the corridor. “What exactly were you two arguing about?” asked Archer. “It started out that he wanted to know why I wasn’t there when the aliens boarded Enterprise, but it was really about why he did what he did. I told him that he doesn’t value his life enough,” said Reed. “I guess that sounds hypocritical coming from the person who’s in the line of fire more than anyone else, but there really were alternatives to what he did. There must have been.” Archer could see Reed struggling with himself, unwilling to believe that Trip had to be hurt. His job was to protect the crew of Enterprise and, every time he failed in that, he took it personally, even when there had been no chance for him to do anything. His assertion that there must have been alternatives was aimed at his own actions as much as Trip’s. “Trip and I haven’t discussed exactly what happened, but I know one thing, he didn’t have much time to plan what he did. He may have made a bad call but given the situation we were in, I’m not sure there was much else he could have done. To be honest with you, if I’d thought of it first then maybe it would be me lying in that hospital bed. He has this perception that I’m more important than he is. It’s wrong. He’s every bit as important as I am.” “But the Charter…” started Reed. “Would have been signed by someone else if I hadn’t been there,” said Archer. “In fact that incident might even have served as another example of why we should be co-operating. In my speech I tried to make it clear that I wouldn’t have been here if it hadn’t been for everyone who helped me along the way, and Trip is one of those people. I’m only one man, Malcolm, and I’m nothing without the support of my friends and I never would have been given the chance to sign the treaty without Enterprise’s crew backing me up.” Phlox approached them. “T’Pol will be coming over as soon as she is able to leave her meeting. I explained to her that it was nothing to worry about, but she wanted to make sure in person.” “I’m sure that Trip will be pleased to see her,” said Reed. “Perhaps it would be better if I don’t come to visit again. If you could convey my apologies to the Commander…” “Malcolm, Trip’s going through a difficult time and he needs all his friends by his side,” said Archer. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying at the moment. He’s not well and still in pain a lot of the time, but too stubborn to admit it.” “After the argument that we just had, I doubt that he’ll want me to visit again,” said Reed. “On the contrary, I’m certain that you have helped him to resolve some of the feelings that he has regarding the explosion,” said Phlox. “If you feel that badly about this, then you can apologise in person. I’m not doing your dirty work for you,” said Archer. “Besides you’re the only one who can give him a decent game of Go.” Reed nodded. “I suppose that is true. Which means that when he wakes up, I need to have a talk with him.” “I don’t expect him to sleep long,” said Phlox. “I suggest you come back in an hour or so.” Archer nodded in acknowledgement before he steered Reed away to the hospital canteen to get some coffee. **** Trip awoke with a headache, feeling worse rather than better for his enforced nap. He blinked at the bright light and winced at the pain emanating from his head, and shut his eyes again. “Trip?” asked a familiar voice. “We need to talk.” “Now is not a good time, Captain,” said Trip, his eyes still shut. He heard some shuffling and a moment later someone else was in the room. “Are you in pain, Commander?” asked Phlox. “My head,” murmured Trip. “I’ll increase the analgesic in your medication. Just give it a minute to take effect.” Trip did as he was told and waited. Eventually he prised his eyes open. The light didn’t hurt and the throbbing in his head had decreased to a manageable level. “I’ll leave you two alone,” said Phlox and left the room. “It’s been a bad day, Captain. I’m not sure I’m up to a heart to heart.” “Trip, we’ve avoided this for too long. We need to discuss some things,” said Archer. “I caught the end of what you said to Malcolm.” Trip did his best to fold his arms over his chest despite the IV lines. “He should have been there.” “Don’t do this, Trip. I know you’ve been thinking about what happened and second guessing yourself isn’t going to help anyone. What happened, happened, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you were put in that position, except those aliens who boarded us. Malcolm, did everything that he could have and should have done. You know as well as I do that he’s a fine security officer and so are his staff. Don’t try to blame this on him.” “What do you want me to say? That I wanted to die? Hell, I’ve got psychiatrists coming out of my ears because I tried to blow myself up. They asked me if I was trying to commit suicide, or if I had a death wish, and one of them even asked me if I thought I was indestructible. Everyone wants me to talk about this, and I don’t want to.” “I know that you weren’t trying to kill yourself, and I know that your emotions are confused right now, but you can’t take it out on Malcolm.” Trip looked Archer in the eye and suddenly it was as if all the fight went out of him. “I know. He kept us safe for ten years, and it was my choice to do what I did. I shouldn’t have tried to make out that it was his fault. I made a decision and I’m paying for it.” “You saved my life, and I can never repay you for that. I wish it hadn’t cost you so much,” said Archer. “We’re even,” said Trip. “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.” “But you nearly died, Trip,” said Archer. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had. If it wasn’t for T’Pol, then we wouldn’t be talking now. I never want Phlox to tell me there’s nothing else that he can do ever again. I can definitely say that was the worst moment of my life to date.” “You’re not the one that gets the nightmares,” said Trip. “I know that, and I want to make one thing really clear. Your life is just as important as mine. Don’t give it up lightly. I want you to promise me that you’ll never do something like that again.” “You know I can’t make that promise. If I had to, I’d do exactly the same thing again. If it had been T’Pol, I’d have done the same thing. I can’t just stand there when my friends are in danger.” “Just promise me that you’ll at least try and protect yourself,” said Archer. “That I can promise you. I don’t like getting hurt, Jon.” Archer nodded. “I don’t like you getting hurt either, and neither does T’Pol.” “T’Pol? I haven’t seen her for more than five minutes for days,” said Trip. “She’s been busy at Starfleet HQ but she’ll be down this evening to visit. I talked to her earlier, your respiratory episode this afternoon scared her a bit.” Trip ran a hand through his hair. “I still forget that she can feel it too.” T’Pol’s mental shields were always up at the moment that he wasn’t getting any feedback from her. She had to be up to something and Trip wasn’t sure that he liked the implication that she didn’t want him to know what it was. He almost had to mentally shout at her to get her attention at the moment. “She’ll be gone soon and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.” “I don’t think she’s made any decisions about her next posting yet,” said Archer. “You’re kidding me, a smart woman like T’Pol? She won’t be staying on Earth, that’s for sure,” said Trip. “Have you actually talked to T’Pol about any of this?” “She’s been having meetings at Starfleet HQ for the past week. You don’t have meetings all week to get posted to R and D,” said Trip. “Why don’t you find out what she’s been doing before you start jumping to conclusions?” “I can’t, she’s had her shields up all the time, and she’s too far away for me to get anything…” Archer held up a hand to stop Trip before he went into intimate details. “There’s this thing the rest of us call talking. Maybe you and T’Pol should try it. Now, Malcolm’s waiting down the hall for you to apologise to him. Do you want me to help you sit up or can you manage?” The fact that Malcolm was actually waiting to apologise to Trip was information that he wasn’t going to pass on. ****End of Chapter One**** Trip found himself being wheeled on a gurney back to his room in Starfleet Medical. Phlox had scheduled another full body scan so that he could check how Trip’s lungs were healing. He had explained to Trip that he needed more in-depth information than he could get from a hand scanner, so regular full body scans were part of his weekly routine at the moment. It worried Trip that he looked forward to his excursions from the ward up to the scanning room, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was bored and any change of scene was interesting. The orderlies wheeled him back into his room and carefully transferred him back to his bed, wires, monitors, tubes and all. T’Pol stood just inside the room waiting for him. “Hey, T’Pol,” said Trip, as brightly as he could manage. He wanted to be happy to see her, but her shields were still raised and he had no idea what she was thinking. He suspected her shields were up because she had bad news for him and didn’t want him to find out before she told him. “I felt your earlier episode today. Are you sufficiently recovered to speak with me?” asked T’Pol. “I’m fine. I’m sorry for scaring you like that,” replied Trip. “I was not scared, I was concerned for your welfare,” stated T’Pol. “T’Pol, whatever you’ve come here to say, just get it out. This waiting is killing me.” T’Pol raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment on Trip’s inaccurate use of language. She had learned that he did not appreciate his grammar being corrected. “I spoke with Admiral Gardner today about my next posting,” said T’Pol. “He made it clear that it was unlikely that I will be posted to Earth.” “Even given that the Captain told us that Enterprise’s crew could pick their next assignments?” “I am one of only fifteen non-human officers within Starfleet. I am expected to remain on active deep space duty.” “I guessed that this would happen,” said Trip. “I offered to resign my commission.” “T’Pol, you shouldn’t have to resign your commission. I mean, you’re a damn fine Science Officer and you should really have your own command.” “That was in fact the Admiral’s intention,” replied T’Pol. “He would not let me resign my commission without considering an alternative posting.” “They offered you a command? What ship?” “Not a ship. Deep Space One.” “T’Pol, Deep Space One hasn’t been inhabited since the Romulan war. It was pretty much destroyed in the first attacks.” “That is true. They expect me to supervise its reconstruction and reinstate it as the first multi-species Federation deep space out-post.” “I can’t think of anyone better qualified to pull it off. You know, T’Pol, I’m not going to hold you to what you said about us giving it another go,” said Trip as he took the padd that T’Pol held out for him. “Long distance relationship’s are no fun, and this would be really long distance.” “Admiral Black also gave me your orders to deliver to you. Perhaps before you make plans you should read them.” “T’Pol, we have to be realistic here. If we couldn’t make it work when we were on the same ship we’ll never manage it with you halfway across the galaxy. It’s going to be at least a month before they even let me out of the hospital, let alone go back to duty, and I’m never going to be allowed on a ship again, so the chances of us crossing paths is pretty damn slim.” T’Pol’s mental shields were as strong as they’d ever been and Trip couldn’t even get a glimpse of her thoughts. Trip sighed. He already knew what the padd said and he didn’t know why T’Pol was making such a big deal out of this. He was going to be posted to Research and Development, where old Engineers went to die and young ones cut their teeth before shipping out to adventure. He pressed the activate button on the padd and scrolled past the formal language at the top, down to the details of his next assignment. “Deep Space One?” he asked incredulously. “This has got to be a mistake.” “It is not a mistake, I assure you,” said T’Pol. “It required some negotiation but I persuaded them that no one else would be able to fill the position as competently as you could.” “They know my condition, right? Phlox said he sent a report.” “Your level of health once you are recovered should be sufficient to serve on a space station.” “It’s bending the rules,” said Trip. “Deep Space One requires an experienced Chief Engineer to complete its refit. It is logical that you should serve as the Chief Engineer since you helped to build the station originally. You have the required experience and will be available to take up the position. You also have many friends who were prepared to speak on your behalf. However, I believe the fact that Doctor Phlox will be taking up the position of Chief Medical Officer on the station persuaded them that they would not be placing you in undue danger.” “I still don’t get it. It isn’t about my safety it’s about whether I can do the job,” said Trip. Starfleet didn’t post anyone who wasn’t physically fit to active duty not only because they could endanger their crewmates but also because they could be a danger to themselves, especially in an emergency situation. “You know that you are capable of doing the job,” said T’Pol. “Captain Archer, Ambassador Soval and the Tellarite Ambassador all spoke on your behalf. You may remember that you saved his life when you successfully repaired his ship.” “Even on a space station being an Engineer is a physical job,” replied Trip. “Phlox believes that you will be able to cope with the physical aspects, provided you follow his instructions. I will be on hand to ensure that his orders are followed.” “This is what you’ve been doing for the past week, isn’t it?” T’Pol inclined her head. “Yes, it has been quite time consuming.” “I thought that you were ignoring me. Hell, I was certain that you wouldn’t want to hang around with a guy who can’t even sit up without wheezing.” “You are my t’hy’la. I could not abandon you, no matter what condition your health is in.” T’Pol held out her hand towards Trip, her index and middle finger extended in the traditional Vulcan gesture of affection. Trip formed his fingers into the same shape and T’Pol’s finger with his own. T’Pol dropped her shields for the first time for almost a week and he felt love pour through their link, even stronger now that they were in physical contact. He felt T’Pol’s suppressed worry for his health and he reassured her that he was fine and loved her in return. He suddenly felt that her simple touch wasn’t enough, he pulled his t’hy’la into a hug and held her. When they eventually broke apart, Trip was grinning. T’Pol hadn’t been hiding things from him because she was leaving him, she had been hiding things because she hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, and because she didn’t want Trip to know of her plan to resign should things not go her way. She was right to hide that one, Trip would have been upset at her for considering sacrificing her career for him. “So we’re going to Deep Space One, huh?” “Yes, although I have a month’s leave before I must depart. You will be joining me once Phlox has declared you fit enough to travel. I trust there will be no problems with my being your commanding officer?” “There never has been before.” “That is a false statement,” replied T’Pol. “I can think of several instances where you disobeyed or questioned my orders.” “Any of those in the last couple of years?” “Only last month you questioned my decision to…” “Okay, okay! If you were worried about being my commanding officer, why did you work so hard to get me posted to Deep Space One?” “You are my t’hy’la. It was the only logical option.” “So you’re saying that you’re willing to put up with me annoying the hell out of you, so that we can be together.” “You do not annoy me. I find you to be… challenging, at times.” Trip laughed. “If that’s the worst that you can think to say about me then I guess we’re going to be okay.” “On Vulcan we have a saying mesaha-tor ashaya ozhika k’leh-the tevun,” said T’Pol. “Love outlasts logic by a thousand years,” said Trip. “You understand Vulcan?” “Just some basics. Not much else to do lying here,” replied Trip. “I’ve been studying. Mainly so I could say this to you properly. Eshikh svai, ashau nash-veh du.” The pronunciation was interesting, complete with southern accent, but T’Pol understood his meaning. Desert rose, I love you. “T’hy’la, ashau nash-veh du,” replied T’Pol. **** It was two months before Trip was well enough to travel and by then T’Pol had already been gone for a month. Trip was missing her like crazy. He’d felt their link fade as the Excalibur had taken her further and further away from Earth until there was nothing there, just an empty place in his head where T’Pol had been. It was something that neither of them had experienced before, they had almost always been in range of each other’s thoughts. They had worked out early on that Enterprise being in orbit around a planet wasn’t far enough away to break their communication, it just became more difficult and less precise the further away they were from each other. Unfortunately even their bond, as strong as it was, couldn’t reach the border of the Romulan neutral zone. A lot happened in the month before T’Pol left for Deep Space One. She spent most of her time at the hospital going over briefing documents for her new assignment. She discussed everything with Trip that he would need to know if he was going to be her Chief Engineer. Deep Space One wasn’t Enterprise or one of the new warp seven ships that he’d hoped for duty on before all this happened, but at least he wouldn’t be stuck on Earth, or alone. T’Pol now wore an extra pip on her uniform that indicated that she had been promoted to Captain. Trip’s promotion was in the pipeline as well and the confirmation should be with him any day now. Malcolm had decided in the end that he wasn’t ready to remain on Earth yet, so he’d taken the position on Excalibur, along with a promotion of his own. Excalibur was the closest thing that the fleet had to a battle ship and had been designed with Romulan attackers in mind. Trip knew that Malcolm had made the right decision and he was glad that he’d be with T’Pol on her way to take up her new command. Their earlier arguments had been completely forgotten as Trip’s mood lightened and he realised that he never really had blamed anything on Malcolm. He had also discovered that whilst inactivity sucked big time, moving sucked even more when you only had half your usual lung capacity. Wheelchairs were the order of the day at first, which he hated, but then he discovered that moving on his own was absolutely exhausting. Phlox kept saying he needed to give it time, but after a month had gone by, Trip wondered if he’d ever be able to walk to the bathroom again without having to stop for a rest. There were also regular respiratory therapy sessions, during which Trip breathed into tubes and they tried to improve and gauge his lung capacity. The day he left the hospital, he wasn’t sure how to feel. He was on his own two feet, able to get from A to B pretty much unaided, but he still wasn’t as strong as he could be. He was definitely happy to be getting out of the hospital, but he was apprehensive at the same time. Leaving hospital meant that he was expected to take up his old life again and be fit for duty. It would take a couple of weeks to get to Deep Space One, but he wasn’t sure that would give him enough time to prepare. “You’re worried you’re not ready, aren’t you?” said Archer, from the doorway. He had come to pick Trip up from hospital. “I thought it was T’Pol and I that had the bond,” said Trip, looking up at his visitor. He registered the new uniform after a double take. “Admiral. You took the promotion. Congratulations.” Archer smiled. “Thanks. You know that they wouldn’t have given you this job if they didn’t think you could do it.” “Yes, but how much of it was T’Pol talking them into it.” “Phlox doesn’t make a habit of lying in official reports. He believed you’d recover enough to take up the position. As for the engineering side of things, your record speaks for itself.” “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cap…Admiral. I needed to hear that.” “We all need a little reassurance sometimes. You’re the finest engineer I’ve ever known, and don’t you forget that. Come on let’s get you out to the hover car.” Trip grabbed his walking stick, he still needed a little support, and Archer picked up Trip’s bag. “Can’t wait to see T’Pol. I miss her like hell.” “You remember when she first came on board. I never thought you’d be saying that about her.” “Things change. I can’t imagine living without her.” **** Admiral Archer was drowning in paperwork and beginning to regret his decision to take the promotion. He never would have believed that there was so much logistics involved in running Starfleet, or that it seemed to devolve to Admirals to work out every little problem. That was how he came to find himself in cramped accommodations on Starbase Two rather than back in his comfortable office at Starfleet HQ. It seemed that there were some interspecies issues on the Starbase that couldn’t be resolved by a mere Captain. To make matters worse other things had come up in his absence that he now had to deal with from the Starbase. Dauntless had hit some difficulties on a first contact, Endeavour needed to go back to dock for repairs after a fire fight with the Klingons but, as it was due for decommissioning in a year’s time, someone had to make a decision about whether it was worth the expense, promotion lists were overdue and there weren’t enough hours in the day for all the forms that he needed to fill-in in triplicate. His com sounded. His aide, Ensign Hanson, was calling. “Sir, I have a Captain T’Pol from Deep Space One on the line for you,” said Hanson. “T’Pol? Put her through,” said a surprised Archer, it was usually Trip who called to keep him updated on what was going on at Deep Space One. They had both settled in well and Trip seemed to be happy now that he was back with T’Pol and had an engineering department to play with again. T’Pol’s face appeared on the screen. “Admiral. You look well.” “So do you. I guess command must be suiting you.” “I am enjoying the challenge,” replied T’Pol. “However I have encountered two problems which I require your help with.” Archer noted that T’Pol was still as direct as ever, obviously Trip hadn’t managed to mellow her that much. “Problems? I find it hard to believe that there’s much that you and Trip can’t deal with together,” said Archer. The look in T’Pol’s eyes told him everything that he needed to know. “Trip’s one of the problems?” That was something that hadn’t changed, Trip and T’Pol still fought like cats and dogs. T’Pol nodded. “We had a new contingent of personnel arrive. They brought a number of minor viruses with them.” “You’re calling me because Trip has a cold?” “It was a cold. He refused to rest and it became viral pneumonia.” “Pneumonia? I’m guessing that with Trip’s pre-existing condition, it’s serious.” “Very, however he is still refusing to rest, and neither Phlox nor I have been able to persuade him to do so,” said T’Pol. “Even Trip isn’t that stupid. I’m guessing that this is linked to your other problem.” “We received a distress signal from Excalibur just over twenty four hours ago.” “Malcolm’s ship,” said Archer, understanding immediately why Trip would be working so hard. “It was patrolling the edge of the neutral zone when the call came in.” “You despatched a search party?” asked Archer. “Of course. USS Durandal and USS Athena were in the area and are searching as we speak. However, the Romulans are refusing us entry to the neutral zone to continue our search and are jamming our scans.” “Let me guess, Trip thinks that he can penetrate the jamming?” “He believes that he can alter the station’s long range scanners so that they can detect the Excalibur’s warp signature.” “So he’s working day and night to get it done whilst he’s suffering from pneumonia.” “That is correct.” “Tyrfing is in dock at the moment. I’ll be with you by tomorrow afternoon,” said Archer. Tyrfing was an Excalibur class vessel, Durandal and the namesake of the class, being the other two ships in that class, and it was easily capable of a sustained warp seven. Deep Space One was a day’s travel from Starbase Two at maximum warp. Archer hoped that Captain Austin wouldn’t mind leaving a little early, but then she did owe him a couple of favours, not least because he had recommended her to command Tyrfing. “I had not intended you to leave your current assignment. I was merely hoping that you could talk to him,” said T’Pol. “It’s no problem, T’Pol. One of the perks of being an Admiral is getting to order people around and being the one in charge. Tyrfing was headed in your direction anyway,” said Archer. In fact he was glad that T’Pol was giving him the opportunity to go travelling again and leave his paper work behind with a good excuse. “Very well, if it will not inconvenience you, then I look forward to your visit,” said T’Pol with that non-smile that she used more and more now. “Don’t worry, T’Pol. We’ll get Trip straightened out.” “Vulcans do not worry,” said T’Pol. Archer wondered if T’Pol knew what an accomplished liar she had become. ****End of Chapter Two**** In fact, it was a little over a day before Archer arrived at Deep Space One. Tyrfing was staying around to help out with the search before going on to its original assignment. Archer disembarked the ship and found T’Pol was waiting to greet him. For once he was travelling light, with no aides accompanying him, extra baggage or ceremonies on his arrival. It made a nice change and, even given the circumstances, he was pleased to get the opportunity to visit Trip and T’Pol. “It is good to see you, Admiral,” said T’Pol. “You too, Captain. Let’s deal with first things first. Where’s Trip hiding?” “The forward sensor array housing,” replied T’Pol. “He is not aware that you are coming, although I was unable to shield the fact that someone was arriving on Tyrfing. Thankfully, he is too engrossed in what he is doing to take time to probe more deeply.” T’Pol indicated for Archer to follow her and they wound their way through the maze like corridors of the recently reconstructed Deep Space Station. Deep Space One had originally been intended as a multi-species deep space outpost, however during the Romulan War it had become far more important as an early warning station and listening post. The Romulans had also realised its value and it had been almost destroyed by a concerted Romulan attack a year into the war. T’Pol had spent the best part of six months putting it back together again with Trip’s help and that of her crew. It was looking good but cables still dangled from the ceiling in places, indicating that there was more work to be completed. Finally they reached the forward sensor array housing and Archer located a familiar figure, working away at an open maintenance panel. There was a slight sheen to Trip’s pale skin and he had wrapped himself in a grey blanket. Occasionally he would stop what he was doing to cough violently before returning to his work. “Captain Tucker,” said Archer. Trip turned quickly at the sound of the familiar voice of his former commanding officer. “Admiral, what are you doing here?” asked Trip, then he turned to T’Pol. “You could have told me.” “I wanted it to be a surprise,” said T’Pol, without even a twitch of her eyebrows. “I had hoped for a better welcome, Trip,” replied Archer. “Admirals are allowed to go where they want, you know.” “Yes, sir, Admiral,” said Trip with a smile, before another coughing fit took hold. “Shouldn’t you be in sick bay?” asked Archer. “I don’t have time to lie around,” said Trip. He shivered a little and pulled the blanket closer around him. “Trip, you have a fever,” said Archer in alarm. He took in the pale, damp skin, the coughing and shivering. Archer could even hear the wheezing in Trip’s breaths. “I can still work. I’m not an invalid, you know,” said Trip. “We need to find Excalibur. If the Romulans have got her…” “I know Trip, but not at the expense of your own health. Brief your staff on what you’re doing and go to sickbay.” “It’s not that easy, Admiral. This isn’t exactly in the maintenance manual,” said Trip. Archer saw a look pass between Trip and T’Pol and knew that his verbal argument wasn’t the only one that was going on. There were a few moments of charged silence while Trip and T’Pol argued at the speed of thought. Trip’s hand gestures were enough to indicate that he didn’t like what T’Pol was saying, or rather thinking, to him. “Eshikh svai t’platlar,” said T’Pol out loud, looking significantly at Trip, once again excluding Archer from the conversation. “What does that mean?” asked Archer. “A desert rose has thorns,” said Trip, not looking happy. Archer was none the wiser as to why that should be important, but it was obviously of significance to Trip as he was still arguing. “I knew it was a mistake accepting a post in your command. Just because they gave you your promotion one month before mine, you think you can boss me around.” “I do not “boss you around”, I make command decisions. If you do not like it then you do not have to stay. You are a stubborn individual. I will carry you to sick bay if I have to,” said T’Pol. “Kicking and screaming if necessary.” “I have a better idea,” said Archer. “Captain Tucker, I hereby order you to present yourself to sickbay and not to leave until Doctor Phlox releases you.” “Admiral! I’ve got work to do,” protested Trip. “Captain, don’t make me get security,” said Archer. He sighed, if ordering Trip didn’t work then perhaps something else would. “Trip you promised me that you’d try to take care of yourself. If you won’t do it for me, think about what this is doing to T’Pol.” Trip shot Archer a dirty look, before he lent on a bulkhead and felt all the strength go out of him. He didn’t have to think about how this was affecting T’Pol, despite her best attempts she couldn’t shield or repress all her emotions in relation to him. “Fine, whatever you want,” said Trip. He handed the padd that he’d been working on to T’Pol. He brushed past his former CO and current CO, trying to be confident in his stride even if he didn’t feel confident. He had barely walked two steps when he stumbled and it was only Archer and T’Pol’s quick actions that stopped him hitting the deck. Trip felt reassurance from T’Pol and he realised that the thoughts he was broadcasting at that moment were pure worry and pain. He did his best to reign in his feelings and shield his thoughts as he knew what it did to T’Pol, but he didn’t think he was doing that well as T’Pol was still talking soothingly to him. Except her lips weren’t moving and that meant she was speaking through their bond. He had to be out of it if he couldn’t tell the difference, usually it was very obvious. Archer and T’Pol helped Trip limp along to the station’s sickbay, although it was clear that Trip was fading fast. The trio finally arrived at sickbay, where Phlox was waiting for them. “Let this be a lesson, Captain,” said Phlox as they helped Trip onto an empty biobed in the spacious sickbay. “If you had stayed in sickbay yesterday then you probably would have recovered in a day or so, instead I expect you’ll be spending the week in my care.” “Sorry, Doc,” mumbled Trip. “Just wanted to find Malcolm. Sorry to cause so much trouble.” “Next time, maybe you’ll listen to me,” said Phlox. “Although I seriously doubt you will learn from your mistakes.” “I have already chastised him for his stubbornness,” said T’Pol, it sounded to Archer almost as if she was telling the doctor off for being hard on Trip. She placed a cool hand on Trip’s forehead and he closed his eyes at the pleasant sensation. Archer noted that T’Pol wore a ring on her left ring finger, exactly where a wedding ring would have been on a human. Trip hadn’t told him that he and T’Pol had been married so he wondered what the ring signified in this case. The love in her touch and posture was obvious to anyone who cared to look. Phlox administered medication and finally Trip’s breathing eased and the lines of pain disappeared from his face. The doctor continued to work on his patient, attaching IV lines and oxygen tubes so that Trip could get well more quickly. Once Trip was properly settled, T’Pol and Archer moved off to one side so that they could talk. Trip’s eyes were closed but Archer doubted that he was sleeping, and even though they were trying to be quiet Archer would have bet money that Trip was listening in. “What’s the latest on Excalibur?” asked Archer. “All grids are negative so far, but with sensors functioning at less than optimal settings it is proving difficult to search efficiently,” said T’Pol. She looked down at the padd that Trip had handed her and paused for a moment. “However, I believe that Trip has given me the necessary instructions to adjust the main sensor array.” “Do you want a hand?” asked Archer. T’Pol glanced back at Trip, and Archer knew that she was torn between her duty and her t’hy’la. “Don’t mind me,” croaked Trip, eyes still shut. “Just find Excalibur.” Once again T’Pol hadn’t needed to voice her concern to Trip, he’d just known what she was thinking. Archer never failed to be amazed by his friends’ link. T’Pol was looking at Trip in a significant way, her face softening. “I’ll be fine,” said Trip, peeling his eyes open and blinking in T’Pol’s direction. From that Archer guessed T’Pol had said that she didn’t want to leave Trip alone while he was sick. “Tell her, Doc.” “He is in good hands,” said Phlox. “Very well,” said T’Pol, turning on her heel and exiting sickbay. Trip smiled at the view of her retreating form and Archer decided that there was nothing to do but follow her. **** Archer and T’Pol worked on the sensors together. Their usual roles were reversed as T’Pol gave instructions to Archer from Trip’s padd. Archer didn’t mind being the one who was doing the work as he doubted that he would have had any idea how to read Trip’s schematics. He was slightly surprised that T’Pol was able to work it out since Trip had his own short hand that he used when he was making notes. This was one of the times that Archer was extremely glad of their close bond. “How has Trip been?” asked Archer, as they worked. “His health has improved considerably since he was injured. He has been working full shifts for the last month. However, this has made him tired and Phlox was considering restricting him to part time duty again.” “Which, knowing Trip, he wasn’t too happy about,” said Archer. “Indeed. He has already violated medical orders regarding his working hours several times. The Doctor and I find this frustrating,” said T’Pol. “I’m sure frustrating isn’t the word,” said Archer. “Is he going to get any better? I don’t mean from the pneumonia, I mean generally. You said he was still tired.” “Phlox believes that he may be able to develop further treatments to help him, but without more treatment, the doctor thinks he will not improve substantially more. Trip is reluctant to take time off work for an operation which would require lengthy recovery time.” “He’s always taken his work seriously. Maybe too seriously. I’d hoped that after he put himself in the hospital, he’d start taking care of himself. I suppose I should have known better.” “He is not someone who takes advice easily,” replied T’Pol. She turned back to the open panel, padd in hand. “The amplification module is complete.” “Do we need to depolarise these couplings before we connect the module?” asked Archer. “I will ask Trip,” said T’Pol. “He is still awake and trying to listen to our conversation.” Archer smiled. Even sick, Trip could still be a handful. “He says it is not required,” said T’Pol after a second or two. “Once these connections are made, we should be able to activate the enhanced sensor array.” Archer nodded. He finished the work and then carefully replaced the covering. Jogging circuits now could mean that connections were dislodged and then they’d have to come back to find the problem which could take up time that they didn’t have. Archer and T’Pol left the sensor housing compartment and headed up to the control room, where T’Pol ousted the Ensign who was currently sitting at the science station. She deftly pressed buttons on the control panel and began her sensor sweeps of the surrounding area. “The enhanced sensors are functioning at optimal efficiency,” she reported. “Are you picking anything up?” asked Archer. “Not as yet. To scan the whole area will take a number of hours,” said T’Pol. “I have programmed the computer to carry out the required search pattern. Our continuous presence here is not required and I suggest we use this time to rest.” Archer knew that T’Pol meant that he should get some rest, she would be going to sickbay to visit Trip. “Okay, I’ll admit that it’s been a long day. Do you have a bunk for me?” “Of course. I will show you to the guest quarters,” said T’Pol. **** Archer hadn’t found it easy to get to sleep. No matter how many starbases and ships he visited, Enterprise was the only one that had ever felt like home. He travelled so much now on ships that he didn’t command, weren’t his, that he always felt like an interloper. Even here on Deep Space One, it was T’Pol’s station, her baby, and he’d be moving on as soon as Excalibur’s disappearance was resolved, one way or another. He never thought that he would be looking forward to being back on Earth, but these days it was the closest thing he had to a home. He’d even bought an apartment in San Francisco, which he’d resisted at first, not wanting to be tied down in case he was called for deep space duty again. But Admirals didn’t command deep space missions, so he’d given in and bought himself a place he could at least try to call home. Trip had always complained when he was on Earth that there were no vibrations to be felt through the floor, which wasn’t natural, he claimed. Archer was beginning to strongly see what he meant by that. When the com beeped at him, he knew he hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours. However, he was used to running on whatever sleep he could get. “Archer,” he said blearily when he located the com unit. “We have found something on long range sensors,” said T’Pol’s unmistakeable tones. “Is it Excalibur?” “Unknown. Tyrfing is still in dock and I would like your permission to accompany it to investigate the readings.” “You have my permission, but I’m coming with you,” said Archer. “I am not sure that would be wise,” said T’Pol. “You should stay on Deep Space One and assume command in my absence.” “Sorry, T’Pol, it’s a package deal. You want to take Tyrfing out, then I’m coming too. Captain Austin owes me a favour or two.” “Very well, I will meet you at the docking bay in fifteen minutes,” said T’Pol. The connection fell silent. Archer allowed himself a small smile before he concentrated on finding clothes and getting dressed. By the time he arrived, T’Pol was waiting for him and he was well aware that he was late. T’Pol of course couldn’t complain out loud about the time keeping of a superior officer, however her body language managed to clearly indicate her displeasure at the delay. “The signal is coming from the Romulan Neutral Zone,” said T’Pol, handing Archer a padd. “I believe I can also modify the sensors on Tyrfing using Trip’s notes. We can then take more readings once we are closer to the source of emission.” “Good idea,” said Archer, scanning the padd. T’Pol turned her head and looked down the empty corridor, just as Archer was about to question her further. “What is it?” he asked. Then he saw why T’Pol was looking. Coming around the corner, practically hanging onto the wall, was a forlorn looking figure with Captain’s pips and an Engineer’s red stripe on his uniform. “Trip!” exclaimed Archer. “Don’t say it,” said Trip holding up a hand to stop the tirade that he knew was coming from either his t’hy’la or his friend, probably both. “You want to modify the sensors on Tyrfing, you need me to do it. They aren’t the same as the ones on DS1 and my notes aren’t going to help.” “How were you able to conceal your leaving sickbay from me?” asked T’Pol. Trip shrugged. “You were busy analysing the sensor readings. I just made sure my shields didn’t slip and I was home dry. I’ve had a good long rest and Phlox’s meds have done me the world of good, so don’t bother arguing with me, I’m coming along.” “You can barely stand,” said Archer. “You aren’t even cleared for duty, let alone shipboard duty.” “I can do it, Admiral. Just give me a chance to show you,” said Trip. “Trip, you’ve got nothing to prove to me. I know that when you’re well you’re very capable, but you’ve got a bad case of pneumonia and wearing yourself out is only going to make things worse. Please, just go back to sickbay and we’ll keep you updated on everything that’s going on.” “This is extremely illogical,” said T’Pol, exasperation colouring her voice and proving just how frustrated with Trip she was. Archer hadn’t heard her use the L word for some time. “Love and friendship don’t mix with logic, you know that, t’hy’la,” said Trip. “Look, Tyrfing’s got a sickbay just as good as the one here, we could take Phlox with us and, when I’m not working, I promise I’ll be in sickbay. We won’t even be away from the station that long. Please, you know I have to do this. This is Malcolm’s ship that’s out there. He pulled me out of more scrapes than I care to remember, this is my chance to return the favour.” He added mentally, and prove that I really never blamed him for not coming to the rescue that one last time. He heard T’Pol answer mentally also. “You have already apologised for that false accusation and he accepted the apology. As the Captain said, you have nothing to prove to any of us.” “Even if I don’t have anything to prove, he’s my friend. I’m not backing down T’Pol. You’re going to have to throw me in the brig if you expect me to stay here.” Trip heard the amusement in T’Pol’s mind at that prospect and wondered if his bluff was about to be called. Instead she said out loud, “I will inform the Doctor that he will be joining us.” Archer looked surprised but had obviously decided not to comment on T’Pol’s change of heart. “Okay, let’s get on board and I’ll break the news to Tyrfing’s Captain and Chief Engineer that we’re going to be modifying the ship’s sensors.” ****End of Chapter Three**** Tyrfing was a beautiful ship, there was no doubt about that in Trip’s mind. Her warp engine purred like a whole basket full of kittens and made the floor vibrate pleasantly. Until they were underway, Trip hadn’t realised just how much he’d missed being onboard a ship. He would have really enjoyed being Chief Engineer on one of the Excalibur class, but if the past six months had taught him anything it was that he had to let things go. For example, he couldn’t stay up as late as he used to be able to, or work as hard as he had, or walk for long distances or even fight off the common cold in a reasonable amount of time. Those were just things that he had to live with and so was the fact that his days of being Chief Engineer on the flagship of the fleet were over. Trip was rational about it, but that didn’t stop it hurting a little to watch the engineering crew of Tyrfing doing things that he couldn’t. Just to rub salt into the wound, when the Chief Engineer of Tyrfing was summoned it was someone he never would have give an Engineering job to ever again. Commander Kelby. He had finally been given a promotion that couldn’t be taken away and, to make up for the fact that Trip had once cost him a promotion, he was making Trip’s life as difficult as he could. At first he had refused to sign off on the sensor modifications, then, when Captain Austin ordered him to sign off, he had insisted that Trip follow every Starfleet regulation in force when it came to actually performing the work. That meant full safety gear, following exact routes for circuit connections, testing everything to various standards and getting his completed work signed off by Kelby. Luckily Admiral Archer had put his foot down and told Kelby that there wasn’t time to do it by the book. This of course just put Kelby’s back up more, because he thought he was being picked on. Trip found himself tucked away in a cramped conduit space next to a Jeffrey’s Tube, being “supervised” by Kelby. Everything Trip did was watched by the Chief Engineer as if he was an Ensign straight out of training. Every so often Phlox would demand that he stop what he was doing, take a break and be given hyposprays full of various medications. Given all these distractions, no one was more surprised than Trip when they reached their destination and all he had left to do was replace the sensor housings. He headed to the bridge to check the connections there and found T’Pol and Archer waiting for him. T’Pol was once again at the science station, checking the new sensors were functioning. “Everything appears to be functioning at optimal levels,” she said as Trip stepped out of the turbo lift. “I am detecting the same readings as we intercepted on Deep Space One. It will take me a moment to refine the sensor frequencies and receive more detail.” “Ma’am,” said the communications officer, “I’m picking up a faint signal. It sounds like a distress signal from a civilian vessel.” “I guess we know why Excalibur went into the Neutral Zone then,” observed Archer. “Seems likely,” said Captain Austin. “Can’t imagine Captain Watanabe not stopping to help a civilian ship.” “You know him well?” asked Archer. “We were at the academy together,” said Austin. “Malcolm might have been a bit more wary though,” said Trip. “Could be a trap.” “I have detected four ships in the Neutral Zone,” said T’Pol. “One of them matches Excalibur. I am not detecting weapons fire but energy readings indicate that all four ships are armed.” “Can you identify the other three?” asked Trip. “Two are Romulan. The third is a civilian ship of Earth origin.” “So Admiral, it’s your call, what do you want to do?” asked Austin. “I don’t see that we have much choice. Excalibur can take on a Romulan war bird, but two might be pushing it. They should still be able to make a run for it though. Something’s keeping them there and I’m guessing that they’re protecting the civilian ship.” “Two Excalibur class ships should be capable of taking down the Romulans,” said Trip. “We would be violating the Treaty of Alpha Trianguli,” pointed out T’Pol. “This could lead to a second Romulan War.” “Excalibur has already violated the treaty and so have the Romulans,” replied Trip. “We could further complicate things by also entering the Neutral Zone,” said T’Pol. “Or simplify them. I bet the Romulans won’t like the odds anymore if we show up. They might run for it,” said Trip. “If you two are finished with your debate…” said Archer. “Sorry, Admiral,” said Trip. Archer looked at the view screen in front of him. This was not a decision to be taken lightly, he would be risking the lives of the ninety five crew members plus some very good friends of his. Leaving a ship to the mercy of the Romulans was not an option either however and Excalibur had a crew in danger too. “Take us into the Neutral Zone, Ensign Fisher. Plot a direct course to Excalibur using T’Pol’s sensor data.” “Yes, sir,” replied the helmswoman. The Neutral Zone was only one light year across, and it took them just under a day to reach Excalibur and the Romulan ships. It was obvious as they approached that damage had been sustained on all sides. Excalibur looked as if it had taken the worst of it. “Hail Excalibur, Ensign Riley,” said Austin. “They’re hailing us, Ma’am,” replied the Ensign. “So are the Romulans.” “On screen, Excalibur first,” commanded Austin. “Malcolm!” said Trip in alarm at the picture that greeted them. Lieutenant Commander Reed sat in the captain’s chair, his arm in a sling and blood on his face from an open gash over his left eye that still looked fresh. “Trip!” said Reed in surprise. “Admiral, T’Pol. What are you doing on Tyrfing?” “Looking for you,” said Archer. “What happened, Malcolm? We’d better make this quick, our Romulan friends are getting restless.” “We detected a distress signal from a civilian transport ship that had strayed into the Neutral Zone due to a navigation error. Captain Watanabe decided to answer the distress call and enter the Neutral Zone. At first we were lucky but then the Romulans spotted us. We tried to explain that we were on a rescue mission but they attacked us. The transport tried to provide support but they only have limited weaponry. We fought them to a stand still but it cost us dearly. Captain Watanabe is dead, sir. Commander Street is in sickbay, critically injured. Commander Zukov and half his engineering staff have been exposed to dangerous levels of radiation and are now going through decon. Doctor Sonok expects all of them to have severe radiation sickness. I’m currently the ranking officer.” “We need to get you and those civilians out of here,” said Archer. “Agreed, but Excalibur’s warp drive was damaged in the fight and even if we weren’t dead in the water, the civilian transport was damaged too and on a good day their maximum speed is warp three. That’s a lot slower than the Romulans,” replied Reed. “The Romulans are damaged too,” said T’Pol, looking at he sensor readings. “Their warp drive and weapons, yes, but we have another problem. They put in a call for reinforcements. In approximately twelve hours there’s going to be a lot more than two Romulan War-birds to worry about.” “So we have three ships, two of which are too badly damaged to go to warp and an unknown number of approaching Warbirds,” said Archer. “Can we contact Durandal and Athena to act as reinforcements?” “The Romulans are still jamming long range communication,” said T’Pol. “If we can get closer to the edge of the Neutral Zone then we may be able to break through the jamming.” Trip moved over to the science station, an arm wrapped around his ribs as he did so. “First of all someone needs to go over there and see if the warp engine’s repairable. If it isn’t, I’ve got an idea that might work, but it’s never been done like this before, as far as I know.” “I’m open to options,” said Archer. “We could extend Tyrfing’s warp field around Excalibur and tow her out of here. Then all we’d have to do it transfer the civilians onto the two ships. We wouldn’t be able to make warp seven but we could probably manage warp five.” “Is that even possible?” asked Austin. “Columbia and Enterprise did it,” said Archer, tentatively. “The situation was different. Both ships were already travelling at warp. Tyrfing would have to tow Excalibur to impulse speed and then extend the warp field,” said T’Pol. “Tyrfing has a grappling hook. It shouldn’t be a problem,” replied Trip. T’Pol could feel Trip’s thoughts building the plan and working out the details of the implementation. When it came to engineering projects, Trip was not logical, but he was thorough, she could see the plan laid out. Occasional flashes of remembered schematics were brought up and noted, before Trip’s thoughts moved to who would be best to do the work. She saw faces of Enterprise crew members appear in Trip’s mind before they were quickly dismissed as unavailable, instead he concentrated on specialisms, not knowing Tyrfing or Excalibur’s crew. Then he raised a question in his own mind. Someone was going to need to go over to Excalibur to look at the impulse drive, install the correct programs, monitor things, and he could think of only one person who could do that. “No,” said T’Pol. “You are not going to Excalibur.” Trip looked at T’Pol, surprised, and she realised that he hadn’t yet voiced his plan to go to Excalibur, merely thought it. “I’m the only person who can,” said Trip. “Not all of Excalibur’s engineers are suffering from radiation poisoning,” said T’Pol. “But their Chief Engineer is, and this is going to need someone with experience,” Trip pointed out. “This isn’t like bumper cars. We’re only going to get one shot at this.” “Hold it,” said Archer. “I haven’t said that we’re even doing it yet.” “Well?” asked Trip. Archer gave Trip a look at his tone and lack of “sir”. “Does the Tyrfing have enough power to get out of the neutral zone with Excalibur in tow?” “If we transfer all available power to the warp field,” said T’Pol. “Should give us forty eight hours, enough time to get us the hell out of dodge and then some,” said Trip. “We’ll be pushing the engine to its limit but she should be able to take it.” “Columbia was only able to sustain the warp field for a couple of minutes,” said Reed. “Things have moved on since then, Malcolm. Tyrfing and Excalibur both have GenFour engines. That’s four iterations on from Columbia’s engine. As much as I hate to admit it, Enterprise is a bit out of date these days.” “Trip, if the warp field fails, Excalibur will be torn apart,” said Reed. “I know, and if it looks like it’s failing we’ll drop back to impulse. I can rig something up that gives us an early warning,” said Trip. “How soon can we get this set up?” asked Archer. “Couple of hours,” said Trip. T’Pol was quietly seething, Trip could feel it. She was aware that this would mean more work for Trip and what that would probably mean for his health. “So do I get to go to the Excalibur?” asked Trip. “Take Phlox with you, sounds like they could use him over there,” said Archer. “Malcolm, are your docking bays able to receive shuttles?” “Yes, sir. Starboard bay is still pressurised. We’ll be waiting for you. Excalibur out,” said Reed and the screen went blank. “Admiral, Captain Tucker is not fit enough to go to Excalibur,” said T’Pol. Trip winced. When T’Pol used his rank he knew he was in trouble. “I know that, T’Pol,” said Archer. “That’s why Phlox is going with him and Captain Austin is going to send a team of Engineers over that he can tell what to do.” “Hey, I don’t need a whole load of people getting in my way,” said Trip. “You’ll do what I tell you, Captain,” said Archer. “You’re going to sit down, and order people around, and that is all. Do I make myself clear?” Trip looked like a startled rabbit. “Yes, sir.” “I will be briefing Phlox and Commander Reed to that effect as well, so don’t think you’ll get away with it once you’re on Excalibur. Satisfied, T’Pol?” “Yes, sir,” said T’Pol, somewhat meekly. “Good, now that’s settled, let’s get moving,” said Archer. “Admiral, we’re being hailed by the Romulans again,” said Ensign Riley. “Put them through, Ensign,” said Archer. As usual the Romulans didn’t use a visual component to their communication. “I am Commander Tamek of the Imperial Romulan Warbird Evarra. You have no business in the Neutral Zone, I suggest that you leave immediately,” said the imposing voice of a male Romulan. “My name is Admiral Jonathan Archer, currently of the Federation Starship Tyrfing. We are here on a rescue mission, which is allowed for by the treaty of Alpha Trianguli.” “The treaty states that permission to enter the Neutral Zone must be sought from the local Romulan authorities. That permission was denied to your search party and I received no notification that any ship named Tyrfing requested permission.” “The nature of the situation meant that we had to act quickly, Commander. Romulan ships are also supposed to seek permission, Commander, and I don’t recall any such request.” “We were reacting to a violation of the Neutral Zone,” said Commander Tamek. “It was a civilian ship with a navigation error and you attacked it,” said Archer. “It was armed,” said Commander Tamek. “Its weapons aren’t a match for even one Warbird, let alone two, Commander,” replied Archer. “They certainly didn’t pose a threat.” “That is for us to decide, Admiral. Certainly the second ship to violate the Neutral Zone was well armed, as you can see from the state of our ships. Unfortunately your scanners will have shown you that I am currently in no position to enforce the treaty but we will be taking this treaty violation up at the highest level. I should also warn you that we have reinforcements arriving and I suggest you leave before they get here. My fellow Commanders will have working weapons and they will not show the mercy that I have.” The Romulan Commander cut the connection. “Charming as ever,” commented Trip, sarcastically. **** Trip left T’Pol with instructions on how to set up everything on Tyrfing, before he got on the shuttle to Excalibur. He arrived on Excalibur with Phlox and a team of four engineers, and they were met by a young Ensign in the shuttle bay. “Where’s Lieutenant Commander Reed?” asked Trip. “In Main Engineering, sir,” said the Ensign. “What’s he doing there?” asked Trip. “Helping with the repairs, sir,” replied the Ensign. “Commander Reed is helping with repairs? Let’s hope he hasn’t made things worse,” said Trip, heading towards Engineering, his entourage following him. Malcolm was a great Armoury Officer but he made a lousy Engineer. When it came to the warp drive he knew just enough to be dangerous, in other words he knew enough to break it but not fix it. Trip entered Engineering to find it sparsely crewed and Reed standing by the warp engine. “Malcolm, get away from that engine before you break something,” said Trip. “She’s all yours, Captain,” said Reed, with a smile. “I don’t think there’s much to be done anyway. As far as I can tell there’s been a catastrophic failure of the warp coil.” “You don’t carry a spare?” “According to the parts manifest, it was in cargo bay three. Which no longer exists,” replied Reed. “Besides that isn’t the only problem we have. The cooling system’s down. Even if we could get the warp engine back up we couldn’t turn it on.” Phlox approached Reed with his scanner. “Commander, your arm is broken and you have a mild concussion. You should be in sick bay.” “Sick bay is rather crowded already, Doctor,” replied Reed. “Besides I gather that I’m not the only walking wounded.” He pointedly looked at Trip. “I keep telling everyone that it’s just a little pneumonia. I’m fine.” “Even if I did believe that, the Admiral’s orders were very clear. You’re to supervise only. Is this your engineering team?” asked Reed indicating the four officers with red trim on their uniforms standing behind Trip. “Yes, Tyrfing’s finest. Lieutenant Flintoff and Ensigns West, Julius and Ohta. We’ve got a lot of systems to rig up if this is going to work, so we’d better get started.” “I have your station prepared for you,” said Reed and indicated the main Engineering control panel. It had a chair placed beside it, obviously specially put there for Trip. “Since when do I need a chair?” asked Trip, annoyed. “Since Admiral Archer made it very clear that you were my responsibility and that if I didn’t take good care of you he’d make sure my next posting was to the Ice Wastes of Andoria,” replied Reed. To make matters worse T’Pol took that moment to chime in with her two cents. “The Admiral will be most displeased if you disobey his orders. I suggest you make use of the chair.” Sometimes this bond thing was more trouble than it was worth. Trip sighed and went and sat down. “I’m needed on the bridge. Com me when you’re ready,” said Reed. Trip nodded, already engrossed in the engineering information in front of him. Phlox sidled up to Trip with a hypospray and administered it before Trip could protest. “What was that?” “Your hourly antiviral, combined with a painkiller and something to help your breathing. I noticed that you were out of breath earlier.” “Just tired, doc, and these days I’m always out of breath,” said Trip. “I would have preferred it if you had not persuaded the Admiral to let you come over to Excalibur,” said Phlox. “You should still be in sickbay.” “I just need to keep going for few more hours. Once this is set up, I’ll get some rest. I promise. And once we’ve got Excalibur out of the neutral zone, I’m all yours.” “I will hold you to that, Captain Tucker. If you need me I’ll be in sickbay assisting Dr Sonok,” said Phlox. With that, Phlox bustled out of Main Engineering. “Lieutenant Flintoff,” shouted Trip. “Look, at these readings.” He pointed the young female Engineer to the impulse drive’s telemetry. “This is definitely salvageable. There’s no point trying to get the warp engine up and running again, Malcolm was right. The repairs we need to make would just take too long even if we did have the parts. If we can get the impulse drive working then Tyrfing won’t need to tow Excalibur up to impulse speed and that’s one less thing to go wrong.” “Yes, sir,” said Flintoff, “I’ll get the team on it.” “I’ll set up the monitoring systems and check over the engine management programs. Let me know how you get on.” “Yes, sir,” replied the Lieutenant and called the team members that she needed before racing away to carry out the task assigned. **** The evacuation of the civilian transport hadn’t taken as long as Archer had feared. Captain Austin had an efficient crew that had managed the transfer of personnel well, turning the cargo bays into temporary accommodation. Archer had taken up residence in the Captain’s ready room, at Austin’s insistence. She had deferred to him, pointing out that she only had one ship to worry about whereas he had three, even if only temporarily. “Our calculations are complete. Tyrfing is ready to extend its warp field,” said T’Pol, stepping into the room. “I have installed the monitoring programs as per Captain Tucker’s instructions.” “Captain Austin tells me that the evacuation is complete. I guess as soon as we get word from Malcolm and Trip, we’ll be ready to try this.” “I am concerned about Trip,” said T’Pol. “He is exhausted. He is doing his best to hide his discomfort from me but he is not as skilled at shielding as he could be. We should bring him back to Tyrfing.” “You have to let him do this, T’Pol. He needs his independence and he needs to be able to feel useful. Ever since the incident back on Enterprise, he’s felt he isn’t pulling his weight. Every time he calls me it’s what he talks about. He’s been on light duties or part time ever since he got out of hospital and it’s hard for him to accept that things aren’t the way they were.” “I realise that he has been having difficulty adapting, but he will have to accept his condition at some point. Things seemed to be getting better, but Excalibur’s disappearance has made things more difficult again. I am doing everything in my power to help him, but I cannot stand by while he does himself harm. I am finding it difficult to understand his motivations at the moment. He continually shuts me out.” “I know you care for him, and I don’t pretend to understand this bond that you have, but you have to talk to each other as well. Trip shuts people out when he’s hurting and sometimes he needs his space. Just this once let him have his fun. He’s got Phlox with him and Malcolm keeping an eye on him. Once he’s back, I know Phlox has a long stay in sickbay planned for him and you can have a long talk. It will all work out, believe me.” “Very well. If you believe that he will be fine, then I will accept your assurance,” replied T’Pol. Archer hoped that he was right and he wasn’t just giving Trip rope to hang himself with. He was just as worried about Trip as T’Pol was, but he knew how depressed Trip had been while he was in hospital. Trip had been happy when he’d received his posting to Deep Space One, but since then he’d been frustrated by the barriers that had been placed in front of him. Trip was doing his best to put a brave face on things but every conversation he had always included a gripe about how Phlox wouldn’t let him do his job. Being an Engineer defined Trip, it wasn’t just what he did, it was a part of who he was. At least this way Archer had done everything that he could to make sure Trip was safe while he did what he had to and now he just had to hope it was enough. **** Despite appearances, Trip was not stupid. He knew that he was too ill to be pushing his body and he was beginning to feel it again. Phlox’s shots were keeping him upright but they wouldn’t keep him going forever. It was only his stubborn streak, that had been showings its head more often these last six months, that kept him going. He couldn’t remember a time since the incident that he hadn’t been in some degree of pain or at least discomfort. If Phlox had his way then he’d have been permanently drugged up to the eyeballs, but Trip didn’t like to be out of control of his own body. Strong painkillers slowed his reactions and dulled his mind so he would only allow Phlox to give him the weaker ones that didn’t work so well. “We’re ready,” said Trip to Reed, as he limped onto the bridge. “Trip, you look terrible. For god’s sake, sit down,” said Reed vacating the Captain’s chair for Trip. He grabbed Trip by the arm and helped him over to the chair. Trip didn’t complain, which worried Reed even more. His breathing didn’t sound good and the persistent cough was back. “I’m calling Phlox.” Trip closed his eyes. “Call Tyrfing first and let them know that we’re ready.” Reed ignored Trip and commed Phlox before he hailed Tyrfing. Phlox arrived a few moments later, scanned Trip and shook his head. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I’m going to have to take you to sickbay,” said Phlox. Trip’s eyes snapped open. “No. I need to monitor the field extension.” Reed crouched down beside the Captain’s chair. “Trip, you’ve done all you can. Let Lieutenant Flintoff take care of the field extension.” “She’s never seen it done before. It’s my job, Malcolm.” “Commander, I have Captain T’Pol on Tyrfing hailing us,” said the Ensign at the com station. “Great,” said Trip. He had purposely been shutting out T’Pol because he knew what she’d say. “On screen,” said Reed. A scene of Tyrfing’s bridge appeared on the screen. “Tyrfing is prepared to extend its warp field,” said T’Pol, who surprisingly, ignored her t’hy’la. She was sat at the Engineering Station on board Tyrfing, which was not her usual post. Trip pushed himself out of the Captain’s chair and shakily wound his way to the engineering station. He checked the readouts in front of him. “We’re ready to get underway.” Phlox followed Trip and once more prepared a hypospray. “This will make you feel better, but you need to go to sickbay in the next couple of hours or I won’t be held responsible for the consequences.” “Understood, Doc, just give me the shot and I’ll deal with the consequences once we’re underway,” said Trip. Phlox didn’t look happy but he injected Trip with the hypospray anyway. “I’ll be in sickbay if you need me. I already have a number of sick engineers to care for,” said Phlox before he entered the turbo lift. Trip didn’t miss the dig. Phlox didn’t need another sick engineer to look after, but it wasn’t as if Trip wanted to be sick. He had to keep going, the crew of Excalibur were depending on him. He was one of the few people who had ever seen this done before. Admittedly the last time this had been done, he’d set up things on Columbia before taking a space walk across to Enterprise, so he hadn’t exactly been present for the moment they merged fields, but he’d certainly been around when Enterprise shut down her warp core and had to do a cold restart in less than two minutes. In a few years time they’d probably think nothing of extending a warp field around another ship, in fact they’d probably have it as a built in program, but at the moment this was still new territory. “Take us to impulse, Ensign,” said Reed, who had taken the Captain’s chair again. As the highest ranking officer currently on duty it was his right to sit there and Trip noted that it suited him pretty well. “Aye, sir,” replied the helmsman. T’Pol suddenly spoke again, this time to her own bridge crew. “Captain Austin, I am picking up some approaching sensor contacts.” “Are you using the enhanced sensor array?” asked Trip. “They are the only sensors that are currently working, given the Romulan jamming,” replied T’Pol. “You should be able to resolve contacts into individual signals by correcting for frequency drift,” said Trip. “I am already doing so, Captain,” replied T’Pol. Trip felt T’Pol’s annoyance at him and realised he was patronising her by telling her things she already knew, so decided to keep quiet. “There are three approaching Romulan war birds.” Admiral Archer joined T’Pol at the Engineering console. “ETA?” he asked. “To our current position, approximately thirty minutes,” replied T’Pol. “At the speed we’re going to be travelling at it should take them at least five hours to catch us,” said Trip, quickly doing some mental calculations. “By which time we won’t even be a quarter of a light year away from here,” said Reed. “Then let’s get moving as quickly as possible,” said Archer. “We’ve matched speeds with Excalibur and we’re ready to deploy the grappling hook,” said Austin. “Co-ordinates have been verified and we’ll hit Excalibur on the nose.” “Let’s get this over with then,” said Reed. “Whenever you’re ready, Lieutenant Pietersen,” said Austin to her Armoury Officer. “Yes, Ma’am. Firing grappling hook.” Trip felt a small shudder pass through Excalibur when the grappling hook hit and the magnets came on. “Grappling hook is secure. Tyrfing is now towing Excalibur,” said T’Pol, checking the tension on the cable and the hull of both ships. Trip was doing the same at his end too. “Looking good from here. Not too much strain on the cable or the hull plating,” said Trip. “We’re ready for stage two.” “Extending warp field,” said T’Pol. “Okay,” said Trip. “Now comes the hard part, we need to accelerate up to warp. Easy does it.” “Increasing to warp zero point two five,” said T’Pol. “So far so good, take her up to point five.” “Increasing to warp zero point five.” “Trip, we’re not going to get away from the Romulans if we don’t speed things up a bit,” said Archer. “If we don’t do this slowly, we’ll tear both ships apart,” said Trip. “If we don’t get nearer to the edge of the Neutral Zone before those Romulans appear, there won’t be a ship to worry about,” replied Archer. Trip didn’t look exactly happy but he checked his readings again. “T’Pol, let’s try this in half factor jumps. I think the structure can take it but let’s keep an eye on things all the same.” “Increasing to warp one,” said T’Pol. “Structural integrity is holding. Warp one point five. Warp two.” “Hold it,” said Trip, suddenly. A shudder ran through Excalibur unexpectedly. A small red light flickered urgently at him. “Malcolm, you said there was a breech in cargo bay three.” “More like cargo bay three was completely destroyed. Is that important?” asked Reed. “Every part of the hull contributes to structural integrity, if you take a piece of it away you weaken the whole thing. It could mean that we can’t get above warp two. Damn.” “Can we do anything?” asked Reed. “We could brace the area around the hull breech. Depends how much of the superstructure was destroyed. Lieutenant Flintoff should have a better idea since Tyrfing and Excalibur are the same basic design. Get her down there to take a look and start setting up the braces, if she thinks it will work,” said Trip. The orders were passed on to the Lieutenant and the two ships waited for the Engineering team to report back. Another judder ran through the floor plating of Excalibur. “Are the inertial dampers functioning at optimum levels?” asked T’Pol. “First thing I checked,” replied Trip. “They’re called dampers for a reason, they don’t cut inertia completely.” “Flintoff to Tucker, you were right, sir. We’re missing a load bearing bulkhead, but I think we can brace it. Give us a few minutes to set it up.” “Okay, Lieutenant, as quick as you can,” replied Trip. “Did you guys on Tyrfing get that?” “Yes, Trip. Can we maintain warp two while the repairs are carried out?” asked Archer. “We can try, but until we get those braces in place we’re on borrowed time,” said Trip. “How far away are the Romulans, T’Pol?” “They are approximately ten minutes away from the abandoned civilian transport,” replied T’Pol. “How long before they catch up with us?” “At our current speed, approximately one hour. There is something else that you should be aware of,” added T’Pol. “What is it?” asked Archer. “Due to the increased proximity of the ships pursuing us, I have been able to detect an identification marking. One of the ships following us is the IRW Virideth, Admiral Valdore’s ship.” “The commander of the Romulan fleet at the battle of Cheron,” said Archer. “He’s not exactly one of your biggest fans, Admiral,” put in Trip. “After the crushing defeat they suffered at Cheron that isn’t exactly a surprise,” said Captain Austin. “This is personal,” said Archer. “It goes back to the Romulan drone incident, which Valdore masterminded, but there’s been a lot more since then. He’s a bitter man and he knows how to hold a grudge.” “Of all the Romulans that we could have run into, he’s the least likely to listen to reason,” said Reed. “No Romulan listens to reason,” said Captain Austin. Archer was aware of Austin’s past run-ins with Romulans. She’d been First Officer on NX03 Challenger when it had become a casualty of the war and had barely escaped with her life. Her Captain hadn’t been quite so lucky, which in itself was enough to hate the Romulans, but they’d also lost thirty-seven crewmen in the attack, which was nearly half of Challenger’s crew. The remaining members of the crew abandoned ship and were picked up by Enterprise, which had been on its way to answer Challenger’s distress call. They barely got out of the area before Challenger’s warp core went critical and destroyed the ship. Of course Enterprise had lost people during the war as well, as had most of the frontline ships, but Challenger’s loss had been early in the conflict and therefore was felt particularly deeply. Archer was brought out of his thoughts by Lieutenant Flintoff on Excalibur letting them know that the bracing was complete and she was ready to try increasing speed again. Trip gave the go ahead and T’Pol began her gradual speed increases again. “Increasing to warp two point five,” said T’Pol. “Take her to warp three,” said Trip, after checking that the extra warp factor wasn’t placing undue strain on the bracing. “Warp three,” signalled T’Pol. “Warp three point five.” “This is looking good. I think we can risk the jump to warp four,” replied Trip. Archer could tell that Trip and T’Pol were communicating on another level and their spoken comments were very much for the benefit of the bridge crew on the two ships. There were several systems that needed to be monitored and they weren’t reeling off telemetry readings to each other, that information was passing silently between them. T’Pol gave a small nod which wasn’t in answer to anything. “Increasing to warp four,” said T’Pol. “I am detecting some strain on Tyrfing’s engine but it is still within expected boundaries. I’m transferring all available power to the warp field.” “Excalibur has transferred all available power to hull integrity so we should be fine to go to warp five,” replied Trip. “Increasing to warp five,” said T’Pol. “Warp five is steady and holding.” “Excalibur isn’t showing any undue stress, at least not more than we expected,” added Trip. “Good work, Trip,” said Archer. “All we have to do now is wait for the Romulans to catch us,” said Austin, bitterly. “Hopefully by that point we’ll be close enough to Athena and Durandal that they’ll think twice about attacking,” replied Archer. “You know, I’m not feeling so good,” said Trip. “I think I’ll go lie down.” Trip took two steps away from his station and nearly fell flat on his face. It was only because Reed had leapt out of his chair and grabbed Trip by the elbow that he hadn’t hit the deck. On Tyrfing, T’Pol was already half out of her seat, before she remembered that there was nothing she could do from where she was. “Sickbay, now,” said Reed. “Good idea, Malcolm,” said Trip and promptly passed out. **** Sickbay on Excalibur was crowded. In fact it was so crowded that the corridors had been turned into a makeshift ward for all the patients that needed beds and treatment. The majority of the injured were victims of radiation poisoning. Members of the medical staff tended to the crewmembers, moving quietly about while caring for the injured. Reed hated this corridor, it was an ongoing reminder of people that he had failed to protect. This was the burden of command and the people on the beds in the corridor were his responsibility. That included one stubborn Engineer. Trip was lying on a makeshift bed. Portable bio-monitors had been attached to the walls next to each bed along the corridor to keep the medical staff alerted to their patients’ condition. The patient Reed had come to see seemed to be asleep and he had no idea how to read the monitor above the bed to confirm that. Phlox had hung bags of fluids on a stand by the bed that dripped down a long, thin tube into Trip’s vein. Reed assumed that they were drugs to kill the virus that was causing the pneumonia and eventually make Trip better. Oxygen was being provided through a nasal cannula once more and no doubt other aerosol medication. It reminded Reed of the last time he’d seen Trip in hospital, when his friend had still had substantial recovery time ahead of him. “Oh Trip,” said Reed with a sigh as he squatted down beside the bed. “The Admiral should never have let you come.” Trip stirred. “And if he hadn’t you’d still be dead in the water, Commander,” he murmured. “I didn’t think you were awake,” said Reed. “Corridors aren’t exactly the best of places to try to get some shut-eye,” replied Trip and broke into a coughing fit. “Do you want me to get Phlox?” asked Reed. Trip waved negatively at him as the coughing subsided. “A little cough is the least of my problems. How’s the warp field holding up?” Reed refrained from telling Trip that his cough was anything but little. “No problems so far. Your Lieutenant Flintoff seems to know her stuff.” “She’s not my Lieutenant Flintoff. If anything she’s Kelby’s.” “Kelby? As in pain in the arse, briefly Chief Engineer of Enterprise Kelby?” “The same. He’s Tyrfing’s Chief Engineer these days.” “What was it you said about him? Technically competent but no empathy with the engine?” “Something like that.” “And he’s the one in charge of Tyrfing’s engine,” said Reed, dismally. “Technically competent is all that’s required. I did all the hard work for him before I came over here.” “Which is why you’re now lying here in the care of our good doctor,” said Reed. “Yeah, I know, I’m a stupid son of a bitch. You should hear what T’Pol’s got to say on the subject. I wouldn’t have believed Vulcans even knew words like that. Anyway, Phlox won’t let me out again and he’s threatened me with disciplinary proceedings if I don’t stay put this time.” “It’s about time someone knocked some sense into you,” replied Reed. “T’Pol’s been trying for months and it hasn’t worked so far,” said Trip with a smile. Suddenly a jolt ran through the deck, knocking Reed off balance. “Problem with the warp field?” asked Trip, suddenly concerned. “Weapons fire,” said Reed with complete certainty as he clambered to his feet. “I think the Romulans just caught up with us.” **** Archer took the Captain’s chair on the bridge of Tyrfing, barely keeping upright as the deck rocked beneath him. “On screen,” he said to Ensign Riley. The rear view clearly showed three Romulan War-birds pursuing them. “Hull plating is polarised,” said Lieutenant Pietersen, Tyrfing’s Armoury Officer. “They’re only firing warning shots so far.” “Sir, the Virideth is hailing us,” said Riley. Archer took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Put them through.” “Admiral Archer,” said the Romulan. The screen remained blank. That was one of the things about the Romulans, no one had ever seen what a Romulan looked like and it made them even more sinister. “This is Admiral Valdore of the Imperial Romulan War-bird Virideth.” “Admiral Valdore,” replied Archer. “You are in violation of the treaty of Alpha Trianguli, Admiral. I suggest you surrender before I am forced to stop playing and use the full might of my flagship.” “We’ve been through this with Commander Tamek. We are on a mission of mercy to rescue civilians and the Excalibur. They were attacked without warning by your ships who were the ones in violation of the treaty.” “Your ship disabled two Romulan War-birds and someone is going to pay for that.” “Some of the crew of Excalibur have already paid for it with their lives and I’m damned if I’ll let you take their ship.” “You have crossed me for the last time, Admiral, and you’re only delaying the inevitable by trying to fight us,” replied Valdore. “I’m not keeping score, you’re the one with the grudge,” said Archer. “This isn’t about our previous encounters.” “You can’t ignore the past. Everyone thinks that you’re a great peacemaker, “the Architect of the Federation”, and yet here you are fomenting war between our races. Give up, Admiral. The time has come for you to pay for your crimes against the Romulan Empire,” said Valdore. “I will be generous and give you one final chance to surrender.” “I’m sorry, but I can’t do that. You’re not getting your hands on these ships.” “We will see,” replied Valdore and cut the connection. “Should we drop out of warp?” asked Captain Austin who had taken over the Science station. “If we do, we might as well paint a bull’s-eye on Excalibur’s hull,” said Archer. “We can’t manoeuvre while towing Excalibur,” said T’Pol from her position at the Engineering console. “We can’t cut them lose, they’ll be sitting ducks,” said Archer. Excalibur was badly damaged and, even if it could manoeuvre on an impulse engine held together with duct tape (according to Trip’s reports), she was already heavily damaged. “Sir, we’re no match for three Imperial War-birds if we can’t manoeuvre,” said Pietersen. Archer wondered if he had been taking lessons in pointing out the obvious from Lieutenant Commander Reed. “Hail Excalibur on an encrypted channel. Make sure we’re using a cipher that the Romulans haven’t cracked,” said Archer. “Yes, sir,” replied Riley. Lieutenant Commander Reed appeared on screen, bathed in the red light of a Tactical Alert. “Admiral, we need to drop the cable, we can’t manoeuvre if we’re tied together,” said Reed. “Your counterpart over here agrees with you, but you’ll be a prime target with the damage you’ve already taken.” “You have no choice, sir, you have to cut us loose,” said Reed. “We’re just slowing you down.” “I refuse to just abandon Excalibur in the Neutral Zone.” “If it comes to it, I’ll set the self-destruct and abandon ship. We’re ready to repel boarders, but we can’t let the Romulans get hold of the technology on this ship.” Excalibur was well ahead of Romulan technology. The war had taught Starfleet a lot about how to build their ships to fight Romulans and exactly what level their enemy’s technology was at. “Agreed. Try to give us some warning if you need to abandon ship.” “Pick up the wounded first, sir. The rest of us will take our chances. It’s the only way to do this. Tyrfing can get the civilians to safety and maybe some of Excalibur’s crew too.” “Malcolm, we didn’t come all this way to leave you behind.” Both ships shuddered once again as the Romulan ships fired at their target. “Kelby to Bridge,” sounded the com. “Go ahead, Commander,” said Archer. “Sir, we can’t continue to tow Excalibur and take fire. It’s putting too much strain on the systems. Something’s going to have to give,” said Kelby, the sounds of a busy Engineering department could be heard behind him. Having despatched four engineers to Excalibur with Trip meant that Tyrfing was now shorthanded and Kelby had his plate full even without Romulans breathing down their necks. “Understood, Commander,” said Archer. “Admiral, Trip believes that if we drop out of warp, we might be close enough to the edge of the Neutral Zone that we can divert power to the transmitters and get a distress call through to Durandal and Athena. However, I will need time to make the required modification to the transmitters,” said T’Pol. “Trip is meant to be sleeping,” said Reed, tersely. “He says that it is hard to sleep while his ship is being shot at,” replied T’Pol, without any trace of the irritation that must have been present in the original comment. “Tyrfing can act as guard dog for Excalibur,” said Archer, “we’ll keep the Romulans busy while we get the transmitter rigged up. Excalibur can concentrate on staying out of harm’s way.” “I don’t like it,” said Reed, “but if you think that’s our best chance…” “I think it’s our only chance of getting both ships out of here,” replied Archer. “Take us out of warp and detach the cable. Did you get that Commander Kelby?” “Yes, Admiral, we’ll drop out of warp on Captain T’Pol’s signal. I can’t spare anyone to help with the transmitter modifications, we’ve got our hands full down here.” “Understood, Commander. I believe I can complete them alone,” said T’Pol. She made sure that Trip’s safety program was performing as expected before she gave the go ahead to drop out of warp. She didn’t wait for Archer to give her the nod to deal with the transmitter, but ran from the bridge not caring if it was unseemly for an officer to be seen sprinting down the corridors. The Romulans that were pursuing them overshot their target as Tyrfing and Excalibur slowed and then engaged impulse drive. Pietersen detached the cable that linked the two ships allowing them room to manoeuvre. Tyrfing put itself between the Romulans and Excalibur and began an attack run on the lead Romulan ship. Tyrfing swept round in a swooping arc on the Virideth, firing weapons as she moved across the bow of the enemy ship. They inflicted some damage but the Romulans’ hull plating held. Tyrfing and Excalibur had been designed to be quick in a fight for situations like this and Archer was glad of it. They were able to turn rapidly and fire a volley of torpedoes at the second ship before slipping between Virideth and the third War-bird. The third ship was taken by surprise and turned into Virideth’s firing arc, caught by their disruptor just as it opened fire on Tyrfing. Once again damage was minor but Tyrfing took advantage of the confusion to make a strafing run on all three ships that were now out of formation. Unfortunately the confusion worked in the Romulans’ favour as well and Virideth made a break for Excalibur while Tyrfing was occupied by the two other ships. “It’s time to finish this, Valdore,” said Archer, with quiet menace. Everyone on the bridge knew that this fight would be to the death. **** T’Pol headed for the transmitter compartment, Trip giving her instructions for when she arrived at her destination. Trip’s voice in her head was as clear to her as if he was standing next to her rather than miles away across the void of space on another ship entirely. “You’re going to have to find the main power relays and connect them to the transmitter. You need to be real careful when you do that because they’ll be live,” said Trip, and immediately T’Pol saw that Trip was once more thinking about his own injuries. “T’hy’la, I will be careful,” said T’Pol. That seemed to still his thoughts and bring him back to the matter at hand. “Yeah, I know you will. Anyway, once you’ve connected the relays to the transmitter you’ll need to recalibrate the power settings and divert power from the warp engine. I’m guessing we’re only going to get one shot at this and then the extra juice will fry the whole rig. Don’t be in the transmitter compartment when you press send, it’s going to be like the fourth of July.” T’Pol reached the transmitter compartment, a cramped, well shielded, room, tucked in at the front of the ship. It was certainly not the safest of places to be when Tyrfing was in the middle of a fire fight with three Romulan War-birds, but she was the only person who could perform the required modifications. She was the only one who had a mental link to the best engineer in the fleet. She immediately set about taking apart the relays that she would need, according to Trip’s instructions. She concentrated completely on the work, ignoring the shuddering of the deck plate beneath her feet. She pushed all distractions and fear from her mind, knowing how important it was that she complete her work quickly. Her concentration was broken however, by a shocked mental gasp from Trip. “What is wrong?” asked T’Pol. If she hadn’t been concentrating on the transmitter modification then she might have picked up more from Trip but, as it was, all she’d heard was Trip’s reaction to some outside stimulus. “I may be a bit distracted, we’ve got some Romulan friends coming on board,” replied Trip. “Malcolm just sounded the intruder alert.” “You’re still in sickbay?” asked T’Pol. “Yes, but I doubt the Romulans will care about that. Malcolm’s got his hands full on the bridge so I guess it’s up to us walking wounded to make a stand. There’s a weapons locker down here somewhere,” said Trip, plans already forming in his head. “Are you okay with those modifications? I know it isn’t easy to get my attention when I’m busy sometimes.” “I believe I will be able to continue on my own,” said T’Pol. “Please be careful, t’hy’la.” “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on spending anymore time in sickbay, than I already have to anyway.” “See that you do not,” replied T’Pol. She felt Trip’s focus move from her and towards the problem of the approaching Romulan boarding party. She kept a mental finger on the pulse of Trip’s thoughts and turned her own attention back to the transmitter. **** Trip sat up on his cot in the corridor outside sickbay. He detached the oxygen cannula and pulled out the drip needle from his arm. He pressed his hand against the wound that the needle had left and waited for the blood to clot. He threw back the bedclothes, put his shaky legs over the side of the bed and stood, using the wall for support. He was dizzy for a moment but the sensation passed. He found his uniform neatly folded under the bed and struggled into it as quickly as he could. Unfortunately his boots were no where to be found, so barefoot was the order of the day. He went to the nearest com unit. “Tucker to the Bridge,” he said, but he got no reply so he tried again. “Tucker to the Bridge.” It looked like communications were down. This wasn’t good news. “Listen up,” he said to the medical staff and wounded in the corridor. “We’re about to get a Romulan boarding party come storming through here and I’m damned if I’m going to lie here and let them take this ship without a fight. Does anyone know where the weapons locker is on this level?” “Yes, sir,” said a male crewmember from the other end of the corridor. He had some nasty burns on his upper body that one of the medical staff was re-dressing. “I’ll take Ensign Bell and we’ll distribute the weapons to anyone who’s well enough to help out.” “Good idea,” said Trip, “make it quick.” The two bandaged crewmembers disappeared down the corridor and Trip turned to look at what they had to work with to defend their corner of Excalibur. It certainly was a ragtag bunch and given what he knew about the damage sustained, most of the wounded were engineers not security officers. As long as Malcolm could hold the bridge and Lieutenant Flintoff kept them out of Engineering, they should be able to retain control of the ship. If the Armoury fell then that would make life harder, but no one ever controlled a ship from the Armoury. What worried Trip was that, although the main forces would go for the strategic locations, there were bound to be Romulans throughout the ship whose aim would be to capture or kill any crew that they found. The wounded in the corridor and inside sickbay would be easy targets. Trip’s mind was already working to come up with something that would keep everyone out of harm’s way. If he could get the emergency bulkheads to close then that would certainly give them a better chance of survival. He located the panel that he need and pulled the cover off. “Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?” said Phlox, approaching his errant patient. “It’s either this or get captured by the Romulans,” said Trip. “I don’t know about you, but that’s something that I’d rather avoid.” “Some of these men and women should not even be out of bed,” said Phlox. “That includes you.” Around him covers were being thrown back and drip lines detached, as wounded decided that there were more pressing things to do than lie in bed all day. “I promise as soon as we’ve kicked these sons of bitches off Excalibur we’ll all go back to bed,” said Trip. “All the critical cases are in sickbay, right?” “Of course, it’s where we are able to provide the best care.” “Anyone who’s out here and can’t fight should be moved into sickbay.” “I’ll see to it,” replied Phlox. “Although it’s going to be a bit of a squeeze.” “Do your best, I don’t want anyone getting caught in the crossfire. One more thing, Doc, have you seen my boots anywhere? They weren’t under my bed.” “I removed them in the hope that it would make you less likely to try to get up, unfortunately that doesn’t appear to have worked. I will go and retrieve them.” Phlox disappeared into sickbay proper to find where Trip’s boots had been stowed. The two crewmen, who’d been despatched to get weapons, reappeared clutching an armful of rifles and phase pistols. They gave Trip a phase pistol and then handed out the rest to anyone who indicated that they could hold a weapon, keeping back a couple of rifles for their own use. “I didn’t catch your name,” said Trip to the crewman who’d volunteered to go to the weapons locker. “Lieutenant Jones, sir,” said the officer. Trip looked at him. “You’re Malcolm’s second.” He only knew this because Reed had once mentioned his second in command in one of his letters. “Yes, sir,” said Jones. “Well that’s good because I could do with some help on the tactical front,” said Trip. “How’d you end up being injured?” He’d mistaken him for an Engineer because of the burn injuries. “I was near Engineering when the conduit ruptured, so I joined the fire control team,” said Jones. Trip nodded at this. Fire was a dangerous thing on board a ship, everyone was trained in fire control and expected to help out in emergencies. “I saw Commander Zukov lying unconscious and got him clear but on the way back another conduit ruptured just in front of me. I was actually pretty lucky to get out alive.” “Anymore of your guys down here?” asked Trip. He was certain that most of the wounded knew how to use a weapon, but they hadn’t been trained in combat. The more security officers he had to work with the better. “A few, Ensign Bell, Ensign Trescothick and maybe a couple more who are too badly hurt to help us. A support beam came down in the Armoury and seriously injured a couple of my people. What’s your plan, Captain?” “This is the emergency bulkhead control. It’s meant to bring down an airtight door automatically when a pressure seal blows but, if I can rewire it, we can drop them manually. The only problem is that these are great against vacuum but I’m not sure how long they’ll hold against Romulan disrupters.” “We need to set up a second line of defence,” said Jones. “You read my mind, Lieutenant,” said Trip. **** Archer had seen the problem even before the fight began. Tyrfing and Excalibur together would have had trouble holding off three Romulan War-birds, but with Excalibur basically hamstrung, their chances were almost non-existent. Reed had done his best, he was a skilled tactician, but with the damage they’d already taken it was only a matter of time before Trip’s rapid repairs to the impulse drive gave out and Excalibur was, as Trip would say, dead in the water. Tyrfing was drawing as much of the attention as it could, but the Romulans were like a wolf going after the weakest member in the herd. Virideth had converged on Excalibur while the remaining two ships continued to attack Tyrfing. “Aim for their engines. Ignore their weapons, if we can disable them then we can help Excalibur,” said Archer as Tyrfing manoeuvred into position to fire another volley of phaser cannon fire at their adversaries. “Sir, I’m detecting a Romulan shuttle docking with Excalibur,” said Pietersen. “Excalibur is no longer answering hails,” said Riley. “I don’t understand why they don’t finish the job,” said Austin. It was painfully like watching a cat playing with a mouse. “They want the ship intact,” said Archer. “The Romulans don’t have anything that’s a match for the Excalibur class and capturing the pathfinder would be a real victory for them.” “T’Pol to the bridge.” “Go ahead, T’Pol,” answered Archer. “I have completed the modifications to the transmitter. Captain Tucker believes that the extra power will most likely overload the circuits and make it impossible to repeat the message. It is possible that there may also be damage to the long range communications.” “Understood, T’Pol,” said Archer. “This is our only chance. Ensign Riley, do you have the message ready?” “Yes, sir. I am sending now,” said Ensign Riley. Deep in the bowels of the ship, T’Pol pressed herself against the bulkhead outside the communication compartment as the transmitter circuits failed spectacularly due to the increased energy passing through them. Sparks bounced around the compartment starting small fires. T’Pol grabbed a fire extinguisher from across the corridor and dowsed the flames quickly and efficiently. She looked at the damage. It would be repairable but she had no idea how long those repairs might take. “There’s a few hours work for Kelby there. Told you it would be like the fourth of July,” said Trip’s voice in T’Pol’s head. “All we have to do now is hope Durandal or Athena picked it up.” She noted that he was preoccupied with some electronics and wondered what he had planned. “Are you prepared to defend yourselves?” replied T’Pol sensing her t’hy’la’s anxiety across their bond, almost automatically. “Don’t worry, Svai, we’ve got a plan. Malcolm won’t activate the self-destruct unless it looks like we’re going down.” “I would prefer you to be on Tyrfing,” thought T’Pol. “Right now, I wouldn’t mind being on Tyrfing either,” replied Trip. “I don’t want you worrying about me though, I’ve got Malcolm’s Second in Command with me and he’ll look after us.” T’Pol could easily detect the underlying current of doubt in Trip, but she refrained from bringing her knowledge of his real feelings to his attention. Malcolm’s Second in Command could be the best Armoury officer in the fleet and she knew she wouldn’t have been satisfied that he was the one in charge of Trip’s safety. “Vulcans do not worry,” replied T’Pol. “This one does,” said Trip without a pause. “You are in a dangerous situation.” “Nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” “It is logical for me to be concerned about your well-being,” said T’Pol. She was heading for the bridge now, having put out the last of the fires that had started in the transmitter compartment. “You concentrate on keeping Tyrfing safe. We’ll take care of things over here,” said Trip. He felt T’Pol’s mental nod and then her focus shift as she arrived at the bridge. **** Lieutenant Commander Reed was well aware that he was short staffed in all areas and that included the bridge. He simply didn’t have the people he needed to keep track of the Romulan War-birds and Virideth had got close enough to despatch a shuttle and get men aboard. Reed had watched while Tyrfing had managed to distract two of the Romulan War-birds, but it couldn’t occupy all three ships. Virideth had fought Excalibur to a literal standstill. If they ever got out of this then it would need more than a few engineers to get the ship running again. Damage reports were coming in from all across the ship. Weapons were still functional, although barely. They were still firing on Virideth but getting a target lock was becoming increasingly hard as they only had the canon’s rotation to give them any chance of hitting the moving target. The Armoury officer in Reed was frustrated but, as the Acting Captain of Excalibur, he couldn’t concentrate on his own little area. The weapons problem was only one of many he had to deal with to save his ship. Excalibur class ships had been designed with the Romulan war in mind. Tyrfing, Durandal and Excalibur had been completed in time to stand at the battle of Cheron with Enterprise, Discovery, Atlantis, Endeavour and Columbia. It had been a hard fought battle nonetheless, even with the addition of the three new ships. The Excalibur class design took into account that Romulans would attempt to board a ship in order to capture it if the opportunity presented and fortified the strategic locations accordingly. That meant that there were coded locks and two inch thick bulkheads protecting engineering. There was a secondary bridge for use if the main bridge was captured or disabled and both were protected by automated defence systems. The Romulans would have a hard time reaching any vital areas. If all else failed then there was a self-destruct system that was guaranteed to vaporise the ship. Communications had gone down in the second attack run and although he was sure that Flintoff and her team would be trying their best to reroute things, they wouldn’t be able to leave engineering now that the intruder alert had sounded. The standing order was there to protect the people who had the most knowledge about the ship’s inner workings from capture, but it also ensured that the security bulkheads remained locked. With communications down, he couldn’t contact his officers to tell them to do anything, he just had to hope that their training was sufficient for them to deal with the intruders. His thoughts also kept returning to the wounded in sickbay who would be fairly helpless without security forces to protect them. He was all too aware that their number included Trip. He could only hope that there were enough men left in his security force to spare some people to protect sickbay as well as the critical ship’s systems. He knew that his Second in Command had been wounded in the first attack by the Evarra and he couldn’t remember for the life of him who was left to take charge of the Armoury. Perhaps that head injury was finally getting to him. “Ensign Harmison,” said Reed, “do we still have the security camera feeds?” “Yes, sir,” said Harmison, who was currently occupying the Armoury Station even though he was one of the most junior members of Reed’s Armoury team. “Get me pictures of our Romulan friends,” said Reed. “At least we can see what they’re up to. Are internal sensors functioning?” “Yes, sir,” replied Ensign Giles at the Science Station. “Good, I want to know where the Romulans are,” said Reed. “I have four groups,” said Ensign Giles, “it looks like they’re aiming for Engineering, the Bridge and the Armoury. I can’t determine a destination for the fourth group, they’re just moving through the ship.” “I have visuals, sir,” said Harmison. “They’re wearing environment suits as usual.” “They’re nothing if not predictable,” said Reed. If any of the Romulans were killed or captured then the suits produced an acid like chemical that would make sure there was no one to interrogate and no bodies to examine. Even after a year long war with the Romulans, Starfleet still knew next to nothing about their physiology. There was considerable speculation about why they should go to such lengths to keep their identity hidden. Reed looked at the main view screen which was split into four smaller screens and showed views of the corridors of the ship with the four Romulan teams progressing through them. This was a typical pattern of intrusion that the Romulans used. Three teams would concentrate on the strategic areas of the ship while the fourth would deal with any stray crew members that they found. If any area gave a lot of resistance then the floating team would move to join them. Reed was desperate to join the fighting but his place was on the Bridge this time, and if he was right then the action would reach them soon enough. **** T’Pol stepped onto the bridge and into a hive of activity. The crew of Tyrfing were well trained and each was performing their designated task to the best of their ability while under fire. “T’Pol, are you still in contact with Trip?” asked Archer. Both of them knew what it would mean if T’Pol couldn’t hear Trip in her mind any longer, he would either be deeply unconscious or dead. Neither of which Archer or T’Pol particularly wanted to contemplate, but given the situation the question had to be asked. “He is currently still in sickbay,” said T’Pol. “Can he give us a status report on the rest of the ship?” “Internal communications are down, but it was Commander Reed who sounded the intruder alert, so, at that point, the bridge was still intact,” replied T’Pol. “Power and life support are still functioning which suggests that the Romulans have not taken Engineering.” Archer nodded and turned his attention back to the view screen and their Romulan target. “Now, Ensign,” said Archer, and Ensign Fisher at the helm began to execute Archer’s plan. Tyrfing dodged a disruptor beam and barrel rolled into an attack run on the Romulan ship. The Commander obviously wasn’t expecting such a strange or swift move because he or she failed to react in time and Tyrfing scored a hit on the Romulan ship’s engine. A cheer went up around the bridge. “Direct hit on the area we weakened on the previous attack run, sir,” said Pietersen. “Good work, Lieutenant,” replied Archer. “Their engine is down,” said Austin, “I’m detecting a power surge!” “Ensign, get us clear!” said Archer, urgently. Romulan ships had notoriously badly designed engines and a hit in the right place could spell disaster. It looked as if Enterprise had hit the War-bird in exactly the right place to start a catastrophic chain reaction in the warp core. Tyrfing sped away to a safe distance, barely making it before the first explosion detonated within the hull of the Romulan ship. The first explosion was followed by a second and third forming a line across the hull before a final blast lit up the view screen. The bridge crew winced against the bright light, some of them shielding their eyes with their hands, others turning away from the screen. The War-bird’s crew of two hundred Romulans had gone down with their ship. This was going to make matters much more complicated when the diplomats came to sit down and work things out. While ships had been damaged none had been destroyed and it raised the stakes of the game. The second War-bird had caught the edge of the explosion and had taken damage. “Sir, the other War-bird is coming in for an attack run,” said Pietersen. “It looks like they’re coming in for a suicide run.” T’Pol gripped the railing that ran around the edge of the bridge. “They will attempt to attain vengeance for their fallen colleagues.” Archer caught T’Pol’s eye, acknowledging her comment, before he gave the command. “Attack pattern beta.” “Yes, sir,” replied Pietersen. Tyrfing executed a complicated series of manoeuvres, barely avoiding the disruptors of the second War-bird, before opening fire itself. “No critical hits, sir,” said Pietersen. “Ensign Fisher, let’s try that again and this time make your pass closer.” Archer sat forward in his seat and gripped the arm of the captain’s chair. “I’ll do my best, sir,” replied the helmswoman. “Their commander isn’t using his head, he’s too angry,” said Archer. Tyrfing flew in fast and passed within a few metres of the hull of the War-bird, giving Pietersen a perfect shot at the nacelles. The armoury officer was able to take out the ship’s critical systems with a precision shot. Tyrfing finished their run and turned to look at the damage that they’d created to find that the Romulan ship wasn’t capable of any further resistance. Its warp engine was completely disabled and the majority of their weapons systems were down. “Finish them off, Lieutenant,” said Captain Austin. “No,” said Archer. “If we don’t destroy them, they’ll only come back with reinforcements once they’ve made repairs,” replied Austin. “We’ve destroyed one Romulan ship today and that’s enough. Excalibur needs us,” said Archer. “Now is not the time for this, Amanda.” “Sir, they’ve fired a torpedo. Brace for impact!” Pietersen had been momentarily distracted by the argument that his commanding officers were having and failed to notice that one torpedo launcher was still functioning. “Return fire and take evasive action,” ordered Archer. Ensign Fisher did her best to get them out of the way but she wasn’t quite able to turn sharply enough to avoid the torpedo hitting the top of the saucer section. It wasn’t a direct hit but it was enough to bring down a support pillar and short out a couple of consoles on the bridge. Lieutenant Pietersen once more targeted the Romulan War-bird and this time he disabled the remaining weapons. “She’s done for, sir,” said Pietersen. “I’m getting damage reports from across the ship,” said Austin. “Kelby reports that he has crews working on it, but we’re in poor shape.” “Tell Kelby to do his best. Turn her around and let’s go and help out Excalibur,” said Archer. “Yes, sir,” said Fisher. Archer turned to talk to T’Pol and realised that his former first officer wasn’t standing where she had been a moment ago. Instead she was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, a green dribble of blood pooling under her head. He moved quickly to the Vulcan’s side and felt for a pulse. He was gratified to find that it was strong, but the head wound worried him. “Get a medic up here,” Archer snapped to the com officer. He looked down at the wounded Vulcan and added under his breath, “Trip is going to kill me.” **** Trip winced at a pain running through his head and knew that something had happened to T’Pol. The pain wasn’t his and this was a phenomenon that he’d experienced only a couple of times before. When T’Pol was hurt he could sometimes experience her pain. He tried to contact her across the bond but he could feel that she was unconscious, her thoughts were muddled and incoherent. He wished again that he’d decided to stay on Tyrfing, but unfortunately he had to trust that T’Pol was in good hands. There was nothing he could do from where he was. With difficulty, he turned his attention back to the emergency bulkheads that he had managed to close to protect the corridor. Trip heard voices outside the closed bulkheads, which was followed by the sound of banging on metal. He retreated back towards the barricades that the occupants of sickbay had erected. The barrier that they had constructed wasn’t exactly well made, it consisted of gurneys lying on their side and detached wall panels. Trip had found some wire to tie the whole thing together, but he didn’t think it would take more than a few hits from Romulan disruptors. Phlox and Dr Sonok were doing the rounds of their patients. Everyone who was too ill to fight had now been moved inside sickbay proper, which was very overcrowded. Trip knew that he’d disrupted the doctors’ well-run sickbay and had probably worsened the conditions of a lot of their patients, including himself. Once again Phlox had been forced to give him medication that he considered to be ill advised and Trip would probably have to pay for later. Suddenly he heard shouting from inside sickbay. “Get off me, Doctor,” said an annoyed female officer in a sickbay gown. “Commander, you have extensive internal injuries,” said Phlox. “I know my condition. I can hold a phase rifle, so I’m going to support my crew,” said the woman, angrily. “Now, where the hell did you hide my uniform?” “What’s the problem?” asked Trip. “Commander Street seems to feel that she is well enough to join the defence force,” said Phlox. Trip realised that this was the executive officer of Excalibur. She was a small woman with close cropped blonde hair and she looked very ill. Her skin was pale and her eyes sunken. Trip caught sight of the top of bandages beneath her sickbay gown. “Captain, these are my crew and I need to be with them,” said Commander Street. “She is recovering from surgery,” said Phlox, pointedly. “If you fall over, Commander, then I can’t guarantee anyone will pick you up. If you feel you’re up to it then see Lieutenant Jones and grab a phase pistol.” “Yes, sir,” said Street. “And Phlox, give her back her uniform,” said Trip. “Very well,” sighed Phlox, once more going into sickbay to find a uniform for another uncooperative patient. “What’s the situation, sir?” asked Street. “The Romulans are about to come through those emergency bulkheads any moment. We’ve got a hell of a fight on our hands.” Trip paused, looking Street up and down. “I know none of us is at our best at the moment, but if you’re feeling worse, you get back into sickbay.” “With respect, sir, if you’re not going to take your own advice, then I’m not taking it either,” said Street. Trip smiled. “You got me there, Commander.” An Ensign brought out a uniform for Commander Street and she scrambled into it, not bothering to remove her gown. “They’re coming through,” Jones shouted back from his position crouched behind the barricade. A fiery red dot had appeared on the emergency bulkhead. Street gave Trip a nod and they joined the Lieutenant behind the barricade. “How long will it take them to get through?” asked Jones. “Depends what they’re using,” replied Trip. “But I’d say…” “About ten minutes,” supplied Street. “I used to be Chief Engineer…” “On Challenger,” finished Trip, a memory suddenly clicking into place. “Yes,” said Street quietly. “I sure do miss my NX class engine,” said Trip. “They don’t make them like that anymore. Don’t let Zukov hear you say that though. You know how engineers are about their engines.” Street grinned. Trip returned her grin with one of his own. Everyone knew how Chief Engineers tended to treat their engines. Protective didn’t even cover half of it. The three officers ducked as a spark flew towards them from the door. Trip turned and rested his back against the barricade, grasping his phase pistol more tightly. He took a deep breath, trying to clear his lungs and ready himself for the impending battle. “Any final advice, Lieutenant?” Trip asked Jones. “Just keep your head down, sir,” replied Jones. “Good advice,” murmured Trip, just as the Romulans finished burning a hole in the emergency bulkhead. A jagged oval of metal clanged onto the floor. “Showtime,” Trip breathed as he turned around to face the Romulans that were climbing through the hole. The officers behind the barricade fired on the Romulans that stepped through. When they realised what they’d walked into, the Romulans opened fire too. Soon there was a fierce fire fight being waged through the hole in the bulkhead. The hole in the bulkhead acted as a choke point and meant that Romulans could only enter one at a time, and they were easy pickings for the defenders. The Romulans couldn’t get a foothold in the corridor outside sickbay because they couldn’t use their superior numbers. “So far, so good,” shouted Trip to Jones. They were successfully holding off the Romulans, although they didn’t have the upper hand by any means. If they carried on like this then they just might hold up the Romulans long enough that Tyrfing might be able to send help. “Not so much, sir,” replied Jones and indicated the other end of the corridor. The bulkhead there was beginning to glow red. “Damn, they worked out that they could get us from both sides,” said Trip. “They just halved our odds of surviving this,” replied Street. She ordered half of the defenders to the set of barricades at the other end of the corridor. “I want you to take your rank insignia off,” said Trip to Street. “That goes for you too Lieutenant. You’re the two people in sickbay who have the most knowledge about this ship. If they capture us, there’s no need to let them know who they’ve got.” “I think they’d be quite happy to capture the ex-Chief Engineer of Enterprise too,” said Commander Street, detaching two of the pips from the front of her uniform. She instantly became an Ensign. She gave Trip an expectant look. “Why is it that all the women in my life want to give me orders?” he mumbled as he too demoted himself to Ensign. “Anyone else here who should be taking off their rank insignia?” “No one who’s wearing a uniform,” said Jones after a quick survey of the corridor. “Sir!” shouted an Ensign. The Romulans were coming through the bulkhead at both ends of the corridor. Trip dove for cover, along with Jones and Street. Unfortunately Phlox took that moment to step out of sickbay and into the line of fire. “Get down, Doc!” Trip could only watch as Phlox took a disrupter hit high on his shoulder. Phlox went down and hit his head against the door frame. No one had time to check on the doctor as the Romulans had decided to take a shortcut to clearing out the corridor. A grenade was thrown through the hole in the door. Trip’s eyes widened. “Move!” he shouted to everyone at the barrier. Trip saw Jones reach for the grenade and grabbed him, bodily propelling him away from the danger, just as an explosion blossomed behind them. The first grenade was followed by a second that brought the ceiling down on top of the defenders. Already weakened support beams were bent and broken by a third grenade. At the same time the doorway to sickbay was blocked by a piece of bulkhead. When the dust settled, no one was moving. **** Reed was under siege on his own bridge and it was only a matter of time before the Romulans forced their way in. They had been monitoring the progress of the Romulan boarding party through the ship. Reed had been surprised when the team on their way to the Armoury was held up in the corridor to sickbay. The floating fourth team was called down to help. When Ensign Harmison turned on the camera on the sickbay corridor, Reed was able to see what Trip was up to. His stand was holding up two teams of Romulans and diverting a considerable amount of attention. Unfortunately, the Romulans were also cutting their way through the doors to the bridge and Reed had to take cover before he found out how Trip was doing. Reed was down to his final option. It was time to activate the self-destruct and hope that his crew could get to the escape pods. Reed made his way to the helm and the number pad where the self-destruct code was input. The string of numbers, known only to the senior staff, was long and had to be entered correctly twice. Reed entered the number once and the display indicated that the code had been accepted. He entered it a second time and once again the display showed that the code had been input correctly. The computer asked him for the countdown time and he set it for twenty minutes. That would give them enough time to leave the ship, assuming that they didn’t encounter heavy resistance. He pressed the button to confirm the time and an error flashed up on the screen. Self-destruct failure. Reed swore loudly and vigorously, not caring that his subordinates heard him. If he ever got out of this then he would be having a word with the engineers who designed a self-destruct system that didn’t work. Admittedly Excalibur was in poor shape but he hadn’t ever thought that his final solution would fail. The Romulans finally cut their way through the bridge hatch. “Take cover,” shouted Reed drawing his phase pistol. He ducked down behind the captain’s chair as his officers dived for their own cover. **** Tyrfing approached Virideth and Excalibur. “Captain, we need to take back Excalibur from the Romulan boarding party,” said Archer. “Use the transporter.” “Understood, sir,” replied Austin. She was the obvious choice to lead the liberation team, Pietersen was needed on the bridge to tackle Virideth and someone had to command Tyrfing. Austin quickly made her way to the turbo lift, giving Archer a sharp nod as she stepped through the doors and turned to face the bridge. Amanda Austin might have her faults but lack of courage was not one of them, the effort to reclaim Excalibur was in good hands. Archer paced in front of the captain’s chair. “As soon as the away team have disembarked, we’ll make our move on Virideth.” Valdore was probably watching them and wondering what their next move would be. Excalibur was currently shielding the Romulan war-bird from Tyrfing’s guns but, as soon as they were in position, both ships would open fire and then all hell would break lose. Although he would never admit it to his crew, Archer wasn’t sure that he could win this one. Tyrfing was damaged and Virideth was definitely a match for their armaments. His plan to protect both ships had ultimately failed, and Archer wondered why Reed hadn’t activated the self-destruct on board Excalibur. The only explanation that he could come up with, that Reed hadn’t been able to because he was injured or dead, was not something he liked to contemplate. What should have been a simple rescuing of a civilian ship from the Neutral Zone had disintegrated into an impossible nightmare. At the moment it was fifty-fifty whether any of them would be alive to explain what had happened. Archer was mindful that he had a cargo bay full of civilians to protect, but equally he couldn’t abandon Excalibur to the Romulans after they had come this far. Captain Austin checked in to let them know that they had arrived safely on Excalibur. Her assessment of the damage sustained was depressing to say the least, but at least life support was still functioning. They had encountered some Romulans already but they were sure that there had to be more. Austin was going to head for the bridge and hope that she wasn’t too late to help the bridge crew. “Sir, Virideth is coming around. Looks like they’re moving out to meet us,” said Pietersen. “That’s fine by me,” replied Archer. If they were concentrating on Tyrfing then they weren’t attacking the already crippled Excalibur. “They’re moving in the wrong direction to get a firing lock on us,” commented Fisher from the helm. “Sir, it isn’t us that they’re moving for,” said Riley. “I’m being hailed by Durandal.” Archer allowed himself to smile. “Put them through.” “Admiral Archer, this is Captain Vaughan of Durandal. Can we be of assistance?” “We are very glad to see you, Captain,” said Archer, with relief. “It looks like our Romulan friends have decided that today isn’t a good day to take us on after all.” Virideth was running for it, with the second Romulan ship limping after it as best she could on impulse power. Archer certainly had no intention of giving chase. He was pleased to see the back of them and enough lives had been lost. “Athena is right behind us,” added Vaughan. “We had a hard time finding you, the Romulans are jamming everything in this area. I was surprised that you got a signal out at all.” “I had some very good people working on the problem. Right now we need to get to Excalibur and see what the damage is. They’re going to need medical and technical help before we can get underway again. Their communications are down but I’ve got an away team over there now.” “Sir, Captain Austin reports that the Romulans attacking the bridge have been dealt with,” said Riley. “She also reports that Lieutenant Commander Reed wants to know what took us so long.” **** T’Pol awoke in Tyrfing’s sickbay with her subconscious screaming that something was wrong. Her head hurt and she raised a hand to gingerly feel a bandage. She registered the fact that she was lying on a biobed and, when her vision cleared, she noticed someone was sitting beside her. “Admiral,” she said. Her voice sounded weak to her own ears and it made her wonder how long she had been unconscious. “T’Pol, how are you feeling?” asked Archer, his attention jerked away from the padd that he had been reading. He was smiling, but obviously concerned. “I am confused. How did I sustain a head injury?” “The Romulans managed to get a hit near the bridge. It brought down a support beam and you were hit. The doctors don’t seem to think that you’re in any danger, but you have a concussion, so they need to keep an eye on you.” T’Pol carefully pushed herself into a sitting position. She was becoming more aware of her surroundings and the bustle of Tyrfing’s well-equipped sickbay around her. It was very crowded and she recognised officers from Tyrfing’s various departments. “Is Excalibur safe?” “Virideth turned tail and went home, after Durandal and Athena arrived to lend us a hand,” replied Archer. Suddenly T’Pol realised why she felt as if something wasn’t right. “Where is Trip?” “We don’t know. Excalibur’s sickbay was pretty much destroyed by the Romulans and Tyrfing didn’t have room for all the wounded, so they’ve been transferred to one of the other ships…” started Archer. “I am unable to receive anything from him through our bond,” said T’Pol. “He must be unconscious.” “T’Pol, we didn’t recover anyone above the rank of lieutenant from Excalibur,” said Archer, the pain at what he was telling T’Pol already showing in his eyes. “They did find Phlox, but he’s unconscious at the moment. Once he comes round he might be able to tell us what happened.” “Trip is not dead,” said T’Pol. “But if you can’t feel anything from him…” said Archer letting the unspoken words hang in the air between them. “He is not dead,” repeated T’Pol with absolute certainty. “The rescue team had to dig the survivors out from underneath two broken support beams and a bulkhead, T’Pol. They couldn’t even open the door to sickbay until they’d cleared some of the rubble. I don’t want to think the worst, but he’s not on the list of wounded.” “Is he on the list of the dead?” asked T’Pol. “No, but there are a few unidentified bodies.” Archer paused before he continued, his voice faltering slightly as he spoke. “The Romulans used grenades, and a lot of the dead are too badly burned to recognise.” “He has been “dead” before. Until I see that he is no longer breathing, I will not believe it.” Archer looked at T’Pol and saw the determination in her eyes. “We set up a temporary morgue in a cargo bay on Athena.” T’Pol gave a slight nod of her head and threw off the blanket that had been covering her. “Are you sure that you’re well enough to be getting up?” asked Archer. “I will not be able to rest until I have ascertained Trip’s status,” replied T’Pol. Archer knew that he had to take T’Pol to survey the dead because neither of them could rest until Trip had been found. Dead or alive. **** The short shuttle ride to Athena was sombre, neither Archer nor T’Pol felt in the mood for conversation. T’Pol stared out of the window, looking at the four ships that hung in space. The three strong ships protected the weakest member of the group. Even from the shuttle, T’Pol could see evidence of the damage wrought on Excalibur and Tyrfing by the Romulan attackers. Engineers from all three of the other ships had been sent to get Excalibur ready to be moved again. Durandal had the supplies on board to fix the warp engine, but Lieutenant Flintoff was assessing whether they had time. The immediate threat might be gone but none of them wanted to invite trouble by hanging around any longer than they had to. Athena was the smallest of the four ships, only slightly larger than the NX class. She was the next step on from Enterprise, the next generation of exploration vessels. Archer had admitted grudgingly to T’Pol that he liked the ship’s design. She wasn’t as overtly a warship as Excalibur or Tyrfing, but she had hidden assets that made her more deadly than Enterprise had been. War changed everything, and that included ship design. People marvelled at how anyone had ever thought that the phase cannons and torpedoes Enterprise carried would be enough to protect anything. Athena had drawn the short straw when she had been designated their makeshift morgue. It was the duty that no ship wanted, but the bodies had to be kept somewhere. Too many people on board both Excalibur and Tyrfing had died in the final skirmish to be stored in any one ship’s morgue. The solution had been to drop the temperature of one of Athena’s cargo bays low enough to turn it into a giant fridge. Archer and T’Pol stepped through the hatch and into a silent room. Bodies were laid out on the floor in rows, each corpse under a white sheet. Some of the bodies had been given tags to indicate that they had been identified. A crewman bearing a blue stripe on his uniform was noting down each identified body and taking blood samples from the unidentified in the hopes that a genetic information match could be made. In some cases genetic information was the only identifying mark left, the rest having been burned away. T’Pol’s breath formed white fog in the air as she looked at the rows of men and women who would not be returning home from this mission. She watched Archer go over to the crewman and explain to him who they were looking for, the Admiral’s voice echoing against the walls. The crewman shook his head as Archer asked him if he had identified a Captain Tucker. T’Pol caught the Admiral’s eye and knew that they would have to check each body themselves if they wanted to know if Trip was here. T’Pol started at the top of a row. She crouched down on the floor and lifted the sheet. The face of a fair skinned young man presented itself to her, he had blond hair. For a moment, an awful, dragging moment, she thought it was Trip lying there, but she blinked and it was not him. She calmed her breathing, replaced the sheet carefully and moved down the line to the next unidentified body. This was a woman, dark haired and brown skinned, badly burnt across her face so that she was unrecognisable. Once more T’Pol replaced the sheet and noticed that Archer had started from the other end of the row, lifting sheets with quiet reverence. Every time a sheet was lifted she knew that under it she might find her t’hy’la. Equally with each sheet that she replaced she improved the odds that Trip was not in the room. Even as she looked at a body, glad that it was not Trip, she felt guilt for being pleased that someone else was dead and not her t’hy’la. Emotions swirled inside her and it took all her will to suppress them. She would meditate on these feelings later but at the moment she needed to find Trip, and that alone kept her going as she looked into the faces of the dead. Finally, she lifted the last sheet. The man beneath it was too badly burned to identify but T’Pol was certain that it was not Trip. Archer had finished his side of the room and been unable to identify any of the bodies as that of his friend either. “He is not here,” said T’Pol. “Some of these bodies are completely unidentifiable,” Archer, pointed out gently. He couldn’t tell if one of those burned bodies was Trip and he didn’t understand how T’Pol could state with such certainty that Trip was not among the dead. “I cannot explain to someone who hasn’t experienced a Vulcan bond, but I know he is not among the dead,” said T’Pol. Archer nodded, unwilling to argue with T’Pol when he fervently wanted to believe that she was right. “Then where is he?” “Where were the wounded taken from Excalibur?” “They were split between Athena and Durandal’s sickbays,” said Archer. “I guess we’ll start with Athena’s sickbay since we’re here.” T’Pol didn’t wait for further instructions from Archer, but headed out of the cargo bay, almost colliding with Lieutenant Commander Reed who was entering. “Malcolm, what are you doing here?” asked Archer. Reed looked considerably better than when Archer had last seen him on Tyrfing’s view screen. The cut on his head had a square of gauze over it and his arm was encased in a plastic cast in a supportive looking sling. Bruises were beginning to turn purple and yellow but he was wearing a clean uniform and had obviously showered recently since his hair was still damp. “Someone needs to identify the dead,” said Reed in a tone somewhere between resignation and sorrow. “I still find myself in command of Excalibur and I couldn’t spare anyone else for this happy little task. Why are you here, sir?” “Trip’s missing,” said Archer. “I thought he was transferred with the rest of the wounded,” said Reed. “His name isn’t on any of the lists,” said Archer. “And you were checking the morgue,” said Reed, solemnly. Archer nodded. T’Pol remained silent. “We didn’t find him so we’re on our way to sickbay,” said Archer. “I’ll come with you,” said Reed. “The dead can wait a little while longer.” The three officers walked towards Athena’s sickbay. T’Pol’s stride was purposeful. Archer and Reed were finding it hard to keep up with her as they moved towards sickbay. Athena’s sickbay was smaller that Tyrfing’s but was equally crowded. T’Pol entered the room to see medical personnel bustling around between the wounded. She felt out with her mind once again, trying to find any trace of her t’hy’la, but there was nothing. Archer went to find someone who knew what was going on and returned a moment later with Athena’s doctor. “Doctor, we’re looking for Captain Tucker. He was in the corridor outside sickbay on Excalibur and I gather that some of the wounded from there were brought to Athena,” said Archer. “Yes, we have some wounded from Excalibur’s sickbay, but I would have remembered Captain Tucker if he’d been brought in,” said the doctor. “We served together at the Mars research facility. He could have been taken to Durandal, all the critical cases were taken there. Their sickbay is better equipped.” “What about the others? Are any of them awake? We need to find out what happened over there,” said Archer. “You have Doctor Phlox here?” “Doctor Phlox is still unconscious, I’m afraid. The injuries sustained by Excalibur’s crew were severe in a lot of cases, but I think one of the ensigns was awake a moment ago,” said the doctor, leading them towards a biobed where one of Excalibur’s crew lay sleeping. “Looks like he’s drifted off again, he’s on some strong pain medication.” “Doctor, that’s Lieutenant Simon Jones, my Armoury second in command,” said Reed. The Lieutenant was badly bruised, burned and had a broken arm. “He was wearing Ensign’s insignia when he was brought in,” replied the doctor, correcting the name tag on biobed. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to see to my other patients.” The doctor rushed off to tend to more of the injured. “I think I know what happened,” said Reed. “They were expecting the Romulans to try to capture members of the crew who would be useful to them, so they took off their rank insignia. I’d guess that in the hurry to treat the wounded no one checked the crew roster against the people they had coming in.” “In other words, they ignored standard operating procedure. At least that explains why no one above the rank of Lieutenant was recovered from Excalibur, but it doesn’t help us find Trip,” said Archer. “On the contrary, there is only one other place that he could be,” said T’Pol. “We should go to Durandal.” “Agreed,” said Reed. Archer just nodded and led the way out of the sickbay back to the shuttlepod. The doctor had told them that the critical cases had been taken to Durandal and that could only mean one thing. If Trip wasn’t dead, as T’Pol affirmed, then he was badly hurt, and Archer wasn’t sure if he could go through that again. **** Durandal’s sickbay was in a very similar state to Athena’s. It was crowded and beds had been placed in every spare corner. The only difference here was that the people in those beds were, for the most part, more seriously injured than those on board Athena. Reed spotted Doctor Sonok, who was helping out on Durandal while Excalibur’s sickbay was in disrepair. “Doctor, we’re looking for Captain Tucker,” said Reed. “The only patient I have met who is more loath to remain in sickbay than you are,” said Sonok. Reed looked a little embarrassed at that remark from the doctor. “I have not seen him, however I have not dealt with all the admissions from Excalibur. As you can see we are treating a large number of patients at the moment.” “Do you mind if we look around?” asked Archer. “As long as you do not disturb the patients, I have no objection,” said Sonok. Archer, Reed and T’Pol split up and began to check behind the drawn curtains and in the corners of sickbay. Archer noticed that there was an area of the main sickbay that had been curtained off. Medical staff were entering and leaving with equipment and supplies. He caught the attention of one of the Ensigns assigned to sickbay who was replenishing a bag of IV solution for one of the patients. “What’s through there?” he asked. “That’s the intensive care unit,” replied the Ensign, barely taking her attention away from her task. Archer glanced over at T’Pol who was still checking behind curtains around individual biobeds. Reed was talking to crewmembers who occupied the makeshift beds on the deck. Archer went over to the area that had been designated intensive care, and pulled back the curtain to enter. The sight that greeted him was not a pleasant one. At least one of the patients was so badly burned as to be almost unrecognisable, but she was still obviously female and therefore not Trip. Other patients were on life support, being kept alive only by machines. It reminded Archer of the first time he had seen Trip in the hospital in San Francisco. It brought back a lot of bad memories of sitting at his friend’s bedside, waiting for Trip to wake up or at least show some sign of improvement. He walked around the beds, looking each of the officers he passed in the face. He doubted that any of the five men and women in this area would last the day, another few bodies to be added to the morgue. This was what had in the past been called a “dying room”, where the wounded from a battle who were too badly hurt to help were placed. It was simply somewhere quiet where they could breathe their last and not disturb anyone else. Trip was not here. Archer felt a wave of guilt tainted relief wash over him. He knew it was natural to be pleased that his friend wasn’t this badly injured but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was responsible for these people’s injuries. He stepped away from the source of that guilt and back through the curtain, his eyes fixed on the floor rather than look at any more wounded. Sickbay suddenly felt very enclosed and he had to take several deep breaths before he was able to continue. He looked up and his eyes rested on the figure lying in the bed opposite. A curtain was half drawn around the bed but Archer could see the upper half of the patient lying there. The man was covered in a blanket up to the top of his head, only dirty blond hair poking through the gap. Archer didn’t think that he’d ever moved so quickly in his life. He was across the gap and pulling back the curtain before he’d even had time to think about what he was doing. He gently removed the fingers that clung to the blanket, holding it in place with dread determination, and pulled it down enough that he could catch a glimpse of the face beneath. He saw blond hair and pale, flushed skin, slightly warm to the touch. He closed his eyes briefly in relief. “Trip,” breathed Archer. He turned to summon T’Pol only to find that she and Reed were already standing beside him, having seen his rapid move across sickbay. “Thank god,” said Reed. “I’ll get a doctor who can tell us what his condition is.” T’Pol simply moved to grasp Trip’s hand and she stared down at her t’hy’la with an intensity that Archer would not have believed possible. Her stance was protective but also caring. She ran a hand through his hair, brushing it away from his face and tidying it. Trip, for his part, was completely oblivious to all the attention that he was getting. However, Archer would have sworn that the engineer now looked more relaxed than he had before T’Pol had taken his hand. He lay on his side, various tubes running into the back of his left hand, which rested on the top of the blanket. An oxygen mask was positioned on his face and he showed evidence of a head injury. “No, no, we don’t have any Captains,” said an approaching doctor, Archer assumed that this was Durandal’s Chief Medical Officer. “I believe you’re mistaken,” replied Reed drawing back the curtain. “I’d like to introduce you to Captain Charles Tucker III. Perhaps you could tell us his condition.” “Are you sure, Commander?” he asked and then stopped as he noticed who else was standing in his sickbay. “Admiral,” said the doctor, completely surprised to see Archer. “I didn’t realise that you were here, sir.” “I didn’t exactly announce my visit, doctor, and I’m sure you have better things to do than talk to visiting Admirals. If you could just let me know Captain Tucker’s condition, you can get back to your other patients.” The doctor pressed a button on the display above Trip’s head. “His lungs are badly congested,” began the doctor. “He contracted viral pneumonia a few days ago. You should be aware that a previous injury reduced his lung capacity,” said T’Pol. “That explains the scar tissue in his lungs. It was too well healed to be caused by the Romulan attack on Excalibur.” “What else?” asked Archer. “He has a mild concussion, fever, and a fracture of his right tibia. Neither are particularly serious, but, given his existing condition, it was decided that he should come to Durandal with the critical cases. He was in considerable respiratory distress and some pain when he was brought in, so he’s been sedated and put on oxygen. I’ve also started him on the required anti-virals and some other medication to help his breathing.” T’Pol nodded, knowing that the doctor was simply continuing the treatment that Phlox had started. “I’ve set the fracture in a plastic cast and we’re monitoring the head wound. The prognosis is very good. With a little rest he’ll be up and about fairly soon.” Archer and Reed exchanged a look that was lost on the doctor completely. Both men were well aware that Trip didn’t like resting and, with a broken leg, he’d be insufferable. “I will stay with him here,” said T’Pol. “He won’t be waking up for a few hours,” warned the doctor. “We can spare Captain T’Pol for as long as she needs,” said Archer. “I, on the other hand, need to get back to Tyrfing and start unravelling this mess. I’ve got four ships that need to be got out of the Neutral Zone.” “Of course, sir,” said Reed. “I should go too, I have duties to attend to back on Athena.” Archer gave Reed a sympathetic look, acknowledging the difficult task that Reed had ahead of him. The Admiral rested a hand briefly on Trip’s shoulder before he moved away towards the sickbay exit. “You might want to check your patients against Excalibur’s crew roster, doctor,” said Archer over his shoulder. “We don’t want any other cases of mistaken identity.” **** Trip vaguely remembered a pain in his leg and then more pain in his head before he’d lost track of time. After that there had been some fuzzy images. People were shouting and calling him Ensign, which he hadn’t understood because no one had called him Ensign for over ten years. He was struggling to breathe and really he didn’t care what people called him as long as they helped him. Eventually blackness had closed in around him again. Then suddenly a voice asked him “are you awake?” and it was as if that pulled him out of unconsciousness. His eyes snapped open and fixed on T’Pol who sat beside him. “Are you awake?” she asked again. “I guess,” he replied. His voice sounded muffled. “Could be dreaming.” T’Pol was the a very welcome sight. She gave him the barest hint of a non-smile and he felt the analogous feeling of happiness from her across their bond. “Feel a bit fuzzy,” he added and then realised that his voice sounded strange because he was breathing oxygen through a mask. “Where am I?” “Durandal’s sickbay,” said T’Pol. “Don’t talk, your breathing is not optimal.” Trip knew that he wasn’t breathing well and didn’t need T’Pol to tell him that, but he was aware that she was just worried about him. He took T’Pol’s advice and asked his question through their bond. “What happened? I guess it all turned out okay or I wouldn’t be here.” T’Pol replied telepathically. “I was unconscious, but the Admiral informed me that Durandal and Athena arrived in time to prevent Virideth destroying Excalbur.” “Their intention wasn’t ever to destroy us, svai. They wanted that ship really bad or they wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble. You don’t send the Admiral of the fleet to deal with a border skirmish.” “We did.” T’Pol accompanied her reply with a mental picture of Admiral Archer. “That’s different. The Admiral happened to be in the area,” replied Trip. “The Romulans saw an opportunity and took it.” “Either that or Valdore knew the Admiral was here and decided to get a little revenge. His plans never seem to work so well when the Admiral’s around.” “Perhaps the civilian ship was simply bait.” “Yeah, I’d thought of that too. The Romulans could have messed with their navigation. Lure in the ship, and wait for someone to come and rescue them. Given that we had all that trouble getting a signal out, it makes me wonder how a civilian distress signal could penetrate all that jamming. I’m thinking that the Romulans might have given it some help.” T’Pol detected that Trip was already working out how he could prove his hypothesis. She could see a flaw in his reasoning however. “If it was a trap, then it was poorly executed.” “They disabled one Starfleet ship and nearly disabled a second,” pointed out Trip. “They did not take into account how many ships we have patrolling the boarder,” thought T’Pol. “Oh I think they did, they just underestimated how many Romulan war-birds it takes to capture any ship that has Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed in charge of the Armoury.” Trip could tell that his comment amused T’Pol, although she never showed any external sign that this was the case. Trip shifted slightly on the biobed and suddenly realised that he had some aches and pains that he hadn’t been aware of before. T’Pol was unable to shield either her concern or the facts of Trip’s injuries from him. Their bond was a continuous feedback loop on both their emotions and physical sensations. “Could have been a lot worse,” Trip thought to his mate. It wasn’t much of a consolation, but it was all he had to offer her at this moment. He grasped T’Pol’s hand and threaded his fingers through hers. His expression suddenly changed. “You thought I was dead?” “I couldn’t sense anything through our bond from you. As I discovered later, you had been heavily sedated. The Admiral was unable to find your name listed among the wounded and assumed the worst.” “And I removed my rank insignia, so no one knew who I was,” Trip thought. He stared up at the ceiling, feeling guilty that he had put T’Pol through so much anxiety. “The medical staff did not follow procedure in identifying the wounded. You made a logical decision to attempt to confuse the Romulans.” “If they had the ship then all they would have needed to do was look up the personnel database.” “It would have taken them some time to work out who was who,” replied T’Pol. They both knew that no one had ever returned from a Romulan prison camp. Usually the Romulans killed anyone that they captured, but they had never had good reason to keep their captives alive before. Capturing a Starfleet vessel would have meant needing someone to tell them how it worked. “I thought Malcolm was going to destroy the ship if it looked like the Romulans were going to take it,” Trip said. “He tried. I believe there was a malfunction,” said T’Pol. Trip laughed silently and T’Pol felt his amusement. “I fail to see the humour. If it had worked then you would be dead.” “Sorry, it’s just so damn ridiculous. It only ever gets used once, and the one time we need it, it fails. The one system on the ship that’s meant to keep working no matter what. It has quadruple redundancies.” Trip paused a second and his expression changed to puzzlement. “Maybe whatever drugs they have me on are making me a bit strange.” “I suppose that it could be seen as humorous after the fact,” replied T’Pol. “I doubt that I will ever understand your sense of humour, even when you are not on pain medication.” T’Pol felt immense affection and love radiate from Trip. He loved the fact that he challenged her perceptions and continued to confuse her. He reached out a hand and touched the dressing on T’Pol’s head wound. He was worried about her. T’Pol gently took his hand in hers again. She was worried about him too. “You continue to put yourself in danger.” T’Pol’s thoughts were clear and sharp, and Trip knew that she felt very strongly about this. There were unresolved issues here that they needed to talk through. “So do you. I told the Admiral to look after you.” Behind the thought were so many echoes of other thoughts. How precious T’Pol was to him, how worried he had been about her and how much it would have hurt to lose her. “It was not his fault that I did not move out of the way quickly enough.” She sought to reassure Trip that she wasn’t badly injured, whilst absolving the Admiral of responsibility. She did not need looking after. Trip nodded in understanding and yawned. “We will talk more about this later. You should go back to sleep,” T’Pol thought. She began to think calming thoughts toward her t’hy’la, knowing that it would ease him into sleep. If performed properly, then what she was doing was as good as a sedative and it had worked for Trip before when he had been having trouble sleeping. “Hey, no fair,” Trip thought slightly fuzzily, as T’Pol’s thoughts calmed him and sleep took hold of his mind. T’Pol continued to meditate as Trip fell asleep. They both felt comfortable with each other’s minds, true communion forming as they drifted in dreams and nothingness. **** It took a little time, but eventually a procession of four ships made its way slowly out of the Neutral Zone. No Romulan pursuers appeared on their sensors for the duration of their journey. Archer breathed a little easier when they had finally left the Neutral Zone behind and started toward Deep Space One. They had to travel at the speed of the slowest ship, so it took them nearly three days to reach the space station. Unfortunately, as they left the influence of the Romulan jamming frequencies, they came into range of sub-space communications again. The newly formed Federation had a diplomatic nightmare on its hands. The Romulans were crying foul and demanding Archer’s head for the transgression. By the time the ships docked at Deep Space One, Archer had already told his version of the story several times to the ranking Admirals of the Fleet. It was becoming tedious to say the least. T’Pol was having a similar experience with the Vulcan high command. They wanted her perspective on the story and didn’t seem entirely satisfied with Archer’s version. Archer could tell that T’Pol was sorry about this but there was very little that either of them could do to cut through the bureaucracy. Deep Space One was a welcome port in a storm. T’Pol gave him back his guest quarters and she made sure that he was undisturbed while he played diplomat. At least at Deep Space One Archer had the support of his fellow Commanding Officers, who were all either waiting for their ships to be repaired or helping out with the repairs. Austin and Reed were both prepared to back his account of how things had happened in the Neutral Zone, along with the civilian transport’s captain. Captain Vaughan of Durandal and Captain Stewart of Athena were also able to corroborate later events. Unfortunately the Romulans refused to believe anything that they said. The door chime sounded. “Come in,” shouted Archer. He turned around on his chair to see the silhouette of T’Pol outlined in the light from the corridor. She entered and sat on an armchair at the end of the bunk facing Archer. “Captain T’Pol, have you managed to catch up with everything yet?” asked Archer. T’Pol had left a half built station in the hands of her third in command while she had been away. Archer knew that T’Pol had to be pleased to come back and still find work progressing satisfactorily. “I have a capable crew,” replied T’Pol. “Have you made any progress?” “A little,” said Archer, looking back at his screen. “The whole thing is a nightmare, but at least Malcolm got his promotion to full Commander out of it. I’ve just signed off on the paperwork to make him the first officer of Excalibur, under the newly promoted Captain Street. It’s the fastest I’ve ever seen anyone make full Commander, with the possible exception of Trip.” “Commander Reed performed well. What is the latest from the Romulans?” “They’re not admitting to setting a trap and the evidence we need to prove it is still in the Neutral Zone. Valdore is trying to save face by stirring up trouble for us, but I don’t think the Romulans really want a war. They haven’t recovered from the last one yet.” T’Pol nodded in agreement. She paused unsure how to broach the next subject that she had come to discuss. “The Vulcans are unhappy with my involvement in this incident. Even though I have been a Starfleet officer for over six years, they still regard me as their representative.” “This was a Federation mission, T’Pol. If that had been a Vulcan ship stuck in the Neutral Zone I would still have gone in to get them,” said Archer. “I am well aware of that, Admiral, however the Federation is still young and they are not accustomed to thinking of Starfleet as a force for the defence of the alliance.” “I know, but I wish they’d at least start trusting us.” “It was suggested that now Vulcan ships are also part of Starfleet, I should consider a posting with my fellow Vulcans again.” “What did you say?” “That Deep Space One would be providing me with sufficient challenges for the time being,” replied T’Pol. Archer smiled. T’Pol was an asset to the Federation wherever she chose to serve, but he was pleased that she had decided to remain on Deep Space One. He had of course never doubted for a moment that she would stay. There was one obvious tie that kept her on the space station. “Speaking of challenges, how’s Trip doing? I haven’t been able to get down to sickbay much.” “He is demanding early release and complaining about the sickbay food,” said T’Pol. “Feeling better then?” asked Archer with a grin. “His lungs are almost clear of all congestion. The pneumonia should be completely dealt with in another two days. His head injury is healing well and the cast will come off his leg in three weeks time, assuming that the bones have healed satisfactorily.” T’Pol looked down at the ring on her finger for a moment. Archer’s curiosity got the better of him and he had to ask the question he’d had on his mind ever since he’d spotted the simple band on T’Pol’s finger. It had a single, small, round, purple stone in its centre, set flush into the gold of the band. It wasn’t ostentatious and it suited T’Pol perfectly. “I’ve been meaning to ask about your ring. Did Trip give it to you?” “It is not a Vulcan custom to give rings to one’s mate but he seemed to think it was important.” “So you two got married?” Giving rings could only mean one thing. “No. That would mean we would be breaking Starfleet regulations regarding our both being posted to Deep Space One. I may have bent several regulations so that Trip and I can be together, but I will not break them. You are aware of our telepathic Vulcan marriage bond.” A statement not a question, but Archer nodded. “Despite this, we have never formally been joined in Vulcan or Human law. Trip has said that we are “engaged” and given my research on human marriage terminology this seems to be an acceptable…state of affairs.” “Are you planning on getting married?” “Once we have completed our tours of duty on Deep Space One we plan to uphold both culture’s marriage traditions. Now that the Federation has been formed we feel that we may stand a better chance of being accepted.” T’Pol inclined her head slightly as if she were listening to someone. “Trip would like me to ask you to be his “best man”.” Archer laughed and accepted. After all what else was there to do? He was told that he gave a pretty good speech. **** Trip was released from sickbay five days after his return to Deep Space One. His leg was still in a plastic cast, but Phlox had given him crutches and instructed him how to use them. He and T’Pol had limped down the hallway to their quarters. Two single cabins with a connecting door between them. They used one cabin as a lounge and the other as their bedroom. “Did I mention that I hate crutches?” said Trip, as he struggled in through the door. Trying to use crutches and get over a door lip was tricky. “Your feelings on the matter are very clear to me,” replied T’Pol. Trip had been radiating annoyance and frustration all the way down the corridor from sickbay. He slumped down in an armchair, propping up the crutches beside him. The walk back had exhausted him. He reached down to the table beside the chair and picked up a padd. “What are you doing?” asked T’Pol. “Catching up on paperwork,” replied Trip, immediately realising that T’Pol was unhappy with him. “You are meant to be resting,” said T’Pol. “I can rest and do paperwork. Stop fussing over me.” “I am not fussing. We need to discuss this.” T’Pol mentally felt out for her t’hy’la and found ironclad shields. Trip was angry and had shut her out. They were going to have to have this discussion verbally. “You’re worried that I have a death wish. Even with our bond, you still can’t understand me.” T’Pol got the impression that Trip would have liked to have paced around the room if he hadn’t had a cast on his leg. “It is not that I think that you want to die, I just believe that you do not value your own life enough. I cannot have a relationship with you if you continue to risk your life in this way.” “Did you want me to leave Malcolm out there in the Neutral Zone?” “No. However you left sickbay twice in order to help in the rescue attempt. You put your health at risk. You went to Excalibur and put yourself into a dangerous situation.” “It’s what I do, T’Pol. It’s what we both do. You put yourself in danger to save my life after the explosion. Why won’t you let me do the same?” “You said that I don’t understand you, but you also need to understand me, especially if our future plans are to come to fruition. I cannot continually be concerned for your safety. Our work does involve dangerous situations but we calculate the risk in those situations. You are placing yourself in additional, unnecessary, danger. I love you, t’hy’la, and I do not want to see you hurt.” Trip was about to reply when he stopped for a second. “You know, you’ve never said that you love me before. You’ve told me ashau nash-veh du and you’ve thought it, but you’ve never said “I love you”.” “I was not aware that it was important to you that I say it in English.” “I guess I didn’t know that it was until you said it.” Trip sighed. “I can be a stubborn son of bitch when I want to be and I’m real sorry that I haven’t been listening to you. I know how much you mean to me and if I mean the same to you then I have a good idea of how much hurt I’ve been causing you.” “You have felt both my love and concern for you,” said T’Pol. “Yeah, and ignored them. I’m not saying I can stop being who I am, but next time I’ll think before I do something stupid. No more unnecessary risks without thinking them through. Okay?” “That is acceptable,” said T’Pol. “And I will endeavour to stop “fussing”.” “Good, but I do need to finish this report for the Admiral, so will you let me off this once?” “You may finish your report but I will not allow you to start on the Engineering data,” said T’Pol. “You are still recovering from your injuries and you need rest.” “Sounds like a fair deal to me,” replied Trip. They settled down to their work, T’Pol scanning through padds of data on the progress of repairs and the latest in the diplomatic soothing of the Romulans. War was now no longer likely but the Romulans were probably going to use the incident as an excuse to cause further trouble. T’Pol dropped her shields and felt Trip do the same. His thoughts merged with hers and they were content, happy to simply be able to spend time together without intergalactic incidents interrupting. “T’Pol, what was the name of the civilian ship that started this whole mess?” asked Trip. T’Pol looked up briefly from her own work. “It was the Kobayashi Maru.” ******** Appendices: Ship names: USS Dauntless – Named after HMS Dauntless. There have been four Royal Navy ships of this name, the most recent is one of the new Type 45 destroyers and is due for launch in 2006. NX03 Challenger, NX04 Discovery, NX05 Atlantis, NX06 Endeavour – This continues the naming scheme (ignoring the mirror universe) of the NX class which are called after the NASA shuttles. USS Athena – Athena was the ancient Greek goddess of wisdom and battle. USS Excalibur – Excalibur was the mythical sword of King Arthur, given to him by the Lady of the Lake. USS Durandal – Durandal was said to be the sword of Hector, the oldest son of the King of Troy. Later it passed to Roland a heroic Frankish seneschal. USS Tyrfing – Tyrfing was a magic sword in Norse mythology that was forged by dwarf slave labour for the grandson of Odin. The dwarves cursed the sword so that it would kill the man who had forced them to create it. Dramatis Personae: Excalibur: Captain Hajime Watanabe – Commanding Officer Commander Nikolai Zukov – Chief Engineer Commander Rachael Street – Second in Command Lieutenant Commander Malcolm Reed – Armoury Officer Lieutenant Simon Jones – SIC Armoury Ensign Ian Bell – Security Ensign Marcus Trescothick – Security Ensign Steve Harmison – Armoury Ensign Ashley Giles – Science Doctor Sonok – Chief Medical Officer Tyrfing: Captain Amanda Austin – Commanding Officer Commander Kelby – Chief Engineer Lieutenant Andi Flintoff – SIC Engineering (on loan to Excalibur) Lieutenant Kevin Pietersen – Armoury Officer Ensign Riley – Communications Officer Ensign Fisher – Helmswoman Ensign Ohta – Engineer (on loan to Excalibur) Ensign Julius – Engineer (on loan to Excalibur) Ensign West – Engineer (on loan to Excalibur) Durandal: Captain Michael Vaughan – Commanding Officer Athena: Captain Alexander Stewart – Commanding Officer Deep Space One: Captain T’Pol – Commanding Officer Captain Charles Tucker III – Chief Engineer Doctor Phlox – Chief Medical Officer Elsewhere: Admiral Jonathan Archer Professor Hoshi Sato Lieutenant Travis Mayweather – Helmsman USS Dauntless The Romulans: Admiral Valdore – Romulan Fleet Commander, Captain of Virideth Commander Tamek – Captain of Evarra **** END ****

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