"Songs in Red and Grey" 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 ordered to go on one last mission for Special Projects, but as usual nothing is as simple as it seems. Author's Note: This is the sequel to Red Rain. In this universe Reed is not part of Section 31, in fact Special Projects could be seen as a sort of proto-Section 31. One of these days I’ll get around to rewriting the appropriate scenes in “Affliction” and “Divergence” so that they fit in with this universe. Star Trek physics is broken and Star Trek Stellar Cartography doubly so. I’m sticking with Qo’nos being four days away from Earth at warp 4.5. Still I am sure I was only but one Of a number who darkened that door Of your home and your hearth and your family and wife Who’d been darkened so often before Oh, the red leaf looks to the hard grey stone To each other, they know what they mean Somewhere, their future is still yet to come In ways that are yet as of now unforeseen - Suzanne Vega, Songs in Red and Grey **** The Armoury firing range reverberated with the sound of phase rifle fire. The dark metal walls reflected light from the firing range in bursts. “So how did the Captain take it?” asked Reed as he aimed his weapon at the target and fired. Trip waited for Reed to finish his sequence before he spoke. “Badly.” Reed smiled. “One of our MACO officers going to act as advisor to the Andorians? I’m not surprised.” He checked the display to see how he’d done and was pleased to see a ninety-five percent average. “The Colonel never was one to be conventional,” replied Trip, checking his own rifle before he stepped up to the marks. “That’s certainly true, but I guess you don’t get into covert ops without being a little unconventional.” Trip just gave Malcolm a look. “You suggesting something, Lieutenant?” “You have to admit that you don’t always follow procedure,” said Reed. “Says the man who wanted to draw power for the phase cannons directly from the impulse engine.” “You’re the one who let me do it. Are we going to talk or finish the target practice? Your average isn’t getting any better, Commander,” said Reed. “Don’t I know it,” said Trip, taking up position. “don’t I know it.” He’d had a solid seventy percent average for as long as he’d been on board Enterprise. It was better than the crew average, but considering that most of them were scientists and engineers that wasn’t that surprising. He was about to start his sequence when he heard the door open behind him. He turned to see their visitor. “Don’t stop on my account,” said the dark haired woman. After their last mission, MACO Captain Anna Kanatova had needed a lift back to Vulcan and, since it was on Enterprise’s route, Archer had offered to play taxi. Trip suspected the only reason he’d offered was because the MACO had beaten him at chess and he wanted a rematch. “Anna, I don’t need an audience,” said Trip. “I’m just waiting my turn,” replied Kanatova. She leaned against the wall behind her. She was wearing her green MACO uniform that bore the red caduceus insignia of the MACO medical corps and indicated that she was also a doctor. Trip gave Reed the nod to start the program. He completed the sequence and turned to Reed for his result. “Not bad, seventy five percent. You’re getting better.” Kanatova burst into laughter behind them. Reed turned to look at her. “What’s so funny?” asked Reed, completely missing the look of dread on Trip’s face. “Anna,” growled Trip in warning. “Trip getting seventy-five percent and you say he’s improving,” replied Kanatova, wiping the tears out of her eyes. “He’s better than I am and I have a ninety average. The only one who could beat him was Carter and he was the team sharpshooter.” “Trip?” asked Reed, in disbelief. “Trip’s not bad, but he’s no where near as good…” He trailed off and took in Trip’s look of embarrassment. “You really are as good as she says, aren’t you?” said Reed in resignation. “I was. I’m a bit out of practice. Only managed a ninety-six on my last session.” “Okay, before we go into how you managed to have secret target practice sessions on my Armoury range without my knowledge, why would you even bother to hide this?” asked Reed. “At first for the same reason I didn’t want people to know I could fight. Later I thought about progressively pretending to get better, but you weren’t exactly happy when Major Hayes showed off his target shooting skills…” said Trip. “Damn right I wasn’t happy. He set me up.” “Well, that’s why I didn’t let on how good I was. Didn’t think you’d appreciate me showing you up like that.” “Showing me up? Trip, this isn’t the same situation. If you’re a better marksman than me, I really don’t care. This isn’t a competition. Why don’t you show me what you can really do?” Trip nodded a little reluctantly. He stepped up to the marks again and readied himself to fire. Reed started the program and watched Trip go into what he referred to as “MACO mode”. When Trip was tapping into his MACO training he had a different look about him. He was somehow more focused and his body moved in a different way, all signs of clumsiness gone. “Ninety-seven percent,” said Reed, reading off the result from the screen. “Welcome to the Enterprise shooting elite. I’ll have to get you to shoot against Ensign Romanov, she’s the only person to ever achieve a perfect score on this program.” “I’m not that good,” said Trip. “I should have got Carter to give you a demonstration when he was on board.” “Actually he did. We had to do something while you were lazing around in sick bay, you know,” said Reed. “Lazing with a severe concussion, broken ribs, dislocated shoulder and broken fingers,” interjected Kanatova. Trip cast her a look which told her to keep quiet. “So you’re not upset?” “No. There’s a difference between showing up my inadequacies on purpose and just being better. This is who you are, Trip,” replied Reed. “I still wish it wasn’t,” replied Trip. “Don’t be embarrassed by your abilities,” said Reed. “I wish I was as good.” “Yeah, but I know who I want beside me if we run into a Klingon bird of prey out here,” pointed out Trip. The duties of the Armoury and Security officer weren’t limited to being able to shoot straight. No one knew weapons like Lieutenant Reed, or had a such a fine grasp of enemy hostile manoeuvres. Trip could explain how the phase cannons drew power but he’d have very little idea how to calibrate them for the best possible performance. However, the problem remained that Trip knew how to shoot because of his past, a past that he would rather forget, and no one could do anything about that. The com alert sounded. “Commander Tucker to the com,” said Hoshi’s unmistakeable tones. Trip moved to a wall com unit. “Tucker here,” he said. “Commander, I have a Colonel Daria Andros on the subspace band for you. She would like you to take the call in your quarters. Apparently it concerns a confidential matter,” said Hoshi. “Thanks, Hoshi, give me a moment and then put it through,” replied Trip. “Andros?” asked Kanatova, “she’s the latest head of Intelligence at MACO HQ. What could she possibly want?” “I guess I’m about to find out,” said Trip, heading out of the Armoury. *** Trip sat down at the desk in his quarters apprehensively. A few moments later his caller appeared on the vid screen in front of him. Colonel Andros was in her mid to late forties with dark brown hair that was cut to a neat, short bob. Her eyes were an equally deep brown and, if it wasn’t for the scar across her left eye down her cheek, she would have been considered quite beautiful. Her dark green MACO uniform clearly showed her rank of Colonel and her assignment as Intelligence Corps. Trip had heard the rumours about this woman, the same as Kanatova had. She was ambitious and on the fast track to make General. No doubt she was now trying to prove herself in her new post as Head of Intelligence. “Colonel Andros, what can I do for you?” MACO protocol indicated that he should salute when reporting to a superior officer, even across a com channel, but he wasn’t a MACO any longer. He would have saluted Colonel Darwin, his former unit commander, even now, but it was a sign of respect rather than rank or his former honorary MACO status. “I have a mission for you,” said Andros, getting straight to the point. “I need you to go to a planet in the Coriolis system. It’s about a week’s journey from Enterprise’s current position.” “Ma’am, with respect, hang on a minute there, I think you’ve made a mistake. I’m not under your command and I’m not a MACO,” said Trip. “I know that you’re not, despite your training. However I need an Engineer for this mission,” replied Andros. “Coriolis is a backward planet without warp capable ships. In the interests of galactic peace we believe that they should be given warp drive technology.” Trip realised that she was the type of military leader that he really hated, the kind that expected unquestioning loyalty. She was assuming that he would jump at her word without even getting the full story. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Trip. “That violates so many rules of contact that I don’t know where to begin.” “The Vulcans have a rule of non-interference, not us,” said Andros. “There’s a damn good reason that they have that rule and we agreed that we’d abide by the Vulcan code when we launched Enterprise,” replied Trip. “Contaminating another culture is a serious business.” “Special Projects never seemed to worry too much about that,” retorted Andros. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” said Trip. “Why are you so willing to give Coriolis warp technology anyway?” “It’s expedient to the galactic situation,” said Andros. “Expedient? You want me to contaminate an entire culture and give away Starfleet secrets because it’s expedient?” “Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear, this is a direct order, Commander.” “You can’t give me orders, Colonel. Why me anyway? You’ve got to have half a dozen personnel who could do this and are actually in the MACOs.” “What we need, Commander Tucker, is a rare commodity, an engineer with covert operations experience. Do you know how many of them there are in the fleet?” “Do you know how may regulations this violates?” “Which is why this is Special Projects.” “There is no Special Projects. It was disbanded after the Faranor mission.” “I beg to differ, Commander.” “You reinstated it?” Andros nodded. “Some time ago.” “I’m not going back to Special Projects.” Trip’s eyes were hard and set with determination. “You know that no one ever leaves Special Projects, Tucker.” “I did.” “No, you just think you did.” “You can’t order me to do this. I have duties on Enterprise. I’m the god damn Chief Engineer.” “Your current assignment is of no interest to me. Make no mistake, Commander, you are mine now. I can make life very difficult for you. There are things that Special Projects did that you don’t want brought into the light.” “There are things that you don’t want known about as well. I did what I had to. I may not have liked it, but it was what was needed.” “If you go to Coriolis, then I’ll make your record clean. Special Projects will never have happened.” “It happened, I can’t just wipe it from my memory. I live with my decisions every day.” “Yes, I heard about your recent adventures with the retired Colonel Darwin. To me it seems like you can’t let go of the good old days.” “There were no good old days!” shouted Trip, jumping up from his chair. “This wasn’t some vacation for us. We killed people and you can never understand how much I regret what I did. And you know what, you can’t use it against me, Captain Archer already knows what I did and so do Starfleet.” “Yes, I had noticed that breach of confidentiality. I’m not sure that we should have front line officers with the kind of knowledge that you have. The risk of enemy capture is very high. Perhaps I should arrange for transfers for you and your Captain.” “What? You can’t take Enterprise away from Captain Archer.” “I can and I will if you don’t co-operate,” replied the Colonel. “One of the things about being in intelligence is that you know the dirt on everyone. It would only take a couple of com calls to have your Captain removed.” “I can’t leave Enterprise without a Chief Engineer.” “They can cope without you for a little while. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of months at most. I have temporary transfer orders ready to go on your word. All I need is your say so, Tucker, and this mission is yours.” She paused before continuing. “Or I can draft recall orders for yourself and Captain Archer. It’s up to you.” “Fine, you’ve got your pound of flesh. I’ll do it, but I don’t like it,” said Trip. “You don’t have to like it, you just have follow orders,” replied Colonel Andros. “Your new orders will be with you by the end of the day and Captain Archer will receive instructions to rendezvous with your transport. Andros out.” Trip dropped his head and sighed. The Captain wasn’t going to like this. Kanatova was at his door a few minutes later. He’d expected her visit. She breezed into his quarters, her eyes going to the screen where Andros’ image had been moments before. “So what did she want?” “The usual. Top secret mission to the middle of nowhere.” “You turned her down, I assume.” Kanatova slumped unceremoniously onto his bed. Trip had been looking down at his hands unwilling to meet Kanatova’s gaze. Now he flicked his eyes up to meet hers. She understood his silence immediately. “You’re going?” Trip nodded. “She hasn’t given me a choice.” “What’s the mission?” “You know I can’t tell you that.” “So you’re just going back to the life, just like that?” “No, damn it, not just like that. I can’t do anything else.” “You’re giving in too easily. There’s always a way out.” Trip gave Kanatova a rueful smile. “Maybe with a team of Special Ops MACOs to back me up. This isn’t the same.” “No, I suppose it isn’t.” Kanatova got up from the bed and stretched out the kinks in her muscles. “You’re not going to tell me what this is all about, are you?” “And let you get into trouble as well? Uh uh. I have to do this.” Kanatova sighed in exasperation. “You always were stubborn. Well, it’s your funeral. I just hope not literally.” **** Trip stood outside Captain Archer’s door and rehearsed what he was going to say. He’d just received his transfer orders only a few minutes earlier and almost everything they contained was marked classified, which was going to make this even harder. He was putting off the inevitable and, to be honest, there was no way to make what he had to say sound any better than it was. If he didn’t go in soon the orders from Colonel Andros would be on the Captain’s desk before he had a chance to warn him, and that was not a situation that he wanted to be in. He kept on reminding himself that his last brush with Special Projects had earned him strike two in the Captain’s eyes and he really didn’t want this to be strike three and out. Trip nervously reached out a hand to press the button for the doorbell only to find the door sliding open in front of him. Archer was reading a padd and nearly bumped into his Chief Engineer. “Trip! I was just on my way to see you. How quickly do you think we can make it to Andoria?” Trip didn’t answer and it only took Archer a moment to take in the worried look on his face. “What’s the problem, Trip?” “Captain, I need to talk to you,” said Trip. Archer stepped back into his room, and indicated for Trip to follow him. The door slid shut behind them. “Talk to me.” “You’re going to be getting some new orders through from Starfleet before the end of the day concerning me.” Trip’s voice was dull and lacked its usual animation. Everything about his posture radiated just how much he didn’t want to be telling Archer this. “I’m temporarily being transferred off Enterprise, as soon as we can rendezvous with my transport to my new post.” Archer was stunned for a few moments and wasn’t quite sure what to say. Trip could see Archer trying to adjust his perspective to this new piece of information. His manner was subdued when he phrased his first question. “The correct procedure if you want a transfer is to come to me, Trip. Why didn’t you?” There was a mixture of hidden hurt and anger behind this question. “I didn’t ask for it, Captain. I’ve done some stupid things in my time, but going over your head isn’t one of them.” Archer got down his decanter of bourbon and two glasses from their resting place. He took a seat at his desk and indicated for Trip to sit as well. Trip gratefully slumped into the chair and took the generously poured measure of spirits that Archer set before him. He gently swirled the liquid in the glass, warming it with his hands, before taking a large sip. “So are you going to tell me what this is all about or do I have to get you drunk first?” “I don’t think that my boss would be too happy if I got drunk on the job.” Trip gave Archer a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes. It just wasn’t in him to joke at the moment. “Your boss might make an exception in this case,” replied Archer. “Do you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you drunk. All those times we went out drinking and I never noticed that I was always the one that needed to be helped home.” “Someone had to look after you, and it wasn’t that often,” replied Trip. “You’re stalling, Trip,” said Archer. “Please tell me that this isn’t more Special Projects madness.” Trip took a deep breath. “I got a call from Colonel Andros this afternoon. She’s head of MACO Intelligence at the moment and that means she’s also in charge of Special Projects.” “Special Projects doesn’t exist any more.” “She reinstated it. Something came up that requires, how did she put it, an engineer with covert operations experience. ” “You’re not a MACO. She can’t order you to do anything,” said Archer. “I tried to turn her down, but she made it clear that I don’t have a choice.” Trip took another large sip of his drink. “I’ll call Admiral Gardner, get him to sort this out.” Archer reached for the com button, but Trip reached out a hand and stopped him. “He can’t help,” said Trip. Archer looked at his friend for a moment and realisation dawned. “She’s holding something over you. What has she got on you?” Trip hung his head. “Enterprise.” “Enterprise?” Archer didn’t understand. “I was a member of a covert MACO black ops unit with access to a lot of sensitive information. She could make a case for saying I should be back on Earth where I can’t be caught and interrogated by an enemy. I don’t want to lose Enterprise.” Trip knocked back the remainder of his bourbon in one shot. He felt the liquid burn pleasantly down his throat as he stared through the window in Archer’s quarters out at the stars. He sure as hell wasn’t going to burden Archer with the knowledge that it had really been him who Andros had threatened with being posted to Earth. If Archer knew that he was being used to make Trip do this then there was no telling what he might have done. The simple fact was that Trip didn’t really care what happened to himself, but by bringing his friends into it, Colonel Andros had found his weak spot. “I would never let that happen, Trip.” “You wouldn’t be able to stop it. She’s a powerful woman and you know that Special Projects has some important friends. It’s not for long anyway,” said Trip. “How long?” “Two months, give or take, and depending on what Enterprise is up to when my assignment’s complete. I’ll be back before you know it.” “You still haven’t told me what the assignment is,” said Archer. “Or where you’re going.” “I can’t tell you. I wish I could, but opening my big mouth when I shouldn’t has got me into more than enough trouble recently. The less you know the better.” “Actually it was because you didn’t tell me about Special Projects in the first place that…” “I nearly lost your friendship,” finished Trip, solemnly. This was still a raw wound for both of them, although they each now saw where they had been at fault regarding their behaviour, they preferred not to discuss past problems and move on. “But that was because it affected Enterprise. This time I promise not to get you involved.” “I’d be less worried about you if Enterprise was involved,” said Archer. “You know if I could see any way out of this then I’d take it.” Trip’s eyes showed open and honest regret. When Archer replied, his voice was full of quiet sincerity. “I know.” **** The orders to rendezvous with the transport that would take Trip to his assignment arrived in Archer’s mail that same afternoon. Archer already had other things to consider, however, and he couldn’t spend long brooding about what Trip was walking into this time. He called the usual staff meeting to discuss their up coming mission. “Our mission to Vulcan has been postponed,” said Archer to his assembled senior staff. Reed and T’Pol stood to his right hand side, while Phlox, Sato and Mayweather were arrayed down the left side of the table. The only person missing was Trip - he was busy packing for his upcoming mission. “Kanatova’s not going to be happy,” said Reed. “We’ll drop her off on our way back. Besides she might come in useful for our next mission,” said Archer. “We’re going to Andoria.” T’Pol raised an eyebrow. “For what purpose?” “They’ve got an epidemic on their hands. It’s a disease that they’ve never seen before and so far they’ve drawn a blank on finding a cure. They’re hoping that Doctor Phlox can help.” “I shall certainly do my best, but from the data that I have received so far this is unlike any Andorian disease that I have ever seen. I really need more information.” Phlox looked worried. “Then we are required to reach Andoria urgently,” said T’Pol. “I take it that Commander Tucker has already been informed and that is why he is not present.” “Commander Tucker isn’t coming with us to Andoria.” Everyone turned to look at Archer. “We’re making a small stop on the way.” “If you don’t mind me asking, where’s he going, sir?” asked Reed. “All I’ve been told is that Enterprise is to rendezvous with his transport and that he’ll be away for a couple of months. Lieutenant Hess will be in charge of Engineering until he returns,” said Archer. Several glances were exchanged around the table and he wondered whether his officers had already guessed that this had something to do with Special Projects. Officially the unit didn’t exist anymore but somehow Trip just didn’t seem to be able to shake his past, and everyone around the table was aware of that. “Right now we have rather more pressing concerns.” Everyone seemed to be reminded that they were meant to be discussing the Andorian situation, and returned their attention to the screen on the table in front of them that displayed information on the status of the disease’s progress. The rest of the briefing proceeded normally, with Phlox emphasising all the precautions that they would need to take. Some diseases were unable to jump species barriers, but since they weren’t sure what exactly they were dealing with here it was wise to assume the worst. Everyone was aware of how easy it was to spread an illness through the entire ship very quickly, a recent outbreak of the common cold had made that all too apparent. The briefing concluded and Archer dismissed his officers. Lieutenant Reed lingered for a moment, obviously hoping for a private word with his Captain. “Something I can do for you, Malcolm?” “I believe Commander Tucker informed you that Colonel Darwin is on Andoria at the moment,” said Reed. “Does that have anything to do with why the Commander isn’t joining us?” “I wish I knew, Malcolm,” replied Archer. “I really did just get orders that tell us to meet this transport. Trip isn’t talking but I get the impression that the information he’s been given is minimal.” “This is Special Projects though, isn’t it?” Archer nodded. “Apparently the concept, if not the actual unit, has been reinstated by the new MACO Head of Intelligence. Trip didn’t want to go but they threatened him with removal from Enterprise if he doesn’t.” “Isn’t there anything that we can do?” Reed obviously didn’t like this any more than Archer did. Sometimes Reed reminded him of a guard dog who liked to have all his sheep in one place so that he could protect them more easily. “Trip doesn’t seem to think so. You know as well as I do how bullet proof Special Projects is.” “Maybe the Colonel can shed some light on what’s going on,” suggested Reed. “I’m not exactly on good terms with Darwin at the moment, and Andoria is at least a week away at high warp. If he even knows anything at all.” Archer had actually been the one responsible for getting Colonel Darwin dismissed from the MACOs and that was only the latest issue between them. He just didn’t like what the Colonel stood for and the two of them always clashed. “He still owes Trip a few favours.” “More than a few from what I’ve heard. I’m sure Trip can look after himself for a few weeks, Malcolm.” “If you believed that, sir, then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Archer realised that Reed was absolutely right. Trip had a way of getting himself into trouble and any association with Special Projects seemed to multiply that propensity. Trip could handle himself in a fight better than anyone else that Archer knew, but being able to defend oneself wasn’t always enough. “Do you think you could do some digging and find out what his orders are? Or at least where he’s going?” asked Archer. “Perhaps,” said Reed. “It depends how good their security is. They had a complete overhaul of their procedures after we were able to access classified information last time. I might need to borrow Hoshi’s code breaking skills if I hit a brick wall.” “Do what you need to, Malcolm, but I want to know where Trip is going and what the hell is so important that they need to steal my Chief Engineer from me.” ****End of Chapter One**** Colonel Robert Darwin, retired MACO, sat at the window of the shuttle and looked out across the ice wastes of Andoria as they slid past beneath the transport. The ice sparkled coldly in the bright sun light, stretching away into the distance. Snow was whipped up by the wind and formed dunes, with misty powder drifting from their tops. It was currently summer and the temperature outside today was about minus thirty. That meant it was scorching hot in Andorian terms. The view was simply beautiful but he was aware that the low temperatures outside made it a very dangerous landscape. The Andorians were used to it and didn’t worry much about venturing outside on days like this. As a human he wasn’t able to go outside unless he was dressed for arctic conditions and on some days it was simply too cold for him to even consider leaving the base where he was currently stationed. He had been staying at a military outpost in the eastern region for just over a month now and was beginning to get used to his new accommodations. Today he was on his way to a military conference in Kantev, the largest city on the planet with a population of over eight million Andorians. It was also the nearest city to his current posting. The majority of Andorian cities were built underground and this one was no exception, with only several small entrances poking up above the surface of the ice. The blue-skinned Andorian pilot set the shuttle down on an ice-bound landing pad beside an entrance way and the various Imperial Guard personnel prepared to disembark. As usual he had been almost ignored by his Andorian colleagues on the journey. He hadn’t expected a warm welcome when he arrived on Andoria, on a planet which never rose above sub zero temperatures it would have been rather ironic, but he had hoped for some sort of acceptance. So far he hadn’t hit it off with the other Andorians and all his attempts at being friendly had been met with suspicion. However, the Imperial Guard had appointed him to review the structure and tactics of their military operations, and he intended to do that no matter what the opposition. He wasn’t here to make friends. Unfortunately the job itself seemed to be making him even more unpopular and he had already managed to make some controversial recommendations, the chief of these being the end of Andorian compulsory military service. At the moment every Andorian adult of a certain age had to complete a period of military service. In Andoria’s past this had made some sense, but now the extra unskilled men and women that it poured into the system, many of whom would rather not be there, were unnecessary and a burden on resources. To Darwin it was an obvious change to make but he had underestimated how important military service was as a part of Andorian cultural identity. His proposal to abolish it had earned him more enemies than friends. The conference he was attending today was to discuss relations with their neighbours the Vulcans and Tellarites. Half the Andorian top brass would be there and this was his chance to show them that he really was worth the hassle that he was causing them. He was presenting a plan for the covert surveillance of Vulcan. He never would have believed the problems that being a blue-skinned, antennaed race presented. It wasn’t as if any of the Andorians could go undercover on Vulcan with only minor cosmetic surgery. Andorians couldn’t cut off their antennae without serious balance issues, so he had been “creative”. He had lost count of the number of times that his covert ops experience had come in useful these last few weeks. He and the rest of his party moved as quickly as they could from the shuttle into the city and down to the conference venue. He was escorted by his own personal body guard, whose name had been given to him as Ensign Tepiksel, but they hadn’t exchanged more than two words in a row since his arrival. As he was ushered through the corridors that formed the streets of the city, he was able to glance out through huge picture windows and see the city buildings, clinging to the rocks of the vast cave structure like limpets. The whole city took its power from geothermal energy and was kept at a reasonably pleasant temperature. It was an amazing feat of Engineering which the Andorians accepted as commonplace. The conference itself was being held in a large military complex that was the headquarters for the Imperial Guard. Darwin had been sent an agenda earlier in the week and knew where he was supposed to be going. In any case he had learnt enough Andorian to be able to read signposts, although he wouldn’t be telling anyone here how he had gained his knowledge of the language. The fact that he had once stolen an Andorian cruiser was not going to endear him to his hosts. Before the sessions began there was refreshment laid on in a large atrium area which was rapidly filling up with conference attendees. Around the edge of the room were set up huge screens showing news programs and military information films. Darwin stopped to watch one of the screens and found himself bumping shoulders with an unknown Andorian whose shoulder tabs identified him as a Commander in the Imperial Guard. “My apologies, Commander,” said Darwin. Instead of ignoring him and moving away as he had expected, the Andorian turned towards him. “A pink skin. Colonel Darwin if I am not mistaken,” said the Andorian. Darwin nodded and allowed himself a slightly baffled smile. “There is only one human at this conference, but you are the only person here who has actually been polite enough to notice me so far.” “Then I should probably introduce myself as well. I am Commander Shran, currently I have the honour to be in command of the battle cruiser Kumari.” Darwin nodded. He recognised the name instantly. “It’s good to meet you. I think we have a mutual acquaintance in the shape of Captain Archer and his crew.” “You know Captain Archer?” asked Shran, a little surprised. “We, er, met recently. His Chief Engineer and I served together for a while, many years ago.” “Ah yes, Commander Tucker. A fine engineer. But I thought that you were in the MACOs before your retirement.” Shran sounded slightly puzzled. “It’s a long story,” said Darwin. He registered that Shran seemed to know at least some basic information about him. “That doesn’t surprise me. You humans can be quite…complicated.” “Indeed we can.” Darwin paused for a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, you’re rather more friendly than some of your fellow Andorians…” “You want to know why I’m prepared to talk to you when most of my kind are ignoring you?” Darwin gave a small shrug. “Yeah.” “Many of my fellow officers have only ever had bad experiences with aliens. Mostly Vulcans.” Shran spat the name of their neighbours with obvious vitriol. “Your appointment was controversial, but in my opinion a necessary one. We need to diversify our strategies and adding an alien perspective can only improve on that. Captain Archer has proven that you pink skins are smarter than you look.” “Thank you, I think,” said Darwin. “Back handed compliments are all you can expect here,” said Shran. “Be glad of them.” “I’ll remember that.” A loud tone sounded repeatedly around the room and Shran’s antennae pricked up. “Our first session is starting. Do you know where you are going?” “I’m a speaker to the Committee on Vulcan Intelligence,” said Darwin. “I’m sure Ensign Tepiksel can show me where to go.” “So, they gave you a watchdog. In this case all you need do is follow me. I’m also presenting to the Committee.” “After you then, Commander,” said Darwin. Shran didn’t say another word but moved through the milling crowd towards their conference room, Darwin following a few steps behind. He was aware that Shran had probably read an intelligence report on him, and vice versa, but it was intriguing to meet him in the flesh. Here was an Andorian who had put aside his prejudices to work with humans several times in the past. If Shran could do it then it was likely that others could as well, and perhaps he could be instrumental in that. Yes, his decision to take up this post on Andoria was looking more and more like it had been the right one. Darwin’s limited Andorian vocabulary hadn’t picked up that all the television screens positioned around the room were covering one single news story, an outbreak of a worrying disease that seemed to be spreading through many of Andoria’s cities. **** Reed tracked down Trip in Main Engineering. Although this was normally where Trip could be found, today Reed had assumed that he’d be getting ready to leave on his mission. Instead Trip was going over the latest efficiency figures with Hess to see if there was any way that they could squeeze another point two of a warp factor out of the engine. They both stood at the warp reactor controls looking deep in thought. “I still reckon that if we just tighten up the dilithium matrix adjusters that’ll give us another…” Trip pressed buttons on the padd he was holding. “Zero point zero four.” “It’s a lot of work for less than half point one of a factor,” said Hess. “Yeah, but if you can keep the field variance down to twenty milli-cochranes that should give us another point zero five.” Hess shook her head. “It can’t be done.” Trip handed Hess his padd. “It’ll take a bit of work but I think we can do it. I’ve run the simulations and they all come out positive.” “They don’t have to work with a real engine,” said Hess, as she took the padd. “Come on, Anna, I know you love a challenge,” said Trip, with a grin. “You’re not going to be around to take the flack when it doesn’t work, and we end up running to Andoria on impulse.” Trip gave a short laugh. “You’ll do just fine without me. Now, I want all of these upgrades done by the time I get back.” “Yes, sir,” replied Hess. “After all, I’ve got two months to put the engine back together again after we break it.” “Don’t even joke, Lieutenant.” “We’ll take good care of her, sir.” Hess descended the steps, giving Reed a small smile as she passed him. “Commander, do you have a minute?” asked Reed. “Better make it quick, Malcolm.” Trip didn’t look up from what he was doing. Reed carried a small box with him, no bigger than the span of his hand. “I was thinking somewhere more private. I have something for you to add to your luggage.” That caught Trip’s attention. He glanced down at Reed with a slightly puzzled look before turning back to the controls and completing a few more key strokes to finish up what he was doing. He came down the steps two at a time. “My office okay?” Reed nodded and the two of them adjourned to the room at the back of engineering that Trip had turned into an office. Space in engineering was at a premium, so Trip’s office was small, just big enough for a desk and a couple of chairs. Trip closed the door behind them. “I know that we’re not supposed to know why you’re going, but it’s a fair bet that it’s related to Special Projects, which means that it’s not going to be a walk in the park,” said Reed. “I should have known I can’t keep anything from you,” said Trip. “I’m not going to be there to watch your back, so I thought you should have this.” Reed handed Trip the small box. “What is it?” asked Trip. “Something that I’m not supposed to have,” said Reed. Trip opened the box. Inside sat a phase pistol. It was smaller than the normal design and looked subtly different. Trip took it out and began to examine it. He held it in firing position, obviously testing the weight and balance. “Very nice, but I’ve already got a phase pistol and, yes, it is being packed along with everything else.” Reed was pleased to see that Trip’s paranoia was showing, usually it was buried deeply, along with his other MACO personality traits. If Trip was allowing himself to see the worst in situations then he could rest a little easier knowing that he was being careful. “This phase pistol is slightly different.” Reed pulled out his scanner. “Scan it.” Trip took the offered scanner and ran it over the phase pistol. His face registered first surprise and then fascination. “It’s like it’s not there.” “Exactly. This is the forefront of covert weapons technology. It also has another feature.” Reed took the phase pistol from Trip’s hands and with two swift motions the phase pistol lay in four pieces on the table. Reed reassembled the pieces into another new shape and now the phase pistol was a very good facsimile of a scanner. “You can smuggle it through security and into places that don’t allow weapons.” “What are you doing with one of these, Malcolm?” asked Trip. “You’re not the only one with connections. Mine happen to be in the Armoury R and D department.” “It’s a prototype?” Reed nodded. “Yes, the only one of its kind ever made, as far as I know. Starfleet decided that a weapon of this type was not the kind of thing that we wanted to be seen developing. It was given to me by my previous Commanding Officer before I shipped out on Enterprise.” “A little piece of Starfleet Armoury history. I can’t take this from you, Malcolm.” Trip placed the phase pistol in the box and pushed it back across the desk towards Reed. “Consider it a loan then. You can give it back to me when you return. I think you have rather more use for it than I do at the moment.” Trip appeared to think about it for a moment before coming to a decision. “Show me how it goes together.” Reed smiled. “I knew you’d see things my way.” He also knew that he couldn’t be there to keep Trip safe this time, but he could at least make sure that he had every possible advantage available to him. **** Trip was packing the final few things when the com sounded to let him know that his ride had arrived. He had watched the unmarked cargo ship, the ECS Vector, approach Enterprise and make its final docking manoeuvres as he packed. He wondered idly what the bridge crew had made of a cargo ship arriving to collect their Chief Engineer. He was certain that everyone would have been expecting another Starfleet vessel, but this was covert ops and they wouldn’t want to advertise who they were. He zipped his bag closed, took one last look around his quarters and made his way down to the airlock. He was going to miss Enterprise, even for the short period of time he was planning to be away, no doubt about it. He was slightly surprised to find both Archer and T’Pol waiting for him, presumably to say goodbye. Although perhaps it was to make sure that he really was leaving them. A brief pang of insecurity made him wonder if they were actually glad to be getting rid of their troublesome Chief Engineer. Lately he’d been causing more than his fair share of difficulties. He pushed the feeling back down and reminded himself that these were his friends, these were people that he trusted. If he’d had any doubt about that, the gift from Reed that now nestled securely in the bottom of his backpack was enough to dispel it. “Captain, Commander, I didn’t think I was going to be escorted off the premises.” Trip smiled. The only way he was going to get through this was to keep things light. “We couldn’t let you go without saying goodbye,” said Archer. “The place won’t be the same without you for the next couple of months.” “Indeed, I believe Engineering will function considerably less efficiently.” T’Pol was holding a padd which she now held out to Trip. “I have compiled a set of instructions on Vulcan Neuropressure that I hope will enable you to continue practising the various positions that I have shown you.” Trip could see Archer’s barely contained smirk at “various positions” out of the corner of his eye as he accepted the padd. “Thanks T’Pol. I promise I won’t forget what you’ve been teaching me.” “I shall review your progress upon your return,” said T’Pol. “I’ll look forward to that.” Trip grinned. “I want you back in one piece this time,” said Archer. “I’ll do my best.” He could tell that the Captain was worried about him, and he felt a bit of a fraud for not letting him know exactly what the nature of his mission was. How much trouble could he get into teaching a bunch of aliens how to build a warp drive? He didn’t agree with what he’d been asked to do but it didn’t sound as if it was going to be particularly dangerous. “I know you think that you’re a kick ass MACO, but you’re not.” “Do you want to test that statement?” “I think I’ll just ask Malcolm for your last hand to hand combat scores. What I mean is, you’re not superman and you’re on your own on this one. You don’t have the rest of Special Projects to back you up…” Trip stopped him. “I’ll be fine, Captain. Really.” Archer nodded, resignedly. “Promise me that if you get into trouble, you’ll contact Enterprise. We’ll be there as soon as we can.” “If I need you, I’ll be in touch. You have my word.” Trip pressed the button to open the airlock and stepped through. “Take care, Trip,” said Archer. “Yes, sir. I’ll be back before you know it.” He paused for a moment, allowing his smile to say goodbye for him and then closed the door behind him. He made his way to the interlock with the transport ship and pressed the sequence of buttons that would open the outer hatch. He felt a slight difference in pressure as the other ship’s atmosphere entered the airlock. He stepped through and onto metal that was no longer part of Enterprise. He took a deep breath and closed Enterprise’s hatch behind him, knowing that it would be a while before he stepped through this door again. He was leaving one world and entering another, darker one with just a few steps. He shook off the feeling of melancholy that assailed him and moved through the next set of doors to find himself on board the Vector. The ship’s Captain and an ensign were standing ready to meet him. “Commander Tucker reporting as ordered, sir. Permission to come aboard.” “At ease Commander,” said the Starfleet Captain. Trip thought that he recognised him but he couldn’t remember from where. “I’m Captain Evarra.” The man in front of him had dark hair and a Hispanic cast to his features. “It’s good to meet you, sir,” said Trip, holding out a hand to be shaken. The hand was ignored and the name hadn’t helped him to be able to place the man. “Ensign Gilmour will take you to your assigned quarters. It’s about a four day journey to Coriolis. I hope you’ve brought some other clothes with you because we don’t usually wear uniforms on this ship.” He indicated his own uniform. “This is just for your benefit. You’ll find the same thing on base. There are regular Klingon patrols in the area around Coriolis.” “I guessed as much.” Trip could see that this ship was supposed to be just another cargo vessel going about its business. If the Klingons ever stopped them then they were just another crew of Earth civilians. “I was told you’d have some data for me so that I can get up to speed on the Coriolis situation before we arrive.” Evarra handed Trip a padd. “It should all be down there. ECS Vector is the regular taxi service. We also bring in any equipment and materials that the base needs. If there’s anything else you need to know then Ensign Gilmour should be able to answer your questions.” Trip nodded. “I’ll do my best not to get under your feet while I’m on board.” “Glad to hear it. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get back to the bridge and get us underway.” “If you’ll follow me, sir,” said Ensign Gilmour. Trip watched Captain Evarra walk away, his brain working furiously to try to remember where he knew him from. He still couldn’t think in what circumstances he might have met him before. “Sir?” asked Gilmour, a few steps down the corridor. “Yes, Ensign, I’m coming.” The quarters he’d been assigned for the next four days were at least as spacious as the ones he’d just left on Enterprise, although considerably less plush. They looked well worn and he was definitely not the first person to use them, but they seemed clean and were scrupulously tidy. He deposited his bags on the floor, sat down at the desk and started to scroll down the padd that Captain Evarra had given him. “Dinner is at nineteen hundred hours, sir,” said Ensign Gilmour. “It’s a small crew so we usually eat together. I’ll come by and collect you to take you to the mess. If you need anything else then just com me and I’ll do my best to help.” “Thanks Ensign. I’m sure I’ll be fine for a while on my own. I’ve got a lot of reading to do before we reach Coriolis.” “Yes, sir. Of course. I’ll let you get on.” Trip didn’t hear the Ensign leave, he was already engrossed in what he was reading. He felt through the floor the hum of the engines picking up and looked up to see that both ships were now moving away from each other. Enterprise got smaller as their impulse engines took them out to a safe distance to make use of their warp drive and then, suddenly, the warp engines engaged throwing them into the distance so that only a pinpoint of light was visible. Then Vector’s own warp drive engaged a few seconds later and the stars began to move slowly past. He really was on his own now. Trip turned back to the padd he had been reading. Coriolis was a planet on the border between “friendly” space and Klingon space. The inhabitants were pre-warp in their development, which strictly meant that humans should be having nothing to do with them, but this was Special Projects and he’d lost count of the number of times they’d broken that particular rule of contact. The Coriolans had made manned flights to planets within their system and were well on the way to developing warp drive, but so far hadn’t quite made the required advancements. Trip’s job was to teach them enough warp theory that they could build a working warp drive and eventually help with building it. It was a lot to do in two months and he was beginning to think Colonel Andros had been a bit optimistic in her time estimate. The Coriolans had a complex culture in which honour and intelligence were very import to social standing. The information he had been given detailed their language, dress code, government and many other aspects of their culture, but it wasn’t expected that he would ever be leaving the MACO base so he wasn’t required to have extensive knowledge of these things. The Coriolans who visited the base were all well versed in human customs and language. It seemed that, as a species, they had a talent for picking up new languages. Trip would have liked to see what happened when he got one of them together with Hoshi. He’d also been provided with pictures of his future pupils. They seemed very human looking, with only minor differences to their features, in particular their noses were larger and more angular. Their skin was a dark, burnished copper colour and hair colour varied from a honey blond to bright, flame red. None of which told him why it was deemed necessary or “expedient” for them to have warp drive. Their proximity to Klingon space no doubt had something to do with it, but how giving one small planet warp drive capability could help Earth, he had no idea. Although relations with the Klingons weren’t exactly good, so far neither side had declared war. If Quo’nos found out what the humans were doing that actually made a war more likely, and Earth wasn’t strong enough to go up against the Klingons. It seemed like they were playing a very dangerous game here. Trip had always understood the need for Special Projects, although even in his naïve younger days he hadn’t always supported what they had done. He could normally understand why they had been ordered to do what they did. They were a surgical strike team, designed to destroy threats to Earth before they actually became threats to Earth. Prior to Enterprise being launched, deflecting trouble before it got anywhere near Earth had been an important task as there was no way to meet that trouble head on. The Vulcans were next to useless on that front and very close mouthed about what lay in store for them out in the galaxy. So assassinating the odd alien dignitary who was about to suggest attacking Earth, before he could suggest it, seemed like a very good idea. Some missions had been less obviously worthwhile but they had all had some purpose to help protect Earth. Trip wouldn’t have done what he had otherwise. What he’d been asked to do here wasn’t exactly the usual Special Projects fare. He went over the list of technology that the Coriolans currently possessed, and then looked at the schematics of the engines that they were developing. He’d need to know them in detail if he expected to be able to teach these people. Not only that, he’d need to know enough of their mathematical notation to be able to explain warp theory. He was used to getting by in alien languages and learning another set of engineering terms for something wouldn’t be that difficult. He’d already done it with Andorian and still remembered the surprise of his counterpart on the Kumari when he came out with the little Andorian that he knew. They had been in the Delphic Expanse at the time and the Universal Translator just wasn’t doing what it needed to. “buud vaab ngikh,” said one of the Andorians, almost under his breath, knowing that the translator wouldn’t pick it up. The repairs had been stumbling along because neither side could understand all the technical terms and it was meaning that everything took twice as long. The Andorian Engineer had just told him that “forcing the engine is futile”, in other words it wouldn’t do something that it wasn’t designed for. Trip had known that speaking Andorian could give his past away and at that point no one had been aware of his Special Projects background. It was imperative that the Andorians never found out what had happened to the Thak Tikh. At this point Trip had to choose between Special Projects and their mission to save Earth and saving Earth would always win on that score. “Phuuk buudad vaab takh,” he had replied and the Andorian looked at him. “Tell your engineers that we won’t be forcing anything,” was the rough English translation. “You know Andorian,” he said. Tucker shook his head. “No. Just the odd engineering term.” It was a little more than the odd Engineering term but he doubted the Andorian would call him on that. He then continued in Andorian. “Tiikh raap moop.” That was sort of “We need to get the warp core ready.” The Andorian agreed with him and they exchanged further conversation in a mixture of English and Andorian. He had been Chief (in fact only) Engineer on an Andorian light cruiser for three years and had read enough technical manuals to be able to pick up some Engineering speak. In fact he’d spent so much time immersed in those manuals that he had eventually begun to think of the engine’s function in Andorian words. At that point there was no English word for “intermix ratio” so he called it “ik-naah” in his head and that was just one example of many. He had unconsciously also picked up Andorian grammar and basic language attributes as well while he was doing this, but it wasn’t until he met Andorians again that he realised this had happened. Total immersion in a foreign language had a way of doing things like that. Unfortunately Trip caught Hoshi watching him and had to step back the standard of his Andorian considerably to the odd word here and there until she left. If anyone on Enterprise would know that he was more fluent than he should be then it would be their com Officer and resident linguist. Once again he’d almost forgotten what being part of Special Projects meant and he’d reminded himself that he couldn’t let it happen again. He had spent the next few weeks avoiding Hoshi in case she decided to raise the subject and question him on it. It had taken Colonel Darwin arriving on Enterprise for him to ever let that part of himself be seen again. Now, not only did Captain Archer know about his past, but also T’Pol, Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Mayweather and Ensign Sato. It wasn’t exactly what he had wished but he’d never really had a choice in the matter. Trip sighed. Life as a Special Projects MACO had never been dull, but he still regretted that he had ever become part of the unit. On impulse he dug into his bag and pulled out the patch that he’d stuffed in there at the last moment. It was a uniform, mission patch for a MACO. This one was very unusual. There had only ever been ten made and this one was doubly unique as it still had the blue thread of a Starfleet uniform visible around its edges rather than MACO camouflage. This was his Special Projects mission patch. A white mosquito was shown inside the red triangle, with the words Special Projects etched below it. This was their emblem of what their mission was, to draw blood from their enemies and be a gad fly to anyone who intended harm to Earth. The white mosquito was stark against the black background and Trip wished that their missions had been as black and white as the patch. Instead they had always moved in the grey areas, knowing that what they were doing wasn’t exactly legal. He shoved the patch back down to the bottom of the bag, still not quite sure why he’d brought it with him. Perhaps he needed to remember that Special Projects hadn’t been an adventure and that his current mission was as dangerous as any that he had ever been on. Perhaps he needed to be grounded in the reality of what they had done to keep Earth safe and remember that, whatever they had done, this new incarnation of Special Projects was worse. Or perhaps he just wanted that connection to his past to remind him that he really was a “kick ass MACO” when he needed to be. He pulled out some civilian clothes and stripped off his uniform. He wasn’t going to be wearing it for the next few weeks, so he folded it carefully and placed back in the bag. The civilian clothes always felt strange these days, he was so used to wearing his uniform. He pulled on a pair of well worn jeans and his favourite red top. It gave him a little bit of comfort from home in this unfamiliar place. He was used to being posted to different places but for some reason this ship made him feel more alone and homesick than he’d felt in a long time. His best bet was to concentrate on his work and that would occupy his mind. The information he had read was going round his head and he filed the useful bits for later use. He sat back down at the desk and began to make notes on what he would need to teach his new pupils. There was a knock at the door and Trip glanced at the time. He’d been completely engrossed in his reading and hadn’t realised that dinner time had arrived. He turned off the padd that he had been working on and let Ensign Gilmour in so that she could escort him to dinner. **** Ensign Gilmour was nervous in his presence and he wasn’t quite sure why. She tripped over her words as she spoke, giving him the menu for that evening’s meal and, as soon as they reached the mess, she retreated to her place at the other end of the table. The rest of the crew seemed more at ease with their new passenger. Captain Evarra presided over the meal as if he was the patriarch of a large family. They had waited for him to arrive before the stewards began to serve the meal and the first course was only cleared away when he gave them the signal. “Captain, have we met before?” asked Trip. “I don’t think so,” said Evarra. “You just look kind of familiar,” said Trip. “Perhaps you saw me at Starfleet Command in San Francisco. I was stationed there for a while a couple of years ago.” “Maybe. I guess I could have seen you around.” Somehow Trip didn’t think that was it though. Evarra didn’t strike him as the type who would be part of the Starfleet Admin Corps which made him wonder why he had been posted to San Francisco. “How long have you been Captain of the ECS Vector?” “Just over a year. Ever since the MACO base was established on Coriolis.” “How did you end up with this posting?” “Colonel Andros called in a favour,” said Evarra. “You too, huh?” asked Trip, as he tucked into the food that had appeared in front of him. “She sure gets around.” A shudder ran through the deck beneath their feet. Trip looked up. “That didn’t feel right.” One of the engineers further down the table was already excusing himself as another shudder ran through the ship. The com sounded and Evarra went to answer it. “Captain we’re having some problems with the warp engine. We need to drop out of warp.” “What’s wrong?” asked Evarra. “We’re not sure, sir. It appears to be an injector problem but we won’t know until we can shut the engine down.” “Do it,” said Evarra. “Lieutenant Edwards is on his way down to you.” Trip caught his eye. “Could you use some help?” Evarra nodded. “If you’re willing, Commander.” Trip followed Lieutenant Edwards to Main Engineering. The area was considerably more cramped than on Enterprise and the engine itself was correspondingly smaller. That was to be expected since these cargo ships only made warp three on a good day, a far cry from Enterprise’s warp five and maybe a touch extra now Trip had it tuned to perfection. Despite his current rather different experience, he knew this engine design quite well, at least partly because it was based on a Starfleet engine that he’d helped to develop. That was an indication of how old this model was and, as it turned out, this particular warp reactor was showing its age. The two officers arrived in time to see the small engineering staff taking the ship out of warp and back to impulse. “Who’s in charge?” asked Trip, unable to tell who was the ranking officer because everyone was in civilian clothes. Almost everyone was wearing some sort of overall but no two pairs were quite the same. “I am,” said a harassed looking, slightly built, Asian woman. “Lieutenant Commander Ohta. No need to introduce yourself, your reputation proceeds you. With respect, Commander, the last thing I need right now is someone looking over my shoulder.” “I’m not here to tell you what to do, Commander, but if you need another pair of hands then just point me at something that needs fixing. The sooner we get to Coriolis the sooner I get to complete my mission and go home.” Ohta gave him a slightly crooked smile. “I guess you’re qualified. We’ve got at least one injector down. The problem with these old mark two engines is that if one injector goes it usually takes the others with it. To make things more interesting we’re running low on spares so we can’t do a straight hot swap.” Ohta took him over to where one of the suspect injectors laid in pieces. “I’ve got everyone working on checking over the injectors so we can find the ones that are down.” “Have you got a scanner and some tools that I can borrow?” asked Trip, already eyeing up the injector. Ohta dispatched another crew member to get what Trip needed, he had brought his own tools in his luggage but they were still in his quarters, and it would have wasted time to go and get them. “Can you manage this one on your own? We’re flat out on the other three.” “No problem, Commander. It’ll be just like back on the Warp Five project,” said Trip, receiving the tools and scanner. “I’ll leave you to it then.” Trip nodded and began to remove the casing from part of the injector assembly so that he could check for micro fractures. It took him the best part of an hour to find the problem and then another two hours to cannibalise another broken injector to get the parts he needed to fix the first one. Ohta sent an ensign over to help him out and that made things move a bit faster. He suspected that this injector was the one that had begun all their problems. He finished up dirty and tired, but the injector was back together and ready to be refitted. Ohta looked approvingly at their work. “I think we can take it from here if you want to get some rest, Commander.” Trip yawned tiredly. “I may just do that. You know, I could have a look at the injector management subroutines and see if I can work something out to stop them going into cascade failure.” “That would be a big help. We can’t keep losing injectors at this rate. They just don’t make the parts for the mark two anymore and we can’t fabricate everything ourselves.” “I’ll come back after I’ve got some shut eye and see what I can do. I might be able to tighten up some of your other systems as well. I’ve been trying out a few things on Enterprise that I think could make this engine run a hell of a lot more smoothly.” “I’m willing to try anything if you think it’ll make a difference,” replied Ohta. “It’s a date then. So much for staying out of the engine room for a few days.” “Well look at it from my point of view. I’ve only got you until we reach Coriolis and I might as well make the most of having the Chief Engineer of the flag ship of the fleet on board. I bet Enterprise’s engine is missing you like hell.” Trip smiled to hide the sudden pang of homesickness that he felt. He’d been on Enterprise for three years and, as far as he was concerned, it was home. “Not as much as I’m missing her.” ****End of Chapter Two**** Enterprise arrived at Andoria a little earlier than they had originally projected. Lieutenant Hess had been able to implement the enhancements that Trip had been working on before he left, so had been able to push the engine harder than they had anticipated. Archer was thankful for this, but a little sorry that Trip wasn’t around to see his handiwork come to fruition. An early arrival was particularly important on their current mission since it looked as if the Andorian disease outbreak was getting worse and more victims were arriving at the hospitals daily. Although Hess was managing Engineering almost as efficiently as Trip would have done, Archer still didn’t think the ship felt right without his Chief Engineer on board. It had only been a week and he was definitely feeling the lack of Trip’s presence. He hadn’t realised just how often Trip would pop by his Ready Room or quarters just to say hi or let him know how things were going. In a bizarre way all this Special Projects stuff had actually strengthened his friendship with Trip. He’d learnt that, although Trip might not always go about things in the correct or conventional manner, he always put his friends first. Often he put his friends’ safety before his own welfare, and while self sacrifice was a noble trait, it was one that Archer hoped to soften in Trip. After their last run in with Trip’s MACO past, he’d lectured his friend on the dangers of going it alone. Unfortunately on this occasion their hands had been forced. Trip couldn’t disobey the order and there was no way he could go with him, not with an Andorian epidemic threatening. At least when Trip had left before he’d had the remaining members of the Special Projects team with him. Trip really was on his own this time and there was nothing that Archer could do about it. Archer stepped onto the bridge apprehensively. Phlox emerged from the turbo lift a few moments later. The view screen showed the icy planet of Andoria below them. Strictly speaking Andoria wasn’t a planet at all, it was actually a moon of one of the star system’s gas giants. The gas giant had rings like Saturn’s back home in the Sol system and about twenty moons, of which Andoria was the largest. “Hoshi, open a channel to the surface,” said Archer. “Yes, sir,” said Hoshi. She spoke fluent, rapid Andorian for a few moments. “They’ve provided us with co-ordinates for the shuttlepod to land at, and I have Chirurgeon General Theles waiting to speak to you.” “Put her on screen.” The distinguished blue face of the Andorian Chirurgeon appeared on the screen, white hair falling in waves down the sides of her face. “Captain Archer, welcome to Andoria. I’m sorry that you aren’t visiting us for a happier reason.” “We’re just glad that we can help, ma’am. Doctor Phlox is anxious to get started.” “I have the doctors who have been working on the problem waiting to brief him. We have yet to identify patient zero. This disease already has a hold in ten of our major cities, and many people are dead. We’ve have never seen anything like it and they don’t even know where to start in developing a treatment. We desperately need to stop this spreading further.” “We’ll do everything that we can, Chirurgeon.” “Thank you, Captain. I shall see you once you’re on the surface. Theles out.” “Malcolm, you have the bridge,” said Archer. Lieutenant Reed acknowledged the order and moved to Archer’s seat as he vacated it. “Phlox, T’Pol, get your gear together and meet me at the launch bay. Hoshi, let Captain Kanatova know to meet us there too.” “Yes, sir,” said Hoshi. “Are you sure that you don’t need a translator? I’d love to get some more practice with my Andorian.” “I think the UT will manage just fine on this one, Hoshi, and the less people we have on the surface the better this time. We don’t know enough about this disease yet.” Archer noted that Reed allowed himself a small sigh. He had already voiced his concerns to Archer about both he and T’Pol going down to the surface, especially with Trip away, but nothing could dissuade them. The situation on Andoria was serious and merited his personal attention, however he also wanted to get in touch with a certain retired MACO Colonel. Reed hadn’t been able to come up with anything on where Trip had been sent and Archer didn’t like being kept in the dark. Colonel Darwin was his last hope for getting the information that he needed. The coordinates that they had been sent were to a landing pad in Kantev, the largest of the Andorian cities and the seat of their government. Archer piloted the shuttlepod down to the snow covered surface. They all donned their cold weather gear and made their way to the entrance to the city, where a welcoming committee were waiting for them. The assembled party of Andorians consisted of Chirurgeon General Theles and several other doctors who were working on the disease. They were business-like in their greeting of the Enterprise crew, but did seem glad to see them. Archer hadn’t expected anything more, all of the Andorians that he had met so far were somewhat guarded when meeting new people. They had been assigned an Andorian guide, or possibly a guard. In fact, as she had been introduced as Lieutenant Marev, it was most likely the latter. She was definitely a member of the Imperial Guard, even if she didn’t wear the uniform. The Andorian Imperial Guard was not only a military organisation but was also responsible for civilian law and order. Marev was probably their equivalent of a plain clothes policeman. She didn’t seem to be any more, or less, friendly than the other Andorians, although she did give T’Pol a rather longer inspection than the rest of their party. Bringing a Vulcan to Andoria had been a risk, given the continued enmity between the two peoples, but T’Pol was needed here and Archer refused to let old feuds dictate who he brought on an away mission. They immediately made their way to the research labs, where Phlox, Kanatova and T’Pol would be working alongside the Andorian scientists. Phlox had been talking nineteen to the dozen to Theles while T’Pol listened with quiet interest, injecting questions at appropriate moments or whenever Phlox would let her get a word in edgewise. Kanatova meanwhile seemed to have found her opposite number in the Imperial Guard Medical Corps and was exchanging not only medical information but also war stories. The bits that Archer overheard were quite gory in their medical detail and he wished that he hadn’t heard. The labs, when compared to the other buildings around them, were housed in a relatively small, unassuming building. Within it the research areas were busy, but well organised laboratories with pristine white surfaces. Archer counted about twenty Andorians working at various tasks, many with test tubes and microscopes. “What is the most recent information on the number of cases?” asked T’Pol. “Our latest figures indicate about two thousand cases across Andoria,” said Theles. “I have updated figures prepared for you. I gather that you will be concentrating on locating the source of the infection.” T’Pol nodded and accepted the Andorian equivalent of a data padd. “Yes, Captain Archer and I are hoping that we can find patient zero.” “Did the disease originate in any one location?” asked Phlox. “Not as far as we are able to tell, although it must have come from somewhere. Cases appeared almost simultaneously in several of our major cities, although the majority were in Kantev itself.” “Do you know what kind of disease we’re dealing with yet?” asked Archer. “It is definitely a virus but one unlike any other that we have seen,” said Theles. “At the moment we’ve been lucky. It appears to be spread only by contact. If it was airborne then we’d be looking at a much more serious outbreak. I’ll update you with our latest research, Doctor Phlox.” “How many fatalities have there been so far?” Phlox asked. “As of this morning, two hundred and twenty three. The disease seems to take about fourteen days to run its course and eventually kill its victim. It hits young and old alike, but the most worrying thing is that we don’t seem to have come across any patients with natural immunity. So far no one has contracted this disease and survived. I suspect the only reason that we haven’t seen more fatalities is because they were infected slightly later. It’s been nearly three months since we saw the first cases and more are arriving in our hospitals every day. We’ve already discontinued air travel between cities but we don’t want to have to impose a complete quarantine yet, although it may come to that soon.” Phlox nodded worriedly. “Have you seen anything similar in your domestic animal population?” Theles shook her head. “Nothing close. This disease is frightening in its quickness. Patients deteriorate rapidly and all we can do so far is try to alleviate the symptoms.” Everyone looked solemn for a moment. Then the moment was gone and T’Pol began discussing hard science with Theles again. Archer didn’t understand the details of virology that they were discussing so decided that it was time to go on a short errand of his own. “I’ll leave you to it,” said Archer. “I have someone I need to see.” “On Andoria?” asked Lieutenant Marev, slightly surprised. “Yes, another human, perhaps you can help me find him?” “Where is he?” “He’s an advisor to the Imperial Guard. I don’t know where he’s based.” “You may be in luck, there’s a large military conference taking place in Kantev. Your friend could well be there.” “I didn’t say that he was a friend.” Marev looked a little strangely at him, her antennae standing up straight, inquisitively. “If you’ll come with me, then I’ll make some enquiries. What’s his name?” “Colonel Robert Darwin.” Kanatova’s head jerked up at the mention of the name. She directed an interested look in Archer’s direction but said nothing. Archer followed Marev out to the reception area of the research facility where the Andorian made a number of calls. Eventually she finished and turned back to Archer. “I was right, he’s at the conference. I have arranged transport for us.” “I’d prefer to go alone.” Marev put her head on one side. “My orders are to stay with you and, in particular, I can’t let you go to this building alone.” Archer reluctantly nodded. “Fine, then let’s go.” Marev led Archer out of the research complex and to a small hover vehicle with a pilot. They were taken across the city to a large imposing building where the conference was apparently being held. Archer recognised the insignia on the building to be that of the Imperial Guard, which meant that this was probably their headquarters and explained Marev’s reluctance to let him come here alone. It looked like they were expected because an Andorian official of some sort was waiting to escort them inside. Darwin stood, wearing casual but smart clothes, in the building’s foyer, looking out of a large picture window at the city that stretched around the walls of the vast cavern that they were in. Next to him stood a tall Andorian male in Imperial Guard uniform who was obviously watching him. Darwin saw them arrive and came over to meet them. “Captain Archer, you’re the last person that I expected to see.” “I was in the area.” Darwin offered his hand and the two men grudgingly shook, more for the benefit of their two Andorian companions than for any other reason. “This is my watchdog, Ensign Tepiksel,” said Darwin. “And this is mine, Lieutenant Marev.” “A Lieutenant? I only merited an Ensign, and yours is better looking. I guess the Andorians must consider you quite important.” Archer took a small, perverse pleasure in his guard outranking Darwin’s. “I expect it has more to do with Enterprise’s official business. Lieutenant Marev, perhaps you and Ensign Tepiksel could wait on the other side of the room while I talk to the Colonel.” “Retired Colonel,” interject Darwin. Marev thought about it for a few seconds, long enough to make Archer think that she wasn’t going to oblige him. “Very well.” She inclined her head and the two Andorians made their way to the other side of the foyer. “Well, I know that this isn’t a social call. What’s the problem? I would have thought that Trip would have called to let me know that he was in the area. Andoria has a pretty good night life and I wouldn’t mind having a friend to share it with, if you’ll unchain him from that engine of his for a few hours, of course.” Archer looked worried, almost guilty, at the mention of Trip’s name and he could see that Darwin had now picked up on this. “I don’t like you, I’ve never made a secret of that and I don’t understand how Trip doesn’t see you for what you are, but I need your help. I was hoping that you could give me some information, but from your last comment you don’t know what’s been going on either.” Archer paused trying to decide how best to explain what had happened to Darwin. “Just over a week ago Trip got orders from the current head of MACO Intelligence that he was being temporarily reassigned.” Darwin stiffened. “Where to?” “I don’t know.” “You thought that I had something to do with it?” Darwin shook his head. “My influence at MACO Intelligence ended when you demanded my court martial.” “I’ll admit that I did wonder. I was more hoping that you might know the why and where.” “What did Trip tell you?” “That Special Projects had been reinstated.” “That’s not possible. It was agreed after Faranor that Special Projects’ time was over. Who’s in charge of MACO Intelligence now?” “Colonel Andros.” “Daria?” Darwin chuckled. “What’s so funny?” asked Archer. “Do you know her?” “She’s my ex-wife,” said Darwin. “Very ex.” Archer groaned. “Well your ex-wife has stolen my Chief Engineer and sent him on God-knows-what damn-fool mission for a newly reinstated Special Projects unit. You and I both know what that mission might entail and just how dangerous it might be.” Darwin sobered. “I know. Why didn’t Trip just refuse to go? He’s not a MACO and she can’t reassign Starfleet personnel without the agreement of Starfleet Command.” “I don’t know how she got Starfleet Command to agree, but she threatened to have Trip posted back home.” Darwin shook his head. “She may have, but that wouldn’t be enough. Trip doesn’t care enough about what happens to himself. No, I bet she threatened to have you posted back home.” “Me?” “He knows how much having Enterprise means to you and anyone else can guess. It’s your father’s engine design after all. Daria obviously found out that you’re his friend. We both know that he’d never tell you that himself.” “You’re telling me that this is my fault?” “I’m just correcting a misconception.” Archer put a firm lid on his anger towards this man for the glib way he just placed blame on his shoulders. He was certain that Darwin was well aware of the psychological trick that he’d just played on Archer, and worse than that, Archer suspected that Darwin was right about Trip’s reason for going. “Can you help me find out where Trip was sent or not?” “I may have exaggerated when I said I had no influence at MACO Intelligence. I’ll see what I can find out. It may take a few days to get an answer though. Believe it or not, I’m just as worried about him as you are.” “I highly doubt that.” Archer could feel an argument building. They had never really had it out between them, apart from a few terse phrases that neither would consider to be enough of an accounting. However they didn’t get the chance this time either. “Captain Archer,” said a familiar voice. Archer looked past Darwin to see a well known blue face. He smiled. “Commander Shran. It’s good to see you.” Shran joined the two men, noting that they now glared at each other. “I see that I’m interrupting something.” He didn’t make any move to leave however. He glanced between the two humans, his eyes settling on Archer. “What brings you to Andoria, Captain?” “We brought Doctor Phlox to help with stopping the disease outbreak,” said Archer. Shran nodded his antennae drooping slightly. “Yes, I have heard that it is becoming serious.” “Disease outbreak?” asked Darwin. “You should watch the news pink skin,” said Shran. “My Andorian isn’t up to it yet,” replied Darwin. “What’s going on?” “About two thousand Andorians have been infected with a mystery disease. So far over two hundred are dead. The doctors have no idea where it came from, or what it is, and it takes less than two weeks to kill the victim.” Archer gave the information coldly. “Air travel has been suspended between all the major cities, although I’m sure the military are still flying so you wouldn’t know anything about that.” Darwin looked angrily at Archer for his final remark, but Shran’s antennae had pricked up. “I had no idea that the situation was so severe.” “I should get back to the research base. I’m helping T’Pol with the epidemiology. We’re trying to find patient zero. Hopefully it will give us an idea of how this thing got started.” “Yes, I think that I should get back as well,” said Darwin. “I’ll get in touch as soon as I hear anything about Trip.” Archer nodded. “I’m sure Lieutenant Marev will know where I am.” Darwin was already turning away and simply gave a wave of his hand in acknowledgement as he disappeared back into the main building, closely followed by Ensign Tepiksel. “An interesting man,” said Shran. “That’s one way to describe him,” replied Archer, signalling to Lieutenant Marev to come back and join them. “You don’t like him.” It was a statement rather than a question, in typical blunt, Andorian fashion. “No, I don’t, but the feeling is mutual.” “Interesting. Did he commit some crime against you and his punishment was being sent to Andoria?” “Not exactly. He came to Andoria willingly, but I was responsible for him leaving the MACOs.” “Obviously you two have quite a history. Does his leaving the MACOs have anything to do with Commander Tucker?” Archer didn’t say anything, Shran’s questions were getting too close for comfort. Not only that but Shran seemed to be enjoying making Archer squirm. “Colonel Darwin mentioned that he served with the Commander, and just now the Colonel said that he would contact you with information about him.” “It’s classified.” “Really. I think that’s the first time that I’ve ever heard you use that word.” “And hopefully it’s also the last.” Shran turned his head slightly as an announcement came over the public address system. Archer caught Shran’s name in the message as it was repeated. “I have to go, there’s an urgent call for me. I hope we can meet up again before Enterprise leaves. I’d like to show you some more of Andoria than the inside of a few buildings.” Archer smiled. “I’d like that.” “Good,” said Shran. “There’s a bottle of vintage Andorian ale in my quarters that I’ve been waiting for an excuse to open. I suppose your arrival will have to do.” Archer was about to answer but Lieutenant Marev had reached him and Shran was already on his way into the main building. **** Archer returned to the lab to find T’Pol getting ready to head out. “You are just in time to accompany me.” She picked up her, now packed, bag and slung it over her shoulder. “Where to?” asked Archer. “Have we got a lead on patient zero?” “I believe so,” said T’Pol. “I have gone over the timeline. The first patients to be admitted to hospital were in a small town called Sera. I have arranged for us to speak with the medical staff at the medical facility there.” Archer nodded. “Let’s go.” Marev stepped closer to them. “Sera is very isolated. It will take us most of a day to get there. Are you still sure you want to go there?” “If that’s where this outbreak started, yes, we do.” “I have a shuttle standing by for your use,” said Marev. At that moment Shran came barging into the room, a couple of laboratory security personnel following behind him in an attempt to stop him. They weren’t having much luck trying to halt the tenacious Andorian. Archer realised that Shran must have taken his urgent call and then almost immediately followed him to the research labs. He did not look at all pleased. “Archer!” shouted Shran. Archer went over to meet his friend and fend off the security guards. He didn’t fancy their chances against an annoyed Shran and the last thing he wanted was for anyone to get hurt. “I’m coming with you,” said Shran, without any sort of preamble. Archer waved the security guards off and Marev backed up his command with one of her own. “Don’t you need to be at the conference?” “I’ve already given my presentation to the relevant committee. The rest is just dull discussion.” Archer caught a small smirk from Marev at Shran’s sweeping pronouncement of the conference proceedings. Admittedly Archer had been to enough conferences in his time to understand what Shran meant. “Why the sudden change of plan?” Shran’s antennae drooped uncharacteristically and when he spoke his voice was rough and subdued. “My brother was taken ill a few hours ago.” “The virus?” Shran merely gave a curt, unhappy nod. Archer knew that meant Shran’s brother had less than fourteen days to live, give or take a few hours, depending on how strong he was before the virus infected him. He’d never seen Shran look so alone and despondent. “I’m sorry. We’re doing everything that we can to find a cure.” The moment didn’t last more than a few seconds. Shran visibly buried his emotions and straightened himself. “You’ll need an Andorian to show you around.” “I’m sure that Lieutenant Marev knows her way around,” said Archer. “I’m not sure that you should be helping. You have a personal involvement that could cloud your judgement. You should be with your brother.” “Sitting at his bedside won’t get him a cure for this disease. This isn’t a request, Archer. I am coming with you.” Archer looked at the determined man in front of him. He knew that Shran didn’t give up easily and certainly wouldn’t back down now without a fight. He couldn’t think of a good reason to deny that he come with them and perhaps what they needed here was someone who didn’t give up easily. “I suppose another person looking can’t hurt,” said Archer. “I’m not sure how T’Pol will feel about having you tagging along.” “I’m sure that the Vulcan will live. Unfortunately,” said Shran. “Fine, you can tag along, but if T’Pol asks then it was your idea.” Shran gave a non-committal grunt, as they walked back to where T’Pol was. “I take it that we are now ready to leave,” said T’Pol. “Shran’s coming with us.” T’Pol stiffened slightly. “That is not necessary. We already have an Andorian to accompany us.” Shran was about to answer, no doubt with some derogatory comment about Vulcans, but Archer beat him to it. “Shran’s brother is sick, T’Pol.” “I see.” This was one of T’Pol’s loaded phrases. In this case the tone was obviously that she did not approve but knew she was going to have to put up with things. “Very well. We are wasting time.” With that the small group departed. As predicted it took them several hours to reach Sera. The mood in the shuttle on the way there was subdued and very few words were spoken. When they were still half an hour from the town it became obvious that something was wrong. Marev tried to contact their air traffic control and instead received an automated response warning craft to stay away unless their business was urgent. The same message did provide safe landing coordinates if they still wanted to visit. It was certainly not a good sign that no one was there to greet them when they landed. When they entered the ice caves it was to find a small town that appeared almost deserted. They walked through empty corridors and when they did see someone, it was only to catch a glimpse of them as they were disappearing inside a building. Cold, blue light filtered through the windows, creating eerie shadows around the buildings. It was the closest thing to a ghost town that Archer had ever seen. Shran surveyed the deserted streets with a puzzled expression. “Where is everyone?” “Good question.” Archer turned to their Andorian guard. “Marev?” Marev just shrugged her shoulders, but he noticed that her hand was on the butt of her holstered phase pistol and her eyes were scanning the shadows. T’Pol had a look of concern on her face too. “I was not aware that there had been a change in the situation here. We should get to the hospital as soon as possible.” “I agree, but I think Shran and Marev should stay in the shuttle,” said Archer. “Just as a precaution.” “Are you suggesting that I’m a coward, Archer?” Shran looked decidedly unhappy. “I’m just pointing out that we know that this virus infects Andorians. If the infection isn’t contained in the hospital, as we’ve been led to believe, then you’re putting your lives in danger just by being here with us.” “It will be of no service to your brother if you also contract the virus.” T’Pol was being logical as always and Archer was glad of the back up. “You’re conveniently forgetting that viruses are capable of jumping between species,” said Shran. “But it hasn’t yet. It’s still only affecting Andorians.” Archer wished Shran would just see sense for once. “My orders were to stay with you, Captain,” said Marev. “I doubt my superiors would think the risk of infection worth my disobeying.” “If she’s going then so am I.” Shran’s features were set with determination. “Shran…” began Archer. “My planet, my rules,” said Shran. Marev said something in Andorian to Shran and he replied tersely in the same language. A few more curt phrases were exchanged before the two Andorians turned back to Archer. “What was that all about?” “We were discussing the Imperial Guard rank structure,” said Marev. “I see.” No doubt Marev had been pointing out that Lieutenants were more expendable than Commanders, and no doubt Shran had been pointing out that he outranked Marev. “We do not have time for this. The hospital is this way,” said T’Pol. Shran pushed past Archer, crossly, and led the way through the quiet streets. They walked for a little way before Shran spoke again. “I was in Sera last year visiting a friend. It was a busy town.” He sounded wistful, but also slightly disbelieving of what they had found. Archer couldn’t blame him, this discovery was very unexpected. The group arrived at the hospital to find large signs taped to the door. They were written in giant, red Andorian script. There were some signs of life inside but it was still unusually quiet. “What does it say?” asked Archer. “Quarantine.” Shran walked up to the doors, and was about to break the seal across them, when Archer stopped him. He looked disdainfully at the hand on his arm. “We don’t have time to waste, pink skin.” “If you enter this building then you have to stay there. I’m pretty sure that’s not what you want. That goes for you too, Lieutenant. I think your superiors might understand that you didn’t want to be stuck in Sera until we can find a cure for this.” T’Pol joined them. “Captain Archer and I can enter and leave a quarantined area as long as we follow proper decontamination procedures. I would also recommend following Doctor Phlox’s advice regarding precautionary measures.” Archer nodded. Phlox had recommended wearing paper overalls, masks and gloves if they had to enter an area where there were patients who had been diagnosed with the virus. Archer took Phlox’s recommendations very seriously. Shran moved away from the door and sat down, disconsolately, on a nearby wall. “So we sit here doing nothing while you investigate?” “That or go back to the shuttle,” said Archer. “Your choice.” Shran folded his arms across his chest. “I’ll wait here.” “I suppose I’ll stay here too,” said Marev. “Okay, but check in every half hour.” He received a nod from Marev and a glare from Shran, which he took to mean that his order would be obeyed. Technically he supposed that he outranked Shran, but he doubted that the Andorian would ever acknowledge that. He turned his attention away from the stubborn Andorian to what lay inside the building in front of them. He and T’Pol donned the necessary protective clothing and entered the building. The hospital in Sera was not big because the town it catered to was small, but it still consisted of a large number of corridors and treatment rooms. There was no one at the reception desk so they followed the signs to the emergency section of the hospital, hoping to find someone there that would be able to tell them what was going on. Everywhere Archer and T’Pol looked, as they moved through the halls, there were dead bodies, covered with sheets to protect their dignity. Archer lost count of the number of corpses that they passed after a while. Finally they reached the emergency department and found patients being treated by doctors. Beds were squeezed into every available space, and it was obvious that the people in them were very ill. Everyone was busy and it took them a moment to find someone who could tell them who was in charge. A nurse directed them towards a harassed-looking doctor who stood in the corner of the room, directing those around him. T’Pol approached him. “I’m Commander T’Pol. This is Captain Archer. We’ve come from Kantev as part of an effort to contain the viral outbreak.” “Are you doctors? Are there any more of you? Have you come to help us?” “No, we are alone, and we are not doctors. I spoke to Senior Doctor Talad yesterday about collecting data and locating patient zero.” Archer marvelled at how calm T’Pol was in the face of this desperate, young Andorian doctor. “I’m Junior Doctor Remet. Whoever you spoke to is probably sick now,” said the doctor. “Or dead. What would you like to know, Commander.” “What happened here?” asked Archer. “We were one of the early places to report cases of the virus. We didn’t realise how contagious it was to begin with, but we were doing a good job of containing it. We must have missed someone in the last couple of days because suddenly the number of cases doubled, then quadrupled. Before long we couldn’t deal with all the cases we had, which was when we locked down the hospital and quarantined the whole thing. It all happened so quickly. Most of the town is either dead or infected.” “That explains why it’s so quiet in town.” Archer looked around and mentally counted up how many dead or dying were in the room. “We told anyone else who got sick to stay in their house and lock all the doors. We don’t have enough doctors to treat everyone already here, let alone any new cases. If anyone catches this virus then there’s nothing that I can do apart from prescribe painkillers, until they run out and then I won’t be able to do a thing. I expect it won’t be long before I get it too, if I haven’t got it already. I don’t know why you bothered to come. What good can one Vulcan and a human do here? You’re not even doctors, and I don’t have time to talk about what’s happening here.” T’Pol nodded patiently. “I understand that your resources are stretched to their limit. All I’m asking for is access to your records.” Archer’s natural instinct was to help, but he belatedly realised what T’Pol obviously had the moment that they had walked into this hospital, there was nothing that they could do. The virus had too much of a hold here and anything that they did would be a mere drop in the ocean, a waste of time. Even if they had an anti-viral ready now, they wouldn’t be able to get it here quickly enough to do any good for the majority of cases. A nurse came over to them to ask the doctor a question. Remet pointed at a computer terminal on a desk on the other side of the room. “Over there. I hope it helps to stop this from happening somewhere else.” “Thank you,” said T’Pol, she was already heading towards the terminal before Archer could also express his thanks to the doctor. T’Pol sat down at the terminal and began accessing information. “How’s your Andorian?” asked Archer, looking over her shoulder. As far as he was concerned, she was looking at screens full of gibberish. “I am fluent in both written and spoken Andorian.” T’Pol didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “Really. Why would a Vulcan need to speak Andorian?” “It is good to know one’s enemy. A language can indicate many things about a people.” “What about this database? Is that indicating anything about the outbreak?” T’Pol took out a data chip. “A great deal, but I do not think we should remain here longer that we need to. I will download the information and we can take it back to the lab.” “Agreed.” Archer’s communicator beeped at him. It was Shran checking in. “Archer, you’d better get out here. We have something of a situation.” Archer flicked concerned eyes across to meet T’Pol’s. “We’re just finishing up here. We’ll be with you in a few minutes.” He shut the communicator with a snap that was lost in the noisy bustle of the room. “The situation here is considerably worse than we were led to believe.” Archer nodded. “I’m beginning to wonder if someone is trying to cover up the true extent of this outbreak.” “I had also come to that conclusion.” “Come on, we’d better see what kind of mess Shran has got himself into.” T’Pol finished downloading the information and slipped the data-chip into a pouch on her belt. They said a rapid farewell to Junior Doctor Remet and promised to see about sending him some help. They left the complex the way that they had come, back through the corridors lined with Andorian dead, and out of the main entrance. Shran and Marev were not where they had left them, but they heard shouting from a little further down the street. They quickly stripped off their protective overalls, masks and gloves, and placed them in biohazard bags, which T’Pol then sealed ready for testing and eventual disposal once they returned to the labs. Archer headed towards the sound at a run and found the two Andorians being confronted by a growing group of angry locals. “Why haven’t they sent anyone?” one man was shouting. “My daughter was admitted to the hospital but they won’t let me in to see her,” another said. “Why is this happening to us?” “I can’t answer your questions,” shouted Shran. “We weren’t expecting the situation that we found here.” “Liar!” “You’ve got a ship, we could leave with you.” “Yeah, take us with you.” “Why bother with them? We could take the ship.” “Wait!” shouted Archer. “We’re here to help you by gathering information on this illness. We need to take it back to Kantev so that we can develop a cure.” The entire mob turned to look at Archer, and for a few seconds he held their attention; then T’Pol came into view. “A Vulcan!” shrieked one of the women, in a tone that was somewhere between fear and hatred. “She brought this disease here.” “It’s Vulcan bio warfare.” “She probably has an antidote, get her and make her give it to us.” Shran drew his weapon. “Stop this foolishness now. She’s part of the crew of a ship that is here to help us.” “You’re in this with her and the human.” “Traitor.” The situation was getting more and more out of control by the moment. Archer, Marev and T’Pol took out their own weapons. “Enough!” shouted Shran. He and Marev inched their way back to Archer and T’Pol, keeping their weapons trained on the small crowd. “We don’t want to hurt any of you, but we have a mission to complete.” One of the group didn’t seem to be listening, or was desperate enough not to care about consequences, and made a lunge towards Shran as he backed away. Archer stunned him and he dropped to the ground. Unfortunately this just incensed the crowd even more. The shouting grew louder, growing from a low angry buzz to a furious, trembling cacophony. The buildings around them seemed to amplify the sound and make it bounce around in strange directions. “I thought you were going to sit here and do nothing while we were gone,” said Archer quietly to Shran as he fell in beside him. “Commander Shran felt we should look around,” said Marev, with a little bitterness in her voice. “These people are just looking for answers, like we are, pinkskin.” “It seems that they are no longer interested in answers and more in our shuttlepod,” said T’Pol. Her assessment sounded rather pointed and Archer couldn’t blame her. If Shran and Marev had just gone back to the shuttlepod, like they had been asked to, then none of this would have happened. “Maybe we should stop complaining about this situation and do something about getting out of it.” Shran bristled with annoyance. “I’m open to suggestions,” replied Archer. “We have phase pistols, stunning them would seem to be the obvious course of action,” said T’Pol. “There’s too many, we’d be overwhelmed before we could take down more than a handful,” said Shran. “And Andorian weapons don’t have a stun setting.” Archer just gave Shran a withering look. It shouldn’t really have surprised him that the Andorian weapons had no stun setting. The Andorians had never struck him as the kind of people who drew weapons without meaning to use them to draw blood. Archer pulled out his communicator with his free hand. “Archer to Enterprise.” He felt like a child calling his parents to ask them to come and pick him up. He was met with static. “Archer to Enterprise.” “You’re wasting your breath. No signal will penetrate these caves,” Shran snarled. Archer just sighed and put the communicator away. Suddenly there was the sound of footsteps behind them. Archer rounded on the new sound, assuming that more Andorians were coming to join the mob. He stopped in his tracks as he saw who it was. “Hi there, boys and girls. You look as if you could use some help.” Colonel Darwin stood in the middle of the corridor, with Ensign Tepiksel beside him and a group of Andorian Imperial Guardsmen behind him. The Andorian guardsmen ran forward and began to disperse the crowd. Archer just stood looking at Darwin. “How did you know we were here?” “I came looking for you at the lab, they told me that you’d come here. Then I tried to contact the local Guard station and no one answered.” Archer nodded. “Special Projects paranoia?” Darwin gave Archer a half smile. “Just call me the cavalry.” His face became more serious. “I have some information about Trip.” “You know where he is?” “No, but I know what his orders were and you’re not going to like this.” “Where you’re involved, I never do. Let’s get out of here and then you’re going to tell me what the hell is going on.” ****End of Chapter Three**** The ECS Vector reached Coriolis just over two days late. It would have arrived considerably later if it hadn’t been for Trip spending the majority of the journey modifying the engine to make the most of the available power. Lieutenant Commander Ohta had been pleasantly surprised to find another half warp factor had been squeezed out of her engine. Trip had also managed to help out with repairs and suggest some strategies for the lack of spares for the old engine. This involved modifying newer parts to make them back compatible; it could be a little time consuming but it was better than having no spare parts at all. He knew that he should write up what he’d done so that other cargo ships from the same class could take advantage of his ideas, but he wasn’t sure how he’d explain how he came up with the idea. A large part of it had been gained from looking at the engine itself. He was sure he’d think of something given enough time. Trip looked down through the window in his cabin at Coriolis below him and sighed. It was time for him to leave the ECS Vector and get on with his job. He’d packed up all his belongings again and was waiting for Ensign Gilmour to come and get him. There was a knock at his door but instead of Ensign Gilmour standing there, it was Captain Evarra. “What can I do for you, Captain? I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I can.” Trip offered Evarra the only seat in the cabin, but the Captain declined it with a small shake of his head. “I wanted to thank you for your help with the engine.” “I was just doing my job.” “Your only duty here was to sit back and let us take you to your next post,” said Evarra. Trip shrugged. “I doubt I’ll get much chance to play with another engine of this model for a while. I never could resist a challenge anyway.” “You don’t seem the typical Special Projects type,” said Evarra. “Mostly they keep themselves to themselves on these journeys, sit in their quarters and clean their weapons.” Trip laughed. “Yeah, I know what you mean. I used to work with a bunch of MACOs like that. Believe me when I say I’m just as bad as them when I want to be.” “You’ve done me a good turn, Commander, so I thought I should do you one. I bet Colonel Andros hasn’t given you the full story of what you’ve got yourself into here. I’m not sure that even I have the complete picture, but I’ve put everything that I know onto this padd. Read it when you get down to the surface.” Trip accepted the offered padd. “Couldn’t this get you into a lot of trouble? When they say classified, they really mean it.” “I didn’t get this detail by being an outstanding individual, Commander, but I suspect that you’d already guessed that.” Trip nodded. “I got that impression. What does Andros have on you?” A corner of Evarra’s mouth quirked upwards. “That would be telling, Commander. What does she have on you?” “A ship called Enterprise and a rather grey past.” Evarra gave Trip a quizzical look. “I wasn’t aware that Special Projects had been around that long.” “I was a member of the original Special Projects. I’m getting the distinct impression that this new incarnation doesn’t bear much resemblance to the old outfit. What’s going on down there?” “I have already said too much. Come, I’ll accompany you to the shuttle.” Trip smiled. “After you, Captain.” Trip wasn’t able to extract any further information from Evarra on their walk to the shuttle and the Captain made his excuses once they reached the shuttle bay. One of the crew was ready to take Trip to the surface and the journey down was uneventful, without even a little turbulence to enliven things. Coriolis was exactly what he had expected from reading the reports, it was a planet of grass plains and small settlements. The MACO base was near to one of these settlements, but it had a large area of grass and high fences surrounding it. What Trip hadn’t expected was who he found waiting for him when he landed. “Welcome to Coriolis,” said the dark haired figure. “Colonel Andros, I guess I should have expected you to be here. You didn’t need to greet me in person though, I’m sure you’ve got people for this sort of thing.” “This is my base, Commander, and sometimes I like to greet the new arrivals.” “Lucky me.” Andros gave him the kind of smile that crocodiles give people just before they take a bite out of them. “This way, Commander.” She led Trip to the door of a complex of buildings. She pressed the switch on what looked like a com point, but also had a keypad below it. “Colonel Daria Andros, clearance code alpha one seven two.” “Voice print recognised,” said a computer generated voice. “Enter entry code.” Andros entered a seven digit code and the door slid back. “First order of business tomorrow, we’ll take your voice print and give you an entry code. You need it to move around the base as well. Of course you’ll only be given access to the areas you need.” Trip followed her inside. The interior of the complex was a grey concrete corridor with doorways leading off it. “Of course. This looks like a pretty big place. What else have you got going on here, Colonel?” “You know better than to ask that question, Commander.” The padd that Evarra had given him was burning a hole in his pocket. “Your quarters are in the Engineering facility. That’s where you’ll be teaching as well.” “Teaching is one word for it.” Trip stepped over the threshold of the building and an alarm began to sound. “Your weapons, Commander,” said Andros. “The base security system detects any unauthorised weapons brought into the building.” “This is my sidearm,” replied Trip, producing his Enterprise issue phase pistol from his bag, complete with holster. “I don’t like giving it up.” “You won’t be needing it here.” Andros received the weapon and passed it to the MACO who was standing guard by the door. “Yeah, tell that to my Armoury Officer.” “It will be returned to you when you leave. Now, hand over the others,” said Andros. “What others?” Trip put on his best innocent expression. “You don’t spend three years in Special Projects without developing a healthy desire to hide weaponry. So hand them over.” Trip retrieved the boot knife that he was carrying. “I suppose you want my pocket knife too?” Andros nodded, while Trip sighed and shook his head. The pocket knife in question had been a present from Captain Archer, but it was a necessary sacrifice. Andros was right, no one who had been in Special Projects would have come to Coriolis with just a phase pistol. The MACOs loved their weapons and just because he was only an honorary MACO didn’t make him any less cautious. The boot knife and pocket knife were to draw attention away from the very special weapon that Reed had given him and was still buried deep in his kit bag. He now mentally crossed his fingers that the same detectors that had found his phase pistol would pass over the carefully concealed scanner that was really a phase pistol. The MACO guard checked his screen once more and gave Andros a nod as Trip handed him the pocket knife. That seemed to be the all clear. “This way, Commander,” said Andros. Andros took Trip through one of the doors off the main corridor into what was probably a recreation room. A group of MACOs were waiting there, none of whom were in uniform but they all wore rank insignia on their plain green overalls. The group straightened to attention as Andros approached. “At ease,” said Andros. The group relaxed slightly. “This is Commander Tucker of Starfleet. He’ll be joining us for a while.” Trip groaned inwardly as Andros mentioned that he was a member of Starfleet. Presenting him as an outsider from the start wouldn’t make his job any easier here. He needed to get on with these MACOs, not rekindle forces rivalry. Maybe he was worrying unnecessarily, he should really give his new colleagues a chance before he started to draw conclusions from first impressions. He had some experience of MACOs and how they tended to regard Starfleet though. The MACOs he’d met in the Delphic Expanse hadn’t been particularly willing to fit in with the Enterprise crew. “Hi there,” said Trip, with a smile. “Corporal Jensen, please take Commander Tucker to his quarters and then give him the ten cent tour.” “Yes, ma’am,” replied the young black man. Trip barely heard the order, he was too busy taking in his surroundings, and noting the insignia on the shoulders of the MACOs. Mostly the group were officers, and more intriguingly for a base supposedly teaching technical information, they were almost all medics. “I’ll catch up with you later, Commander,” said Andros and Trip couldn’t help but feel that there was something ominous in her tone. Jensen led Trip out of the room and down the corridor once again. Trip memorised the route as he went, if for no other reason than it would be useful to be able to find his way around the base. Again he found himself falling back on his MACO training and it was because he felt like he was in a hostile environment. In theory this was a friendly base and he shouldn’t have needed to worry, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something very wrong about this whole set up, above and beyond the ethical and legal aspects of what went on here. As Andros had ordered, Jensen escorted Trip to his assigned quarters. Trip left his bags there, although pocketed the scanner to prevent its discovery, in case someone decided to go through his bags. Evarra’s padd was also placed in his back pocket for the same reason. Jensen then took Trip on the promised tour of the base. The structure was large, with coloured lines on the walls leading the way to the main areas such as the mess, main operations, West Wing, East Wing and the High Security facility. As all the corridors were of the same uniform grey concrete the colour coding was necessary to help the staff navigate. A whole Engineering workshop complex had been equipped for Trip’s part of the project. There were already some Coriolan engineers working there and they would be the people that Trip would be training to build a warp engine. He briefly said hello but proper introductions would have to wait until the following day when the program started properly. It was getting late by the time Jensen had finished and Trip was tired. The corporal finally left him in his quarters to rest, saying that he’d be back in the morning to take him to breakfast at 0700 local time. Trip made a half hearted attempt to unpack his belongings but he was too tired. He noticed that some things in his bags had definitely been moved while he’d been on his tour of the base and was very glad that he’d taken the scanner and padd with him. Obviously Andros wasn’t above checking out her new arrivals and she was probably aware that with Trip she needed to watch him twice as carefully. People might leave Special Projects but their training never left them. Couple that with his engineering expertise and Trip was most likely one of the most dangerous people on the base. He gave up unpacking and decided to use the time before he fell asleep to shower, and then he’d read Evarra’s padd. He stepped into the small bathroom, undressed and fiddled with the shower controls until the water was at a comfortable temperature. He stepped under the water and found himself experiencing the nearest thing to bliss that was possible in his current situation. It was the first proper long shower that he’d had since he left Enterprise. The ECS Vector’s dated water recycling system severely limited the amount of water available for bathing and he’d only been able to wash rapidly. He shut off the water feeling more refreshed and towelled himself dry. He wrapped the towel around his middle as he left the bathroom and then settled down on the bed to read the padd. He turned on the padd and discovered that it was blank. He couldn’t believe it at first. He’d had several padds in his bag so perhaps this was the wrong one. He got out the others to be sure, but found that every single one of them was blank. He sat on his bed looking at the blank padd in his hand, absolutely fuming and kicking himself for not reading it earlier. He’d wanted to wait until he was in a safe location, but now he wished that he just read it on the shuttle down. The only thing that he could think of that made any sense was some sort of data deleting field at the entrance to the complex. He couldn’t begin to guess why though. He could see why top secret data shouldn’t leave the facility but surely people would want to bring data into the facility. He flopped back on the bed in defeat. This was definitely Andros’ doing, and he suspected that she knew that Evarra had given him something. Most likely the data deleting field was only turned on when someone was leaving the facility but Andros had arranged it to be active for his arrival. That could also explain why she had chosen to meet him personally. That meant that she had spies on the ECS Vector, and probably in the facility as well. He was going to have to watch his step very, very carefully around here. **** “This is the schematic for a gravimetric field displacement manifold, commonly known as a warp reactor. It has eight major components. The deuterium tanks, plasma accelerators, antimatter injectors, dilithium chamber, power transfer conduits, warp nacelles, warp coils and bussard collectors. This is what we’re going to be building. I know it looks pretty complicated to you now, but once we’ve gone through the theory it should make more sense.” Trip’s opening was met with enthusiastic scribbling on the padds from the assembled class, who sat in chairs in front of him. They attentively took notes on every detail of the schematic that was displayed on the large screen at the front of the room. The attitude of the Coriolans, although very welcome, bemused Trip. He certainly didn’t remember his compatriots in OTC being this eager to learn about warp theory. Then his classmates at OTC hadn’t had names that were six syllables long either. He was still reeling from going round the room and asking everyone their names. It had taken some time and he was never going to be able to remember them all. “Right, warp theory 101. A warp reactor works by forming a bubble of subspace around the ship and then distorting the space in front and behind the ship. It’s kind of like a surfer riding a wave.” A hand was raised and Trip nodded for his student to ask their question. He already briefly outlined how they should indicate if they had a question. The gesture of putting a hand in the air seemed to amuse them and he wondered if it had some cultural significance. “A surfer?” Trip immediately realised his mistake and he was sure that it would be the first of several of this kind. “You don’t have surfers? You get a board, paddle out into the water on it and wait for a big wave to carry you back to the shore. It’s a sport where I come from.” He received several blank looks. “Okay, let’s do a bit of practical experimentation.” Trip looked around for some suitable materials. He picked a large sheet of some sort of heavy plastic and a small cylindrical cardboard box which had previously held retrobolts from the label on the side. He laid out the plastic sheeting and placed the cylinder on its side on the sheet. “Everyone gather round. Come on, don’t be shy.” The students looked a little bewildered at his actions but made their way to the front of the room where Trip had laid out the experiment. Trip gave one end of the sheet a sharp shake up and down and created a good wave that rippled along the sheet, carrying the cylinder in front of it until it reached the end of the sheet. The cylinder rolled off the end of the sheet and crashed into the wall in front of it. “Do you see what I mean? The wave I made carried the cylinder down the sheet. It’s the same in space with a ship. Come on, why don’t you try it?” Trip indicated for the nearest of the Coriolans to try it, while he went to reclaim the cylinder from where it had landed. The first of his students to try it was timid but it was obvious that he had understood what Trip was getting at as the cylinder rolled along the undulations. After seeing their friend try, the rest of the class wanted to have a go which resulted in much amusement as other objects were found to try out. Trip used this to point out how much better the smooth, round ones did than the square or knobbly ones. It was the best ice breaker that he could have imagined. Unfortunately Colonel Andros arrived just as the last class members were taking their turns. “I appear to have walked in on play time.” Andros entered unannounced and she looked distinctly unhappy. “It’s a demonstration of warp theory,” said Trip. The class behind him had gone silent for a moment, but as Trip moved closer to Andros they returned to the experiment, ignoring the interruption. Trip got the distinct impression that they’d never experienced this type of practical learning. “You’ve got two months to teach these people warp theory. You don’t have time for games, Commander.” “Yeah, well I don’t have time to rewrite all my notes either, but it looks like I’m going to have to, since all my padds were mysteriously wiped when I walked through the door of this place.” The words were out of Trip’s mouth before he’d even thought about them and suddenly he wondered if confronting Andros about this now was such a good idea. “If you had let me know that you were planning to bring electronic data with you then I would have arranged for your padds to be kept intact. That doesn’t explain what you’re doing here.” “Sometimes the best way to explain something, and get people to learn it, is to give them a practical example. I’m teaching something pretty damn complicated, warp theory. I’m guessing that’s not something that you know anything about.” “You have me there, Commander.” “Did you just come down here to insult my teaching methods or did you want something?” “Just seeing how you’re settling in, but also to bring you a dinner invitation. The Coriolans want to meet you. I’ve set up a small welcome dinner with the senior staff and the high ranking Coriolans. The Premier is particularly interested to see who is teaching his son.” Trip groaned inwardly. “His son?” “Yes, Tjearigeshearithen Dvortshangharichantor is the son of Premier Dvortshangharichantor.” Andros pointed out one of the young male Coriolans who was enthusiastically taking part in a second run of the experiment. “You’ve been practising that.” “It’s either practise or offend the highest ranking dignitary on the planet. Believe me when I tell you that this planet is too important to lose because of a slip up in etiquette.” “I don’t think you’ve explained why that is exactly.” “Need to know, Commander,” said Andros. “And I don’t need to know?” Andros just gave him another one of her crocodile smiles. “I’ll leave you to your class. Dinner is at 1900.” “I don’t suppose this is something that I can take a rain check on? We’ve got a lot to do here.” Trip indicated the workshop around them with a wave of his arm. “No rain checks, no excuses. Dress uniform and you will salute me when you arrive.” Trip shook his head. “Only one MACO ever earned the right to have me salute him. I’ll call you sir or ma’am or whatever you prefer, but you’re going to have to live without me saluting you.” Andros’ eyes narrowed. “We’ll see about that before your tour here is up. See you tonight, Commander.” The Colonel left the workshop, the door slamming behind her. “Not if I see you first,” Trip muttered, under his breath. He turned back to his class who had again gone quiet. The young man that Trip recognised as Tjearigeshearithen raised a hand, and Trip nodded at him to go ahead. “I heard the Colonel telling you that my father is the Premier.” “Yeah, she mentioned it.” “I hope you will not hold it against me. Not everyone here shares his politics.” Trip nodded. “It’s not my place to judge what your people are doing or your political views. I’m just here to help you build a warp engine. That’s all. As far as I’m concerned you’re just another engineer. Now, we’ve got a lot to cover before we can even begin to move on to the more complicated stuff.” Despite his speech, Trip decided that he should at least look into what Premier Dvortshangharichantor’s views were. After all, he was expected to eat dinner with the man. For the moment however he needed to concentrate on teaching his group of young engineers the basics of warp theory. He’d have time later to investigate the political situation on Coriolis. *** Trip dismissed his class at about 1800, which just gave him enough time to head back to his quarters, shower and get into uniform. He hadn’t worn it for some time now and it was itchy and stiff when he put it on. Earlier that day, after Andros had declared her dinner plans, he had gone by the quartermaster and arranged for the correct patch to be put on his uniform. He didn’t want his Enterprise patch to be seen here. The less these people knew about him the better. He could have asked for one of the new patches from this new incarnation of Special Projects, but it hadn’t seemed right. The unit emblem was no longer a mosquito, but a wasp. Trip took this to mean something more than just an artistic decision. A mosquito was subtle, people didn’t notice them until they’d been bitten and their blood sucked. Wasps were obvious and everyone knew that they were malevolent, they didn’t bite, they stung. Wasps hurt and didn’t get anything from the hurt, at least mosquitoes took something away with them for the trouble that they caused. To him that was the difference between what he and Darwin’s Special Project’s unit had done and Andros’s outfit. He arrived at the mess hall a little late. He’d calculated this to annoy Andros, not because he wanted to cause her trouble with the Coriolans, but more as a pay back for her visit to his class earlier. He wasn’t disappointed by her reaction. The scowl on her face was carefully hidden away as she turned back to her guests after registering his arrival, but he knew he’d irritated the immaculately dressed, perfectly organised, Colonel. In her world everything was regimented, it was time to teach her that wasn’t what Trip Tucker was all about. There were drinks before the dinner began, which meant some mingling and making small talk was unavoidable. Andros got him back for lateness by towing him around the room with her and introducing him to every minor Coriolan official present. Needless to say, they all had horribly long names that Trip couldn’t hope to remember. Not content with that, Andros then dragged him round all the base’s senior staff as well. “Major Sandrikov, this is Commander Tucker. Major Sandrikov is the head of Security here.” Trip sized up the muscled man in front of him. He was the exact opposite of his previous experience with Security officers. Malcolm Reed was small (well, Malcolm would say “compact”), and nimble. Sandrikov was tall, a good few inches taller than Trip, with a blond crew-cut and he looked like he spent most of his spare time in the gym. “Hi there, Major. Pleased to meet you.” Trip held out his hand to be shaken, but it was ignored. “I had heard that we were getting a Starfleet Engineer. You were a member of Darwin’s Special Projects Unit?” Sandrikov eyed the shoulder patch on his uniform. He had a slight Russian accent that was no where as friendly sounding as Kanatova’s. “Yeah, I was recruited for one mission and ended up staying for three years.” “I was put forward for a position in Special Projects. Darwin turned me down in favour of some Hispanic kid from Miami.” Sandrikov sounded very annoyed and not a little aggrieved. Trip stiffened slightly, defensively. He knew who he meant, “Hispanic kid from Miami” could only be one person. He was talking about Terri Arroya, who was sadly no longer with them. He’d visited her grave in the military cemetery, with the other remaining members of Special Projects, only a few weeks ago. Trip hoped Sandrikov didn’t decide to start bad mouthing her, as he wouldn’t be held responsible for his actions if he did. He’d liked Arroya and he wouldn’t have her memory sullied by anyone, no matter how well muscled they were. Sandrikov didn’t seem to have noticed Trip’s change in demeanour and carried on regardless. “He told me I didn’t have what he was looking for. Like some pathetic, little, Latino girl who used to run with street gangs did. But then I am still here and she isn’t. It looks like I proved him wrong.” Trip’s dislike of this man was barely contained. “No, I think he had you down right. Darwin was a good judge of character.” Sandrikov stopped his gloating, his face becoming dark with anger. The two men locked eyes, missing the strange look that slipped across Andros’ face at the mention of Darwin. “I could never respect a man like Darwin. Everyone in his unit was a misfit or reject.” “Better that than a muscle bound jerk who doesn’t know which end of a phase pistol is which. It looks like Colonel Andros doesn’t care who she lets in.” “It seems that way,” replied Sandrikov, looking Trip up and down. “Maybe we should put your theory to the test. I’m sure that no one has bothered to show you the firing range yet.” “Not yet,” said Trip, seeing where this was going. Sandrikov had probably seen his record and that would have included his shooting scores. That meant he had at least some advantage, because the Major had no idea how good he really was. “Be there tomorrow at 0700 and we’ll see how good you are with a weapon, grease monkey.” Sandrikov pushed past him, intentionally clipping him on the shoulder. “Nice guy,” said Trip to Andros. “Nice guys come last, especially in this game,” she replied. “He is a good shot though. I hope for your sake that your little macho posing contest doesn’t move on to the gym or I could be visiting you in the infirmary.” Any further conversation was interrupted by the party being told that they should take their places at the table. Dinner was about to be served. This was a full formal military dinner with all the frippery and pointless etiquette that went with it. There was even a seating plan, no doubt devised by Colonel Andros to make sure he had a dull evening. When Trip located his name card he found that he’d been sat next to the Premier’s son, Tjearigeshearithen. It was near the head of the table where the important people were sitting and this made Trip uneasy. He had a bad feeling that Andros had something planned for this evening and he wasn’t going to like it. Tjearigeshearithen seemed to be slightly embarrassed by the whole thing. “Although I am honoured, it was not necessary for you to sit next to me. I said I did not want any special treatment. You are our guest.” Guests were revered in Coriolan culture, which was probably where Tjearigeshearithen was getting this misplaced sense of embarrassment. “Listen, Tjearigesh…” Trip stumbled over the name. “Tjearigeshearithen,” the Coriolan corrected. “Don’t you have a nickname or a shorter version of your name that I could use?” “Nickname?” Tjearigeshearithen looked baffled. “It’s something you call someone for short. Like mine. My real name is Charles but everyone calls me Trip.” “Trip? That doesn’t sound much like Charles.” Trip sighed. “Look, forget it, how about I just call you Jerry? Would you mind that?” The newly christened Jerry shook his head and smiled beatifically. “I would be honoured for you to bestow a nickname upon me.” Trip smiled back. “Great, Jerry it is. I guess this means you should call me Trip.” “Very well. Trip.” Jerry tested out the name. “It is very short.” “That’s kind of the point. So tell me a bit about yourself.” “About myself? There is not much to tell.” “There’s got to be something. Your Dad’s the Premier. How come you decided to become an engineer?” “Even the sons of Premiers have to do something. It seemed like an interesting field.” “You seem to know your stuff. You’re kind of young to be an expert in warp theory.” Jerry nodded. “It is a new field. There are very few of us who study it exclusively. Until recently I was considered something of a rebel.” “Huh, kind of like Zefram Cochrane.” “Zeframcochrane?” asked Jerry, making the name sound Coriolan. “He’s the guy who invented the warp engine back home. No one thought it was possible except him. Actually a bit like Henry Archer.” “Was this Henryarcher another of your warp theory pioneers?” That was all it took for Trip to give Jerry the complete history of the discovery of the warp engine right up until the launch of Enterprise. The history of the warp engine was Trip’s specialist subject and he could talk the hind leg off a donkey when he got going on it. Luckily, the young Coriolan was fascinated. They passed the meal in deep discussion to the exclusion of the other guests around the table. Trip was actually starting to enjoy himself, when Andros clapped her hands to silence the chatter of the room. “Good evening, Officers and Honoured Guests. As you know we are celebrating the safe arrival of a new member of the team, this evening. Commander Tucker, would you please stand.” Trip’s cheeks flushed pink, but he stood and smiled awkwardly at the assembled dignitaries. Andros continued, ignoring Trip’s embarrassment at being singled out. “Commander Tucker is one of our finest engineers and is teaching warp theory to some of your own engineers, including Tjearigeshearithen Dvortshangharichantor. I know that this is an important step in your readiness for a Klingon invasion and helping Earth in it’s war against them.” Trip gaped at Andros for a moment. When had Earth declared war on Quo’nos? Suddenly another piece of the puzzle settled into place. This was the reason why the Coriolans were allowing them to stay here, because they thought that they were allies against the Klingons. Naturally the Coriolans would be worried about an impending attack from their warlike neighbours, and Andros was feeding their paranoia. “Thank you, Commander, you can sit down now,” said Andros. Her speech had continued while Trip had been lost in thought. He sank back to the relative safety of his chair. He had known that something was really wrong with this set up, and there it was, blatantly thrown in his face. Maybe this was what Evarra had been going to tell him on the padd. Trip wasn’t sure what to think, but he knew that he was complicit in this lie, just by being here. He was also well aware that, for the moment, there was no way out for him. Lying and Special Projects seemed to go hand in hand. He’d sold Andros his soul in exchange for his place on Enterprise. He was beginning to wonder if it had been worth it. Then again, it hadn’t just been his soul up for sale, and he was glad that he’d kept Archer out of this. For the first time that evening he reached for the bottle of wine on the table and poured himself a glass. He never got drunk in public, it was an old rule drummed into him by Darwin, but one glass wouldn’t hurt. He needed something to occupy himself and stop him stomping up to Andros to demand that she tell everyone the truth. Jerry was talking enthusiastically again, but he couldn’t summon up the will to return his eagerness. Tonight he’d allow himself the luxury of sulking; tomorrow he had to show Sandrikov that he was more than just a grease monkey, and after that he’d work out what to do about Andros. **** The next morning Trip arrived at the shooting range, after a rather broken night’s sleep, to find not only Sandrikov waiting for him but a small audience of MACOs. Obviously word had got round that there was to be a shoot off between the newest arrival and their head of security. No doubt everyone would be expecting the Major to beat him hands down, and Trip wondered if they wouldn’t be correct in their expectations. His recent session with Reed had proved that he wasn’t up to previous form. He’d definitely let Sandrikov get the better of him last night. He should never have agreed to this public display of his shooting ability, it could have been an ace up his sleeve, and he might regret revealing it. Shaking his head, he went to sign out a practise weapon. Corporal Jensen was on duty at the sign out desk. “Morning Corporal,” said Trip. “Good morning, sir. If you could just sign here.” Jensen indicated a line on the padd. Trip noticed another signature scrawled above his. “Looks like Major Sandrikov made it down here before me. How’s his form looking?” “As good as always, sir. Sandy’s our highest ranking shot. Rumour is that he was a sniper back in the day.” “Great, just what I wanted to hear.” “If it’s any consolation, sir, the betting pool is giving your odds as forty to one.” “That’s terrible, Corporal.” “But great if you’re betting against Sandy, which I am.” “And why, with those odds, would you even think about betting against the Major?” “Because I’m pretty sure Colonel Darwin never recruited anyone who couldn’t shoot straight.” “And how would you know that, Corporal?” “He was my CO a while back,” said Jensen. “He used to like putting us through our paces.” Trip smirked. “Yeah, I know what you mean.” “Don’t let me down, Commander. I’ve got my poker money riding on this.” “I’ll do my best, Corporal,” said Trip. He took the weapon that was issued to him, a phase rifle of standard MACO issue. Jensen handed him a pair of ear protectors, which he took resignedly. He went over to the firing range where Sandrikov was already waiting and sized up his opponent. Last night, taking this guy down a peg or two had seemed like a good idea. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He knew he could shoot straight, but he wasn’t sure that he was better than Sandrikov. After all, he wasn’t even the best shot on board Enterprise, let alone in Special Projects. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d decided to stay in bed,” said the Russian Major. “And miss the look on your face when I wipe the floor with your ass? Not a chance.” “You seem very certain of yourself. I congratulate you on your bravado, Commander. I suggest we keep this simple. We set the targets at the maximum distance, maximum difficulty, anything else wouldn’t be a real test. Highest score after three target sequences wins. If we draw, the one with the highest individual target sequence score wins.” “Whatever you want, Major. Let’s get this over with.” Trip heard the door of the firing range open behind him and he looked over his shoulder to see who had entered. It was, of course, Colonel Andros. He should have known that she wouldn’t be able to resist checking out the contest. He turned back in time to see Sandrikov giving Andros the smallest nod in acknowledgement. Trip realised that the contest had become a medieval jousting match, and Andros was the lady who had picked her champion in the shape of Sandrikov. This was all a set up, a carefully calculated plot to humble him and show him who was boss. A set up that he’d walked right into it. Well, almost. The first target was ready to go. “This is your home turf, Major, after you,” said Trip. “No, Commander, you are the guest so you should go first. I insist.” It was said politely but it was anything but polite in its intention. Sandrikov expected that Trip wouldn’t know the computer program that the targets were using and this meant he wouldn’t have a chance to watch him shoot first. Trip stepped up to the line and gave a nod to Jensen, who was operating the computer that controlled the targets as they zipped around. The program began, and Trip was pleased to see that it was the same training program that the MACOs had used on Enterprise, as he had thought. Unfortunately he’d been training on the Starfleet program recently, but at least it wasn’t a total surprise. His focus narrowed down to the task at hand and he acquitted himself well, missing only a handful of the first targets. Sandrikov was smirking, however. Trip stood back from the line and gestured for Sandrikov to take his place. The program began once again and Trip was able to watch what he was up against. Sandrikov was good, there was absolutely no doubt in Trip’s mind about that. He silently rooted for his opponent to miss. He watched the Major take down almost every single target, only missing the second from last. It was very nearly a perfect score, which meant that Trip was already behind. Trip took position again, concentration written on his face. This time he did better and got his eye in early. The sequence ended and he had managed to score a perfect one hundred percent. Sandrikov looked less happy this time as they changed places, he obviously hadn’t expected Trip to give him much competition. Once again Sandrikov was able to obtain a near perfect score, this time missing one in the central sequence. Trip was still behind however and his last run would need to be perfect to make up for the misses in his first. Trip stepped up to the line for the final time. His concentration was good, but he couldn’t obtain a second perfect score and he missed the very last target drone. That gave him six misses overall to Sandrikov’s two. Again the Major was smiling, knowing that all he had to do was repeat his previous performance and he would have the match. There was tense silence through out the firing range as he stepped up and took his firing position. He hit the first targets easily, but in the second wave he missed two and then he shocked the audience by missing a third and fourth in the last batch of targets. One of the missed targets had been a particularly nasty shot that seemed to disappear under the phase rifle beam and reappear an inch to the left. Sandrikov was not at all happy as he removed his ear protectors and looked to Jensen for the score. “You both missed six targets, sirs,” said the Corporal. “But Commander Tucker was the only one to get a perfect score on a sequence, so he takes the match.” The assembled crowd broke into somewhat disjointed clapping. Trip guessed that quite a lot of them had bet against him. He couldn’t quite stop the huge grin that broke across his face, but then he didn’t really care if he came across as a bad winner. Sandrikov was certainly a bad loser. He gave Trip a dark look, threw his phase rifle to the ground, kicked it into a corner and then strode out of the firing range. Colonel Andros came over to where Trip was stowing away his weapon, rather more carefully than his opponent. “I think you may have upset Major Sandrikov.” “You think?” Trip grinned, evilly. “If Enterprise’s Armoury Officer saw how he treated his weapons then he’d tell him that he deserved to lose.” “You’ve shown him up, Commander. I’m not sure that was a good move on your part. He could make life very difficult for you here.” “Yeah, well, I’ll take my chances.” “You may think that this is some small victory in an ongoing war, Commander, but he lost. You didn’t win anything.” Andros was telling him that he hadn’t gone up in her estimation with this little display. He was still stuck here doing what she wanted. She met his eyes briefly, before turning on her heel and leaving the range. With the entertainment over, everyone was filing out of the range and off to their duty assignments. Jensen came over to collect the phase rifle that had been so unceremoniously dumped. “That last sequence for Sandrikov was a bit tricky. It almost looked as if the targets changed course in the middle of the program.” “Yeah, it did look that way, didn’t it?” Trip’s features were carefully schooled into innocence. “Some people might think that the computer was acting up.” “They might think that,” replied Trip, in a nonchalant tone. He checked that everyone had left the range and then took a small box out of his pocket. It looked as if it had once been a standard issue communicator, but it had been rather modified. Trip flicked open the lid with his thumb and pressed a switch. Then he went around the sign-in desk to the computer terminal. A few strokes of the keys had him through the security protocols and into the control program for the target drones. A few more strokes of the keys got rid of the small changes that he had made to the target practise program, that were activated at the right moment by his hastily put together remote control. He’d only needed it for the final sequence as it had turned out. “Are you sure you want me to see this?” asked Jensen. “Doesn’t matter now,” replied Trip. “All I needed was to beat Sandrikov in front of witnesses and make a point. Andros can’t push me around like she thought she could.” “When did you find time to set this up?” “Last night, after the party broke up. I didn’t feel much like sleeping and I was damned if Sandrikov was going to win this. I’m not the greatest programmer in the world but I know enough to get by, and target computers aren’t exactly warp engine controller software.” Trip usually left any really complicated programming to Ensign Lauritsen and T’Pol, they were far better at it than he was and took half the time that he would have done. His programming skills were purely functional and not exactly elegant. “In other words, you cheated.” “I’d call it improvising.” Trip smiled mischievously. “The way I look at it, if he’d been smarter then he would have got here first.” “I’d never call Sandy smart, but a word of warning, Commander, he’s a mean bastard when he wants to be. You’d better watch your back.” Jensen looked serious and Trip believed his warning. “Don’t worry, Corporal. I can take care of myself.” Trip hoped that he wouldn’t be made a liar. **** End of Chapter Four **** Darwin had brought his own transport to Sera, so the two shuttles made their way back to Kantev separately, a move which frustrated Archer’s attempts to question the ex-MACO. The journey back to Kantev seemed even longer than their journey there. Archer tried to sleep, but he had so many unanswered questions that he was only able to get a couple of hours before his brain, working overtime, woke him. At last, Kantev’s port came into view through the snow storm that had just begun. “The port will be shutting down operations if this gets any worse,” said Shran. “I thought Andorians would be able to cope with a little snow storm.” “Even here, a blizzard is a blizzard. Nothing can fly in a hundred mile per hour winds and driving snow. Here a storm can last for three weeks.” Archer hoped that this one didn’t last that long. They landed on an icebound landing pad in near whiteout conditions. It didn’t bode well for the weather over the next few days. Everyone hurried into the relative warmth of the port buildings as quickly as they could. The Imperial Guard shuttle carrying Darwin and Ensign Tepiksel was only a few minutes behind them. A contingent of Guardsmen had remained in Sera to keep the peace and see what could be done to help the situation there, but the rest had returned. No one seemed to be quite sure how things in Sera had got so bad so quickly. There hadn’t been any reason to keep in regular contact with the small town until T’Pol had identified it as the possible source of the virus and location of patient zero. Full decontamination procedures had been undertaken by all the Andorians returning from the town, but Archer wasn’t sure how much good it would do. A few minutes later Darwin came in out of the snow, brushing fresh powder off his clothes. He was in full arctic gear, as were Archer and T’Pol, which was required here to go even the short distance from the shuttle to the port building. Ensign Tepiksel followed him, obviously less bothered than his charge by the short walk in the cold. T’Pol took the opportunity to suggest that everyone should go back to their assigned quarters, shower, change into fresh clothes and get some food before meeting back at the labs. Archer felt that he was being extremely patient when he agreed, but he acknowledged that they were all tired and hungry. No one had got much sleep on the way back to Kantev and food had consisted of Andorian field rations, which Archer wouldn’t have wished on his worst enemy. Even Shran hadn’t defended them. The party split up to go back to their respective quarters, Lieutenant Marev offering to show Archer and T’Pol where their assigned quarters were. Archer was slightly behind T’Pol and Marev when Darwin grabbed hold of his arm and led him away from the others. Ensign Tepiksel followed at a distance, but had obviously been instructed to stay out of hearing range. “I don’t know if we’ll get another chance to talk,” said Darwin. “You know where I’ll be,” said Archer. “I assume the military conference goes on for a few more days.” “It isn’t that. I did some checking. You were right, Special Projects has been reinstated. It’s a much larger organisation now. According to my source they have operatives right here on Andoria.” “That’s impossible. You’re the only human who lives on Andoria, anyone else would stick out like a sore thumb.” “They don’t have to be here on a permanent basis, just here when it matters. Cargo ships come and go from here everyday, some of them are human. If I start poking around in things that don’t concern me, we could be in for some trouble.” “If they have people watching, what are they looking for?” “I don’t know, but we should assume that you are a person of interest to them. We need to be careful.” Archer nodded. “What about Trip? What did you find out?” “Not much. All I know is that his orders were to teach some aliens how to build a warp engine.” “That’s against all of our non-interference guidelines. I can’t believe he’d do that.” “Trip isn’t doing any of this because he wants to. Even back in the day, his moral compass was always completely accurate. He’s just got worse at ignoring it, for which I blame you and your high ideals, Mr Starfleet-Poster-Boy.” Darwin had been getting closer to Archer throughout this last sentence and now he was right up to his face. “If I’m responsible for Trip doing what he thinks is right then I’m glad, but I don’t have time to argue with you about morality. Right now I want to know how to help him.” Darwin took a step backwards. “I still don’t know where he is. It looks like Special Projects have set up a base outside the solar system, but I haven’t been able to get a lead on where. For the moment all I can say is that he isn’t engaged in combat, and that probably means that he’s safe for the time being.” “This is Trip that we’re talking about.” Darwin actually laughed at that comment. “Yes, it is, but until we can find out where he is, there’s nothing either of us can do. I’ll keep digging and see what I can turn up, but, until then, you’ll just have to sit tight.” Archer nodded reluctantly. “I’ll get Ensign Mayweather to look at the ECS Vector’s trajectory and see if it intersects with any habitable systems.” “Knock yourself out. I doubt it will do much good. If they were following protocol then they changed heading several times to protect their destination.” “At least I’ll be doing something,” Archer ground out. He turned away from Darwin and let his long stride take him from the ex-MACO colonel as quickly as possible. **** Archer spent his three hours of down time doing exactly what had been suggested, eating, showering and changing his uniform. He felt better for it. He had also contacted Enterprise and been reassured by Lieutenant Reed that everything was running smoothly there. He had ordered Mayweather to take a look at the ECS Vector’s course, but he had little hope that anything would come out of it, despite what he had said to Darwin. He arrived at the labs three hours later to find everyone, except Phlox, looking bone tired. The doctor just looked a little stressed. Kanatova was lying stretched out on a lab bench, obviously fast asleep and seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. Phlox saw him watching Kanatova. “She gave in about two hours ago. Andorians need less sleep than humans and, as you know, Denobulans have quite an extended sleep cycle. I think she’d been trying to stay awake so that she didn’t seem weak in front of us. I had a quiet word with her, but she still refused to leave the lab. She lay down on that bench and fell asleep right away; she hasn’t stirred since.” “I wish I could sleep like that,” said Archer. “Considering everything that she’s seen and done in her life, I’m surprised that she can sleep at all. I know Trip doesn’t have it so easy.” Phlox merely gave a half shrug and continued with what he was doing. “I’m not at liberty to discuss the Commander’s sleeping habits.” Archer dropped the subject. “Is T’Pol here yet?” “I believe she is analysing the data you brought back from Sera in the lab next door,” replied Phlox. Archer went in search of his first officer. She was exactly where Phlox had said she would be, her eyes locked on the computer screen in front of her. She looked up when she heard Archer enter the room. “Captain, I am in the process of analysing the data we collected.” “Phlox told me. Have you found anything?” “Perhaps. I would like to wait for Commander Shran before I tell you my findings.” “I’m here,” said Shran, marching into the room. “Let’s get on with it.” Archer saw Marev lurking in the doorway and wondered if something was going on between those two. T’Pol turned back to the screen. “Very well. You mentioned that you had visited a friend in Sera.” “Yes, a colleague of mine. What does that have to do with it?” “I believe that patient zero was an Imperial Guard officer named Commander Sharas Vettran. He was the captain of…” “The Telispa, the Kumari’s sister ship,” Shran breathed. “Sharas Vettran was the friend that I visited last year. His family came from Sera, but he was the last of his line. I thought he was on deployment.” Marev stepped into the room. “The Telispa was recalled.” Shran turned to look at Marev. “How would an officer of the Deytan know the movements of the Telispa?” “Deytan?” asked Archer. “Police force,” supplied T’Pol. Shran had locked eyes with Marev and wasn’t paying attention to the others in the room. “Unless you’re Vela Kari.” Again Archer looked to T’Pol to translate. “He is suggesting that Marev is a member of the Andorian secret police.” “You should guard your words more carefully, Commander,” said Marev. “Your refusal to answer the question is all the proof I need,” spat Shran. “Why would a member of the Vela Kari be playing tour guide?” “The Vela Kari are always interested when aliens are on our soil,” said Marev. “They’ve come to help us.” Shran did not look pleased. “This is bad faith.” “Shran, we can discuss this later,” said Archer. “We should be more concerned with stopping this disease. T’Pol, what else did you find out?” “I checked the list of patients who have contracted the disease and compared it with the list of the Telispa’s crew. There was a high percentage of correlation between the two lists. In many cases the officer from the Telispa was listed as one of the early patients to be admitted, if not the first. In Kantev, several officers were admitted together.” “That makes sense. Kantev is our main space port,” said Marev. “You’re saying that the crew of the Telispa are responsible for spreading this disease?” asked Shran. T’Pol turned her serious brown eyes on the assembled group. “I am saying that they may very well have brought the disease to Andoria.” “When was the Telispa recalled?” asked Archer. “About three months ago,” said Marev. “That would coincide with the start of the outbreak,” said T’Pol. Archer nodded in agreement. “What were they doing before that?” “That is classified information.” “Obviously they were doing something for the Vela Kari,” said Shran, crossly. “I doubt she even knows. She’s too far down the command chain.” “Well?” asked Archer. “Shran is right. I’m not allowed access to such information. You’ll have to talk to Vela Kari Command.” Shran breathed a single word. “Talas.” “I thought Talas was the name of your Security Officer on board the Kumari.” Archer looked slightly confused. “It is, but her mother, General Elaran Talas, is High Commander of the Vela Kari. Her security clearance is higher than any other Andorian alive.” “How do we speak to her?” “We don’t. We make an enquiry with the Vela Kari and hope that she’ll grant us an audience.” “We don’t have time to wait around,” Archer said curtly. “There is no shortcut here. The Vela Kari are very powerful in Andorian society.” “What about the rest of the crew of the Telispa?” Archer looked back towards T’Pol. “Are any of them still alive?” “Perhaps,” said T’Pol. “Some crewmembers are still unaccounted for, and may not have been taken ill yet.” “Then we have to find them,” said Archer. “What about Lieutenant Talerez, the first officer?” asked Shran with sudden interest. “She is one of those unaccounted for.” “Do you know her?” “She was supposed to be marrying my brother next summer. It was the first time for over a year that their deployment patterns meant that they would both be on Andoria at the same time. If the Telispa brought the virus here it might explain how my brother contracted it.” “We should start by alerting Doctor Phlox to our findings. He will want to know about this development. It is a further clue as to the origin of the disease and any surviving crewmembers from the Telispa may harbour a natural immunity.” T’Pol was already downloading information onto a padd to give to Phlox. Archer nodded. “Brief the Doctor, and we’ll start tracking down the Telispa crew.” **** The days at the MACO base passed in much the same way. He got up early in the morning and spent his day teaching the Coriolans how to build warp engines, usually late into the evening. They’d got past the theory now and were moving on to actually putting the engine together. Sandrikov hadn’t so far given Trip any more trouble after their shooting match, but that didn’t mean there wouldn’t be trouble later. He hadn’t seen much of Colonel Andros either. He’d very publicly undermined the position of her champion and he suspected that he’d have to pay for that soon. Perhaps they were just avoiding him. At the moment he was more concerned with what Special Projects were really doing on Coriolis. He knew that there was more going on than just giving warp technology to the Coriolans. His walk to the mess hall in the morning took him past the doors of the high security wing. He often saw members of the MACO medical corps coming and going. He saw the same people in the mess hall every day and he’d tried to draw them on what they were doing, but they refused to give anything away. That wasn’t the only mysterious thing going on in the MACO base either. Trip had seen Major Sandrikov and his men giving a group of Coriolans hand to hand combat training. He’d witnessed Sandrikov putting the same group through their paces over an obstacle course outside the base. It reminded him of his time training with Colonel Darwin and the rest of the Special Projects unit. He wasn’t sure why they were training the Coriolans though, it wasn’t as if they were expecting the Klingons to come marching in and start a ground offensive, and even if they were, the few Coriolans being trained wouldn’t be enough to make a difference. He wanted to investigate further, but the question was how. A quick examination had revealed voice print recognisers and coded key pads on the door, and the whole area was under the watchful eye of Sandrikov’s security patrols. He was going to have to come up with a very good plan if he wanted to sneak a look inside the high security area. In the mean time, he had another problem. Trip wasn’t sure how it had happened, but apparently Jerry had formed a friendship with him. Earlier that day Jerry had approached him while he’d been working on the injector assembly for the new warp engine, and shyly invited him to his home for dinner that evening. He’d wanted to let Jerry down gently when he refused, so he’d explained about needing to get permission from Colonel Andros in order to leave the base. Unfortunately Jerry had already thought of that and had obtained Andros’ permission for him, presenting him happily with a padd which contained her approval. When Trip had checked, Andros had gleefully talked about improving relations with the natives and how pleased she was to see that Trip was fitting in. Trip felt like shoving the padd down her throat. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Jerry, he did. He liked the young engineer a lot. He exuded enthusiasm for the work and it was infectious, everyone around him found themselves energised by his presence. His father apparently had the same ability, which was how he had become Premier of Coriolis. Not only that, but Jerry was really smart, and Trip often found that he gave him the answer to a question before he’d even asked it. Trip was constantly amazed by how much Jerry was able to learn and then apply to the project. Some days it was like he was talking to a younger version of himself, Jerry seemed to be becoming so accomplished at reading his mind. The problem was that Trip didn’t want to get close to these people. He didn’t want to step into their culture and start to get to know them, because the bottom line was that what they were doing here was wrong. It was going to bring war to a peaceful planet, or at the very least get them involved in someone else’s war. He didn’t like it, but then he didn’t have to like it. He was going to be here for two months, tops, and then he was going back to Enterprise, where people actually gave a damn about dragging nascent cultures into situations they didn’t belong in. He’d be able to forget all this cloak and dagger stuff once and for all. That was assuming that his conscience could stand having another New Copenhagen on it. Trip arrived at Jerry’s door exactly on time, determined to get this over with as quickly as possible. Jerry’s house was like the rest of the dwellings in the town, a small, half bubble of terracotta clay with a number of round windows around the circumference. Jerry opened the door and inside it was a cosy living room that was centred around an open hearth. A young woman was positioning low benches around the hearth area and the aroma of food filled the room. “Trip, I am so pleased that you have come to my home. Allow me to introduce my wife Eimiramitafen Matashiratinamen. She would be honoured for you to call her Eimi.” Trip smiled at Jerry’s recognition of his problems with Coriolan names. “Amy, huh?” Amy smiled and bowed her head. She had long, flame red hair that fell down across her shoulders in tight curls. Trip bowed his head in reply. “You know, I don’t want you to think that I’m being disrespectful. I can call you by your proper name if you like.” “No, no, you are our guest,” said Amy, offering Trip a seat on one of the low benches. “Obviously it is your custom to have short names and I can imagine that it must be difficult for you to get used to our much longer names. Tjearigeshearithen explained that you had simply used the first syllable of his name, although to us it means the name loses much of its subtlety.” “Is that so? Do they have special meanings then?” “Very much so,” said Jerry. He smiled at his wife. “Eimiramitafen means “fire that burns most brightly for the longest time”. Whereas Eimi only means “bright”. My own name means “honourable man of polite family and deep belief”. ” “Wow. Trip is just short for “triple”, because I’m the third in my family to have the name and I think Charles means “man” or something. I guess our names are a lot less interesting than yours. Is there anything that Coriolan guests are supposed to do when they come to a house for dinner?” “No, it is the host’s responsibility to cater for the guest in every way possible,” Jerry said. He was bustling around in the kitchen area of the living space, preparing pots of various dishes, some of which already sat on the hearth. Obviously once upon a time the hearth had been a real fire, but now it was a rather more sophisticated cooking stove. A shelf surrounded the circular stove and plates were laid out there, ready to receive food. “So you’re cooking tonight?” “Tjeari usually cooks,” said Amy, attempting a stab at the unfamiliar shortening of her husband’s name. “I personally am hopeless.” She poured a glass of a cool blue liquid from a crystal decanter and passed it to Trip. “I took the precaution of checking that everything we plan to eat and drink is compatible with your metabolism first though.” “I’m glad to hear that,” said Trip. “So what do you do for a living, Amy?” “I’m a doctor at the local hospital.” “I would not have thought to check that everything was safe for you to eat if Eimi had not reminded me,” said Jerry. “It’s nice to know someone’s looking out for me.” Trip grinned. “Anyway, it smells great.” Jerry brought the last of the pots over to the hearth. “Please, begin.” Trip didn’t need to be asked twice, he tucked into the dishes in front of him while Jerry explained exactly what they all were. It turned out that Coriolans were mainly vegetarian, although liked to add a bit of seafood to vary their diet. Trip was certainly happy with this combination and one of the fish dishes tasted remarkably like fried catfish. The meal passed very pleasantly, discussing aspects of Coriolan society. Everything about this alien race fascinated Trip and he began to remember once again why he loved space exploration. Although they tried not to talk about work for Amy’s sake, the conversation inevitably turned towards the new warp engine design. Amy smiled politely and did her best to ask sensible questions. She had some science training and Trip was impressed by her intelligence. Once the meal was over, she politely told the two men that she would take care of the cleaning up and shooed them outside into the garden that was around the house. Ostensibly they were to admire the sun go down, but very little watching of the sky was done and rather more drinking of the blue liquid that Trip’s hosts had provided in plentiful supply. “You have a beautiful home, Jerry,” said Trip, as he lay back on the red grass. The colours of the sun as it fell low in the sky were brilliant, casting pink, orange and lilac light across the sky. “I am honoured that you think so,” replied the Coriolan. “Why’d you want to leave when you’ve got all of this here? This place is beautiful and you look like you have a pretty good life. I’d call this paradise.” Jerry gave Trip a wistful smile. “The spaceman is asking me why I want to go out into space?” “I guess it does seem hypocritical, but humans are kind of curious about stuff. I’ve yet to come across another species that has our love for sticking our noses into things that don’t concern us.” “Maybe it isn’t curiosity we have, more of a sense of wonder.” “Whatever it is, you’d be better staying at home.” The universe was a dangerous place and he wasn’t sure that the Coriolans were equipped to enter it as a warp capable species. “The Klingons could come here,” said Jerry. “Then it would no longer be a paradise.” “Yeah, they could, but the Klingons won’t come unless you give them a reason.” Building a warp drive would certainly be a reason. “Isn’t it enough that we have a planet near their territory?” “I’ve known a few Klingons and none of them were interested in claiming territory that they couldn’t do anything with. Klingons live to be warriors and bring honour to their families. There’s nothing very honourable about killing weaker opponents for no gain. And Coriolis may be pretty but there are hundreds of other planets just like it that are nearer Klingon territory.” Trip knew that this was missing the point. The question wasn’t why the Klingons would want this planet, but why Special Projects felt the need to build a base here. He couldn’t say that to Jerry though; he obviously thought that the humans were doing this out of the goodness of their hearts, or at least in a united front against Klingon oppressors. “Colonel Andros seems to be convinced that the Klingons will come.” Maybe Jerry was smarter than he pretended to be. “Colonel Andros has got her own reasons to make you think there’s a big threat out there. How long has the MACO base been here?” “A few months now. It was agreed that the base would be established after they rescued some of our astronauts.” “They rescued your astronauts?” “Yes, we had launched an exploratory mission to the fourth planet in the system. Unfortunately there was a mechanical failure and it looked as if the ship was lost, until the MACOs stepped in and saved them. We were very grateful for the safe return of our astronauts. After that it would have been rude not to have allowed them to establish a base here. We see aliens as guests to the whole planet.” Trip pushed himself up on his elbows. “They asked to establish the base?” “Of course. We soon learned of our mutual distrust of the Klingons.” “More like Andros made sure you found out,” Trip muttered. He could smell an operation here. Special Projects didn’t rescue astronauts out of the goodness of their hearts. He would bet his ticket home to Enterprise that the whole thing was a set up to get a base on this planet. For some reason Coriolis was very important. “Your friends have helped us in many ways. You are training us in combat techniques, and now you are helping us to develop warp drive. It is a huge boost to our development as a space faring race. Certainly the Klingons have not been prepared to offer us any technology or help.” “That’s because the Klingons don’t want a threat on their doorstep.” If they ever found out about the MACO base then Trip didn’t think it would take them long to attack Coriolis. “How did you meet the Klingons anyway? Without a warp drive you couldn’t get out of this solar system.” “There was an incident, many years ago now. We call it the Jiordat incident. A group of Klingons crash landed at a small village, not far from here, called Jiordat. The villages welcomed them but were attacked instead. They were considerably more advanced that we were at that time and there was nothing we could do. Many Coriolans were killed and the Klingons repaired their ship and left without any apology. Ever since then they have left us alone, but it can only be a matter of time. They made it clear that we are on the border of their territory.” “That at least is true. I’m sorry that was your first encounter with them, but it sounds like the Klingons never meant to come here. Have you noticed many shuttles coming and going from the base?” “I am an engineer, if a ship lands at the base then I am probably watching it to exam its engines for clues to its propulsion system.” Trip laughed. “I used to do that down at Cape Canaveral when I was a kid, back when we were still launching stuff from there.” It had been a bit like train spotting but with rocket ships, and when Trip had been a kid some of them still were rocket ships. “Caypcanaveral?” “Just a place near where I grew up. What’s been landing and taking off here?” “Mostly just shuttles, but one day a larger carrier landed and took the Coriolan soldiers on board with Major Sandrikov. I don’t know where they were going but I was most envious of their transport.” Trip nodded. Some pieces of the puzzle were fitting into place now, but only if you had an understanding of how covert ops worked. “Did you see them come back?” “No, I was working at the Research labs for most of the rest of the week. They could have come back during that time. Why are you interested?” “Just curious.” Trip stretched. The sun had almost set. “You know I should really get back to the base.” “I will walk with you to the gates of the base. I have something that I would like to show you on the way.” “What sort of something?” “If I explain more then it will spoil the surprise.” “As long as I get back to the base before nightfall.” Trip said his goodbyes to Amy and he and Jerry walked back towards the MACO base. The road was dusty and quite rocky, not much traffic came this way, but it was only a few minutes walk out of town to the base. They walked in silence for a while, past the small round buildings of the town and out to the open country. Trip wasn’t sure how much to tell Jerry, but he knew that he had to protect the Coriolans somehow. The problem he faced now was that, if the Coriolans found out what Andros was doing, they weren’t going to be happy, and they just might make use of everything that they were being taught to start a war. Trip was remembering all the times in history that a country had trained soldiers in a neutral nation, only to have those soldiers turn against their teachers. He was surprised that Earth hadn’t learnt the lesson by now. “Jerry, I want you to be careful,” said Trip. “Careful? Why?” “There’s something else going on here and I don’t want you to get stuck in the middle.” “I think we are already “stuck in the middle” as you put it.” Yes, Jerry was definitely smarter than he pretended to be. “You don’t have to be. Talk to your father and get him to make Colonel Andros leave.” “Then we would lose the opportunity to gain the knowledge of how to build a warp engine. It’s worth too much for us to give up now, and we need you to teach us.” Trip shook his head. As far as he was concerned, he shouldn’t even be here. Every fact he taught the Coriolans was knowledge that they shouldn’t have. “You don’t need me. You could do it on your own. You just need a bit more time.” “Coriolis is short of time, especially now.” Jerry looked up at the sky for a moment. Trip put his head on one side, wondering where this was going and what Jerry meant, but he had already turned away. “Follow me.” Jerry headed off down a country lane that led off the main road. When Trip didn’t immediately follow he beckoned him on. “This way.” “Jerry, it’s getting dark, and I need to get back to the base or Colonel Andros will start sending out search parties.” “There’s enough light left for what I’m going to show you, and it won’t take long. Come on, it’s not far.” Trip sighed and followed Jerry down the ever narrowing path. Finally Trip could see lights up ahead. They climbed up a ridge and reached its top as the last of the sun’s rays fell across ground. They looked out over the valley below and Trip was struck silent for a moment by what he saw. Across the valley floor were pin points of light, that glittered as they reflected the dimming light of the sun. They split the light into prismatic rainbows, amplifying and refracting as each pinpoint picked up the colours of the others. It was quite simply beautiful. “This is amazing. What am I looking at?” Jerry knelt down on the ground and felt around himself for a moment before he found what he was looking for. He picked up a rock, and when he had dusted it off, Trip could see that it was actually a crystal. It was about an inch thick and as long as his hand. “At about this time of day, when the sun is at exactly the right angle, the light catches the crystals and they fluoresce like this.” Jerry handed the crystal to Trip. Trip held the crystal up to the light and watched with fascination as the light caught the crystal, making it shine brightly. He realised as he held it that he knew exactly what this crystal was made of. “Jerry, this is a dilithium crystal. Just how common are these?” “There are deposits like this one all over our planet.” Trip thought that he finally had his answer to why Colonel Andros was so interested in this planet. He was looking at a fortune in dilithium. If Andros wanted to start a war, then they’d need a fleet of starships, and all those starships would need dilithium. Trip curled his fist around the chunk of crystal as the last of the sunlight disappeared and the valley floor became dark. **** Trip stormed down the corridor, ignoring the strange looks that he got from the rest of the base personnel. He turned in to Colonel Andros’ office, paying no attention to her assistant who manned the desk in the outer office and tried to stop him getting any further. He pushed past him and practically knocked the door down, he was so forceful in opening it. Andros sat behind a large, well polished, wooden desk studying her computer screen. A map of the surrounding star systems was on the wall behind her and she looked every inch the field commander. “Tell me that this isn’t the reason we’re here.” Trip slammed the crystal of dilithium down on Andros’ desk. She dismissed her assistant, who had followed Trip anxiously, with a flick of her hand. “Have a seat, Commander. Did your dinner with Tjearigeshearithen go well?” “I want an answer.” Trip didn’t take the offered chair. “As an engineer you should know how valuable dilithium is,” said Andros. “If you want to build a fleet,” said Trip. “Despite what you’re telling people, we’re not at war.” “It’s always war out here.” Trip did a double take. Suddenly he was back listening to Rob Darwin say exactly the same thing almost a year ago on Enterprise. They had been on their way to stop the Klingons from getting hold of a weapon based on a black hole. Was it just coincidence that Andros had used the same words now? “Colonel Darwin said the same thing to me a while back. He wasn’t right then, and you’re not right now.” Andros gave a sharp laugh. “Who would have believed that Rob and I would ever agree on anything. You’re wrong, Tucker. A war is coming and I’m going to make sure that we’re prepared for it. Dilithium crystals are just a nice bonus.” Trip realised that Darwin and Andros must know each other, but obviously Andros didn’t like his former CO very much. That definitely bore further investigation, but right now there were more important questions. “What are you really doing here? Why are you training soldiers? Jerry said that Sandrikov took a group of Coriolan soldiers up in a transport. Where did they go?” “That is need to know, Commander. I could have you court-martialled just for asking.” “You’re using these people and I don’t like it. This was never what Special Projects was about.” “I’ve read the mission reports, Tucker. I know what Rob and his band of merry men got up to back in the good old days. You’re certainly not as pure as you like to pretend to be.” “That was a long time ago, and we never painted a great big X on a planet inhabited by a pre-warp civilisation on the border of Klingon territory. You’re inviting the Klingons to kill the Coriolans.” “What purpose would that serve us? We’ve spent a lot of time and energy establishing this base here.” Andros seemed completely unmoved by anything that Trip said and her face gave nothing away. “You know, I don’t give a damn anymore what your plans are. I’m leaving as soon as the ECS Vector comes back this way. Nothing is worth what I’m helping you do to these people.” “And leave poor Jerry to work out his own warp engine? I’m afraid I can’t allow that. The question is who do I have to threaten to get you to do what I want? Obviously taking Captain Archer’s ship from him isn’t enough. Maybe I should arrange for his mission to Andoria to have an unfortunate end, or perhaps your friend, the Vulcan Science Officer. What’s her name? T’Pol?” “You leave T’Pol out of this,” growled Trip. Andros smiled. “Oh dear, did I hit a nerve? Why would she be so important to you, I wonder?” She got up from her chair and wandered round her desk to sit on the corner. “The simple fact is that I don’t even need to go anywhere. Jerry and his lovely wife, I believe you christened her Amy, are much easier targets. You see, Commander, you’ve gone soft. You’ve got friends, people that you love, and that’s all I need to keep you here until your job is done. Your Special Projects experience should have taught you that friends are a luxury that you can’t afford. Especially since I might decide to extend your mission to the maiden flight of your little engineering project, if you don’t play nicely.” Trip’s eyes sparked with fury. “You don’t want to threaten my friends, Colonel. I don’t respond well to threats.” “Do your job, and I won’t have to threaten anyone. You are under my command and will do as I say. You’re dismissed, Commander, but you might want to bear in mind that next time you come barging into my office unannounced I’ll have you thrown into a holding cell. Are we clear?” “Yes, Colonel, we’re clear.” The words came out between clenched teeth. “Good, close the door on your way out.” Andros had already turned her back on him to return to her seat. Trip clamped his jaw shut on the tirade of bad language that he wanted to unleash upon the Colonel. This conversation had raised more questions than it had answered, and it hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. He’d been backed into a corner and, if he wanted to keep his friends safe, there was nothing he could do about it. He turned and stalked angrily out of his current CO’s office. His perverse streak refused to let him close the door behind him though. ****End of Chapter Five**** Trip passed Major Sandrikov in the corridor the next morning on his way to the workshop. A young corporal, whose name Trip hadn’t managed to learn yet, trailed behind him. There was only one thing in the direction that Sandrikov had come from and that was the Engineering Workshop. Trip put a hand out to stop him as he passed. “Major, were you looking for me?” “I was checking the security of the area,” said Sandrikov. “I conduct regular inspections.” “Personally, huh?” asked Trip. He could imagine Malcolm doing it personally, but Sandrikov didn’t strike him as the type. Sandrikov liked ordering other people around. “Of course,” said the Major impatiently. “Only I am able to give it the thorough inspection it deserves. Commander Tucker, I am on my way to another meeting and don’t have time to discuss this in the middle of the corridor.” “Don’t let me keep you, Sandy,” replied Trip, deliberately using the nickname. The Major stamped off down the corridor with the attending Corporal scuttling behind him. Trip made a mental note to check all his tools carefully for tampering. It would seem that Sandrikov had decided to repay him for the firing range. He entered the workshop and, as always, found Jerry and the other Coriolan engineers already hard at work. Jerry came over to him as soon as he entered the room and handed him a padd with the latest test figures on it. The engine was beginning to look good, but then after more than three weeks of hard work it should do. “The injector assembly is performing well and the overnight data is looking very positive,” said Jerry. Simulations ran overnight so that even when the engineers weren’t working, the equipment was. Trip scrolled down the padd. “Yeah, this is looking good. We just need to refine the intermix ratio and these figures will be within tolerance. Did you see Major Sandrikov poking around down here?” “The Major did visit us, yes, with Corporal Morrison. He was conducting a security check, I believe.” “Did he touch any of the equipment?” “No, but he spoke to several of us and checked our security clearance.” “What was Corporal Morrison doing?” “I am not sure, I was speaking with Major Sandrikov. Perhaps he was talking to some of the others.” “I want all the tools checked for tampering before we start this morning.” “All of them? That will take some time.” “Better to take a bit of time out of the schedule than have someone hurt with a faulty welding torch. Just humour me on this, okay?” “Of course, Trip. I will see to it.” Jerry went back over to the assembled group of engineers and organised a complete inventory and check of all the various tools in the workshop. It took them nearly two hours to go over everything, right down to the hyper-spanners, but it all checked out. In some ways Trip was disappointed. He’d been expecting Sandrikov to make his move for a few days now, and reclaim some of the face that he had lost to Trip’s stunt with the targeting computer. He knew that Sandrikov wasn’t smart enough to pull anything really clever, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. “Okay, guys. Let’s get down to it. I want the dilithium matrix calibrated and the plasma flow regulator assembly completed by lunch time. We’ll split into two groups, Jerry, Tim, Mary and Al you’re on the flow regulator with me. Jon, Carrie, Kat and Harry, you take the dilithium matrix.” After he had started to call Jerry by his nickname, the others had all asked him to give them human names as well and seemed to be rather proud of their new monikers. Trip wasn’t complaining, it certainly made his life easier and it kind of amused him. A couple of the Coriolans exchanged looks at the hard task Trip had given them to complete, but mostly they were used to his command style by now. He did expect a lot from them, but then he was very approachable when it came to their technical problems. He also always gave credit where it was due and listened to their ideas. They had all recognised over the past couple of weeks how talented their teacher was and had seen the amazing empathy that he had with the engine. His innovative solutions and problem solving ability were already being talked about in hushed tones of awe by the Coriolan engineers. In general, Trip had been impressed with how quickly the Coriolans had picked up what he had taught them. He’d crammed everything that he thought they needed to know into three days of classroom teaching before he’d moved on to look at the engine that they’d been working on. What he’d found hadn’t been that bad, although it looked as if they’d taken a turn down the wrong road and were building a prototype that would never have worked. He couldn’t blame them for that though, Earth had certainly taken enough wrong turns in their warp program. The teams he’d assigned to work on the plasma flow regulator assembly split up further, and as often happened, he ended up working with Jerry. They opened up the access hatch to the flow regulator assembly output and left Tim, Mary and Al to work on the input. He and Jerry definitely had the tougher task. They began to remove the pieces that needed special attention and took them over to the workbench that had been set up for exactly this type of close work. Pieces of the previous day’s projects still littered the top of the bench, mostly prototypes for the flow regulators parts that hadn’t been machined to the correct tolerances. Jerry had to begun to clear them away, when Trip noticed something. Sitting on the bench was a small metal box, hidden amongst the discarded parts. It wasn’t part of the plasma flow regulator and Trip didn’t recognise it. He could see strange jagged icons on at least one side of the box and he knew them from somewhere. He took out his scanner and was about to scan it as Jerry picked it up along with a couple of other pieces of metal. “Jerry, put that down and back away from the bench,” said Trip. Jerry looked baffled. “What is the problem, Trip?” He still held the box. “Now, Jerry. Everyone, out of here.” Luckily the Coriolans were quick on the uptake and all began to move to the exit without question. Jerry placed the box on the bench, and had taken half a step back when Trip’s worst fears were realised. The box exploded. He was pushed back by the explosion and felt a white hot pain across his chest. He fell to the ground, and just had time to register Jerry falling near him, before his head connected with the floor and he was knocked unconscious. When he woke up, it took him a moment to reorient himself. His first thought was that he was back on Enterprise and that this was sickbay, but it all felt wrong somehow. He’d become pretty experienced in identifying Enterprise’s sickbay after waking up disoriented or sick, and this definitely wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure that he could identify where he was though and the double vision really wasn’t helping matters. Suddenly everything came back to him in a flood of memories and feelings, mostly painful. His first coherent thought was that he had to find Jerry, the Coriolan had been right next to him when the bomb had gone off. He jerked himself up into a sitting position and immediately regretted it. His head reeled and he felt a little sick, which he knew meant he had a concussion, it certainly wouldn’t be his first. But he wasn’t going to lie back down and give up, he didn’t have time for that. He risked opening his eyes and found that although he was dizzy he could function. The skin of his chest felt as if it was on fire, and he looked down to find a bandage had been wrapped around his bare torso, probably hiding some shrapnel injuries. Streaks of blood had soaked through the bandage in places, so he knew that some of the wounds had to be deep. He looked to his left and found that there was a Coriolan lying on the bed beside his. Trip threw his legs over the side of the bed and found that his lower half was dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts. He didn’t really care at this point about modesty, but he supposed he should be thankful that he wasn’t naked. He shrugged off the blanket that had been over him and pushed himself carefully off the bed into a shaky standing position. He took the few steps across the gap between his own bed and the one on his left. “Jerry?” he asked. The Coriolan in the bed was unconscious. Trip’s vision was blurry but it was definitely Jerry. The one thing that really seemed to penetrate his befuddled brain was the red stains on the bandages that Jerry was swathed in. Bizarrely the thought at the front of his mind was the realization that the Coriolans had red blood, just like he did. He couldn’t tell where Jerry’s worst injuries were with his eyes refusing to give him a clear picture, but even so it didn’t look at all good, but then how could it, they’d both just been blown up. They were lucky to be alive. Just as he was trying to persuade his eyes to focus better, he was interrupted. “Commander Tucker, you should not be out of bed,” said a new voice. Trip lifted his head up to see a man in a white coat and he assumed that this was a doctor. He vaguely recognised him as one of the lieutenants in the MACO medical corps. “I’ve got to know if Jerry is going to be okay,” said Trip. He found that the doctor was at his side and already helping him back to his own bed. “Tjearigeshearithen will be fine. Although he has some healing to do,” said the doctor. Trip shrugged off the doctor’s helping hand. “How badly is he hurt?” “He had some bad shrapnel wounds on his body. I believe he was closest to the explosion. It’s the deep cuts on his hands which concern me most. We may have to repair a tendon, but until he’s awake we won’t know the range of mobility that he has.” Trip nodded and then it struck him exactly what this might mean. “Mobility? You mean his hands could be damaged for good?” “It certainly is a possibility, but right now you shouldn’t be worrying about anything. You sustained some nasty shrapnel wounds of your own, not to mention the knock that your head took when it hit the floor.” “Get me some clothes,” said Trip. The doctor didn’t immediately respond. “Now, Lieutenant!” The shout made his throbbing head hurt even more, but it was worth it to see the doctor dash off. He didn’t really agree with pulling rank for personal gain, but in this case he’d make an exception. He needed to get out of here and find Major Sandrikov. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was going to do when he found him yet, but he was pretty sure it wouldn’t be good for the Major whatever it was. It took the doctor a couple of minutes to return with a pile of neatly folded clothes, it consisted of underwear and a pair of green overalls. The clothes were placed on the end of Trip’s bed. “Commander, you really shouldn’t be going anywhere. If you leave the infirmary then it will be against medical advice and I’ll have to report it to Colonel Andros.” “You can do whatever the hell you like, Lieutenant,” said Trip, as he pulled on the overalls. “I need to have a few words with the Colonel anyhow.” He took a couple of tentative steps to check his balance, it wasn’t good, but he couldn’t tell if that was down to painkillers or the head injury he’d obviously suffered. “I must insist that you get back into bed, Commander.” The doctor stepped in front of him. “Lieutenant, you have two choices; you can either get out of my way or you can spend the rest of this week in the bed next to Jerry’s. Which is it going to be?” The MACO medic stepped out of the way, which actually surprised Trip. He doubted that he could have taken on the MACO in his current condition, but then perhaps it was more down to the doctor not wanting to have to harm his patient. He was pretty sure that he didn’t look as if he was on the top of his game at the moment. Then again, had he been trying this with Kanatova she would have just sedated him into submission, whether he looked like death warmed over or not. She had done just that on at least a couple of occasions and been completely unapologetic afterwards. “Good choice,” said Trip. He straightened himself up, trying to ignore the increasing spin that his head was trying to put on the room. He gave it a couple of seconds and then started his journey to the exit again. He left the infirmary and found himself in a corridor that he’d never been in before. This wasn’t a good start to his escape from the clutches of the MACO medical staff. He turned left down the corridor, took another left and a right, and found himself looking at a set of doors marked with bio hazard symbols and decontamination procedures. There were lockers with bio hazard suits arrayed along the wall of the corridor, with large glass windows on the opposite side. Trip could see various members of the medical team working in the labs behind the windows. Suddenly it clicked that he was inside the high security area, and he really didn’t want to be found here. If he’d been in better shape he would have considered investigating further, but for now he’d just have to make do with this quick look and come back later if he could. He carefully retraced his steps, trying to process what he had seen as he went but his head was still battling the concussion’s effects. He finally found his way to the exit from the high security area and back out into the main complex of the base. One of the guards on the door looked at him a little strangely, but then he was leaving the high security area, not entering it. He moved as quickly as he could, given his injuries, back to his assigned quarters, where he took out the scanner that Malcolm had given him. A few swift movements had the scanner in pieces on his desk. One by one he took the pieces and fitted them together into the phase pistol configuration, each slotting into place with a reassuring click. When he was done, he hid the small weapon in his pocket and left his quarters. He made his way purposefully down the almost empty corridor. He had no idea what time it was but it seemed that it was mid-shift and therefore everyone was busy somewhere. One of the MACOs in Sandrikov’s security team gave him a nod as he passed him in the quiet corridor, obviously unaware that he’d just escaped from sickbay. Trip stopped him with a hand. “Sergeant, have you seen Major Sandrikov?” “Yes, sir. He just went into the Colonel’s office.” “Thank you, Sergeant.” Trip headed off purposefully, glad that both the people that he wanted to see were in one place. He found himself once again bursting into the Colonel’s outer office and past her assistant. He could hear raised voices from the office inside. “You weren’t supposed to hurt anyone, Major, least of all the Premier’s son. Are you absolutely certain that it’s going to look like a Klingon bomb?” That was Colonel Andros, her commanding tones unmistakeable. “I made very sure of it.” The slightly accented voice of Major Sandrikov was the other part in the conversation. The iconography that Trip had seen on the side of the metal box made sense now. He recognised it in retrospect as Klingon writing and obviously it was supposed to make people think that the bomb had been placed by the Klingons. “You weren’t supposed to put it in anywhere important in the engineering workshop. As much as I hate it, we need Tucker and his damn Coriolan engineers, and we need them working as quickly as possible.” “Explosives are not a precise science, Colonel. I hadn’t expected the Coriolan to actually pick up the device.” “Excuses aren’t going to change the facts, Major, you’re responsible for this mistake. It was supposed to be a warning to keep Tucker in line, not kill him.” Trip threw the door open, pulling the phase pistol from his pocket as he did so. “I’m not dead yet, but you might be if you don’t give me some answers.” He stood in the doorway, aiming his weapon directly at Andros, even more angered by what he had heard as he had approached. “Commander, I thought that I had already made clear what would happen if you entered my office without permission again,” said Andros. She acted as if she didn’t have a gun pointed at her, completely cool in the face of Trip’s anger. Sandrikov in contrast did look surprised by this development but he quickly schooled his features into a neutral expression. His hand had made a jerk towards his own side arm but Trip’s equally quick shift of target made him think twice before he pulled the weapon. That was enough to give Trip the advantage and Sandrikov had lost his opportunity. He couldn’t get the weapon out of the holster and fired before Trip fired his own weapon. Trip stepped through the door and lent back against the wall. This gave him the advantage of getting him out of the doorway, and therefore being less vulnerable to attack from behind, but it also meant he could lean back and give himself some much needed support. Only last month he’d been hoping that he’d never have to think like this again, but he should have known better. “I guess you’ll have noticed that I’m not looking too good, and that means I don’t have time for games. I want both of you to slowly take your sidearms out of their holsters and place them on the desk. I’ve got you both covered, so don’t try anything you’ll regret later.” Andros and Sandrikov took out their weapons slowly and placed them on the table. Trip reached forward and carefully dropped them both into the waste paper basket that was in the corner of the room. “Where did you hide the gun, Commander? I’m intrigued that my systems failed to detect it,” said Sandrikov. “Yeah, I’m sure you are, but you’ll just have to figure that out for yourself.” Trip gave Sandrikov a smug grin. It probably would have come across as more smug if he hadn’t been pale and sweating. “I’m sure you’re aware that security has already been called,” said Andros. “This is a really stupid thing to be doing. You should be in the infirmary, Commander. I suggest you put down the weapon and we’ll call a medic to escort you back.” “No, we’re just going to sit tight here until you tell me what the hell is going on.” In truth Trip would have liked nothing better than to go back to the infirmary and have a long lie down, but he didn’t have time for that. “Do you really think pointing a gun at me will achieve anything? I’ve read your file; you’re not going to fire. You’re impetuous, but you’re not a cold-blooded killer.” Andros sounded very certain of herself. “I’ve got a lot of reasons to pull this trigger right now, so I wouldn’t test that theory if I was you. You’ve got troops coming and going, me building you a warp engine and the Coriolans think that we’re at war with the Klingons. What’s it all about, Colonel? My friend might never get the full use of his hands back again, so it had better damn well be worth it.” “Oh it is worth it, I assure you.” Her eyes were hard and gave nothing away. “You planted a bomb in my workshop. You knew some of my people were going to get hurt. The Coriolans aren’t here for you to manipulate in some game,” Trip snarled angrily. “This is far from a game.” Trip gripped his weapon tightly in his sweaty hand, focussing all his mental strength on watching his two prisoners. Just standing here was taking its toll on his weakened body and he wasn’t sure how long it would be before his legs gave out. “So far I’m not getting any answers, Colonel.” He needed Andros to get the message that he was serious. Trip set the phase pistol to stun and fired on Major Sandrikov. The MACO security officer crumpled, unceremoniously, to the ground, with only a mild look of shock on his face. He also now had the advantage that he had one less prisoner to guard. Andros knelt beside her Second in Command to check his pulse, but left him where he fell. “That was unnecessary.” “Not from where I’m standing. I already know that you wanted it to look like the Klingons planted the bomb, but why?” “Because the Premier’s resolve was waning. The previous group of Coriolan troops that we trained never returned from their mission. The bad press it gave him meant that he was thinking about withdrawing his support for this base. I needed to let him know that the Klingons meant business.” “The Klingons barely know that Coriolis exists,” replied Trip. “One incident, years ago, isn’t enough for them to declare war on a small planet like this.” “When are you going to understand that this isn’t about Coriolis, Tucker? It could have been any planet near Klingon space, Coriolis just happened to offer us an attractive package. They had history with the Klingons and were beginning their warp program. You need to look at the big picture or we’ll be facing another threat like the Xindi before you know it. That’s what the original Special Projects was set up to prevent, and if it had still been in place the Xindi attack might never have happened.” “Don’t you dare bring the Xindi into this. You don’t know what you’re talking about; you weren’t in the Expanse with us. This is about a pre-warp civilisation that you’ve just dragged into the middle of a potential intergalactic war.” “We’re trying to prevent a war between the Klingons and Earth. Coriolis is just one very small piece of the puzzle. We have evidence that the Klingons have increased their weapon development programme and are looking at new biological warfare techniques, specifically aimed at humans. We are the Klingons’ next target, Tucker, whether you like that or not.” “If you had evidence, we wouldn’t be here. We’d already be at war.” “We don’t have enough ships to take on the Klingons in all out warfare. We’re removing a problem before it becomes one.” Trip vaguely registered Andros’ words as something that had indeed complied with the goals of the old Special Projects Unit, but they had never done something like this. Yes, they had operated outside the law and done things that Trip wasn’t proud of, but they had never purposely put non-combatants in harm’s way. If people had been hurt because of Special Projects, it had never been intentional. He didn’t have time to contemplate this any further though, he could feel his body complaining that it needed rest and he was well aware that he was now leaning more heavily against the wall. “That doesn’t explain why we’re here or why you’re training Coriolan troops?” “I would have thought that was obvious. We train the Coriolan troops because if they’re caught then they’ll lead the Klingons back here. They’ll never know that Earth is involved,” said Andros. “The Coriolan ship you are building will be prominently seen completing its inaugural manoeuvres by Klingon observation posts. It will make them think that the Coriolans are warp capable and have been for some time. We are not here, and once we are gone, it will appear that we never were.” “Leaving the Klingons to occupy Coriolis and kill its’ people.” “If that’s the way that it works out, but I’m hoping it won’t come to that. Coriolis could still be a valuable forward outpost for when we do go to war with Qo’nos.” Trip realised that his mouth was hanging open but he couldn’t help it. The audacity that Andros was displaying was unbelievable. “You just don’t get it. Klingons kill people who cross them. To them it’s a matter of honour. What did you send those Coriolan troops to do? What do the Klingons think happened?” Trip’s concentration and strength were fading. His grip on the phase pistol was weakening despite his resolve to get answers. Suddenly the black edges around his vision began to encroach further inwards. The swishing sound that had been building in his ears, had now become a rushing crash of waves that threatened to overwhelm him. Everything went dark as he once again found himself slumping towards the floor without any strength to stop himself. His last thought before he completely blacked out was that he’d failed in his mission to find out what the hell was going on, but at least he now had some more pieces for the puzzle. ****End of Chapter Six**** Trip woke up to find that he couldn’t move. His arms and legs were tied down. His first reaction was to panic, and he pulled at the cuffs desperate to get his wrists free, but after a few seconds the events of earlier began to return to him. He gave up his struggling with a last, defiant, tug and limply lay on the bed, aware once again of sharp pain across his chest where shrapnel from the bomb had left deep lacerations. They had obviously decided that he needed to be restrained to keep him in his bed. He could see a guard had been placed by the infirmary door too, so they weren’t taking any chances this time. What the hell had he been thinking? Stupid, stupid, stupid. Yes, he’d been angry because Jerry had been hurt for no good reason, but he should have known better than to let anger dictate his actions. He couldn’t afford to be controlled by his emotions in a situation like this, it was too dangerous. It had to have been the combination of painkillers and a head injury that had made him act so impetuously. Not only had he now given away the fact that he had a weapon, a weapon which Andros now had instead, but he’d also given away his game plan. However, it hadn’t been a total loss. He knew at least part of what Special Projects were doing on Coriolis and he reckoned that he could make an educated guess about the rest. It was a like putting together the pieces of a mathematical equation. Dilithium crystals made Coriolis a planet of strategic importance, so it was better for Earth to be in control of it than Qo’nos. Obviously the Klingons didn’t know about the dilithium or they would probably have already invaded. It also made it worth defending if war was to break out between the humans and the Klingons. So, dilithium crystals, plus proximity to Klingon space, plus an opportunity to rescue some stranded astronauts, plus gullibility of the locals, had equalled a perfect location for a MACO base for Colonel Andros. The bigger equation that he was still trying to put together was why she had wanted the base in the first place. So far he had: MACO base near Klingon space, plus an incident with a warp drive (the one he was supposedly building), plus patsy locals, equals an excuse to go to war with the Klingons, but that definitely wasn’t all of it. There were other easier ways to start a war with the Klingons. If Andros had really wanted Earth to be fighting the Klingons then she would have arranged a more visible incident, and even she had agreed that they weren’t ready for war with the Klingons. Trip was missing something and it probably had to do with the lab that he’d seen after his earlier escape from the infirmary. He really needed to get into that lab to find out what they were doing there, but they’d be watching him very closely now. He was too damn tired for all this intrigue. He realised that he had no idea how long he’d been asleep for after they brought him back. He turned his head to look at the bed next to his, expecting to see Jerry still lying there but the Coriolan engineer was gone. Trip suppressed a brief moment of panic again, Jerry could not be dead, his injuries hadn’t been that severe. “You’re awake,” said a voice from the other side of his bed. He turned his head to see that Colonel Andros had entered the infirmary while his attention had been focused on the empty bed. “That should make this rather easier.” Her voice sounded cold, devoid of emotion, but at the same time she managed to convey that he was in a world of trouble. “Where’s Jerry?” asked Trip, his voice raspy. “He’s been released to the local hospital. They’re more familiar with Coriolan physiology and it allowed me to make the very public gesture of placing a guard on him. One order from me, and your friend is dead. I’m done playing, Tucker. This is my operation and you’re not going to screw it up for me.” “I thought you’d screwed it up yourself,” said Trip. “Injuring the Chief Engineer is going to put a dent in the schedule.” Andros laughed without any humour. “You’re a good teacher. Work is progressing without you and I’m beginning to wonder if you’re as indispensable as I thought. For the moment I’m going to assume that you still have something to contribute to the project, even if it’s only making it move faster. You’re going to be under guard, twenty-four hours a day. You won’t be able to go anywhere on this base without my knowledge.” “It doesn’t look like I’m going anywhere for the moment.” Trip gave an indicative tug on his right wrist. “It appears that this is the only way to keep you in your place,” said Andros and Trip didn’t miss the implied double meaning. She wanted him to submit to her command, but he was damned if he was going to make it easy for her. She placed a finger on his chin, her long nail digging into his skin. He shook his head to shake her off but she simply gripped his jaw instead so that he had to look at her. Restrained as he was, he could do nothing to stop her. “We had an agreement, Commander, and you broke it. That means that there will be consequences. The Vector with Major Sandrikov is currently en route to Andoria and I’ve just been itching to give him the order to deal with Captain Archer. Your former CO has been causing some friends of mine a few problems. I’ve told the Major to maim not kill, but you know how these things can go sometimes. Accidents will happen. You don’t seem to understand our relationship here so I’ll remind you again. You are going to build me a warp engine and if you don’t then I’m going to have you removed from Enterprise and kill your friends, starting with the pretty Vulcan lady and finishing with Jerry and his lovely wife. I don’t need to tell you that there are quite a few others on my list.” “I told you to leave them alone,” Trip snarled, pulling at his restraints again in frustration. “What happens to your friends is up to you. Major Sandrikov is particularly eager to try his luck with Commander T’Pol I believe.” “He wouldn’t stand a chance,” said Trip, defiantly. “T’Pol would eat him for breakfast.” “Yes, I’m sure she would, if she knew he was there. Major Sandrikov would probably prefer up close and personal, but there are other ways to kill someone.” Trip closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath. He clenched his fists at his side in anger, but he knew that he’d lost this round. He had to give in or Andros would carry out her threat and he couldn’t live with the knowledge that he’d been responsible for someone’s death, especially if that someone was T’Pol. He turned his head back to Andros and looked her in the eye. “Fine, you’ve got it. I’ll behave myself, but I want your word that you’re not going to harm Captain Archer or T’Pol, or anyone else.” “You have my word, Commander, as long as you hold up your end of the deal, but if you stray again, I won’t be giving you another chance.” Andros obviously felt that she’d made her point because she left without saying another word. However Trip realised that she’d given away something else, namely that the Vector was on its way to Andoria. He had no idea what that meant, but any information that he could gather was useful, even without a context to place it in. It warmed his heart to know that Archer was causing Andros’s friends trouble, even though he didn’t know what kind of trouble. Trip considered his position and failed to find anything good about it. He was beginning to wonder if Andros was actually mad and that, whatever her plan was, it was the product of a deranged mind. He remembered Archer’s insistence that he contact Enterprise if he needed help and he reckoned that this certainly qualified as needing help. He just had to work out a way to get a message to Enterprise. As with almost everything on the base, the transmitter room was high security and guarded all the time, which was going to make sending anything out extremely difficult. All messages sent had to receive the base commander’s approval before they would be transmitted, and Andros certainly wasn’t going to give Trip permission to transmit anything. He needed a plan, and it would have to be a plan that could be carried out whilst he was under guard himself. It was another day of lying around wasting time before Trip was allowed to leave the infirmary. During all that time they had refused to remove the restraints for anything other than bathroom breaks, which were conducted, to Trip’s minor embarrassment, under close guard. When the restraints were removed he was stiff and his wrists rubbed raw. Even then he was escorted back to his quarters for the evening and not allowed to stop off anywhere on the way back. Food was brought to him in his room, so to all intents and purposes he was under house arrest. Andros was taking no chances, despite his promise to be good. She had apparently come to know him quite well over the last few weeks. His enforced incarceration did give him time to think and he traced out the base’s layout in his mind, noting where the transmitter room was. He had never had Terri Arroya’s touch for getting into places unnoticed, but he did know that taking in his environment was key to planning any sort of break-in. Over the past few weeks he’d been memorising the floor plan of the base and taking note of when guards went where. Plus he liked to think that he knew a few things about electronics that could help him out here. He sat down at the computer terminal that was on a desk in the corner of his quarters. He ate as he logged on and typed commands, aware that everything he did was probably being monitored. He currently had enough clearance to be able to access some of the base systems but nothing sensitive and certainly not the communications equipment. He wasn’t a computer genius by any means, but he had always been good with machines and you couldn’t be an engineer in current times without knowing a fair bit about computers. First things first, he needed to blind anything that was keeping an eye on his terminal. He dug more deeply into the computer’s lower command levels and found a couple of spy programs monitoring the terminal. He broke them with a few well chosen commands. It certainly wasn’t anything fancy and if anyone was paying attention then they’d be banging on his door very shortly, but he hoped it would do for a short excursion into the network. It just placed more onus on him to get this done quickly. It took him a few tries to get from the low level systems into the more sensitive ones, but it certainly wasn’t as hard as he’d expected it to be. He would have suggested some upgrades to their security systems if he had been on the other side of the fence, but at the moment the holes in the security system were to his advantage. He guessed that security from inside the system was less of a priority than outside. Finally he found a way into the circuit diagrams for the communications system. He checked them over, doing his best to memorise anything that he thought might be important. He did this as quickly as he could and then exited the same way he’d come in and, once he had finished, he restored the spy programs so that no one would know what he had been looking at. He gave a slightly exasperated sigh. Everything that he’d just learnt told him that he needed to actually get into the communications room in order to get a message out. Any other avenues that he might have used to tap into the communications circuits were either too heavily guarded or too difficult to get to, for example sealed behind a bulkhead. Getting out the cutting gear was not an option, he had to do this stealthily and without anyone knowing that he’d sent the message. His first idea to simply hack into the system from his computer was completely out, it would have required more than his basic skills to get through the layers of encryption and security. He spent the rest of the evening going over what he knew about the shifts and guard changes for the communications room. He’d paid attention to these in particular with the thought that he might eventually need to get a message out. They were surprisingly regular and unchanging, which would have had Darwin seething, as anything predictable left the door open to attack. He had Major Sandrikov to thank for that and Trip was rather glad that he had made his life easier. After a couple of hours of looking at the ways into the communications room from every angle, he decided that he was too tired to continue and went to bed. His injuries were once again catching up with him and the wounds across his chest were pulling as they healed. He’d been given some painkillers to take but, given their provenance, he didn’t want to use them. He flopped down on his bed without bothering to get properly undressed, just pulling his shoes off. He was so tired that he fell asleep almost immediately. **** Trip awoke and glanced over at the clock on the desk. Its glowing numbers told him that it was still very early in the morning, and a check out of his window showed that dawn was only just beginning to break across the sky. He didn’t feel much like going back to sleep, his mind was working overtime, full of ideas for how to carry out his plan, and he never had been able to lie in bed once he was properly awake. Instead he sat on the side of the bed, yawning, peeled off the clothes that he’d gone to sleep in and went to run a shower. His morning ablutions complete, he dressed quickly and used the next few hours to put the finishing touches to his plan. A little later the guards brought his breakfast, which he finished rapidly and was then escorted to the engineering workshop. He had expected to find it in some sort of disarray but when he got there he discovered the Coriolans were already hard at work and the workshop itself looked as if nothing had ever happened. Immediately he was beset by questions from the Coriolans. Mary wanted to know why he had a guard with him, Al was concerned about Trip’s injuries and Tim wanted to know if they knew anything about how the bomb had been planted. Harry and Carrie were more concerned with the work that they’d done to the engine in Trip’s absence and whether it had been done correctly. Trip reassured them all and told them that it was business as usual as far as he was concerned. A bunch of Klingon saboteurs were not going to put a stop to the project. He saw no point in telling them what had really happened, with a guard listening into everything that he said it would have been difficult and he doubted that they would have believed him anyway. Trip set them all to work and then reviewed everything that had been done in his absence. He was pleasantly surprised to discover that almost everything was done correctly and to his high specifications. It was another reminder that the Coriolans were pretty smart and at most he was just speeding up their attainment of warp drive. It was a shame that he couldn’t let them keep the engine, but he’d have to worry about that later. He spent the first half of the morning making it look like he was working, and sizing up the Corporal who was guarding him. He then set about collecting up the things that he thought he would need to help carry out his plan to get into the communications room. He got the shock of his life when a bandaged hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around to find Jerry standing behind him, looking rather pale. “Jerry!” He couldn’t help but grin at seeing his friend alive and upright, even if he obviously hadn’t recovered completely. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in the hospital. How are you?” “The damage was not as severe as it was first feared. I should be well again soon.” Jerry indicated his bandaged hands, but he moved stiffly, which suggested that he wasn’t quite giving Trip the full picture. Trip took him off to one side, with the engine between him and the guard. “It’s not safe for you to be here. You should get out of here, go home, get Amy and go somewhere Colonel Andros isn’t going to be able to find you.” Jerry shook his head in the negative gesture that he’d picked up from Trip. “I’m not leaving you to deal with this alone. I remembered what you said about the Klingons only attacking places for honour or gain. It seems unlikely that they would bomb the engineering workshop. Colonel Andros is behind this, yes?” “Damn right she is, but I don’t want you getting any deeper into this. She’s gunning for me, but at the moment I’m still useful to her. I don’t know how long that’s going to last. You’re safe as long as I do what she says but I can’t let her put the whole of Coriolis in danger…” His eyes implored Jerry to understand. “In order to save Coriolis you must disobey her and she will come after us as way of getting you to do what she wants,” Jerry nodded. “I’m sorry,” said Trip. “It is not your fault,” said Jerry. Trip would have begged to differ on that front but he didn’t have time to argue with Jerry. If the humans had never come to Coriolis he wouldn’t now be putting Jerry’s life in danger. “What do you need us to do?” “Nothing, just get as far away from here as you can,” said Trip. “You misunderstand me. I know you have a plan to stop whatever Andros is doing. I have spoken to the others and we are all in agreement. How can we help?” Trip gave Jerry an appraising look, unsure if he should take up the Coriolan on his offer of help. He would be placing them in danger too but he really could use the help. “Okay, give me a couple of minutes and then I need you to keep the guard occupied while I cut the power. Things are going to go dark and I’m going to be leaving for a while. I hope I’ll be back before they get the power on again but if I’m not, I need you to get out of here as quickly as you can and get as far away from here as possible. Think you can manage that?” “It should not present a problem,” said Jerry, with a smile. Trip grinned back at him. “Let’s get to it then.” Jerry organised the Coriolans so that they were between Trip and the guard, and then he asked the guard to help him carry some equipment, which obviously he couldn’t manage with his injured hands. At first the guard protested but it wasn’t long before he had talked him round. Trip made sure that the guard really was busy and then went to the maintenance hatch in the corner of the workshop. The hatch led into the utilities conduits that ran throughout the base Trip planned to use it to mover around the base undetected. If he was right, he could follow the narrow conduit to his destination, the communications room. He pried the door open and climbed inside. It was a tight squeeze and on several occasions he had to push high voltage cables out of his way in order to wriggle through a gap, but he reached the junction box that he needed with little difficulty. His plan was to plunge the whole base into darkness, however a communication room without power was useless to him, so he spent a couple of minutes carefully rerouting the circuits so that emergency power, once activated, would only reached the communications room. With that task complete he threw the master breaker switch on the circuit that supplied power to the base and made sure that any other connections to the emergency generator were disabled. Of course this meant that the crawlspace itself was now completely dark, so he took out his flashlight, holding it between his teeth so that both hands were free as he continued to navigate between the cables. He opened another maintenance hatch and emerged into the corridor just around the corner from the communications room. As he had expected, the guards were still there, despite the blackness that surrounded them. These were highly trained MACOs and he hadn’t expected the darkness to be enough for them to leave their posts, but hopefully it would help with the general confusion that he was trying to create. The guards had small lights attached to their body armour which were a standard part of combat dress and gave a small amount of illumination to the corridor. As Trip watched, the door to the communications room opened and light from inside flooded out into the corridor. “Must be a localised malfunction,” said whoever was inside the room. “The coms array is still up and we’ve got light.” One of the guards briefly focused his attention on the occupant of the coms room. “C and C systems are down, and it looks like power is out across the rest of the base. We’re using personal communicators to keep in touch.” Trip ducked back into the maintenance conduit and grabbed some of the oily rags that had been left there in a pile in the corner. He threw them into a bucket that the cleaning crew had abandoned. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket that was normally used for lighting welding torches and put a flame to a corner of one of the rags. He slid the bucket down the corridor with a swift push and a few seconds later smoke began to billow out. The smoke tickled the detectors and the fire alarm started to sound almost immediately. Trip could now hear the guards shouting further down the corridor and crossed his fingers that his plan was working. “Evacuation alarm! Secure the room and move out! Now! Move, move, move!” There was the sound of boots running along the corridor away from Trip and, from his hiding place, he watched a corporal shut the door to the coms room and secure it. Like all the secure doors in the compound, the coms room had a keypad and voice print identifier that he would have to deal with before he could get in. At least the power cut meant that there would be no surveillance of what he was doing. Even though the camera in the coms room would have power, the recording devices that it was linked to would be dead. He waited until he was sure that the guards had all gone and then he took out the penknife that he had borrowed from the Engineering workshop (Andros having confiscated his own well loved knife when he entered the base). He found a piece of rusty pipe that ran along the utilities conduit and began to scrape the rust off into a small container that had previously held retrobolt washers. He had already collected some aluminium dust from the workshop earlier, which hadn’t been hard to find given the amount of grinding that was done on a daily basis to make parts fit. He mixed the rust and aluminium dust together until it looked as if he had about an even mix of the two substances. This was taking him back to his days of playing in his back garden as a kid and he’d first found the recipe for this mixture in an old book belonging to his Dad. He’d blown a hole in his parent’s garden lawn and had been grounded for a week because of it. He hoped that his current mixture was as good. He had made exactly the same thing here, a mixture of iron oxide and aluminium powder, officially called thermite, that would burn extremely hot and hopefully slice through the door to the communications room. If this worked then the grounding would certainly be worth it. He found a roll of duct tape and laid out a strip on the floor. He poured a line of his mixture along the strip of tape and then folded the tape over so that it enclosed the substance. He added a strip of magnesium, also purloined from the Engineering workshop, to one end of the tape and wrapped the tape around it. He then used another couple of pieces of tape to secure the strip to the door around the lock. He used the lighter again and lit the small piece of protruding magnesium. He didn’t wait to see if it had caught but just ran for cover. He knew that thermite burned very brightly and could seriously damage his eyesight if he looked at it, but it also threw off sparks of molten iron and he didn’t want to be in the way of one of those. Once he was sure that the violent reaction was finished he turned back towards the door and noticed that the thermite had happily done what it was intended to do. There was now a large hole where the locking mechanism had been. Trip easily swung the damaged door open and went straight to the communications equipment. It took him a few moments to familiarise himself with the set up, but once he’d worked out where everything was, he sat down at the keyboard and typed in the communications address that would get a call through to Enterprise. He nervously imagined the signal bouncing through various relays and deep space repeaters to get to Andoria, counting each second down. It seemed that it took a lot longer than the few seconds that he knew it was and he found himself tapping on the desk as he waited. At last the connection was made. “Commander Tucker to Enterprise. This is an emergency. Please respond.” “This is Enterprise, it’s good to hear your voice, Commander.” Trip knew that it was Hoshi who had picked up the call and was unbelievably glad to hear her voice, as crackly and far away as it was. “Likewise, Hoshi. I don’t have much time. Can you put me through to the Captain?” “The Captain and T’Pol are on an away mission. Just a second and I’ll put you through to Lieutenant Reed. He’s currently in command.” An image appeared on his screen. It was unmistakeably the Captain’s ready room on Enterprise, but it was fuzzy and pitted with static. He thought he could see Lieutenant Reed sitting in front of the screen but it was hard to be sure. For a second he wondered where Captain Archer and T’Pol were, but he knew that if there was an away mission to Andoria the chances were that the Captain would have wanted to go. Probably Reed had tried to talk him out of it, but when Archer set his mind on something it was almost impossible to persuade him out of it. “Commander Tucker, it’s good to see you,” said Reed. He was obviously noting the cuts on Trip’s head. “Are you okay?” “Malcolm, I don’t have long. I think that Special Projects are planning an attack on the Captain and T’Pol. Wherever they are, you’d better warn them and put a protection detail on them.” “Understood Commander, but where are you?” Trip was glad that Reed had decided to keep his answers short. “I don’t know exactly. It’s a planet called Coriolis, somewhere on the border with Klingon space.” “I’ll check the Vulcan start charts, it has to be on there somewhere.” “Maybe. Coriolis could just be what the locals call it. Look, I think we need Enterprise here. Andros has got something planned involving the Klingons and I don’t like where it’s going. She’s dragging the Coriolans into a war and threatening the Captain and T’Pol to make me help her. I think I’m in big trouble, Malcolm.” Reed gave Trip a wry smile. “You’re always in trouble, Trip.” Trip returned the smile. “Well this time it might be more than just me in trouble.” He heard footsteps further down the corridor, it seemed that he’d run out of time. “I’ve got to go, and I don’t think I’ll be able to get another message out.” “Understood, we’ll be there as soon as we can.” Suddenly Trip was being bodily pulled away from the screen and the connection was cut off. “You have abused my trust for the last time,” said Andros. “Take him to the cells.” Trip didn’t bother to struggle. He just let himself be led towards the cell block. He felt like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders now that he had a new piece of information to add to his equation: Enterprise was coming. ****End of Chapter Seven**** Kantev had remained cut off by the ice storm for over a week now, and it showed no signs of stopping. The weather was hampering their search and communications. Archer had been out of touch with Enterprise for several days and it was making him nervous. It also meant no possibility of news about Trip and whether Mayweather had any luck in tracking the transport ship that had taken Trip on his mission. He knew that Lieutenant Reed could handle looking after the ship but he still wanted to know that everything was okay. No doubt Reed was equally worried about the surface party. In general, tracking down the Telispa crewmen had not been going well. Every officer that they found had so far been turned up dead, some had died weeks earlier but notification hadn’t reached the central administration yet. In several situations it hadn’t been realised that they were the first cases of the virus. Four of the crew remained unaccounted for, one of which was the first officer, Lieutenant Talerez. Phlox’s search for a cure, for what was being called the Andorian Marburg virus, was not going well either. After several of the Andorians had seen news bulletins from Earth using the term, Archer had had to explain what the Earth Marburg virus had been. The name had stuck and was now even being used by the Andorian scientists. Luckily medical science was now advanced enough that the Marburg virus had been eradicated on Earth some time ago, but it had killed over three hundred people in the last recorded outbreak. The thing about the Earth Marburg virus was that it killed people relatively quickly, and therefore there were less infected people around to spread it. Andorian Marburg took longer to kill and seemed to have a long incubation period when people didn’t even know that they were sick. It also wasn’t really Marburg at all so none of the Earth research into that virus could help the Andorians. It had become obvious that Andorian Marburg was not completely native to Andoria, despite the label. That much Phlox was certain of, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it was actually from. He had made a breakthrough when he had discovered that the virus had elements of an Andorian flu virus and had assumed that the flu virus had simply developed a rather nasty mutation. Unfortunately it turned out that this wasn’t the case and the treatment for that particular flu virus didn’t work on the Marburg patients. The treatment had slowed the deterioration of some patients, so was helping a little, and was about the best that they could do for now. Unfortunately Shran’s brother’s condition was worsening despite the anti-flu treatment. Shran had joined in the hunt for members of the Telispa crew with his usual intense focus and determination, only stopping to visit his brother for a single hour each day. Although Archer always enquired how Prelev Shran was doing, Thy'lek Shran hardly ever gave him more than a two word answer. A gruff “no better” was about the most Shran ever said. It was now four weeks after their arrival on Andoria, and Prelev had held out longer than anyone had expected him to. Even after everything that had been done, it wasn’t looking good for Shran’s brother. Shran had arrived at the lab late this morning. He was obviously in a foul mood as he stormed in and bawled at one of the guards for some misdemeanour in the way he was wearing his uniform. Archer saw trouble brewing and went over to see what was going on. He suspected that he might end up preventing a fight, Shran was looking like he was ready to hit someone. “Shran, what’s the problem?” “Just a small matter of discipline,” snarled Shran. “He seems to think that taking his post out of uniform is acceptable.” The Andorian in question looked rather worried, but was doing his best to stare straight ahead in the traditional guardsman pose. Archer couldn’t see anything different about his uniform than any of the others. “His uniform seems fine to me,” said Archer. “His insignia isn’t aligned properly. It should be three centimetres from the top of the shoulder.” Shran practically bit his head off. “Shran, if it’s wrong at all, it’s maybe out by millimetres. Come on, let him get do his job.” “Fix it,” said Shran to the guardsman. “Yes, sir,” replied the poor, picked-upon Andorian. Shran turned away from the guardsman without another word and headed off toward the research lab that they had set up to help find the missing Telispa crewmen. Archer gave a sigh and followed him. “What was that about?” he asked as he caught up with Shran and they walked side by side down the corridor. “I told you, his insignia was in the wrong place.” “I’ve never seen you bawl anyone out for a minor uniform code violation before. What’s got you in such a bad mood?” “You’re not my keeper. I don’t have to justify my actions to you.” “You’re right, you don’t. I was asking as a friend.” Archer paused for a moment, wondering at the wisdom of his next question, but he had asked it every morning and why should today be any different? “How’s your brother today?” “He died an hour ago,” said Shran, stepping into the lab. For a moment Archer was stunned. Shran had given the news in such a matter of fact way that he wasn’t sure that he had heard correctly, but it explained his bad behaviour with the guard and general mood. The Andorian was several steps ahead of him by the time he moved again. Archer stepped up beside him. “Shran, you shouldn’t be here. Go home and be with your family.” “There isn’t any family. My parents were killed years ago in a Vulcan attack on our border. I’m one of four brothers, two of them are dead now and the third is away on deployment. We were all guardsmen and Prelev knew his duty just like the rest of us. I don’t have time to mourn him now, we need to find the Telispa crew and stop this plague from killing anyone else.” Shran’s hand curled into a clenched fist as he spoke. “I can’t believe you’re telling me that you’re just going to go back to work after your brother has died.” “I am an Andorian, we do what we must. I will grieve when the time is right, but not now. Tell me what I missed this morning.” Archer gave Shran a searching look but only a stony countenance greeted him. Shran’s eyes were determined, and unwavering. There were no chinks in his emotional armour. “You haven’t missed much. Still nothing from General Talas or the Vela Kari. We think Talas may not even be on Andoria at the moment, which would explain why they’re stalling. T’Pol is working several leads on Telispa crewmen in Kantev and has gone out with Marev to track down a possible sighting of the helmsman, Lieutenant Kan.” “Even if she finds him, he won’t know anything,” said Shran, with a snort. “We need to find Talerez. As Vettran’s first officer, she would have all the information we need, and someone she knows should break the news to her that her fiancé is dead.” “How well do you know her?” “Not well enough,” replied Shran. “Prelev never got a chance to introduce us. I just know what he wrote in his letters. I’ve already suggested that we check her family’s home in Kantev, but she isn’t there. She isn’t at her own apartment and she hasn’t responded to the recall we sent out to all the Telispa crew. The only explanations are that she’s dead or hiding.” “Why would she be hiding? We only want to help her.” “The Vela Kari are probably looking for her too. The better question is, why doesn’t she want them to find her?” “It suggests that you’re right about their involvement, and that whatever the Telispa was doing, it shouldn’t have been there.” Archer hadn’t wanted to voice this concern yet, but he felt he needed it out in the open. He wasn’t sure how Shran would react to being told that his compatriots were up to no good. “If the Vela Kari are involved then nothing would surprise me.” “I would have thought you’d be more concerned about Andorian security. The Telispa was probably doing some sort of classified work.” “You’re assuming that Andorians are as underhanded as Vulcans.” “Aren’t you?” “I know we are, when we want to be,” admitted Shran, “but for all we know the Telispa was wherever it was by mistake. The only thing that matters here is that we find a cure for this virus.” “And to do that we need Lieutenant Talerez.” Archer’s tone was emphatic, but in all honesty he held out very little hope that they could find the Lieutenant or that she would have the answers. “I only hope that when we do find her, she’s well enough to answer our questions. If she was infected at the same time as the rest of the crew, she should be dead by now.” Shran’s voice faltered slightly at the end of his sentence. Shran had continued to be surprisingly calm, but Archer could now see that it was a very fragile front. The Andorian’s hand shook slightly as he rested it on a lab bench. Shran was ready to break into pieces and sheer will power alone was holding him together. Silence weighed heavily between them for a moment while Shran struggled to once more conquer his emotions. Archer was unsure whether to offer help or remain quiet. He knew that the man in front of him was fiercely independent, extremely proud and stubborn as hell, but he was also grieving for his dead brother. Somewhere along the line he had come to regard Shran as a friend, and friends were supposed to be there for each other in times of need. This definitely qualified. Shran pulled in a deep breath and composed himself once again. His eyes shone with unshed tears that he wiped at angrily with the palm of his hand. “Shran, you don’t need to be here.” Archer meant it kindly but he suddenly realised that it could be interpreted as pushing Shran away. “I need to do something!” shouted Shran, suddenly angry. He suddenly turned and swept the equipment on the nearby lab bench onto the floor. Several pieces of glassware shattered as they hit the ground. Shran wasn’t satisfied with just this however and began to kick the pile of debris which now lay on the ground, stopping occasionally to throw some of the larger pieces of equipment across the room. Archer ducked as best he could, resolving that letting Shran get it out of his system was probably the best course of action for the moment. Eventually he decided that enough was enough and it was time to call a halt to the destruction. “Shran, stop it!” He caught the struggling Andorian by the arms and bodily manhandled him away from anything that could be thrown. “That’s enough.” “Let go of me,” Shran growled at him, and eventually he stopped struggling and Archer loosened his grip. Shran angrily thrust away Archer’s hold on him. They both became aware at the same time that someone was standing at the door watching them. “It looks like I’ve come at a bad time. I should probably come back later.” The retired MACO stood looking at the two slightly rumpled officers, making no move to leave. His eyes moved between the two men questioningly. Shran put a hand over his eyes and turned away from the MACO to lean against a bench. “Darwin, what are you doing here?” asked Archer, tiredly. He really didn’t feel like dealing with him at the moment and the retired Colonel’s timing was terrible. He had hoped to persuade Shran to take some time away from the search but he had probably lost the opportunity to talk now. “What do you think? I came looking for you.” Darwin noted the collection of broken lab equipment on the floor, and then ignored it. MACOs didn’t ask questions that didn’t need to be asked. Archer noted that Darwin’s permanent shadow, Ensign Tepiksel was lurking by the lab door, and had no doubt been given instructions not to come in. “I thought the conference was over?” “It is, but no one can leave Kantev while this storm is still raging.” Archer nodded. “Have you got some news about Trip?” “Not exactly, but I’m beginning to wonder if our two problems aren’t connected somehow. Correct me if I’m wrong, but you’re looking for a Lieutenant Talerez?” Archer nodded. “That’s right, but how did you hear about it?” “I’ve got contacts, and you’re not exactly being quiet about it.” Shran finally decided to join the conversation, turning swiftly back towards the two humans. “She may be the only surviving member of the crew of the ship that brought this virus to Andoria, of course we’re not being quiet.” “I think I know where she is, or at least I know where she’s going to be.” Darwin paused and seemed to be considering how to continue. “What’s the information that you’ve got?” “The Vela Kari have her and they want to get her off the planet.” “Then the Vela Kari are probably trying to cover something up. She must still be in Kantev,” said Shran, his interest obviously piqued. His previously drooping antennae were once again standing to attention. Darwin shook his head though. “They’re using another landing pad and they’re not taking her out on an Andorian ship. They’re going to be using an Earth based freighter, the ECS Vector.” “The Vector? That’s the ship that took Trip to his current assignment,” said Archer, realisation dawned on him as to what this might mean. Darwin nodded as he caught Archer’s eye. “ECS Vector is part of Colonel Andros’ Special Projects operation.” “Does this mean that Special Projects and the Vela Kari are working together?” asked Archer. “I have no idea what it means,” replied Darwin. “Earth wouldn’t risk the relationship that we’ve built with Andoria but Special Projects and the Vela Kari are a law unto themselves. They do what they like with very little oversight from either government.” “Damn it, Darwin, what I’m asking is, are we helping the Andorians in a cover-up?” Shran was saying nothing but quietly listening, obviously waiting for Darwin’s reply. Darwin looked unhappy. “I don’t know. My sources here are limited and we only have what we have because I got lucky.” “Which port?” mumbled Shran, in gravely tones. “Sorry?” Darwin hadn’t heard Shran’s question, it was said at such a low volume. “Which port are they using to get her off the planet?” asked Shran more loudly. “It’s a place called Greveldas Tro.” “I know it,” said Shran. “When?” “Tomorrow, oh four hundred.” Shran slammed a fist down on the bench beside him. “It’s not enough time.” “Where is it?” asked Archer. “In the mountains to the north of here, but it might as well be on the sun. We can’t get there with this storm still raging.” Shran was now pacing in a very frustrated manner. “There has to be a way,” said Archer. “Nothing is flying in this storm,” said Darwin. “The port authorities aren’t allowing anything in or out.” Shran stopped pacing and crossed his arms. “There may be a way, but we’ll need a good pilot.” Darwin laughed. “Archer, would you like to tell him, or should I?” Shran just looked at Archer. “Well, pink skin?” Archer was a little embarrassed, this wasn’t something that he liked to brag about, especially given how he’d got the NX-Beta test. “I used to be a test pilot. In fact, I was one of the pilots that flew the NX prototypes.” Shran nodded. “Good, then we might have a chance. Get your cold weather gear and meet me at the port in thirty minutes, both of you.” Darwin held up his hands. “Hang on a minute, I just brought you the information. I didn’t sign on for a suicide mission.” “If Archer’s as good a pilot as you say he is, it won’t be a suicide mission.” Shran dismissed Darwin’s concern. “Shran, what are you expecting me to do? Even I can’t fly in weather like this.” Archer was now a little worried that they were placing too much trust in his piloting skills. It was a long time since he’d been a test pilot on the NX programme and although he’d kept his hand in, he doubted his reflexes were as sharp as they had once been. “We don’t have time to waste discussing it, just meet me at the port. I need to call in a favour.” Shran was already out of the door and half way down the corridor before either of them could consider replying. That left Darwin and Archer standing in the lab alone. “Hmm, I guess I’ll be joining you then,” said Darwin, the ghost of a smile on his lips. He was obviously aware that Archer wouldn’t have invited him given the choice. “Shran tends to assume that his orders will be obeyed, even when he’s ordering about people not under his command. He obviously thinks that we need you and, on this occasion, I have to agree with him. You’re the only expert on Special Projects that we have available.” “I never thought I’d hear you say that you need me.” Darwin did look a little surprised. “Don’t get too used to, I doubt I’ll be saying it again.” He wasn’t going to let the MACO think that this meant that he’d forgiven him for everything he’d done. “What’s up with our blue friend?” Darwin indicated the door that Shran has just left through. Archer sighed. “It’s personal.” “If we’re heading out into a bad situation, don’t you think I should know why one of our team is acting a little strangely?” Archer grudgingly had to agree with Darwin, he needed to have all the facts at his disposal. “His brother died this morning from the virus. Lieutenant Talerez was his brother’s fiancée and he thinks he caught the virus from her. She probably stopped off to see him after the Telispa had finished its debriefing. We think she was one of the last crewmembers to be rotated off the ship when it arrived home, which explains why Shran’s brother was one of the later ones to fall ill. Everyone else who was on board the Telispa is either dead or missing, she’s our only lead.” There was a pause while Darwin seemed to consider what Archer had said. “We’d better not keep the Commander waiting then. I’ll meet you at the port.” Darwin left Archer by himself in the lab. Archer looked around at the destroyed lab equipment and wondered how he was going to explain this. Then he remembered something that he’d forgotten completely in all their planning. “Damn, what am I going to tell T’Pol?” he asked the empty room. **** Half an hour later Archer stood waiting for Shran and Darwin at the main entrance to the Kantev port. As everything had been closed down until the storm lifted, the area was completely quiet. The Andorians had well thought out procedures for dealing with the closure of their space port, and everyone who had expected to be travelling somewhere, or had ended up stranded, had been found a place to stay. They would be contacted when the port reopened. Arched had packed everything that he thought he might need for the trip, but at the same time had been mindful that there wasn’t a lot of room on an Imperial Guard shuttlecraft. He’d decided that a single kitbag, packed with a change of clothes and some other basic equipment, was all he was going to need. If there was anything unusual required then he was counting on Shran to bring it. T’Pol had not been at all pleased to hear that her Captain was planning to brave the storm to find the last remaining crewmember from the Telispa. Her own mission to find the helmsman had turned out to be a dead end. Lieutenant Kan had been found dead in the guest bedroom of his mother’s house, and his mother had been found dead in the next room. It was a depressing outcome and not one that Archer liked to dwell on. However it made his insistence that this was the only way to discover what was going on, even more compelling. T’Pol had been even less pleased to hear that she was expected to stay in Kantev while he risked his life. She had used all the logic at her disposal to try to point out that she should go with him, but Archer had made up his mind. He knew how Trip felt about T’Pol, even if he wasn’t going to admit it. The kiss outside the launch bay had been enough of an indication for Archer to start picking up on all the signs that meant Trip was falling for the Vulcan. If he allowed T’Pol to put herself in danger, Trip would probably never speak to him again and they’d only just repaired their friendship after their last brush with Colonel Darwin. This time T’Pol was staying behind. Ostensibly she was to continue looking for other members of the Telispa’s crew and attempt to wrong foot the Vela Kari, but Archer wasn’t sure if that would work. They were fairly certain by now that the rest of the crew were dead and it was only Talerez who had survived. It explained why they were so anxious to hide her. If she was the only survivor then she could also be the first Andorian who apparently had natural immunity, which made her a very precious commodity indeed. Archer also wanted T’Pol to try to contact Enterprise if the storm lifted, and let them know what was going on. In the mean time, she could assist Phlox in his search for the alien component of the virus. The more help Phlox had the faster his search would go, but without knowing where the virus originally came from it was like searching for needle in a stack of almost identical needles, everything looked rather similar until you got up close with an electron microscope. Darwin came round the corner carrying similar equipment to Archer, but had a large, long black bag slung over one shoulder. Archer decided that it was best not to ask what this bag contained, but knowing how MACOs (especially this MACO) tended to think, he was willing to bet that it was some kind of weapon. Ensign Tepiksel was nowhere in sight, and Archer wondered how Darwin had slipped away from his tail. It probably hadn’t been that hard a task for the ex-MACO. “He’s not here yet?” asked Darwin. Archer just shook his head. “He’s late.” “I expect that whatever he was organising took a little time.” Archer didn’t think that they could hold being a little late against Shran after the day that he had had, but MACO Colonels tended to expect military style punctuality from everyone. The two men just stood looking at each other for a moment. An uncomfortable silence stretched. Darwin stood straight, at parade rest, while Archer lent back against the wall behind him. He thought about trying to start a conversation but couldn’t honestly think of anything civil to say to the man. Finally Shran appeared through a side door that Archer had barely even noticed. He didn’t bother to greet them. “This way.” He ushered them through the side door. Shran was dressed in the Imperial Guard’s own version of cold weather gear. As with the rest of the uniform it was made of black material but had a hood with dark grey fur around it. His whole bearing indicated that they were in a hurry. He led them through the military area of the port, past large transport ships and small shuttle craft. Finally they reached an area that was enclosed by a high metal panel fence. There was a gate with a Guardsman beside it, who nodded at Shran in recognition as he approached. Shran typed a code into a keypad beside the gate and the lock disengaged with a click. The Guardsman held the gate open as Archer, Darwin and Shran passed through and closed it behind them again, the loud click causing Archer to check back over his shoulder. He noticed that there was another keypad on the gate so obviously a code had to be entered in order to leave as well. In front of them was a sleek, grey ship. Its hull was completely smooth and it looked as if it had been sculpted out of the metal rather than merely built. Archer was entranced, he’d never seen anything like it before. He went up to the ship and put his hand on the hull, feeling the smoothness. “What is it?” asked Darwin. Archer had almost forgotten that there were other people with him for a moment. “It’s the latest experimental surface transport, developed by Imperial Guard scientists to fly in adverse weather conditions. The Kasspin.” “She’s beautiful,” said Archer, still in awe. “Yes, she would be if anyone could actually get her to fly straight,” said Shran. “It doesn’t work?” asked Darwin, in alarm. “We just haven’t found the right pilot yet.” “Shran, I’m not exactly up to speed on my Andorian control systems. How do you expect me to be able to fly this if no one else has managed it?” “You said you were a test pilot, that means you should be able to pick up a new set of controls quickly, no matter who built them. This is the only way that we’re going to get out to Greveldas Tro in time to intercept Talerez, so unless you have a better plan, you’re going to have to fly this ship.” Shran went to some controls on the Kasspin’s hull and opened the hatch. “Come on.” Shran climbed inside, leaving the two humans standing outside. “This is a really stupid plan,” said Darwin resignedly, as he too climbed inside the ship. Archer took one last look at the outside of the Kasspin before he too climbed inside, thumbing the door controls once he was in to shut the hatch. He moved forward to the pilot’s seat and sat down. The Kasspin was about the size of one of Enterprise’s shuttle pods inside, with a very similar lay out. The main difference was that there were two seats at the front, one each for a pilot and co-pilot. Shran had already taken the co-pilot’s seat, and Archer sat down next to him. Darwin sat in one of the two seats positioned behind. He looked over the controls in front of him. “What’s so special about her?” “Her shape was designed to deal with high winds and storm conditions, and she has a computer program that’s supposed to compensate for poor weather conditions. We get a lot of bad snow storms here.” “No kidding,” said Darwin. Shran ignored him. He lent over and pointed at the various control interfaces in turn. “Thrusters, attitude controls, navigation, engine controllers, inertial dampers, air brakes, fuel cut off, scanners.” Archer nodded as each one was identified. Unfortunately all the labels were in Andorian, as were all the computer outputs. Shran would have to interpret for him there. “What about pre-flight checks?” Shran handed him a padd, it was written completely in Andorian. “Done.” “I’ll have to take your word for it.” He passed the padd back to Shran. Normally a pilot would perform all the pre-flight himself. In fact Archer would never usually have got into the craft without personally checking everything on the check list. The pilot was responsible for the safety of everyone who travelled with him and no one else could take that responsibility for him. This was an unusual situation in many ways though. He pressed a few buttons to get an idea for how they felt, and then activated the sequence that would start the engines. He took hold of the control stick in front of him. “Any tips?” asked Archer. “Don’t crash,” said Shran, dryly. He activated a communicator and spoke in Andorian. Above them the hangar doors began to open, revealing a white sky and a flurry of snow flakes that fell down towards them. Archer eased the Kasspin up off the ground, still getting the hang of the controls. He didn’t have time to really get to know them, he’d be out in a few seconds, into probably the most difficult conditions that he’d ever flown in. The ship was twitchy to say the least, which explained why everyone had found her so difficult to fly. The slightest move on Archer’s part was magnified by the ultra-fine controls. If he wasn’t careful, he’d flip her and they’d all be buried in a snow drift before he could correct things. The Kasspin edged up and out of the hanger into the snow storm. Immediately Archer felt the full force of the wind and had to hang on for dear life to the controls as the small craft was buffeted. He activated the thrusters and they moved forward, but the wind continued to want to push them sideways. “This is a really, really stupid idea,” said Darwin. “I don’t need a back seat driver,” said Archer, tersely. The Kasspin was moving diagonally and Archer was having to pull her back on course in a wrestling match with the computer. He decided to try to take her up higher and found that the computer assisted him in this, finding a path between the worst of the gusts of wind. Finally they were back on the correct heading and he was once again able to concentrate on keeping them flying level. The view through the windscreen in front of him was completely white, a seething, churning mass of snow flakes being tossed around by the wind. He was flying on instruments alone in a ship that he’d never flown before, but was well aware that in any other ship they probably would have crashed by now. Again the computer decided that it knew best and tried to move them off the course that Archer had plotted. He pulled them back. “Shran, the computer in this thing is what’s making it so erratic. Can we turn it off?” “There is a pilot override,” said Shran, pointing to a button under a small clear plastic cover. Archer flipped the cover open and pressed the switch. Suddenly it was as if whatever had been holding them up dropped out from beneath them, Archer grabbed the control stick with both hands, as they began to turn over. He was barely keeping the craft level and the wind was tossing them around like a leaf. He realised that the computer was doing a lot more than just pulling them off course, it had been stabilising the whole craft and compensating for the push of the strong winds. It had gone from being difficult to fly to impossible. “Turn it back on!” Shran reached over and pressed the button again. Archer breathed a sigh of relief as the ship once more evened out. “Let’s not do that again,” said Darwin. “Agreed,” said Shran, with feeling. “It looks like we’re stuck with a rather interesting flight path, but at least we’ll probably get there in one piece.” He decided to try something, and let the computer have its own way for a bit. He watched on the scanner as the Kasspin took itself around a particularly nasty weather front and returned to the previous course. The craft itself was flying much more smoothly and it seemed to work with the wind to keep its altitude level. “Shran, have any of your pilots ever tried working with the computer rather than pulling it back to the correct course?” “What do you mean?” asked Shran. Archer pulled up their course so far on the scanner screen. “This is our path so far compared to the course I set. This bit here is when I decided to stop fighting the computer and let it tell me where I should be flying.” The screen showed a wavy line that bumped in and out of the course in small zigzags for the first part of their journey, there was a small erratic blip which indicated where the computer had been turned off, and then long smooth curves that intersected the course line. “I think it’s finding a course through the weather cells that works with the wind gusts and conditions.” “It shouldn’t be able to do that. The program is just supposed to stabilise the flight.” “It looks like it’s worked out a better way to do it.” “It’s just a computer,” said Shran. “A very smart computer,” said Archer. “As long as it gets us there, I don’t care how smart it is.” Archer shrugged and turned all of his attention back to piloting. Even with the computer helping rather than hindering, it was still very demanding to fly. They flew on for hours, Archer getting more and more tired as he wrestled with the weather. The slightly interesting flight path meant that it was taking even longer to reach their destination than they had originally thought. Darwin had been asleep in the back for the last hour, apparently he could sleep through anything. It was getting late in the day and the light was fading, making what little visibility there had been even poorer. Finally, he caught a glimpse of the mountains in the distance. “It’s about another half hour’s flying to Greveldas Tro,” said Archer. “Wake Darwin and ask him what the best approach vector is.” Shran turned around in his seat and shook the ex-MACO awake. He immediately regretted he chosen method of waking him when he found his wrist grabbed and twisted painfully behind him. “Darwin, it’s me, Shran,” exclaimed the Andorian. “Sorry,” said Darwin, letting go. “For future reference, it’s a bad idea to wake a sleeping former Special Projects MACO by shaking him. We tend to react badly.” “I tend to react badly to being attacked,” replied Shran, bristling. “Quit it, you two,” said Archer, sharply. “If you distract me at the wrong moment we could end up under six foot of snow and ice. We’re almost there. Darwin, you’re the ground assault expert, how do we approach this?” “The storm should have cloaked us enough that we haven’t been picked up on their scanners. I suggest we park up in the mountains nearby and wait for morning. We can’t do much in the dark with the weather cutting down the visibility further.” Shran had turned back around in his seat and was scrolling through the scanner readings on the screen in front of him. He pulled up the topology of the region. “There’s a reasonable flat, sheltered spot just up ahead, between the mountains. We should be able to hike across to Greveldas Tro from there tomorrow morning. I’ve sent the co-ordinates to the navigation computer.” “I see it,” said Archer. “It’s going to be tight.” “Tight is good,” said Darwin. “If this storm does lift then we don’t want to be spotted.” Archer guided them in, cutting their speed as they came in and down. The mountains were close on either side of the ship, almost touching the tips of the stubby wings. He took them lower slowly, watching for any stray gusts of wind that could throw them into the side of the mountain. Finally he was able to set the ship down. Archer let out the breath that he had been holding, and allowed his body to relax. The muscles in his arms ached from the exertion of controlling the ship and fighting against the wind. He shut down the engines, and sat back in the chair. The heaters would remain on to keep the ship at a comfortable temperature, otherwise it wouldn’t take them long to freeze out here. They could hear the wind battering against the hull now that the engines were silent and it was obvious that conditions outside weren’t good. It didn’t bode well for tomorrow’s expedition across a mountain pass down to Greveldas Tro. Shran rose, and gave Archer an almost friendly pat on the shoulder. He took it to be recognition of his piloting skills. The Andorian moved to the back of the craft and the storage lockers there. He retrieved three packs of self-heating field rations and canteens of water. He passed them around. “My apologies that the food isn’t better,” said Shran as he sat back down and opened his own ration pack, steam rising from it as it heated through. Darwin tore his open, removing the fork that was attached to the outside of the package with some enthusiasm. He speared a piece of the contents of the pack and munched on it .“Actually, I’ve had worse, but still, you Andorians could do with a lesson in field cooking.” Archer followed suit with the other two. Despite being hungry, he was almost too tired to eat. The flight had really taken it out of him. He ate as much of the food as he could, knowing that in the cold he would require all the energy he could get and tomorrow promised to be a difficult day. Darwin and Shran seemed to be having an involved conversation about horrible alien food that they had tried, but Archer couldn’t bring himself to join in with any enthusiasm, even though he had his own catalogue of alien delicacies to regale them with. He got to his feet and stretched. “I’m turning in.” “Turning in?” asked Shran. “Turning what in?” “It’s a human way of saying going to bed,” said Archer. “Every time I deal with humans I realise that you’re more strange than I thought. There are thermal sleeping bags in the back. There should be enough room for all of us to sleep on the floor.” Archer nodded tiredly and went to select a sleeping bag. He laid it out on the floor and climbed in, removing only his jacket to make himself a little more comfortable. He rolled it up and used it as a pillow under his head. He wouldn’t have believed that it was possible, given how uncomfortable the floor was, but he fell asleep almost instantly. The sounds of Shran and Darwin still talking weren’t enough to keep him awake. ****End of Chapter Eight****   Rob Darwin had never had any trouble sleeping. He’d slept in war zones, on troop transports, on Andorian cruisers and in jail cells. He never had any difficulty sleeping the night before a mission or if he knew he had a busy day ahead. He told his body that it was time to sleep and he did, it was as simple as that. It was ironic then that he found himself lying awake now, listening to snow being blown against the hull and wind whistling around the rocks nearby. The storm outside was obviously still blowing fiercely and his hopes for better weather were forlorn. It was early in the morning and the fingers of dawn were just beginning to show through the snow. Both Shran and Archer were still sleeping, although the Andorian in particular didn’t seem to have had a restful night. He gave up trying to get back to sleep, unzipped the sleeping bag and pulled on his jacket. The ship was heated but in order to conserve energy it wasn’t kept particularly warm. He got up, deciding that moving around was the best way to get warm. He dug through the supplies that Shran had brought and found a small stove, complete with cooking pots to use with it. He poured the contents of a water canteen into one of the pots and began to boil the water. He got out his own backpack and found the coffee that he always took with him on field missions. Coffee was rather a precious commodity now that he was permanently living on Andoria. He hadn’t found anything that Andorians drank that replaced it for caffeine content or tasted as good. He grabbed a padd with a map of the area on it and began to work on their route to Greveldas Tro while the water boiled. He carefully measured out a spoon of the precious coffee into the mug, resealing the rest in its container. He added the water and savoured the fresh coffee smell. He would have liked to add milk but Andoria didn’t have any cows. He didn’t mind black coffee and he’d got used to it over the last couple of months. He wasn’t quite sure what he’d do when his current coffee supply ran out. He picked up the padd again as he sipped his coffee and looked over the schematic of the buildings around the landing padd. He’d had to twist a few arms to get these plans but it had been worth it. Greveldas Tro was an Andorian military outpost that had been built on the site of an old mining village. They had been focused on getting here in time but hadn’t given much thought to how three men were going to storm a Vela Kari base and get Talerez out. Archer had only brought a single phase pistol, which in Darwin’s opinion was foolhardy. He had a small armoury of weapons on his person and he wished that he’d been able to bring more. He knew Shran had weapons stashed on the ship, so at least the Andorian was sensible, but he often wondered how Archer had managed to survive this long. He suspected that having Trip along for the ride had improved his survival odds substantially. A rustling sound indicated that one of his other companions was also waking. He looked up to see Archer unzipping his sleeping bag, unrolling his jacket from where it had been used as a makeshift pillow and pulling it on over his crumpled uniform. A few millimetres of stubble graced his chin, making him look a little older and less like the Starfleet poster boy that Darwin knew he was. He often wondered if things would have been different if he had met Archer under different circumstance, perhaps they would have respected each other’s approaches to life if they’d just met in the 602 club and gotten talking. In some ways he did respect Archer’s way of doing things, and he admired him for his tenacity in believing that all situations could be solved with words first and weapons second. He wished that the universe was like that, but knew from experience that it wasn’t. After the Xindi conflict, he would have thought that Archer would have known it too. “Is that coffee I smell?” asked Archer, sleepily. Darwin smiled, at least he and Archer could agree on the merits of some things. “Would you like a cup?” “I’d love one. The Andorians don’t really seem to do anything like coffee.” Darwin found another mug and made a cup of coffee for the Starfleet Captain. “I hope you realise that this is my private stash that you’re taking from me. I brought it with me when I shipped out from Earth.” “I’m sure Enterprise could spare some from the inventory, although with the amount the crew drinks, you might be out of luck,” replied Archer, receiving the cup of steaming liquid gratefully. “You’re up early.” Darwin indicated the padd. “I’m planning our attack strategy. We can’t go waltzing in to Greveldas Tro without some sort of plan.” “Let me guess, you want us to shoot our way in?” Archer’s voice had a tone of exasperation about it. “Not unless you want the whole place to know that we’re there. I’ve infiltrated more enemy bases than I can count and very few have involved shooting our way in.” “What exactly is Greveldas Tro?” asked Archer. “You came on this mission without even knowing what you were getting yourself into?” Darwin couldn’t quite believe that Archer really didn’t know what Greveldas Tro was. “It seemed like it was more important to get moving quickly than to stand around asking questions,” said Archer, crossly. “It’s the Vela Kari base of operations. It’s existence is a closely guarded secret and it’s probably the most difficult place to break into on the whole of Andoria.” Darwin mentally added a point to his score card for getting one up on Archer. Unfortunately his small victory was spoilt by Archer’s lack of reaction to his revelation. “So what do you plan to do?” “That’s the bit I’m not sure about. This is a Vela Kari base, so security is going to be tight, and instead of a crack team of Special Project MACOs, handpicked for the assignment, I have you and Shran.” “I’m not sure I find that particularly reassuring,” said Archer. “We’re supposed to be leaving in a couple of hours to start hiking down to Greveldas Tro and you still don’t know how we’re going to get in.” “Look, this is my area of expertise, so just have a little patience. This is why Shran wanted me along for the ride. I’ll figure something out.” “Well you’d better figure it out soon.” “I don’t tell you how to fly, so don’t tell me how to break into an alien base.” “Archer, leave the man alone to do his work,” came a voice from the back of the ship. Darwin realised that Shran had woken up. The Andorian was climbing out of his sleeping bag and pulling on his jacket, even though, of the three of them, he was most used to the cold. “Coffee?” asked Darwin. Shran shook his head vigorously. “It smells terrible. I’ll stick with my rations.” Darwin noticed Archer giving a shrug at the Andorian’s choice, but neither of them said anything as Shran dug into his breakfast. “There’s only one way we’re going to get in here and that’s to be invited,” said Darwin. “And how are we supposed to get invited?” asked Archer. “Well, we have one Andorian and one human the Vela Kari would really like to get their hands on.” Darwin looked pointedly at Archer. “Me?” asked Archer. “Why would they want to get their hands on me?” “You’re the one who’s looking into the virus. They know that you’re going to be looking for the only surviving Andorian and that they have her. It makes sense that you’ll be poking around their base.” “There’s a problem with your plan,” said Shran. “I’m not Vela Kari.” “No, but you’re in an Imperial Guard uniform, and you’ll have a prisoner. It should buy us enough time to get you and Archer in.” “This is your plan?” asked Archer, starting to get angry. “I pretend to be Shran’s prisoner? Hasn’t this one been done a few times before?” “If I had Trip with me then I’d suggest hot wiring the security system, but unfortunately we don’t have any genius engineers handy, so we’ll just have to make do,” said Darwin. He noted Archer’s annoyance at his bringing up the fact that they still had no idea where Trip was, but he ignored it. Archer still needed to be taken down a peg or two in his estimation. “Even on Andoria this is rather a well known ruse,” said Shran. Archer was pacing around the ship now. “And what happens when we get inside? They’re going to want to put me in a cell. Probably interrogate me. I thought you said that you were good at this sort of thing. So far I’m not seeing how this is going to work if you need to break me out as well as Talerez.” “You’ve missed the point, Captain. We need them to take you to the cells because that’s probably where they have Talerez.” Darwin finished his coffee in a final gulp. “What makes you think that Talerez is in the cells? She might want to be there,” said Shran. “They’re arranging for her to leave the planet.” “Shran, I don’t think she would have left your brother to die alone if she’d had a choice.” “He didn’t die alone,” Shran spat. “I was there for him, even if she wasn’t.” “Darwin does have a point, Shran,” said Archer. “She must have known that your brother was sick.” “Maybe she ran out on him,” said Shran. “You’re the only one of us who even has an idea of what she might do,” said Darwin. “It’s your call. Is she in on this? Is she Vela Kari?” Shran bowed his head. He screwed his eyes shut for a moment before he shook his head. “No, Sharas always spoke very highly of her, she was his First Officer for years. She’s not Vela Kari material. She would have been loyal to Prelev. I can’t believe that she’d just walk out on him, unless she had to.” “Then it’s decided,” said Darwin. “We follow my plan.” “We’ve only heard half of it. How do we get out again?” asked Archer. “You’re going to have to leave that part to me,” said Darwin, handing Archer the padd that he’d been working on. Archer read the padd and then looked up at Darwin. “I hope you know what you’re doing.” “It’ll be a piece of cake,” said Darwin, with a grin. He was going to enjoy this, it was just like old times. **** Shran, Darwin and Archer set off down the mountain pass to Greveldas Tro after they had worked out the fine details of their plan. A snow storm was still whirling around them, but it was considerably less heavy than it had been for the past few days, and with a scanner to guide them, there was little chance of them getting lost. It took them the best part of two hours to walk down the mountain and arrive at their destination. If they had parked the Kasspin any closer then it would have risked being detected by the base on their regular security sweeps, but knowing that didn’t help Archer’s mood any. They knew that the ECS Vector was expected that afternoon to remove Lieutenant Talerez, so that gave them about five hours to break her out. If Darwin’s plan worked as expected then they had plenty of time, but Archer seriously doubted that everything would go smoothly, he’d had too much experience of this sort of thing. “No plan survives contact with the enemy,” Darwin had told them, trotting out the old quote. Shran hadn’t heard it before, but Archer was intimately acquainted with the maxim. In fact, they had done their best to plan for every eventuality, all the time aware that the Vela Kari were very dangerous. The three of them stopped just behind the crest of a hill that was part of a low range that surrounded the Vela Kari outpost. Unusually for a structure on Andoria, this was built above the ground. They lay on the ground, looking down at the warning signs and high fences around Greveldas Tro, which concealed weapons, heat sensors and regular guard patrols. Darwin was examining the defences more closely with a pair of binoculars that he’d brought with him. A track led up to the main gates and as they watched, a six wheeled vehicle appeared from between the mountains and rumbled along the track. It reached the gates and was admitted after a thorough inspection. “Regular supply truck,” said Shran, his voice barely audible above the wind. “Exactly on time,” replied Darwin. “Let’s hope that everything else in this place works that way. That’s your cue, Shran, Archer. Get going.” “Give me your wrists,” said Shran, getting out a set of handcuffs. “Do I really have to wear these things?” asked Archer. They’d already discussed this part of the plan and Archer had objected then to no avail, but he was hoping that they’d relent at the last minute. “Yes,” Shran replied, gruffly. “It won’t look realistic unless you’re cuffed.” “Good luck,” said Darwin, as Shran pulled the now cuffed Archer to his feet and the two began their walk down the incline. “You too,” replied Archer. He really meant it as well. All their lives depended on Darwin’s plan going off without a hitch. He stumbled a couple of times as they walked. Without his arms free to give him balance he was going to find it difficult to walk through the deep snow, and Shran had to give him a little support under the arm to keep him upright occasionally. Shran had his gun out and was jamming it into Archer’ ribs occasionally to add the finishing touch to the effect that they were trying to create. “Do you have to do that so hard?” snarled Archer through the side of his mouth. “You want this to look real, don’t you? As far as I’m concerned, you’re snooping, pink skin, scum. I’m not going to treat you like royalty.” “Just don’t do it so hard. I’d like to be able to walk home at the end of this.” “Be quiet, or I’ll carry you into the base unconscious,” said Shran. Archer was beginning to wonder if the Andorian was getting into his part too well. They reached the gate and were instantly spotted by the guards, who although they were behind the high fences, could see them clearly on their heat sensing equipment. Nothing was going to get near the fence without being detected. Darwin had already flagged this as one of his reasons for going for the direct approach “Hold it. Stay where you are and state your business,” said a voice from a loudspeaker. “I’m Commander Shran. I have a prisoner. I followed him here from Kantev.” They waited a moment, snow falling on their shoulders and around their feet. Suddenly the gate opened and four Andorians, dressed in Imperial Guard uniforms, their hoods up against the weather, and with Andorian rifles in their hands, ran out and shepherded them inside. They were kept covered by at least one weapon at all times and Archer was already having grave doubts about their plan. Inside the compound, the hoods were thrown back and snow was shaken off. Weapons still remained trained on the two visitors and hadn’t wavered for a second. The lights were dim, casting shadows across the faces of the Andorians. One of them wore the rank insignia of a Captain. “Identify yourself, Commander,” said the Captain. “Commander Shran, of the battle cruiser Kumari.” Shran pulled himself up to his full height. “What are you doing here, Commander Shran?” asked the Captain. Archer didn’t think that it was a coincidence that he hadn’t introduced himself or any of his men. These Andorians were not going to give anything away that they didn’t have to. “I followed him,” said Shran, jabbing Archer in the side with his pistol. “Hey, watch what you’re doing with that,” said Archer, trying to play the part of an aggrieved captive. “Don’t listen to him, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” “Be quiet or you’ll be dead,” said the Vela Kari Captain. “How did you know that he was coming here?” “I heard him talking about it with his Vulcan collaborator. He was here to steal secrets from the Vela Kari,” said Shran. “He came alone?” “Yes, he was hoping that a single man could get through your security.” “I commend your diligence, Commander, but what made you think that we wouldn’t be able to deal with a loan human?” There was a dangerous edge to the Captain’s tone. “I had hoped to warn you of his arrival by radio but the storm has been causing communication difficulties. Following him here was my only option. I assumed that you’d welcome the help of a fellow Andorian when it came to capturing Captain Jonathan Archer of the Earth ship Enterprise.” Archer thought several swear words at Shran. They weren’t supposed to know who he was. This was going to complicate things, even if it increased Shran’s reputation in the eyes of the Vela Kari Captain. “Archer of Enterprise,” said the Captain with renewed interest, looking his prisoner up and down with something in his eyes that Archer didn’t like at all. “Yes, I can imagine that he’d be arrogant enough to try this on his own. You have become a thorn in our side these last few weeks, Captain.” Suddenly he lashed out with a fist and struck Archer across the mouth. “What would Enterprise do if its Captain died in an accident, crashed his ship in the snow storm maybe? Perhaps they would leave us alone and go and find another planet to interfere with.” Archer reeled from the blow, but a strategic push from Shran kept him upright. He felt a trickle of blood run down his chin from the corner of his mouth. He would have reached up to stem the flow but with his hands cuffed behind his back that wasn’t really an option. He settled for merely glaring at the, still unidentified, Captain. Shran hadn’t even winced on his behalf and, for once, Archer was glad of the stoic, unemotional façade that Shran liked to show the world. “Kill him,” said the Captain to the nearest of the guardsmen. There was the sound of a rifle being cocked ready to fire and Archer held his breath, waiting for the moment when everything was over. “Wait, don’t you want to question him? Find out why he’s here?” asked Shran. “I don’t need to know why he’s here. He’s a nuisance and he now knows the location of this base.” “But he probably has knowledge of the human weaponry, their ship movements.” “If I want to know the movements of the human ships I have a far better source of information, and their weaponry hardly measures up to ours. It’s better that we get rid of him now. We can dump him in his ship and then make it look like he crashed.” “He might also know useful information about the Vulcans, after all they are meant to be allies,” said Shran, enticingly. “And it might be useful to know how he found out about Greveldas Tro in the first place. You could have a security breach, Captain.” That gave the Captain pause for thought. He grunted. “You may have something there, Commander. Take him to the cells, I’ll question him later.” Shran and Archer exchanged a quick glance. Archer was aware that they’d just got through the first test of probably several to come. He wasn’t sure who was now going to be in more danger. As soon as the Captain could, he’d be checking out Shran’s credentials, and if they discovered that Prelev Shran had planned to marry Talerez then it could just be game over for them both. The coincidence of Shran’s arrival at Greveldas Tro when Talerez was about to be taken off planet would be too much for them to retain a believable cover. However the plan rested on them being able to find Lieutenant Talerez and that she would be willing to escape with them, something that was definitely not a foregone conclusion. Archer was pushed out of the room and down a long corridor by two Andorian guards. At the end of the corridor was an elevator and the doors opened automatically for them as they approached. The Andorians indicated for him to get in and they descended several levels below the surface complex. This was another problem as far as their plan was concerned, there had been no indication in any of the information that they had gathered that Greveldas Tro went so far underground. However they were completely sure that the elevators would be shut down as a security measure once the alarm was raised. There was an extensive cell block under the main compound, which made Archer groan inwardly again. He was never going to be able to find Talerez as quickly as they needed. He was searched reasonably thoroughly and they removed his coat, the handcuffs, and anything else that looked as if it might be useful or dangerous, including his communicator. As he was thrown into one of the cells, he would have given anything for Lieutenant Reed and a few of his Security team to be waiting outside for him rather than Colonel Darwin. He also wished that Trip was with him, which seemed a little selfish on the face of it, but no one was better at breaking out of cells than his Chief Engineer. He hoped that, wherever Trip was, he was having a better time of it than he was. He looked around the small cell that he’d been placed in. It had grey walls and a metal door, that the guards had activated with a coded key pad. He began looking for an access panel, or any way that he could reach the wiring, but there didn’t appear to be one. “How the hell does Trip do this sort of thing?” muttered Archer, as he searched the door for anything that could help him. Trip would have probably put together something to open the door from thin air and spit. Archer wasn’t that gifted, and Darwin hadn’t pretended otherwise, so he’d provided him with another method of escape. He unlaced his right boot and pulled it off. He reached inside and found the roll of wire-thin explosive material that Darwin had given him before they left that morning. It was a composite material that once removed from its packaging and exposed to the air would begin an explosive reaction. Importantly it was also undetectable by Andorian scanning frequencies, which was how Darwin had smuggled it on to Andoria in the first place. Darwin had revealed that he’d been an explosives expert in his earlier MACO career. This didn’t surprise Archer. It rather fitted with Darwin’s personality and his approach to breaking out of places. However they had both hoped that Archer could avoid using the explosives, as it was going to draw a lot of attention to his escape. Unfortunately Archer couldn’t see any other way to do it. The next part of their plan Archer really didn’t like. He sat down on the uncomfortable bench, with a thin mattress that was obviously supposed to be a bunk, and he waited. He had never been a particularly patient person and having to let time pass whilst doing nothing just made him more worried and jumpy about the current situation. After he judged a decent amount of time had passed, he wrapped the explosive wire around the door hinges. He got as far away from the door as was possible in the cramped cell, pulling the mattress from the bed in front of him as added protection, and waited once more, this time for a considerably shorter period of time. The resulting explosion tore the door from its hinges. It also brought the two Andorian guards running through the smoke and smouldering fires. Archer was ready for them with some more of the explosive material, which he had balled into a pellet ready to be thrown. The smaller explosions threw the Andorians back from the cell door and gave Archer long enough to ensure that they wouldn’t be bothering him again for some time. He emerged into a corridor in which smoke hung near the ceiling and grabbed a weapon from the first of the Andorians, but noticed once again that the weapon had no stun setting. Hopefully he wouldn’t need to use it. Luck wasn’t on his side today though, an alarm began to sound and two more Andorians in Imperial Guard uniform appeared from further down the corridor. Archer ducked back into his cell for cover and fired towards the Guardsmen. It stopped the Andorians in their tracks as they looked for cover, but Archer knew they’d be looking for a way to take him out. He didn’t think that they would care that their weapons had no stun setting. He fired again and the Andorians returned fire. Suddenly there was the sound of another weapon firing and the Andorians were felled in swift succession. Archer looked around the edge of his doorway to see Shran standing behind his attackers, a Starfleet phase pistol in his hand. “Apparently your stun setting is useful for something,” said Shran, as he retrieved Archer’s coat from the guard station and handed it to him. It was going to be extremely important to have the correct clothing once they were outside. “You’re not supposed to be here,” said Archer. “Captain Trehn started asking some awkward questions. I felt the need to find our weapons,” said Shran. “And you were early.” “I got fed up with waiting. You’re supposed to be making sure that we have an escape route,” Archer spat with exasperation. “I’ve done all I can, we’ll just have to trust to luck for the rest,” replied Shran, in a blasé manner that was guaranteed to annoy Archer. “Well now that you’re here you can help me find Talerez.” Archer was already running off, checking down one side of the corridor. Most of the cells were empty, although a few held other Andorian prisoners in seemingly randomly chosen cells. Archer didn’t recognise any of the occupants and didn’t have the time or inclination to release potentially dangerous criminals, even if they were being held by the Vela Kari. “Here!” shouted Shran. Archer dashed over to Shran’s position further down the corridor. He took one look at the keypad and pulled from his pocket more of the explosive compound that Darwin had given him. He placed the explosives around the keypad. “How much of that stuff did Darwin give you?” “Enough,” said Archer. “Stand back.” They moved across the corridor, the alarms still blaring as another small explosion flared and the keypad disintegrated taking with it all the circuitry behind it. The door clicked open and an Andorian female looked out, getting ready to defend herself if required. “What the hell is going on and who the hell are you?” she asked defiantly, seeing Archer and Shran. Shran actually smiled. “I can see why my brother liked you. My name is Commander Shran.” Her face softened a little. “So which one are you? Thy’lek or Medran?” “Thy’lek.” “Pleased to meet you, finally. Sorry about the circumstances,” said Talerez. “What about pink skin there?” “His name is Archer, he’s the Captain of a human ship called Enterprise.” “And what’s he doing here?” “Helping to break you out,” said Archer, “we need to get going.” “Agreed,” said Talerez. “This way,” said Shran. “There’s a ladder to the surface.” “It’s a long way to climb,” said Archer. “We just need to get off the prison level. Above that there’s a service elevator that we can take to the surface. It won’t be locked down - I made sure of it.” Shran led the way through the corridor, stepping over debris from the various explosions. They reached the ladder that was obviously there for maintenance and emergency situations only, as it was behind a locked door, however further explosive charges dealt with it easily. The three escapees began their climb tackling the ladder as quickly as they could. They emerged from the smoke onto the next floor. Shran once again led the way through the corridors towards the lift that ran to the surface. There was a shout from behind them and Archer realised that they had been spotted. More Guardsmen were coming in their direction. “Shran, I hope that escape route is as good as you claim,” said Archer, as they raced towards the elevator. “Have faith, Archer,” replied Shran, as he skidded to a stop by the elevator and thumbed the doors open. Archer hoped that Shran was as confident about their escape as he sounded. They piled inside the lift as the Andorians opened fire behind them. They fell to the floor as one, and succeeded in ducking under the weapons fire as the elevator doors closed. The elevator started moving, drawing them up towards the surface once again. “Prelev sent you?” asked Talerez, now they had a moment to breathe. Shran exchanged a glance with Archer before he spoke. “Prelev is dead. He contracted the virus. So is Captain Vettran and the rest of the Telispa crew.” “That can’t be,” said Talerez. “He thought it was just a bad cold, and then the Vela Kari came for me…” She seemed to be in shock, almost unable to articulate what she was trying to say. “You’re the only one from the Telispa who survived,” said Archer. “No, we were careful. It’s not possible,” replied Talerez, shaking her head. “There were eighty-six people on the Telispa.” “I know that you don’t want to believe this, but you must be aware that people are dying,” said Archer. “I’ve been in prison ever since the Vela Kari came for me a few weeks ago. I haven’t had access to much news. I heard that people were sick but I had no idea that it was the virus from the Telispa. We’ve got to stop it.” “That’s why we’re here,” said Shran. “You have immunity from the virus or you’d be dead by now.” Talerez shook her head. “No, I was sick. A few weeks ago, around about the last time I saw Prelev.” “But you survived. So far you’re the only one who has.” Shran didn’t look at all happy to be telling her this. “We need to get you back to the lab so that we can find out why you lived and no one else did.” “What was the Telispa’s mission?” Archer’s tone was urgent. “That’s top secret, and I’m certainly not telling a pink skin.” “Damn it, Lieutenant, we don’t have time for this!” Shran shouted, slamming a hand into the wall beside where Talerez was leaning. “We know that the Telispa was doing something for the Vela Kari, and we know that you were in deep space. You have to tell us what was going on. I won’t allow my brother’s death to be for nothing.” Talerez gave Shran an appraising look, as if she was trying to decide whether to trust him. “All I know is that we were told by the Vela Kari to go to a Klingon outpost. We’d been passed intelligence that the Klingons were planning an attack on Andoria. They were meant to be developing bio-weapons. We were supposed to remain hidden and monitor any activity around the outpost, but when we got there the Klingons were all dead. We brought one on board for analysis and discovered that he’d died from a virus. We took samples and incinerated the body. We weren’t too worried because we’d followed procedure and anyway, it was a Klingon virus, it shouldn’t have been able to jump species.” “It got out somehow,” said Archer. “Thousands of Andorians are dead and it can all be traced back to the Telispa. We need the coordinates for that outpost.” Talerez was speechless for a moment. Then she spoke quietly. “I gave the virus to Prelev. I killed him.” “No,” said Shran, taking her by the shoulders. “No, you are not responsible for my brother’s death. Someone manufactured this virus and that’s who killed Prelev. When I get hold of them, their life won’t be worth living.” The light by the side of the door indicated that they had reached top floor of the compound. “We’ll have to sort this out later,” said Archer. They all flattened themselves against the wall as the doors opened, expecting at least some resistance as they exited the elevator. The doors opened onto an empty corridor. “I don’t like this,” said Shran, as he cautiously stepped out. “I didn’t like any of this from the start,” Archer pointed out. “Then you should have stayed home,” said Talerez as she brushed past Archer. Shran handed her a second disruptor. Archer realised that Shran had probably lifted this from one of the other guards but he hadn’t seen him do it. He noticed that he’d holstered the Starfleet issue phase pistol in favour of another Andorian disruptor. The two Andorians and one human edged down the corridor. The exit was in sight but just as they were about to make good their escape, a group of Andorians rounded the corner. At the front of the group was a tall Andorian female, she was rather older than those around her and bore a familial resemblance to Shran’s tactical officer. Shran stopped in his tracks, almost straightening to attention at the sight of the woman. “General Talas,” he said, in a tone that bordered on surprise but was still respectful. “Commander Shran, I commend you and the Captain on your ingenuity, but this stops now. Put your weapons down. You have no idea what is at stake here,” said Talas. “With all due respect, General, you’re allowing thousands of Andorians to die because you want to cover up a mistake.” Shran didn’t lower his weapon, but now pointed it towards Talas. “You only have part of the story. The incident with the Telispa was unfortunate. We had no idea that the virus would mutate and affect Andorians,” said Talas, no emotion in her eyes, completely unfazed by having a weapon pointed at her. Archer supposed that you didn’t get to be head of the Andorian secret police without being a tough individual. Talas continued her speech. “Leave Lieutenant Talerez here and we’ll see she gets to the best people to develop the cure.” “When more people have died!” spat Shran. “There are scientists in Kantev already working on this.” “I am prepared to put your behaviour down to your recent bereavement, Commander, but if you become an annoyance I will be forced to have you executed. Do not forget who I am.” “How could I, after what you’ve done? Only the Vela Kari would allow such a thing.” Shran was beyond anger now and had gone dangerously quiet. “That is enough, Commander Shran. Take them all below and make sure that you search them thoroughly this time,” ordered Talas. The Guardsmen moved forward to retake their prisoners, but at that moment the building was rocked by an explosion. “Find out what that was,” said Talas to one of her subordinates, her weapon still trained on Shran. A Guardsman ran off down the hall to the nearest com point. “We’re under attack,” said the Guardsman. “Multiple unknown targets.” Another explosion was heard, much closer this time. Then, suddenly, the wall beside them was disintegrating and taking half the ceiling with it. Through the rubble walked ex-MACO Colonel Robert Darwin, a rocket launcher in his hands, sporting some serious body armour. Everyone ran for cover as Darwin targeted a portion of the corridor and fired. The Guardsmen were returning fire but so far hadn’t been able to hit anything. “Hi there, boys and girls,” said Darwin, as dust settled around him and he dived for cover behind a large piece of the wall, coming to a halt beside Archer. “These sensor ghosts won’t last forever and nor will the explosives that I planted. I suggest we get the hell out of here.” Shran looked over at the two humans. “You certainly know how to make an entrance, let’s hope that you’re just as good at making an exit.” “Less talking, more action,” replied Darwin, as he took his side arm from its holster and fired in the direction of the Guardsmen. “Get going, I’ll lay down some fire.” He rose to his feet still firing, the rocket launcher slung across his back. He covered the others as they made for the opening that his explosive entrance had created. “We’re clear. Come on!” shouted Archer as Darwin attempted to pick off another Andorian before leaving. He fired one last shot before following the others into the still swirling snow. Explosive charges were still going off around the base and Archer hoped that it would be enough to distract anyone from chasing them. He and Darwin heard the sound of weapons fire behind them and the beam of a disruptor shot past Archer’s right shoulder. Darwin pulled him to the left just in time to avoid a second slightly closer shot. “You have to give them a moving target. At least we have the snow on our side,” Darwin panted as they ran for all they were worth. “I thought they already had enough targets to be worrying about,” said Archer, also breathing heavily from the exertion. “I told you, sensor ghosts won’t fool them for long and my box of tricks is rather temperamental, especially when it’s being shot at. When we finally track down your Chief Engineer remind me to get him to have a look at it. After all he’s the one who built the damn thing in the first place.” Had they not been running for their lives at that moment, Archer would have been amused that Trip had managed to contribute to saving them without even being present. They made it across the open ground and into the mountain pass, Shran and Talerez just in front of them. The snow was as heavy as ever but their pursuers were still coming and still firing. “Just a little further,” Archer mumbled to himself. They reached the top of the valley and suddenly Talerez was down and Shran was pulling her to her feet, urging her on. They passed the point of no return but Talerez’s fall had cost them valuable seconds. Archer heard the first of the explosive charges that Darwin had set begin to trigger, set off by the ex-MACO as they passed, and suddenly the world behind them had become a boiling sea of falling rock and snow, taking with it all the Andorians who had been chasing them. The two humans and two Andorians kept moving as quickly as they could, not wanting to get caught in their own trap. Only when the rumbling had ceased completely did Darwin allow them to stop. All of them were breathing deeply, drawing in deep lungfuls of icy air. It was at that moment that they realised that Talerez had sat heavily on the ground and was slumped forward. “Lieutenant?” asked Shran. She raised her head and her blue skin was paler that it had any right to be after their exertion. She had an arm across her body, clasping her side. She pulled the hand away to reveal bright blue blood, dripping down the outside of her uniform. “You have to leave me,” she said. Archer shook his head. “No, you’re the reason we’re here. It’s not that bad.” In reality he knew that it was obviously a serious wound but that didn’t mean that he was just going to give in. Shran had pulled out his first aid kit and was now rapidly applying a bandage to the wound. Talerez shook her head. “You don’t understand. For an Andorian this is a fatal wound.” Archer looked, in disbelief, to Shran for confirmation but it was Darwin who spoke. “She’s right. Phase weapon injuries can be deadly for Andorians.” “Isn’t there anything we can do?” “If we had a doctor and hospital, maybe, but out here…,” said Darwin with a defeated shrug. Shran’s face had taken on a strange look and it made Archer want to take several steps away from him. Archer himself was speechless for a moment. He looked down at the Andorian woman, unable to comprehend how she could be dying in front of his eyes. “We can’t stay here,” said Darwin. “Look you don’t need me, just my blood,” said Talerez. “You must have come with something that can draw blood.” Shran nodded and began to get out the necessary equipment from a pouch at his waist. He carefully drew blood. It was a startling bright blue against the snow as it filled the vial. He packed the container safely away in his backpack. Talerez was getting weaker even as they stood there and Archer couldn’t believe how quickly she was deteriorating. “Leave me a disruptor and I’ll slow them down. That should give you enough time to get back to your ship and get that back to Kantev,” said Talerez defiantly. “No,” said Shran, quietly. “She’s coming with us.” “Shran…” began Darwin. There was the distant sound of voices from across the avalanche debris. Shran’s mouth was set in a hard line. He dragged Talerez up off the ground and began walking. “Enough Andorians have died because of this disease. We are not letting another one die.” Archer fell in beside the two Andorians, helping to support the ailing woman. “You heard him,” said Archer. He knew that the retired Colonel had weighed the odds of them making the trek to the Kasspin with pursuers on their heals and an injured member of the party, and obviously they weren’t good, but sometimes you had to put friends over everything else. Shran needed to save this woman. ****End of Chapter Nine****   It was slow going back to the Kasspin. The snow and cold were both numbing and impeding, making every step take twice as long as it would have done in better weather. And they were well aware that they were still being chased. Even the avalanche wouldn’t slow their pursuers too much, these were Vela Kari and probably the most highly trained Andorian soldiers on the planet. The Andorians also had the advantage of being acclimatised to the conditions. However the Vela Kari who had chased them on foot weren’t the only ones that they had to worry about, they had heard the rumble of fighter planes in the distance. Annoyingly at the one point that they needed the storm to be heavy, it was lifting slightly. It still wasn’t enough for communications to work but it was probably enough for the ships coming in to be able to fly over their position and most likely detect them. They took turns carrying Talerez, who had been silent for most of the journey and was becoming less and less able to keep her head up as she slipped into unconsciousness. The Kasspin was in sight when they heard phase pistol fire from behind them. Darwin ducked behind some rocks ready to return fire while Archer and Shran got Talerez the last few feet to the ship. When he was satisfied that he’d kept the Andorians tied up long enough, he retreated himself, firing as he went. He made the final distance to the Kasspin at a mad run, slamming the door closed as he entered. Sparks bounced off the hull as the Andorians continued to fire. Archer was already powering up the engines, while Shran and Darwin stowed their gear and strapped Talerez in. Shran made his way forward and took his seat beside Archer, probably having realised that he was still needed to translate. “I make four fighters, incoming,” said Shran examining the scanner. Even with the labels in Andorian, Archer had pretty much worked that out. The Andorians had stopped firing at them, which meant only one thing. They were withdrawing to let the fighters have a go. The earth beneath them shook with the impact of phase cannon fire as the fighters tried to find their range. “We need to get off the deck now,” said Darwin, from the rear of the craft where he was tending to Talerez. “Whenever you’re ready, Archer.” “I’m doing this as quickly as I can, but it iced up overnight,” replied Archer. “Unless you want this to be an extremely short flight, I suggest you shut up and let me fly the damn ship.” Archer’s outburst seemed to keep both Shran and Darwin quiet, and he was left to fight with the controls to get the Kasspin off the ground. Almost immediately after they had risen off the ground the fighters were upon them. “They’re on your tail,” said Shran. Archer jagged the Kasspin sideways as one of their pursuers opened fire. “I’d noticed.” “Are there any weapons on this thing?” asked Darwin, coming forward and grabbing hold of the two seats to keep himself steady. “It’s an experimental craft, we weren’t expecting it to be fired upon,” said Shran, crossly. Archer’s move sideways had just brought them into the line of fire of one of the other ships, which in turn opened fire and drove him towards the third and fourth ship. Archer continued evasive manoeuvres, but found himself continually caught between moving out of one firing line and into another. He misjudged a move slightly and phase cannon fire tore into the starboard wing tracking down to the engine. An alarm sounded from the control board and Archer wrestled with the controls. “Fire in the starboard engine,” said Shran. “Automatic extinguishers aren’t working. Trying to activate manually.” Shran shook his head. “It’s not working.” “There’s no engine left to save,” said Archer, tensely. “I’m losing control. We’re going down.” Archer heard Darwin sitting down as quickly as he could in the seat behind him and fastening the safety harness, but his concentration was mainly focussed on getting the craft down in as few pieces as possible. The Kasspin was doing its best to flip over and, although the storm was nowhere near as bad as it had been, the wind was still vicious. The computer was having trouble working out what was going on as well; now that there was a huge gash down one wing and a missing engine, it couldn’t cope and was sending error messages out in more and more urgent tones. The ground was coming rushing up to meet them and the fighters behind them still hadn’t given up the chase. They were skimming the top of the snow dunes and it was only a matter of time before he had to bring them in for some sort of landing. “Archer!” Shran drew out Archer’s name in a warning tone as he put his hands up to shield his face. The Kasspin ploughed into a huge bank of snow, sending white powder flying around them and burying them in snow simultaneously. The impact threw them forward in their restraints and then hurled them back into their seats. It took them a several seconds to come to a complete halt and, when they did, the only thing visible through the windscreen was snow. Archer was dazed by the impact, but immediately registered that his chest hurt when he breathed. At least he was breathing however. He unwrapped his hand from the death grip that it had on the controls and unfastened his safety harness. His wrist hurt, probably jarred by the impact, he doubted is was broken but it was certainly painful as he flexed his fingers. He shook his head to try to regain some clarity and looked to his left where Shran was sitting. The Andorian was moving slowly but was definitely awake and aware. He twisted in his seat and tried to get a view of Darwin. The Colonel was slumped forward in his safety restraints and unmoving. “Darwin?” asked Archer, but he received no response. Archer pushed himself up out of his chair, and regretted the swift motion as he felt a little dizzy. He steadied himself, putting the dizziness down to shock from the crash. He blinked a couple of times and the room came back into focus. “Shran, are you injured?” The Andorian was sluggish as he turned towards Archer, and gave him an almost defiant shake of his head. “Bruised ribs, nothing more. I need to check on Talerez.” Shran undid his own safety restraints and rose equally shakily to go to the back of the craft where Lieutenant Talerez was strapped in. From what Archer could see she hadn’t moved much in the crash, the question was whether the impact had worsened her injuries. Archer turned to Darwin and gently rolled him back against his seat. He placed a hand on his neck to feel for a pulse and was relieved to find one. The Colonel had a large gash above his left eye, which was no doubt why he was now unconscious. Archer vaguely remembered something thumping into his seat during the crash but amongst all the other bumps it hadn’t seemed noteworthy. A quick check of his seat back confirmed that there was blood on it, so Darwin’s head had obviously connected with it. Archer had no idea how bad the head wound was but it was bleeding quite a bit. He looked around for the first aid kit and realised that Shran already had it out and was using the scanner on Talerez. Beside him was a broken Andorian medical scanner from Shran’s own medical kit, which had probably been smashed in the crash and was definitely not working any longer. “Useless,” said Shran in disgust as he shut the scanner. “This is calibrated for human biosigns. As far as it’s concerned her whole metabolism is running too quickly and I have no idea if it’s running so fast that I should worry or if it’s just normal.” Archer took the scanner from Shran. “Just do your best to make her comfortable.” Shran nodded unhappily and set about changing the bandage on Talerez’s side. “What about our other friend?” He inclined his head in Darwin’s direction. “He’s out cold and he’s got a head wound. It doesn’t look serious but I’d like to check it out.” Archer bent down and selected enough out of the first aid kit to treat the head wound, then went back towards the front of the craft. “One thing’s for sure, he’s going to have one hell of a headache when he wakes up.” Shran merely grunted in reply, too engrossed in his own medical task to take more than a passing interest in what Archer was saying. He managed to stop the blood flowing from the wound by applying pressure and then began to clean the wound as carefully as he could so that he could get an idea of how big it was. It didn’t seem to be too deep but was quite long and wide. If they’d been at a hospital then Darwin would probably have been given stitches, but Archer contented himself with putting a dressing over the wound and hoping that they’d be able to get their injured companions back to civilisation quickly. He ran the scanner over his patient and concluded that there was nothing to be done until the Colonel awoke, when he would be able to go through the normal barrage of concussion tests. He found a blanket and draped it over Darwin, primarily because he was aware that shock was a real danger, but if they were here for any length of time, then it had the potential to get very cold in the Kasspin. With his medical work done, Archer turned his attention to the ship. A simple look through the windscreen told him that they were well buried in the snow and probably completely submerged. This fact could explain why the fighters hadn’t simply turned around and finished them off, or it could be that they didn’t want to harm Talerez, either way he hadn’t heard any phase cannon fire for a while. He started his examination of the controls, beginning with the communications circuits. They were dead, but then so was the rest of the panel. It looked more likely that no power was getting to the circuits than that anything was actually wrong with them. He wasn’t exactly certain that they would even want to use the communications equipment if they could. It would probably just draw the Vela Kari to their position and for the moment they seemed to be safe. Archer found a toolkit amongst the debris that was littering the floor of the Kasspin and began to take apart the control panel so that he could get at the circuits underneath. His painful ribs and wrist were causing him some difficulties when it came to moving and working with the tools but he did his best to ignore the handicap. “You’re wasting your time,” said Shran, from the back of the craft. “If they destroyed one of the engines then there’s nothing to fix.” “All we need is a working radio,” said Archer. “Then I can get in touch with Enterprise.” Shran abandoned his position by Talerez and came up to see what Archer was doing. “The Vela Kari will be out looking for us. The only reason they haven’t found us already is probably because we’re buried too deeply and the storm was enough to hide our descent. If you send out a signal, it’ll be like lighting a beacon.” “I’m not sure that we have much choice,” said Archer. “We’re more than a day’s walk from habitation and I doubt we’d last even that long out there, especially with wounded. Which all assumes that we could dig ourselves out of here, which, to be honest, isn’t looking likely. We’re better off staying here and waiting for someone to come and rescue us, but then they have to be able to find us to do that.” “So we can either die from the cold or the Vela Kari can kill us. It isn’t much of a choice,” said Shran. “Well until we can get the radio working, we don’t have even that choice,” replied Archer. A muffled groan told them that Darwin was waking up. Steel grey eyes fluttered open and then screwed themselves shut again, as the ex-MACO put a hand to his temple. Darwin swore colourfully. “You took a bad knock to the head,” said Archer, once Darwin had exhausted his supply of swear words. “You don’t say,” said Darwin, with a sharp sarcastic edge. “I thought you were supposed to be a good pilot.” “We’re down in one piece, aren’t we?” replied Archer, indignantly. “Near enough,” said Shran. Darwin undid his harness, his movements more sluggish than normal, and Archer wasn’t sure if that was down to the pain or disorientation from the head injury. “What’s our status?” “We’re buried in a snow dune. We’re not sure how deep because we don’t have any working instruments, and no power, but the good news is that we seem to have thrown off our pursuers.” “If my head wasn’t pounding, I’d cheer,” said Darwin, the sarcasm back once again. He cast off the blanket Archer had placed over him and made to stand up, but instead fell sideways against the seat and sat down heavily once more. “You might want to consider sitting still for a while. I think you may have a concussion,” said Archer. “Yeah, it feels like it,” agreed Darwin. “If the next words out of your mouth involve how many fingers you’re holding up then, so help me god, I will not be responsible for my actions.” Archer put down his hand, having been about to ask exactly that question. Darwin still looked grumpy even so. “So, do we have a plan for getting out of here?” “We’re working on it,” said Shran. “If I can work out where Enterprise is, maybe we can get a directional message burst out to them,” said Archer, thoughtfully. “You’re assuming that we can even get the instruments working again,” said Shran. “All I need is an accurate chronometer to determine Enterprise’s position and a working radio to send the message.” Archer knew what Enterprise’s orbit around Andoria was, he just had to hope that they’d had no reason to alter it. He went to work on the control panel once again, rubbing his increasingly cold fingers together in an attempt to generate some warmth. “The temperature’s dropping like a stone in here.” “We’re buried in a snow dune,” said Shran, “and the sun’s probably going down by now. It’s going to get a lot colder than this if we can’t get the power working.” “Great,” said Darwin. “If the Vela Kari don’t find us first, we’re going to freeze to death instead.” Darwin made to get up again, rather more carefully this time. “Give me some tools and tell me what I can do to help.” “If you’ve got a concussion then you should be resting,” said Archer. “As you keep on reminding me, we don’t have our usual engineer available to fix things. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not exactly uninjured either. I’d have thought you’d welcome the help.” Darwin was upright now and although he looked a little pale, Archer noted that he was standing up without too much wobbling. He gave up and handed Darwin a wrench. “Get to work on undoing those bolts,” he said indicating the deck plating where the cables from the control panel ran. “Let’s hope that whatever is stopping power getting to these circuits isn’t too complicated or we’ll all be brushing up on our arctic survival skills.” Darwin gave Archer a sidelong glance and got down to the task at hand. “I really hope you know more about this than I do.” “I picked up the basics,” said Archer, examining the circuits that he’d uncovered. He was well aware that none of them were engineers, but hopefully he knew enough to fix whatever was broken. The problem was that he was dealing with Andorian technology and, whereas Trip would regard this as a challenge, Archer was out of his depth. He just had to hope that Shran had at least a rudimentary grasp of mechanics, otherwise they were in big trouble. “Some of the finest minds in the Imperial Guard Research and Development Division worked on this ship,” said Shran. “We’ll be lucky if we can even identify half of the systems. I doubt knowing the basics will help us.” “If that’s supposed to make me feel better, then it doesn’t,” said Archer, tersely. “Can we just concentrate on what we do know. No power is getting to this console and therefore no power is getting to the communications circuits. Which means we can’t send out a message and if we can’t send out a message we’re all going to freeze to death here.” “We know the stakes,” said Darwin, sounding slightly annoyed. “This probably isn’t a good time to let you know that I failed my first year starship maintenance exam,” said Shran, with a smirk. Darwin smiled back and Archer couldn’t help grinning too. The tense atmosphere defused somewhat and Archer was glad that Shran had recognised the need to calm things down. “Is there even such a thing in the Imperial Guard?” asked Archer. “No, but looking at this, maybe there should be,” replied Shran, bending down to examine the wiring. “Like you, I know the basics of how a ship works, but I’m not sure I can fix one as sophisticated as this.” “At least we can check and make sure that all the wires are connected without any breaks.” Archer was already examining a bundle of wires, trying to work out which ones led to the communications equipment. For the second time since they’d started this mission, he really wished that they’d had Trip with them. “Agreed,” said Shran. Darwin indicated his approval with a nod, whilst he continued to remove bolts so that they could get at the complete wiring run. It was largely optical data cabling but the power conduits ran alongside. Apart from the engine, the craft itself hadn’t been too badly damaged so Archer was hoping that the only reason they didn’t have power was because something had shaken loose. They spent the next hour or so checking connections and cables, during which the temperature dropped further. Archer and Darwin were most badly effected, their teeth chattering while they shivered, blankets draped over their thick coats in an effort to prevent further heat loss. The shaking certainly wasn’t helping with their injuries and Archer finally gave in and took some painkillers, after the pain in his wrist became so bad that he was finding it difficult to hold tools. He was aware of Darwin surreptitiously watching him as he found the medical kit, took the pills and bound up the wrist with a bandage, hoping that some support would help. Shran was better able to cope with the low temperature as a native Andorian, but Archer noted that even he was rubbing his hands together to try to warm up his digits. They had piled as many blankets as they could find onto Talerez who had barely moved since they crashed. Her breathing had become more shallow and Archer was sure that all three men were worried about her, although none of them would allow it to show. “I’ve got something,” said Darwin. He was at the back of the Kasspin, looking at the engine compartment. Archer and Shran left what they were doing and went to see what Darwin had found. “There,” said Darwin. Archer looked down at what Darwin was pointing at. It was a large piece of debris cutting into a power conduit. There was a corresponding hole in the hull from which the debris had come and snow now spilled through. “That would be our problem,” said Archer. “When the engine was hit it must have blown the debris into the power conduit. It looks like it’s creating a short.” “We have no way to fix this,” said Shran. “Can’t we just take out the piece of metal?” asked Darwin. “Be my guest, pink skin, but I’m not cleaning up your charred remains. That piece of metal probably has a few thousand volts running through it.” said Shran. “He’s right,” said Archer. “Assuming we can remove the debris, we’d have to repair the conduit and I doubt we have the right tools or materials.” “So we’re stuck,” said Darwin. Archer took a step back his mind working furiously. He wasn’t giving up yet and there had to be a way. “Shran, are there environmental suits on this ship?” “Of course, it’s standard Imperial Guard procedure,” replied Shran. “Good idea, Archer,” said Darwin. “An environmental suit should be insulated.” “Try not to sound so surprised,” said Archer, with mild annoyance. “I’ll get the suit,” said Shran, seemingly deciding to ignore the banter between the two humans. Archer couldn’t blame him to be honest, even in the worst situations, he and Darwin still seemed to find time to snipe at each other. The Andorian rummaged in a locker, produced a standard issue Imperial Guard environmental suit and began pulling it on. There appeared to be only a single suit, perhaps because this craft usually only had one occupant, the test pilot. “Hang on, I’m not sure that this is going to work,” said Archer. “Maybe you should let me be the one to do it.” “Any other time I’d agree with you, but I doubt you’d manage it with that wrist strapped up.” Archer suspected that, despite Shran’s explanation, it was a point of honour for him. The Andorian finished pulling on the suit, leaving the helmet off as unnecessary. Shran approached the large piece of debris, clearing clutter from the destroyed engine out of the way so that he could more easily get to the conduit. Once he had created a pathway, he stepped up to the piece of debris, grabbed it with both hands and pulled sharply. The first go merely shifted it slightly, but Shran was determined not to give in and he put all of his strength into his next effort. Sparks ran across the metal a d fell to the floor as it shorted across more wires as it moved. Shran gave a hard tug and with a grunt, the metal came free, leaving a jagged, deep cut in the conduit. Shran dropped the offending piece of metal unceremoniously to the floor. Darwin wordlessly handed him a fire extinguisher and the Andorian put out the series of small fires that had been lit by the flying sparks. “Well that’s one problem solved. Now how do we fix it?” asked Darwin. Archer looked at the conduit. “We need to remove the outer casing so that we can see how bad the problem is and bridge the gap with something.” Darwin grabbed a pair of bolt cutters from the tool box and made short work of the casing of the conduit, cutting out the jagged hole so that they could see the cables underneath. Archer got the distinct impression that Darwin had just taken out some of his frustration at their situation on the conduit casing. However it hadn’t helped them to reconnect the cables, the piece of metal had sliced through two of the thickly insulated cables and caused a short. More troublingly, the debris piece had removed at least a couple of inches from each cable. “Maybe we could take some cable from another section,” suggested Archer. “Which system? I certainly don’t know my way around this ship well enough to work out what we can do without,” replied Shran. “You know that large piece of metal we just removed would conduct quite nicely, if we can find something to keep it in place,” pointed out Darwin, matter-of-factly. Archer almost laughed. He and Shran were supposed to be the ones with the technical training, but it was the soldier that had pointed out the obvious plan. “It might be enough to get a message out,” said Shran. “I could hold it in place. This suit should be well insulated enough.” “But you won’t be able to hold it for long,” said Archer. The suit might be insulated but the cable carried a high current and the heat from resistance across the metal could potentially melt the suit. Shran would be just as dead then as if he’d picked up the cable in his bare hands. “Get your message ready to send and let me worry about that,” said Shran. Which let Archer know that he was well aware of what he was suggesting. “Wait a minute, isn’t Shran the best person to send the message? He actually knows his way around those controls and we’re not going to have long,” said Darwin. “Do the gloves come off that suit?” Shran shrugged and caught Archer’s eye. “He has a point.” “Are you sure?” Archer asked Darwin. “I could do it.” Darwin shook his head. “You’re injured. I saw just how much pain your wrist was causing you earlier.” “We don’t have time to stand around and discuss it,” replied Shran, as he took out a knife from a leg pocket in the suit, and sliced through the material around his wrists without another word. He pulled off the frayed gauntlets that he had created and handed them to Darwin. The Colonel accepted them and took up position, ready to make the connection. Archer noted that the gloves were a little too small but they didn’t have anything else to work with here. Archer grudgingly left Darwin to it. He found his backpack and rooted out a padd. He checked the time and calculated Enterprise’s current position, assuming that it hadn’t changed it’s orbit. A targeted transmission would just be lost in the ether otherwise. He then quickly composed a message that was short but hopefully conveyed all the information that Enterprise would need to come and find them, including the last coordinates he had before they went down. They hadn’t heard any fire from the ships which had been attacking them since the crash, so Archer guessed that they had given up, but he still included a warning. He didn’t want anyone from Enterprise walking into the situation without the knowledge that there were potentially hostile ships in the area. He handed Shran the padd. The Andorian nodded and sat down at the console, Archer beside him, on hand in case he was needed. “Ready?” asked Archer. Shran merely nodded, his hands poised to set the communications equipment for the targeted pulse and type out the message. “Darwin, now!” Archer saw the ex-MACO make the connection and he heard the hum of power as the console became live again. Shran had begun typing furiously in order to make the most of the time that he had to get the message out. He dashed out a few last key strokes, put in the coordinates for the message burst to be directed at and pressed the send key, just as Darwin let out a yelp of pain. It was followed by the board going dead once more as Darwin dropped the hot metal. Archer had propelled himself out of his seat and towards the back of the Kasspin in seconds, grabbing the medical scanner as he went. Darwin stood there holding his hands out, his teeth gritted in pain. “Snow,” said Archer urgently, “put your hands in the snow.” Darwin took a second to realise what Archer meant before he turned back to the compartment and plunged his burnt hands into the snow that had leaked through the hull. It certainly wasn’t the first course of treatment that Archer would have suggested in other circumstances, given the risk of infection, but it was the best he could do at the moment. “Did we get the message out?” asked Archer urgently, turning back towards Shran and once more reaching for the medical kit. Shran rose from his seat stiffly and Archer remembered that the Andorian had injured ribs too. “I think so, I can’t be sure. There was no time to get a confirmation.” “Then there’s nothing else we can do for the moment,” said Archer. “Darwin, let’s have a look at your hands.” Darwin sat down heavily on the decking, shivering more than before and shaking snow onto the floor. “Pretty sure that I’m going into shock. This had better have been worth it.” “Shran, we need a couple of blankets for the Colonel, and water,” said Archer. Shran was already looking for the supplies even as Archer asked. He carefully took one of Darwin’s hands in his own and looked at the burns. He activated the scanner and ran it over each hand. He met Darwin’s eyes. “You’ve got second degree burns across the palms of both hands.” “Not a big surprise,” said Darwin. “I know the drill. Clean them up, put some antiseptic on them and a dressing. Stay warm. Keep up my fluid levels.” Archer nodded. “You seem to know your first aid. Some painkillers would probably help too, unless you’re too much of a hard ass.” Darwin shook his head with a smile. “Even a hard ass like me has limits.” Shran returned with water and blankets, just as Archer injected the contents of a hypospray into Darwin’s neck. Almost instantly it had some effect and Darwin visibly looked to be in less pain. “This is going to hurt like hell,” said Archer as he prepared to clean up the wounds. “I think you need to work on your bedside manner,” said Darwin. “Just get on with it.” Archer did as he was told and started by pouring some water over Darwin’s hands. The plastic had melted onto the skin in places and he wasn’t even going to attempt to try to remove it. He could do more harm than good, so he was going to leave the hard stuff to Phlox. Darwin drew in breath sharply as the process continued but didn’t complain. Once Archer was satisfied that the burns were as clean as he could get them, he applied some antiseptic and a loose dressing. Darwin had visibly paled but was still conscious, and obviously glad that the operation was complete. There was no doubt about it, the Colonel was going into shock and he was in no condition to be doing anything other than resting quietly. “We should decide what we’re going to do if Enterprise didn’t get the message,” said Shran, bringing Darwin’s sleeping bag over. “Concentrate on keeping warm,” replied Archer, shivering again himself. “Enterprise got the message.” “I wish I was so sure,” said Darwin, his teeth chattering, as Archer helped him climb into the sleeping bag. Shran brought over his own and Archer’s sleeping bags, and then went to check on Talerez. Archer positioned himself beside Darwin so that he was now pretty much keeping the Colonel propped up on one side. “What would Trip say if he could see this? You, of all people, taking care of me.” Darwin shivered. Archer laughed. “He’d probably think it was funny.” He paused. “I still don’t like you.” “That’s alright, I still don’t like you either.” “I’m glad that you two have sorted that out,” said Shran, as he sat down on Darwin’s other side. “What is this? A sleepover?” asked Darwin. “Sharing body warmth, which you need more than we do,” said Shran. “What he said,” Archer chipped in. Darwin let his head loll back against the wall with an annoyed thump, which Archer took to be an indication of just how bad he felt. The Colonel was shaking more than both he and Shran put together, and his skin had taken on a rather greyish tinge. “I hope you’re remembering that I didn’t even want to come on this jaunt.” “Do all humans whine this much?” asked Shran. Actually Archer thought that given the severity of Darwin’s burns, he was whining a lot less than could reasonably be expected. “Only when we’re facing insurmountable odds while freezing our asses off,” replied Darwin. “We should all try to get some rest,” said Archer. He received grunts of agreement from the other two. He hadn’t failed to notice that Shran was unable to remove his eyes from the still form of Talerez. Her chest still rose and fell, if more shallowly than it should, so he knew that she was alive, but she certainly wasn’t getting any better. Archer closed his eyes, hoping that he’d wake up back on Enterprise, and allowed himself to doze. ****End of Chapter Ten**** Someone was knocking on the Kasspin’s hull. At first the knocking had been part of his dream, someone had been tapping in an annoying fashion whilst he had been talking to someone. He didn’t remember exactly what the dream had been about now that he was awake, but the knocking sound was still there. Archer scrabbled up, and he noticed Shran and Darwin were also waking up. He checked the chronometer and saw that two hours had passed since the message had been sent. He could see Starfleet personnel in full arctic gear outside the Kasspin and they had been clearing the snow away from the ship. Archer went to the hatch and activated the controls, allowing five figures to step inside. He closed the hatch behind them and they shuck off their hoods and goggles to reveal T’Pol, Lieutenant Reed, Captain Kanatova and two of Reed’s security personnel. It was a little crowded, but they wouldn’t be staying long. “T’Pol, you got our message?” He couldn’t think of another time when he had been quite so please to see her. “Indeed,” replied T’Pol. “We were already out looking for you, but it is very unlikely that we would have found you without your communication.” “We have two medical emergencies and all four of us are going to need Phlox’s attention for hypothermia,” said Archer. “Lieutenant Talerez is the most urgent case but Colonel Darwin is a priority too.” “Understood, Captain,” said T’Pol. “Captain Kanatova was most insistent to accompany us.” The MACO medic was shaking snow off her slightly differently patterned MACO arctic gear. She was already in the process of removing her equipment so that she could take a better look at Talerez. “What the hell happened here?” said Kanatova, waving her scanner over Talerez. She followed that by turning to Shran, Darwin and Archer. Darwin’s scan readings elicited a frown but nothing more. “Commander T’Pol, we need to get all of them out of here and back to Kantev for proper treatment.” “You won’t get any argument from us on that score,” said Shran, tiredly getting to his feet. T’Pol turned back to her Captain. “There have been developments in your absence.” “Go on,” said Archer. Reed answered him. “Commander Tucker has been in touch.” The fatigue and cold seemed to drop away from Archer as he was suddenly completely alert. “Is he okay?” “I don’t want to discuss what he told me here, but he’s in trouble.” Reed didn’t look as if he had any good news to impart, which didn’t surprise Archer. “Then we’d better go and get him,” said Archer. “Do we know where he is?” “He mentioned a planet called Coriolis, but so far it hasn’t come up on any of our star charts. Hoshi’s been trying to trace the transmission origin. It looks as if it’s scrambled, but we might have another way to find him. Enterprise detected the ECS Horizon coming in to make orbit, but a few hours ago they changed course and it never took up orbit.” “Makes sense,” grunted Darwin, “nothing here for them to collect now.” “We might be able to pick up its warp trail,” finished Reed, ignoring the interruption. “With all the traffic around Andoria? Good luck,” said Shran. “We’ll have to, it may be the only way that we can find Trip,” said Archer. “We need to deliver a sample of Talerez’s blood to the Andorians and Phlox but otherwise that’s all we can do to help the situation here.” “She has immunity to the disease?” asked T’Pol. Archer nodded. “What did you find out about the Telispa?” “I was able to download the logs,” said T’Pol. T’Pol had delivered the news very calmly but Archer knew that it couldn’t have been an easy task. “What did you find?” “The coordinates of an outpost on the edge of Klingon space that the Telispa visited,” said T’Pol. Archer nodded. “Talerez mentioned a Klingon outpost.” “The Klingon outpost has to be within range of the MACO base,” said Darwin, groggily. He was being helped to his feet by Kanatova and Reed fell in to take his other side. The two security officers were busy moving Talerez onto a stretcher and covering her suitably with a thermal blanket for the journey to the shuttle. “We’ll bear that in mind, Colonel,” replied T’Pol, in a placatory tone. “In range” was a big radius and wouldn’t necessarily help them. “How soon can Enterprise be ready to leave?” asked Archer. “As soon as we have discerned a heading,” said T’Pol. “Good, get everyone back to the ship,” said Archer. “Doctor Phlox anticipated your request and has asked to remain on Andoria for the time being to work on the virus,” said T’Pol. “Fine, we’ll pick him up later.” “I’m coming with you,” said Darwin, “and I don’t want to hear any arguments. He was my Engineer long before he was yours.” “Rob, you’re injured. For once in your life, please do the sensible thing,” Kanatova interjected. “Forget it, Kana, I’m not sitting around here on my ass while these Starfleet cowboys go looking for Trip. You’re going to need a MACO’s perspective on things.” Darwin’s eyes almost pleaded with Archer. “Then maybe we should take two,” said Archer. Darwin looked a little puzzled and slightly surprised. “If Phlox is staying here then we’ll need another pair of hands in sickbay. That is if Captain Kanatova doesn’t mind joining us…” “Wild horses wouldn’t stop me. With Special Projects MACOs around, you’ll need a doctor.” Kanatova gave a dangerous smile. “It will make a change to have a properly equipped sickbay at my disposal when I treat this pigheaded, pain in the ass of a Colonel.” Archer would have sworn that Darwin paled slightly at Kanatova’s remark. “What about you Shran?” “My place is with her.” Shran indicated Talerez. “I owe it to Prelev to see that she is well cared for.” Archer nodded. “I understand. What about the Vela Kari? What are they going to do now that they don’t have Talerez? Will they arrest you?” “I should be safe enough once my Imperial Guard superiors find out what’s been going on. Talerez is proof enough that the Vela Kari have overstepped the boundaries of their authority. Even they are not unaccountable. Questions will be asked and hopefully we’ll find out what’s really going on here.” “Or they’ll bury the whole incident,” said Darwin. “I’ve seen it done.” Shran merely cocked his head to one side in rueful acknowledgement that what Darwin said was, indeed, a distinct possibility. “We’re ready to go, sir,” said one of Talerez’s stretcher bearers. They opened the hatch onto the snow, just as Shran added, “I’m actually more worried what the Techs are going to say when I tell them that I crashed their prototype. And that the only man who has ever been able to fly it is a human.” **** After Trip had been discovered in the communications room, he was subjected to an intense interrogation session. He was taken to a small room where he was handcuffed to a chair, which was the only piece of furniture in the room, and Andros barked questions at him. “Who did you call?” Trip said nothing. Interrogation training in Special Projects had been simple, you kept your mouth shut if you were captured by the enemy and waited for someone to arrange for your swift death. Colonel Darwin hadn’t been keen on letting his men get killed or indeed killing them himself if they got captured, so he’d always made sure that everyone got out safely one way or another. Trip’s silence earned him a punch to the guts from one of Andros’s henchmen, followed by a smack across the mouth. “Answer me. Was it Earth? Or did you call your friends on Enterprise?” “You’re going to kill me anyway, so I don’t see why I should tell you anything,” said Trip. Andros once again signalled for her henchman, with a mere twitch of her finger. She was taunting Trip with the power that she currently had over him. “What did you tell them? How much do you know? What did you tell Tjearigeshearithen?” A beating ensued, and it was a particularly good one, by a well practiced hand that knew where to hit to hurt but do little damage. Andros asked her questions, Trip said nothing or made wisecracks at her expense and got hit for his trouble. It went on for several hours and then Trip had been unceremoniously thrown into a holding cell to lick his wounds. Once he’d been able to take stock of his injuries, and the pain had reached more manageable levels, he realised that things were perhaps not as bad as he’d originally thought. Although he was bruised black and blue, so stiff and sore that he could hardly move from the bunk that he’d been dropped onto, he was fairly certain that nothing was broken, for which he was thankful. He cleaned the cuts as best he could and was satisfied that he had avoided a concussion. It seemed that Andros wanted him intact for the moment, and most probably he could expect further interrogation sessions. However, Andros surprised him. After the first interrogation session he was left for several days in what was basically solitary confinement, with as little contact with his jailers as possible. This didn’t really bother him that much, as far as he was concerned it was just another of Andros’s psychological tricks and he’d been through far worse. He had a pretty active imagination when he wanted it to be and was able to keep himself occupied with physical exercise and mental problem solving. Meal times punctuated the day and meant that he kept his sense of time. The food wasn’t particularly good, but actually being fed was higher on his list of priorities than how it tasted. He’d spent the first few days trying to work out a way of escaping, but this wasn’t any ordinary cell that he’d been thrown into. He’d been in a fair few jail cells in this time and most of them had been easily escapable, including Enterprise’s brig, but this was a jail cell built by black ops MACOs for black ops MACOs. It had a number of features that made escape extremely difficult. Firstly there was absolutely no access to the door controls from anywhere in the cell, the walls were almost completely smooth. The door had two separate locks: a manual old-fashioned type, which would have been very hard to pick due to its size, had Trip had the tools, and a second electronic keypad lock, which he could have picked given the correct tools, but he didn’t have them, so that too was a moot point. With no access to anything remotely electrical he couldn’t even improvise something, and, naturally, he’d been well searched before being placed in the cell so all his tools were gone. He really missed his pocket-knife. There were no windows, just a door with a barred grill, and no handy, man-sized, air-conditioning ducts to crawl along. A camera monitored the cell but it was hidden behind an inch-thick piece of plexi-glass that was embedded in the wall, so there was no way Trip could even get to it to dismantle it. Finally the cell itself was placed in a room, with a gap around it. Even if Trip was to find a way out, he’d be very obvious to the guards once he exited the cell, and wasn’t as if there were many ships that he could take off the planet once he was out either. They had even taken into account that moving a prisoner gave them more chance to escape. Trip hadn’t left his cell for so much as a shower since he’d been thrown in there. Sanitary facilities were provided in the cell, but he never felt as clean after washing as when he’d had a proper shower. He could live with slightly poor washing facilities and given his situation he reckoned that he wasn’t doing too badly. He’d almost expected Andros to execute him on the spot, but he’d done his work by getting the message out to Enterprise. He suspected that she still had plans for him, but she was letting him stew out of spite and anger at what he’d done. He just hoped that Enterprise turned up before she carried out whatever it was she had in mind. If Enterprise was on Andoria then by his reckoning, assuming they left immediately, it was going to take them about ten days to reach Coriolis. Which also assumed that Reed had stopped any assassination attempts on T’Pol or Archer and that Enterprise wasn’t desperately needed where it was. Even though he hoped he’d made it clear to Reed that something really bad was happening on Coriolis, it might not be considered more important than whatever Enterprise was doing now. He had no idea what the situation was like on Andoria. He’d already been here five days which left at least another five to go, during which Andros could be doing anything. He heard a couple of his guards go past and someone along the corridor being removed from their cell. He went to the small grill in the door to try and get a glimpse of who it was, he’d never managed to find out who was in the cell next to his. Whoever they were, they were struggling and making a lot of noise. He heard guttural shouting in a language (definitely alien in origin) that he half recognised but he couldn’t quite place it. Similar exclamations had been coming from the cell ever since he’d arrived. The occupant was definitely annoyed at his incarceration. He was only a little surprised when a Klingon was dragged past, struggling valiantly and having to be manhandled by three MACOs. The language he had been hearing was obviously Klingon. “What’s going on?” asked Trip. The nearest guard slammed his fist against the grill in true prison guard style, and Trip took a step away from the door. “None of your business, Tucker. You’ll get your turn soon enough.” The Klingon was dragged away and out of sight, doors slamming locked behind them. Trip slumped down on the bunk again. This waiting was killing him and he didn’t like the idea of his turn being next, whatever it was for. He needed a plan to get out of this cell, preferably before Enterprise arrived. He reviewed his options, trying to remember every scrap of training that he’d had whilst a member of the MACO Special Projects unit. Once again he came up empty handed and frustrated. He just couldn’t see a way out of the cell that didn’t involve some sort of outside assistance. It was several hours before the Klingon was returned to his cell, this time unconscious. He hung limply between two MACOs as he was dragged along the corridor and dumped on the floor of his small cell. “Hey, what did you do to him?” “Shut up, Tucker,” said one of he MACO guards, but didn’t answer the question. It was about the most that he ever got out of any of the guards. Once again they left the cell area and Tucker and the Klingon were left alone. It seemed to take a while, but some time later Trip heard groans from his cell mate. “Hey there,” said Trip. “I’m pretty sure that you don’t speak my language, so this is probably wasting my breath, but are you okay over there?” “I speak your language,” came the gruff and unexpected reply. “I choose not to sully myself with your cowardly tongue. I am a warrior and should not be treated this way.” The Klingon rattled the door of the cell. “No point doing that. Everything’s reinforced. My name’s Trip, by the way. What should I call you?” “Gaht,” replied the Klingon. “Gaht of the house of Duron. What kind of name is Trip?” “It’s a nickname. I guess you’d call me Charles of the house of Tucker, or something, but pretty much everyone calls me Trip.” The Klingon grunted and was silent again. Apparently they weren’t a talkative race. Trip’s previous experiences with Klingons hadn’t exactly been pleasant. If they weren’t trying to capture Captain Archer and take him to Rura Penthe then they were killing Trip’s friends or stabbing him in the stomach. He now had first hand experience of just how painful stomach wounds could be thanks to a Klingon called Kartok, luckily Phlox had been on hand to patch him up. “Where did they take you earlier?” he asked. “A lab,” said the Klingon. “They keep me here so that they can take my blood and they can do their tests. This is no way for a warrior to live.” Trip heard something, a foot or a fist, slam into the cell door. “If I could die an honourable death, I would gladly do so.” Trip finally put two and two together with the addition of this last piece of information. He had seen labs with biohazard signs when he’d been exploring the high security area of the base. He’d half guessed it already, but this confirmed things. It seemed that the MACOs were developing a bio weapon to use against the Klingons. Trip didn’t even know where to start with everything that was wrong with that plan. “So how did you end up here?” “I was working on an outpost of the Empire, when I was kidnapped by Coriolans. I killed some, but they overpowered me and brought me here. It was not an honourable way to become a prisoner of war.” “Is there an honourable way for a Klingon to be taken prisoner?” “No.” “Thought not,” said Trip, trying to remember everything that he’d ever known about Klingons. He seemed to recollect that honour was pretty damn important to Klingons. “Any ideas on how to get out of here?” “If I had any, I would not share them with you, human.” “We’re both in the same boat here. It might make sense to work together, Klingon.” “Do you have any ideas on how to break out of here?” “No, do you?” “No. It would seem that working together isn’t going to make much difference to our prospects of getting out of here.” “You might have a point there,” said Trip, in a resigned tone. “There has to be a way.” The Klingon snorted and there was silence for several moments before he spoke. “Why have they locked up one of their own?” “They don’t like me very much,” said Trip. The Klingon snorted again and this time remained quiet. After a few minutes had passed Trip decided that the conversation was obviously over. Trip returned to going over every plan for escape that he’d ever thought of. A couple of hours later the guards came for Trip and he caught the Klingon watching him as he was marched away. The Klingon was still watching him when they brought him back, once more beaten and bruised after a fruitless questioning session. All he really felt like for the moment was lying very still on his bunk. “You still alive, Charles of the House of Tucker?” came a gruff shout from the other cell. Trip laughed but stopped when he realised that it hurt too much. “Yeah, still alive.” He was wondering for how much longer this would be the case though. **** It was Lieutenant Hess who worked out how to track the ECS Vector and she admitted that it was mostly by chance. She had been analysing Enterprise’s engine efficiency after the modifications that she had made on Commander Tucker’s orders and that included exhaust emissions. Her next task had been to help T’Pol with tracking Vector by examining ion trails and she spotted a match. It was absolutely obvious to her that someone had modified the engine creating this particular ion trail by making the same modifications as had been made to Enterprise and there was only one person who was capable of that. It was as good as a signature. Vector had at least a day’s head start on Enterprise but Hess had estimated that even with Trip’s modifications it wouldn’t be able to get above warp three point five. Trip might be a genius when it came to engines but even he couldn’t work miracles. Enterprise should be able to catch them without any problem, but Archer didn’t want to catch them, he wanted them to lead him back to Coriolis. The difficulty that they now faced was staying far enough behind them so that they wouldn’t be detected. So they hung back, hoping that the delay wouldn’t be fatal for their mission or Trip. Archer and his First Officer were sat in the Captain’s Ready Room, T’Pol drinking mint tea and Archer with a cup of strong black coffee. He hadn’t been sleeping well since he had been discharged from sickbay after his recovery from hypothermia, a slight concussion, a torn ligament in his wrist and bruised ribs. He knew that it wasn’t just the aftermath of the crash that was keeping him up at nights; he was worried about Trip as well and what they would find on Coriolis. He’d watched the recording of Trip’s call to Enterprise and seen the abrupt ending. Did that meant that they were already too late? He looked across to T’Pol, who was poring over a Vulcan star-chart, and wondered if she had the same worries. He would guess that, as a Vulcan, she didn’t experience worry, but just occasionally she would give him some indication that she was indeed concerned for Trip’s safe return. They had identified several star systems that could potentially contain the planet that Trip knew as Coriolis. They were all dotted along the Klingon border and had stars that could support life on a planet in the correct orbit. T’Pol had identified some of the planets and ruled them out from other information, but it still left quite a few that could be the one they were looking for. “How long do you estimate we have until we arrive at Coriolis?” Archer asked T’Pol. “The borders of the Klingon Empire are still some distance away at their closest point, so it depends greatly on how far from the border Coriolis is. There are a number of possible planetary systems on our current trajectory, the closest of which is only three days away. If Coriolis is in that system then we are very close.” “And if it isn’t?” “The next planetary system is five days away, at warp three point five. The one after that is ten days away at the same speed. However if Vector changes course at this point then other systems are also well within its range.” “We left Andoria six days ago, and Trip’s call for help was seven days ago,” said Archer, frustrated. “For all we know, whatever Trip was warning us about has already happened and we’ll be too late when we arrive to do anything about it.” “Unless we are able to think of a better solution than to follow the Vector, I can’t see of any way of reducing our journey time.” T’Pol was being her usual logical self, but her summary of the situation, although correct, didn’t make him feel any better about things. “What do you plan to do when we arrive?” Archer shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s a top secret MACO base, and we aren’t supposed to be anywhere near it.” “Whatever they are doing there, it is most likely illegal under our interplanetary agreements. We would not be outside our rights to question them, and investigate what is going on there.” “Colonel Andros didn’t become Head of MACO intelligence by being foolish. From what I’ve learnt about her, she’s a calculating and intelligent woman. She must have an exit strategy and if Enterprise just arrives and goes into orbit around Coriolis then she’ll put that plan into action.” “Perhaps arriving in Enterprise is in fact the problem,” said T’Pol. “Our long range scans of the Vector indicate the it is not well armed.” Archer looked at T’Pol, slightly surprised. “Are you suggesting that we capture the Vector and use it as a Trojan horse?” “I am sure that Lieutenant Reed can devise a method of boarding it that will result in minimal casualties, and not disable the engines.” Archer nodded and was about to summon Reed when he had a thought. “Is Darwin out of sickbay yet?” “He was discharged to his quarters this morning.” Darwin’s injuries had been more severe than his own. Not only had he had his own crash injuries, which had been worse than Archer’s, but his hands had been badly burned by their attempt to get a message out to Enterprise. Phlox had passed on a few tips to Kanatova about treating burns and it seemed that the Colonel would make a full recovery with no loss of mobility. Darwin had been in a permanent bad mood whilst in sickbay and no doubt Kanatova was pleased to see the back of him. Archer depressed the button to activate his desk com unit. “Hoshi, please ask Colonel Darwin and Lieutenant Reed to report to the Captain’s Ready Room.” “Yes, sir,” replied Hoshi. Reed and Darwin arrived a few minutes later. Neither of them looked particularly happy to see the other and after the previous times Darwin had been on board Enterprise, Archer wasn’t surprised. “Commander T’Pol has suggested that we capture the Vector and use it to get us to Coriolis,” said Archer. “We need a plan to take it without damaging it and preferably without harming any of the crew. Ideas?” Darwin was nodding. “I like the concept. If we were to turn up at Coriolis in Enterprise, I’m pretty sure we’d spend the next month picking up the pieces. Daria will have something up her sleeve, she always does. As to how we take the Vector, maybe we don’t need to even fire a shot. My information says that the Captain is a guy called Lucas Evarra. I know him, and he doesn’t like the Colonel very much. His crew are either Starfleet rejects or ex-boomers, their loyalty is to Evarra first and Starfleet second. Get me an open com channel and I can probably talk him round.” “That would give away our position,” said Reed. “I’d prefer we captured the ship and then got chatty, but Colonel Darwin does have a point. It might be enough to threaten opening fire on them, from what we’ve been able to detect they have almost no weaponry and certainly nothing that would penetrate our polarised hull plating. We could fire a few shots across her bow, take out their weapons if necessary, and hope that they get the idea.” Darwin shook his head. “You’re not listening to me. I knew his daughter. She was a MACO. I promise you, if you let me talk to him, he’ll hand over the Vector.” “I fail to see how knowing his daughter gives us any advantage,” said Reed, tersely. Archer was slightly bewildered by the apparent reversal of roles that he was witnessing. Normally Reed would have been advising caution and Darwin would have told them to go in with guns blazing. Perhaps the Colonel’s stint on Andoria had mellowed him slightly, or maybe he wasn’t the man that Archer had at first taken him for. T’Pol, who had been silent through out this exchange, now spoke up. “Perhaps you should explain further, Colonel.” Darwin gave a reluctant nod. “His daughter was Terri Arroya. Her mother was a MACO too, Sergeant Rita Arroya. She was stationed on Evarra’s ship and was killed in a skirmish with some Nausicaans over a trade route when Terri was a baby. Evarra couldn’t look after a small child and stay in Starfleet, so she was raised by her grandparents. Later he made contact again and from what Terri told me, he made up for lost time. She was always writing to him and getting letters.” “When she was killed it must have been very difficult for him,” said Archer. “I doubt he’s even had time to visit her grave. I’m pretty damn sure he’d rather be at home on Earth than playing shuttle bus for Daria. This is a man who has lost everyone that he ever cared about. All he has left are his career in Starfleet and the people that knew Terri.” “Lieutenant Arroya was only killed because she was part of your Special Projects Unit,” said Reed. “I’m well aware of that, Lieutenant, but he doesn’t know that Arroya was part of the original Special Projects Unit, and the story we released was that she was killed when she surprised a burglar in her apartment.” T’Pol looked at Darwin. “We know that Commander Tucker helped to upgrade Vector’s engine, so it seems likely that he went beyond his designated duties whilst on board Vector. In my experience with humans, this usually leads to feelings of gratitude.” “T’Pol’s right,” said Archer. “Trip upgrading their engines has got to have made Evarra pretty happy. He’s still Andros’s man though.” “She probably has something on him, like she had on Trip,” said Darwin. “Andros blackmailed Commander Tucker?” asked Reed. “What with?” “Me,” replied Archer, guiltily. “We think she suggested to him that I would have Enterprise taken away from me if he didn’t cooperate.” “That makes sense. Trip would have felt he had no choice. He told me that Andros was sending someone to Andoria who was potentially there to attack you and Commander T’Pol.” Archer noticed T’Pol straighten slightly at this revelation and wondered what it meant. Trip obviously cared about her enough that Andros would consider her worth threatening, but was that only as a friend? Archer decided that there had been enough talk and it was time for action. “Pull Enterprise up beside Vector, let’s let them know that we’re here. Target weapons as you suggested, Mr Reed, and then we’ll talk to Captain Evarra about where we go from there.” “Yes, sir,” replied Reed. All the officers headed out to the bridge, ready to intercept Vector. ****End of Chapter Eleven**** Trip was awoken from his rather fitful sleep by someone calling his name. During his last session with Colonel Andros he’d made her rather more angry than he’d intended and she’d taken the interrogation to a new level, cutting several broad slashes across his arm. They ached fiercely and had been causing him more pain than the rest of his injuries put together. “Commander Tucker? Commander Tucker!” He looked over to the door and caught sight of the face of Corporal Jensen peering through the grill on the door. He pushed himself up off the bed, going to door. “Time for breakfast, Corporal?” he asked. “I guess you finally drew the short straw with guard duty.” Jensen shook his head. “No, I’m here to get you out. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to come down here, but Andros is serious about security. She’s doubled the guards on the High Security area. I had to swap shifts with PFC Roberts just to get in here. I think she knows that I served under Colonel Darwin and hasn’t been giving me any guard shifts in the High Security Area. You’ve got at least a couple of friends on this base. Jerry was asking questions earlier, asking to see you, but he was told that you went back to Earth. He didn’t believe it so we put together a plan to get you out.” “You tell Jerry from me that he’s to keep out of this and to go back to Amy and stay there. You shouldn’t be here either. This whole place is under surveillance.” “Jerry arranged for there to be a small glitch in the system. We need to get you out of here today. I was on bodyguard duty for Colonel Andros and I heard her talking about using you to test a virus vaccine on. If they’re going to test a vaccine then…” Jensen just looked meaningfully at Trip. “They have to infect me with the virus,” finished Trip. “Great. I guess she finally decided that I’m expendable.” “As far as she’s concerned, you are. The Coriolans finished the engine. All they have to do is get it into orbit; they’ve got the infrastructure of a ship waiting for it.” “How the hell did they manage that?” “The Coriolans have had pre-warp ships for some time. All they needed to do was retrofit it using Starfleet plans.” “Damn it, this means they have a way of getting the virus to the Klingons that has no link to Earth. The Klingons are going to wipe the Coriolans out when they trace it back here. We have to stop it somehow, destroy the virus and the engine.” “We’ve got to get you out of here first.” Jensen took out a couple of tools, which he proceeded to pick the manual lock with. It took a couple of goes but eventually the lock disengaged. He then took out a small box that he attached to the keypad. It was similar to Trip’s electronic lock pick, except that he recognised Coriolan design when he saw it. This was definitely more of Jerry’s work. It cycled through all the possible combinations and the door finally clicked open. Trip stepped out of the cell. “Thanks. Do you think we could do the same for my friend?” “Friend?” asked Jensen. Trip had already moved down the row of cells and was banging on the door. “Hey, wake up, Gaht of the House of Duron, we’re getting out of here.” Jensen came up beside him. “You want me to release a Klingon? Jerry could only give us a short window while the surveillance equipment would be down, we need to go.” Trip just indicated the door lock with a hand. “We don’t have much time, Corporal.” Gaht had risen from where he’d been lying on his bunk. “I didn’t think humans were honourable enough to keep their word to an enemy.” “Well this one is. We’ll have you out of there in a few seconds,” said Trip. Jensen was repeating the process with this door that he had with Trip’s own cell. Gaht paced impatiently as Jensen worked. The locks clicked open and the Klingon threw the door wide with a cry of triumph. “Show me how to get out of this hell hole,” said the Klingon. “There’s a couple of things that we need to do first,” said Trip. “For you maybe, but I’m taking the first ship I can find off this backwater planet and getting away from here.” “I wouldn’t have taken you for a coward,” said Trip. “If we don’t stop Andros, she’s going to unleash a killer virus on Quo’nos. I’d have thought you might want to help.” Gaht grabbed hold of Trip’s collar. “No one calls Gaht of the House of Duron a coward! Give me a weapon and tell me who to shoot.” “You got a couple of spare phase pistols on you, Jensen?” asked Trip, holding out a hand to the man who stood just behind his right shoulder looking worried. “You’re kidding, right? You want me to give a weapon to a Klingon?” “Just give him the damn phase pistol, we don’t have time to argue,” spat Trip. Jensen reluctantly handed over a phase pistol to the Klingon and Gaht let go of Trip’s shirt. Gaht examined the phase pistol. “Small, but it’ll have to do.” “I thought you might want this back,” said Jensen, handing Trip the phase pistol that Reed had given him. “Lieutenant Reed gets his phase pistol back,” said Trip, with a small smile. “And this,” said Jensen, giving Trip his pocket knife. Trip openly grinned now and pocketed the knife, giving Jensen a friendly pat on the shoulder as he moved towards the exit from the cell block. He peeked out of the small porthole window in the door, trying to get a look out down the corridor. “What was your escape plan?” “Kick ass and take names, sir. With a Klingon on our side we shouldn’t have much trouble.” Trip nodded. “Okay, you take point. Gaht, behind him. I’ll bring up the rear and watch our backs.” “I do not follow anyone, and I’m not on your side,” the Klingon growled. “Listen, you stubborn asshole of a Klingon, Jensen knows his way around here better than you or I do. We’ll have a damn sight better chance of getting out of here in one piece if he leads the way and we stick together.” “I have killed men for lesser insults, but I suppose you are correct. Let the Corporal lead the way.” “Good, I’m glad we got that settled,” said Trip, indicating for Jensen to go ahead. “Maybe now we can get the hell out of here and do what we need to do.” Jensen checked that the corridor was empty and stepped out of the cell block, hugging the wall. Gaht followed him cautiously, but he had the bearing of someone who had done this sort of thing before. Trip stepped out after the Klingon and kept a look out behind them so that they wouldn’t get any nasty surprises. He noted that the guards outside the cell block were missing and wondered what Jensen had done with them. They were probably tied up somewhere after failing to assess Jensen as a threat. They were suddenly confronted with three MACOs coming towards them. Jensen opened fire, Gaht and Trip followed his example, using the doorway for cover. Apparently Trip wasn’t the only good marksman, Jensen picked off one of the three with a very tricky shot. Trip managed to get the second and the third, but the sound of phase rifle fire had to have attracted some attention. They removed the phase rifles from the MACOs that they’d stunned, Gaht obviously appreciating the larger weapon. Trip holstered his own small phase pistol and nestled the rifle in the crook of his arm, ready for use if necessary. It felt surprisingly comfortable to be in possession of a MACO weapon again, but he was glad that it had a stun setting. An alarm began to sound and Trip expected to see more MACOs come running any second. “I guess they know we’ve escaped,” said Trip, over the loud klaxon. Jensen nodded. “This isn’t good. We need to get out of the High Security Area. There’re too many patrols here, we’ll never get to the virus without getting caught. Andros isn’t stupid, she’ll be waiting for us to go for the lab.” Trip couldn’t believe their bad luck, he’d expected at least enough time to get to the biochemistry lab before the alarm was sounded. His jaw was set with annoyance as he rethought their plan. “Okay, we leave the virus for now and get to the engine. Without that they can’t get the virus to Quo’nos.” Jensen gave a swift nod of agreement. Gaht said nothing but inclined his head to one side sharply, indicating that they should get moving again. Trip definitely agreed that this wasn’t the best place to stand around talking and gave Jensen the MACO hand signal to move out again. Jensen led them around the maze like corridors. So far they had the edge because surprise was on their side and the other MACOs had no idea where they were. Their luck ran out when they literally bumped into a patrol of four MACOs who were coming the other way around a corner. Trip didn’t waste time, he swept a leg out taking down the nearest MACO to him. Gaht had simply sent two fists flying in upper cuts towards the two MACOs in front of him, easily sending them sprawling to the ground. Trip almost felt sorry for them, two humans against the Klingon just wasn’t fair on the humans. Jensen was also now engaged in hand to hand combat with one of the MACOs. Trip’s opponent had regained his feet and was trying his best to pummel the Starfleet engineer into the ground, but Trip decided it was time to stop going easy and allowed his MACO side to take over, just this once. MACO Trip could block flawlessly and keep his balance while dodging, kicking and punching. Engineer Trip over-thought things and would occasionally let a punch through that MACO Trip had seen coming. But MACO Trip had the ability to kill which was why Trip normally preferred to keep his MACO side firmly under control. He’d been working hard with Lieutenant Reed recently to channel his MACO training and integrate it into a more healthy combat style. It seemed to be working as he finally took down his opponent with a clean blow to the head, carefully calculated to disable but not kill. He looked around to find that Gaht was helping out Jensen and the two of them had dealt with the other three MACOs, who were all now unconscious on the floor. “Come on,” he said. “We should keep moving before someone finds these guys.” Miraculously they were able to keep out of sight until they reached the exit that led into the main portion of the base. There they hit a problem. The exit was well guarded both inside and out. The last time Trip had left through this exit, he’d just flashed his ID and gone through. The guards had known he’d been brought into the infirmary and were expecting to see him leave. This time was rather different. “Any ideas?” Trip asked his two companions, as they hid round the corner just out of sight. “Maybe we could stun them from here?” Trip looked at the distance and thought about it, but he just couldn’t guarantee that he could be accurate enough to hit them. “Too far. You could take us through as prisoners?” “They’d be suspicious as soon as they saw us. If prisoners are being moved, they’d have received notification.” “You’re both snivelling cowards,” said Gaht, and walked into the middle of the corridor. He broke into a run, charging towards the two guards on duty. They were stunned for a couple of seconds and then opened fire. Gaht had anticipated this and dived to the floor, rolling into a crouch. Trip realised that this was their chance and they had to take advantage of the situation. Without a second thought he followed Gaht firing as he did so, distracting the guards further and allowing the Klingon to get in two good shots from almost point blank range. Both guards fell to the floor, stunned, as they were trying to take cover. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind, but it did the job,” said Trip. The Klingon threw his head back and roared with laughter, then proceeded to disarm the guards. “This is what being a warrior is all about.” He threw the two phase rifles that they had been armed with over one of his shoulders. Trip couldn’t help but notice that they looked a little flimsy on his large bulk. Just as Jensen joined them to deal with the coded keypad, they heard the unmistakeable whine of phase weapons being set to stun. The three of them turned around to find that they had been surrounded. Trip raised his hands in the air, and came face to face with the one person he really didn’t want to see as she stepped to the front of the group. She was dressed in full MACO combat fatigues, the Colonel’s eagle clearly visible on her shoulder tabs, and her face was set in a frown. “Commander Tucker, I would have thought that you’d have realised by now just how futile it is to try to go against me. And I am most disappointed in you, Corporal Jensen. I’d thought that I had picked my men rather better than that, but I suppose even the best of us can make mistakes. I am surprised to see the Klingon with you, however. I would have expected that even you would have realised the value of removing as many of them from the universe as possible, especially after your most recent encounter with one.” “I’m not going to judge the whole species by the actions of an individual,” said Trip, angrily. He hoped that Gaht was paying attention to this, because he sure as hell didn’t want the Klingon to judge the whole of humanity just by looking at Colonel Andros. “Nice words, Commander. It’s a shame that it’s a lie. Klingons are all savages, unfit to have warp technology.” Andros gave Gaht a look of pure hatred. “You insult my race. You have no honour!” The Klingon snarled. “Is that why you’ve been engineering a virus? Because you don’t think that they should be out here?” “No, Commander, I’ve been engineering a virus because I want to rid the universe of the blight that is the Klingon race. My virus will wipe them out.” “They’re living beings just the same as the rest of us, and they’ve got the same right to be here that we have. You can’t kill an entire race. It isn’t right.” “Who are you to preach morality to me, Commander. You, Darwin and the rest of your Special Projects friends, killed enough in your time.” “We didn’t kill anyone we didn’t have to.” “I’m not going to argue semantics with you, Tucker. I don’t have time. Vector has just returned from her trip to Andoria and Major Sandrikov will be waiting to brief me on how he assassinated Captain Archer and Commander T’Pol.” “Why you…” Trip lunged towards Andros, his anger red hot at the prospect that his friends were dead. He was stopped from carrying out his intent of strangling Andros by four MACOs who now restrained him, two on each side. He struggled vainly for a moment before he gave it up as futile. “You only have yourself to blame. I gave you the opportunity to cooperate and you refused.” “You’re lying. They’re not dead.” Andros smiled. “If I was you, I’d be worrying more about yourself. You’ve been nothing but trouble since you got here, Commander, and you will pay for that. My engineered virus has displayed rather more tendency to jump between species than I would have liked and we want to make sure that our vaccine is working as well as it should. Until now I’ve needed you as insurance that our delivery system for the virus would be ready, but I’ve been informed that the engine and ship hull are both complete. This means that you’ve just become expendable and you’re going to become the first test subject for our new vaccine. I hope you survive, I really do, because I’ve got some interesting ways to execute you lined up, just in case. Unfortunately, our last tests didn’t go too well, so I’m not holding out much hope. At least we now have Corporal Jensen available for a second test. Take them all to the labs. Let Doctor Shirek have them.” The MACO guards pushed Trip, Jensen and Gaht down the hall towards the labs, Andros following them. They reached the lab, an area constructed of walls with large glass windows, with bio hazard symbols emblazoned across them. Each lab had airlocks and dealt with different levels of containment. Within the lab was a separate section that contained beds and isolation facilities, for observing and studying those who contracted the disease. An outer area contained computers and other equipment for general research that didn’t require biohazard containment procedures. Trip would have described the whole complex as “state of the art”. As they entered, a blue skinned, white haired, antennaed head turned towards them. He was wearing a white lab coat over an Imperial Guard uniform and for a moment Trip didn’t know what to make of finding an Andorian in the lab. His first thought was that he was a prisoner too, but that didn’t seem to add up. He guessed there could only be a few people available to Andros to run her lab, so she had brought in an Andorian. “Doctor Shirek,” said Andros. “Some prisoners for you.” “What am I supposed to do with them?” the Andorian asked testily. “Whatever you like. I heard that you have a vaccine that needs testing.” “Yes, yes, but I wasn’t expecting test subjects until later,” replied Shirek. “Oh put them in…” They never found out where Shirek was planning to put them because Andros’ communicator beeped at her and she answered it, interrupting the Andorian doctor. “Andros, make it quick.” A tinny voice replied. “Ma’am, Starfleet personnel are attacking the base.” “What?” shouted Andros. “They came down from the Vector. It must have been compromised. They’ve already made it into the base using Captain Evarra’s key code.” An alarm began to sound. This wasn’t the same as the alert which had sounded when Trip and Gaht had made their escape from the holding cells, this was an entirely different sound, with an urgency to it that reminded Trip of Enterprise’s Tactical Alert. It distracted everyone for a split second and Trip didn’t need an engraved invitation to know that this was his chance. He lashed out at the nearest MACO and expertly disarmed them, once again thanking Major Hathaway for her superb tuition in hand to hand combat. Jensen and Gaht had followed his lead. The three of them dived behind a lab bench for cover, picking off MACOs from their position of strength. The room filled with phase rifle fire, and shattered equipment from stray shots, until only stunned MACOs and a cowering Andorian were left. Trip stood, shouldering his recently acquired rifle. He looked down at the stunned bodies on the floor, failing to see the one that he wanted. “Where’s Andros?” Jensen stood beside Trip looking across the lab bench. “She must have got out in the confusion.” “God damn it,” cursed Trip. “We’ve got to find her before she does something stupid. She really doesn’t like Klingons.” “The rumour is that a Klingon gave her that scar,” said Jensen, meaning the one that marred Andros’ face. “I guess the rumour’s right and she’s got a grudge against them.” “It’s rather more than a grudge, she’s planning on wiping them out,” said Trip. “She has no honour. She refuses to stand and fight,” added Gaht, looking around the room as if he expected the MACOs to spring back up again at any moment. “If she thinks that the base is compromised, then she’s probably going for the self-destruct,” said Jensen. “This base has a self-destruct mechanism?” asked Trip, but as he asked it, he realised that it was a stupid question. This was exactly the kind of thing that Special Projects did to hide their tracks. Jensen nodded. “It’s a powerful nuclear device that will destroy the base and anything within ten miles of here.” Trip was aware that this included the Coriolan town and all its inhabitants, most of whom had no idea of what was going on in the MACO base just down the road. “It’s supposed to ensure that nothing of this base is left. It’s set from her office, but it needs two command officers and Sandrikov was on Vector. God knows what happened there.” “I’d say Enterprise happened.” Trip allowed himself a smile at the thought of that. Sandy was probably sat in Enterprise’s brig, if he knew Captain Archer. “There are other command officers.” “What are we going to do with him?” asked the Klingon, gesturing rather carelessly with a phase rifle at Doctor Shirek. Trip went over to one of the isolation rooms and briefly looked over the door controls. As he thought, it was only possible to open the room from the outside. “We’ll leave him in here until we can come back for him. Maybe then we’ll have time to ask him what the hell he’s doing here.” Shirek had risen to his feet. “I have powerful friends on Andoria. You had best not set foot on my home planet again if you imprison me now, Commander Tucker.” “Give it a rest, Doctor. You’ve committed more crimes in this one lab than I can count, and once the Andorians hear what you’ve done, they’ll lock you up and throw away the key.” Trip thumbed open the door, which slid across smoothly. “Get in there before I decide to just shoot you.” Shirek said nothing else but walked haughtily into the isolation room. Trip closed the door and checked that it was locked. “Come on, we’ve got to find Andros before she blows this place sky high and takes us and half of Coriolis with it.” Trip ran out of the lab, noting that the corridors were now empty. Everyone was probably busy trying to repel Reed’s security teams. He hoped that the Enterprise contingent was winning, but was sure they wouldn’t mind some help once they’d solved their immediate problem. Jensen typed in his code to exit the High Security Area and the, now unguarded, door opened onto a ferocious fire fight. On one side Captain Archer, Lieutenant Reed and a couple of Starfleet Security personnel were crouched behind some handily placed crates of supplies, on the other were five MACOs from Sandrikov’s elite security team, taking advantage of a corner. He was glad to see that Andros had indeed been lying when she’d told him that Captain Archer was dead, he hoped that she’d been lying about T’Pol as well. Trip used the doorway for cover and opened fire on the MACOs, Jensen and Gaht helping out. Eventually all five MACOs were stunned and wouldn’t be causing anyone any trouble for a while. “Trip!” said Reed, happily, seeing the Engineer, then he caught sight of the tall Klingon. “Who’s your friend?” “This is Gaht of the House of Duron, he was captured by Andros in a raid on a Klingon outpost. He’s been helping us. And Corporal Jensen, formerly under the command of Colonel Darwin.” “You can give us all the details later. It’s good to see you.” Archer was smiling and gave Trip a friendly thump on his shoulder. Unfortunately it found one of his more painful bruises and he winced involuntarily. “Are you okay?” asked Reed. “Kanatova’s around somewhere. We should get her to take a look at you.” “I thought you were going to drop Kana off at Vulcan?” asked Trip, and then waved a hand to cancel the question. “Never mind, I’m fine anyway. I’m sure she’s got more important things to do.” “My definition of fine doesn’t involve a black eye,” said Archer, indicating Trip’s most obvious injury. “Ah, that’s just a love tap from one of Andros’s henchmen.” “Yes, but what else are you hiding under there,” said Reed, with a knowing look at the blood on Trip’s sleeve that had leaked through from the cuts underneath. Suddenly there was phaser fire from further down the corridor and they all took refuge in the doorway to the High Security Area. “We’ll finish this conversation at a more appropriate time,” said Archer, and Trip knew that he was off the hook for the moment. Archer took aim and fired, before he continued. “Maybe you should tell me what’s been going on here.” “That is a long story,” Trip said between bursts of phase rifle fire from both sides. “Short version, Colonel Andros is developing a killer virus to wipe out the entire Klingon race. She’s using the engine I helped the Coriolans build to deliver the virus so that it looks like they’re the ones who did it. She gets a couple of bonus prizes of dilithium crystals and a base of operations near Klingon space. There’s one thing I don’t understand though, she’s got an Andorian doctor working on the virus.” “I think I can explain that and it helps with what’s been happening on Andoria. They have an organisation called the Vela Kari, an Andorian version of Special Projects. They’ve obviously been working with Special Projects to develop this virus and destroy the Klingon Empire.” “It makes sense, it’s one less enemy for them to worry about, and like Andros said, Special Projects is all about removing threats before they become real threats.” More phase rifle fire erupted from the direction of the Special Projects MACOs, but this time from behind their position. They found themselves taking fire from two directions and rapidly were stunned and on the ground. Kanatova, Darwin and T’Pol stepped out and around the prone MACOs. “We thought you could use a hand,” said Darwin, grinning. “And you appear to have found our lost sheep.” “Colonel! I thought you were on Andoria,” Trip was stunned. “Well someone had to keep Archer out of trouble,” said Darwin. Archer did not look at all happy about this remark but he said nothing. “The Colonel refused to remain on Andoria,” said T’Pol. Kanatova just gave a knowing laugh which made Trip think that there was more to it than T’Pol had said. Trip noticed that the Colonel had bandages around both hands, but he still seemed to be able to handle a phase pistol, and knowing how the Colonel dealt with injury, Trip decided not to say anything. “T’Pol, I’m so glad to see you. Did you leave anyone on Enterprise?” “Lieutenant Hess has been left in Command,” said T’Pol. “Trip, you don’t look like you’ve been taking very good care of yourself,” said Kanatova. “You can check me over later, Anna. We’ve got to find Colonel Andros.” “What’s going on?” asked Darwin. “We think she’s planning to destroy the base,” said Jensen. “It figures, she never did like anyone taking anything from her. She fought tooth and nail over who got the cat when we got divorced, and she didn’t even like that cat.” “Hold it, you were married to Colonel Andros?” Trip couldn’t believe that one of the men he most respected had been married to a woman he only held contempt for. The idea that Darwin had owned a cat was a bit of a shock too, he’d never really seen him as an animal person, but then he hadn’t even known that he’d been married. He dismissed this thought for another time. “She wasn’t always bitter and power hungry, that came later,” said Darwin. “There was an incident with some Klingons a few years ago and ever since then she’s been advocating that we move against them.” “Yeah, well she’s gone a step further than that. She’s got a bioengineered virus that she’s planning to use to wipe them out with.” “Damn it. I knew she’d end up doing something stupid, but I had no idea it would be this big.” “She needs another officer to set the self-destruct and I’m betting you’ve got Sandrikov in the brig,” said Trip. “So we should have some time while she finds one of the Captains.” Reed and Archer exchanged a guilty look. Reed was the one who gave him the story. “We captured the Vector, or rather Captain Evarra handed the Vector over to us after Colonel Darwin talked to him. Major Sandrikov was on board the Vector, but we never found him. I left a security team looking for him, but if I was him I’d want to get back here. The good news is that we already have Captains Donovan and Ryvich in custody. I’ve got teams rounding up everyone on the base.” “In that case, we don’t have time to stand around talking,” Trip said. Trip led the way down the corridor at a jog, still holding his phase rifle and aware that there were probably other MACOs still at large. He didn’t check that the others were following, he just assumed that they were and kept going. He reached Andros’ office and stopped beside the door of the outer office. Darwin fell in on the opposite side of the door, Archer behind him, Reed and T’Pol beside Trip. They heard indistinct shouting from inside. Darwin gave Trip a hand signal and then indicated that they should enter on three. Trip signalled back in the affirmative, hoping that the rest of the group got it. On three he opened the door and was faced with two phase pistols pointed at him by Andros and Sandrikov who stood in the doorway of the inner and outer offices. Trip and Darwin moved forward into the room. “Put down the weapon, Daria,” said Darwin, “you too, Mikhail.” Reed, Archer and T’Pol filed in behind them. “You idiot!” shouted Andros at Darwin. “You got Starfleet involved in a covert MACO operation!” “Hey, you’d already got Starfleet involved when you blackmailed me into coming here,” replied Trip. “Give it up, Colonel, you’re outgunned and your plan has failed.” “Wrong again, Tucker, you’re too late, the self-destruct is already set,” replied Andros. Trip looked through to Andros’s office and saw that where there had previously been a map, was a control panel and a flashing red light, with a number beside it counting down. “Daria, think about what you’re doing,” said Darwin. “Shut it down,” said Trip, his teeth barred, as he moved closer towards Andros. “No,” said Andros. “Did I mention that I also brought insurance from our visit to the labs?” She undid the top pocket of her uniform and carefully drew out a small vial. “This is the virus that we were planning to test on you. I’d be very upset if this were to break and infect not only you but your friends, and even perhaps some of Coriolis.” Her eyes darkened. “Stun me and I’ll drop it. Kill me and the same thing happens. I suppose you might be quick enough to catch it but I’m not sure that you’d want to test that. Now put down your weapons.” Trip hesitated, as did all the others. “I said put them down! Or so help me, I’ll infect this whole damn planet.” “We’d better do as she says, Trip,” said Archer, laying down his own weapon. Reed and T’Pol followed his lead, with Darwin and Trip reluctantly doing the same. Darwin and Trip exchanged a look, but Trip knew that Darwin was trying to tell him not to do anything stupid. Apparently it wasn’t Trip who he needed to worry about. Before anyone had realised what had happened, Reed, who had crouched down to place his weapon on the floor, had barrelled into Major Sandrikov’s legs, sending him crashing to the ground. The two men began an earnest fist fight. Trip took less than half a second to realise that it was now or never. He was the closest to Andros and the most likely to be able to take her down safely. He took a flying leap at her, carefully grabbing her hand with the vial in it as he did so, and the two of them fell through the doorway into the inner officer. Somehow Andros kicked him off and righted herself, still clutching the vial. Her phase pistol was left on the floor in the outer office, lost when Trip tackled her. “That was very stupid, Tucker.” Trip knew there was only one way to handle this. He got to his feet, backed up to the wall and elbowed the door shut with a thud. “If you wanted to get me alone, all you had to do was say,” taunted Andros. “I don’t know what you’re playing at here, but it won’t help you. Move away from the door.” “Give me the virus, shut down the self-destruct, and I’ll let you walk out of here without laying a finger on you.” “I’m the one holding all the cards, Tucker. We could stand here all day, talking about it. Except unfortunately we don’t have all day. If you want to live then you’ll let me go and get out of this complex as quickly as possible.” “I’d say the question is, do you want to live?” Trip picked up a large paperweight from Andros’ desk, it was a MACO star encased in heavy, inches thick, glass. He turned around and as swiftly as he could engaged the locking mechanism, then smashed the paperweight into the keypad. “You idiot, you’ve killed us both!” Trip shook his head. “Just because it’s broken doesn’t mean that it can’t be opened, but I’ll need a bit of time. Shut down the self-destruct and hand me the virus. Then we’ll talk about getting out of here.” Andros’ eyes sparked fire for a moment and it looked as if she would argue, but then her shoulders dropped. “Very clever, Tucker. I should have known you’d do something like this. Rob was always a good judge of character. Here, take it.” Andros held out the vial to him and Trip reached out for it. His hand never closed around it however, suddenly Andros had changed her stance and he didn’t have time to block the fist that flew towards his face. He was sent flying to the floor by the unexpected impact. “No one has ever taken anything away from Daria Andros without paying the price, and you are not going to be the first. You jumped up, snivelling, grease monkey.” Andros aimed a kick at Trip’s midriff, but he rolled out of the way, catching her foot and pulling her down as he did so. She fell on her side, carefully keeping the vial off the floor, but a badly timed punch to her side from Trip jarred her enough that her grip loosened and the vial rolled out onto the floor and up against one of the desk legs. She kicked out at Trip’s thigh, making a grab for the vial but he pulled her away, throwing her towards the door. It was enough of a distraction that Trip could push himself up from the floor, but Andros had regained her feet as well. As Trip made a move to get the vial, Andros swept his feet out from under him, intending to take him down to the floor. The move went wrong though, when Trip managed to grab her as he fell and they both ended up off balance. Trip could only watch as the two of them fell towards the floor and the edge of the desk. Andros hit her head with a resounding crack, a sound which usually only meant one thing in Trip’s experience and that was a skull fracture. Trip avoided the desk thanks to Andros being in the way, but put a hand out to slow his fall and heard his own ominous sound as he hit the floor - the small crunch of a breaking test tube full of killer virus. ****End of Chapter Twelve**** Trip frantically searched the desk for the intercom and after shoving a few padds out of the way, located it. “Tucker to anyone in the outer office.” “Trip, open the door,” said Archer’s unmistakeable voice. “I can’t do that, Captain. I’ve got some broken glass in here. It’ll have to wait. The Colonel hit her head and she’s out for the count.” Trip was desperately undoing the face plate of the timing device for the self-destruct with his trusty pocket knife as he spoke. He realised as he held the knife that his left hand was bleeding from the impact with the vial and looked around for something to staunch the flow of blood. “Is Malcolm there? I’m going to need some help here. I’ve got to disarm this bomb.” “She broke the vial?” asked Archer. “It was more of an accident,” said Trip, locating a first aid kit on the wall of the office. He grabbed a bandage and hastily wrapped it around his hand. “Hopefully you should be okay as long as the door is between us.” “Tell me what you see, Trip,” said Reed, sounding amazingly calm. “A bunch of circuits wired up in parallel,” replied Trip, returning to the panel. “I’m a little out of my depth here, Malcolm.” “Have you got a scanner, or anything that could help you identify the circuits?” “How long do we have?” butted in Darwin. Trip checked the desk drawers for a scanner but he didn’t hold out much hope. The first aid kit had a medical scanner but he couldn’t spend time reconfiguring it for what he needed. This wasn’t his desk, which would have had everything that he required in it. He checked the timer. “Five minutes and twenty seconds.” Then he kicked himself and grabbed the monitor screen, switching it to video and manoeuvring it so that it was facing the self-destruct mechanism. “I’ve turned the monitor on, you should be able to see now.” He heard the sound of a chair being dragged out and a monitor being moved and turned on. A picture of Reed suddenly appeared on the screen, flanked by Darwin and Archer. All looked concerned, but Reed was studying the screen intently. Trip noted that the Armoury Officer had a split lip and a black eye of his own building. “Trip, what you’re looking at is a triple redundancy explosive device. You need to disarm all three circuits.” “Tell me what to do,” said Trip. “Everyone else should probably clear out.” “In less than five minutes? He can’t do it,” said Darwin, quietly to Reed, but Trip still heard. He noticed that Darwin didn’t move away from the screen, or try to get people to leave. “Well, we’re going to try,” replied Reed tersely. Archer had turned to T’Pol and was talking about getting everyone out of the building and beaming as many people up to Enterprise as was possible. T’Pol was pointing out that the base complex was heavily shielded and it would be impossible to beam anyone out. She was also suggesting that she should stay to help disarm the bomb, in case she was needed in her capacity as Science Officer. They continued to argue and it sounded like neither of them were prepared to go. Reed ignored what was going on around him and calmly began to tell Trip how to disarm the weapon. “Have you got something to cut the wires?” Trip flashed his pocket knife at Read. It was the kind that came with fold out wire clippers and screwdriver heads. He was very glad that he’d managed to get it back. “A good engineer is always prepared.” “Good, start with the first circuit on the left. If we do these in the wrong order then the counter will immediately go to zero. If you cause a short then the counter will go to zero. If you touch anything other than the wires I tell you to then the…” “Counter will go to zero. I’ve got it, Malcolm. You might want to speed up a little.” Reed nodded “You need to disarm that first circuit. You do that by cutting the connections to the second and third relays. Whatever you do, don’t touch the first relay while you’re doing it. The circuits all have motion sensors as well, so don’t tip it or jar it.” Trip noticed that he was sweating and wiped the back of his hand across his forehead. Then he dried the palm of his hand on the leg of his pants, which was a little sweaty too. He didn’t want to lose grip at a crucial moment because he had sweaty hands. He could almost feel the weight of the responsibility that rested on his shoulders. He wasn’t just trying to save his own life here, but the hundreds of Coriolans who lived near the base and the MACOs and Starfleet personnel who were just outside, many of whom were only here because he’d asked them to come. He folded out the wire cutters and very carefully, so that he didn’t touch any other wires, did exactly what Reed had told him to do. It was hard to cut slowly and without moving the entire circuit, engineers didn’t usually require finesse, but with some concentration he managed it. “Done,” said Trip, even though he was pretty sure that Reed could see that. “Okay, good work, next I want you to carefully disconnect the wires from the power source to the counter on the same circuit.” Once again Trip very carefully did as he was told. “Last thing for this circuit. You need to disconnect the first relay, again, be careful of the motion sensor.” Trip looked at the four relays on the circuit. He’d already disconnected the middle two. “Malcolm, are you calling the top or bottom the first one.” “The one nearest to you, the bottom one,” said Reed quickly. “Cutting,” said Trip and again he steadied his hand and cut the wires. He let out a sigh of relief as he finished and the timer was still counting down. Which was when he realised that it was now showing just over three minutes. It had taken him two minutes to deal with the first circuit and he had two circuits left. The math just didn’t add up. He needed to work faster. “Damn it, it’s taking too much time. I’m moving on to the next one.” “Okay, same again, disconnect the middle two relays.” Trip blinked sweat out of his eyes and cut the wires as carefully and quickly as he could. For a millisecond he touched the circuit board and held his breath as he thought that he’d tripped the motion sensors, but the counter resolutely continued towards zero. Reed maintained a running commentary on each step of the process as he disconnected the power supply and got to the final relay. “Trip, you might want to hurry,” said Reed. “We’ve got one minute fifteen to do this last circuit.” “I see it,” said Trip. He snipped the wires on the relays and then carefully moved onto the power supply connections. He couldn’t help keeping half an eye on the counter as it passed the minute mark and began counting down the last few seconds. He was just about to cut the final wire when Andros groaned. He lost valuable seconds just by turning to look at her, but she hadn’t moved and didn’t show signs of waking. The counter read twenty seconds as he made the final cut to disconnect the last relay. The wire snipped reassuringly and he looked up at the counter only to see that it now read eighteen seconds and was still counting down. “Malcolm, it hasn’t stopped,” said Trip. “I can see that,” said Reed, frantically peering at the screen. “I don’t understand it. There must be a second power supply. Look for a wire leading into the timer that doesn’t go through the circuits.” Trip pulled off the last remaining bits of panel in front of the workings of the timer and there was the wire. He put the wire clippers around it and sliced through it just as the counter read five seconds. He couldn’t help but close his eyes, expecting an explosion any minute around him. The explosion didn’t happen however and when he opened his eyes the counter showed three seconds left, but was frozen at that number. “You did it, Trip!” shouted Reed, obviously shaking the monitor screen with delight. Trip could hear whoops of joy in the background and something that sounded like Klingon. Trip grinned a slightly silly grin as he allowed himself a huge sigh of relief and leant back against the wall. He sat down on the ground with a relieved thump, carefully folding up his knife, and then he remembered that he had another problem. The adrenaline was leaving his body and leaving him feeling cold and a little weird. He got onto his hands and knees and crawled across the floor to where Colonel Andros lay in a pool of blood. She definitely wasn’t dead and if she was going to stay that way then Trip needed to stem the loss of blood. For the minutest of moments he actually did debate just leaving her to bleed to death, but he couldn’t do it. He grabbed the first aid kit and found a bandage. He wound it around the head wound as best he could but he wasn’t sure if he’d cause more damage by doing it too tightly. At least it did seem to be stopping some of the blood flow. He decided that moving her might do more damage, so he left her where she had fallen. He went back to the com unit on the desk and sat down in Andros’ chair. He looked at the screen to see Kanatova changing places with Reed. “How do you feel?” asked the MACO doctor. “Fine. A little light headed maybe, but I figure that’s just the adrenaline. Look, we’ve got to assume that Andros was telling the truth and she really did have a vial full of the virus.” Kanatova nodded. “We’ve already come to the same conclusion. We’re working on a plan to get you out of there without potentially infecting the base. We’re thinking of using the outer office as an airlock, but we’ll need to get you into bio hazard gear to get you to the isolation area in the biochemistry lab.” Trip nodded. “Makes sense.” “You are not to worry. We have been working on a cure for the virus on Andoria, which we are fairly certain is related to the virus that Andros was using to infect the Klingons. The Andorian virus was contracted by the crew of an Andorian ship visiting a Klingon outpost. We think they were sent there by the Vela Kari to find out if the virus had worked. It seems to take several weeks before symptoms begin to show. In any case, it is highly likely that Doctor Phlox has already developed an anti-viral, so it won’t be long before you’ll be out of isolation and getting into trouble again.” “Hey, I don’t get into trouble on purpose,” said Trip. “I’ve got another problem, Kana. Colonel Andros hit her head on the desk, it’s been bleeding pretty badly and I’ve bandaged it up, but is there anything else I can do?” Kanatova shook her head. “Not for the moment. Do you have a first aid kit?” “Yeah.” “Standard MACO issue, with a medical scanner?” “Yes, I’ve got it right here,” said Trip, picking up the scanner from the desk and flicking it open. “Good. I want you to scan yourself and then hold the scanner up to the monitor so the I can read the results.” Trip did as he was told, knowing that it would reveal the injuries from the beatings that he’d taken recently, but he wasn’t going to fool around trying to hide things from Kanatova at this point. She was doing her best to help him. He held the scanner up to the screen and Kanatova frowned as she took down the readings on a padd. “It seems that I was right when I said that you hadn’t been taking care of yourself,” said Kanatova. “Now isn’t the time to talk about my bruises, Anna,” said Trip. “It is rather more than bruises, but you are right, I do not need the details of how you acquired them.” She said something to someone off screen that Trip didn’t catch and then she was changing places with T’Pol. Trip smiled warmly at the new arrival and received a raised eyebrow in return. “I fail to see what is making you so happy about this situation, Commander.” “I’m just really pleased that you’re okay, T’Pol.” “I too am pleased that you are alive, but further pleasantries will have to wait for later” replied the Vulcan. “I have been asked to explain to you what is about to happen. As you stated, we must assume that the real virus was released and we have shut down all air conditioning systems in this area to prevent its further spread as a precaution. We will be sealing off this outer office and using it as an airlock so that we can retrieve both you and Colonel Andros. We will begin this process shortly, so we will shut this com link down and use our communicators to speak with you if necessary.” “How are you going to get in? Do you need me to open the door? I can do it, but it could take a little time. I did a fair amount of damage to the lock. It might be easier just to cut out the lock altogether.” “Captain Archer concurs with your assessment. A team with a cutting torch is already on its way but are waiting for appropriate bio hazard gear.” Trip nodded. “Okay, so then they’re going to get me and Andros into bio hazard gear and take us to isolation, where we get to stay until we either get sick or, after a reasonable period of time, we don’t.” “Correct. The incubation period for the Andorian virus was three weeks, so if you have not displayed symptoms after four weeks, you will be free to go.” “Four weeks? Great. Any chance you could get me some reading material. This is going to get really dull really fast with nothing to do but sit around.” Trip couldn’t think of much worse than being stuck in a small room waiting to get ill with nothing to keep himself occupied, especially given that he’d just spent a large amount of time in very small room waiting to be beaten up repeatedly. “I will see what I can do,” said T’Pol, she glanced over at someone else and, without so much as a goodbye, vacated the seat in favour of Captain Archer. Trip tried not to look disappointed as his best friend addressed the screen. “Hi Trip, I just wanted to talk to you before we send in the medical guys. Jensen tells me that it would have been very difficult for Andros to get a sample of the real virus out of the lab, so the odds are good that you’re not infected. We’ll know more once Kanatova can get in and take samples, but even if this is the real thing, Phlox has been working on a cure.” “Yeah, Kanatova’s already given me the speech about how I’m not supposed to worry,” said Trip. “Which makes me worry.” Archer gave him an understanding smile. “If I was in your position then I’m pretty sure I’d be worried too.” The smile left Archer’s face. “You took an incredible chance, Trip. If you hadn’t been able to work with Malcolm to disarm the self-destruct then we wouldn’t be talking now. Why did you close the door and break the lock?” “I didn’t want to risk anyone else getting infected with the virus. Plus she needed a reason to disarm the device and saving her own skin was about the only one that I could think of that she’d respond to. It didn’t exactly work out how I’d planned, but hell, I stopped her killing a few thousand Coriolans and probably saved the entire Klingon race. You can’t fault my results even if you don’t like my methods.” Archer sighed and shook his head. “When am I going to get it into that thick head of yours that you are not expendable?” Trip put on his best fake innocent face. “You mean Chief Engineers aren’t a dime a dozen back home?” “Trip Tuckers are not a dime a dozen anywhere,” said Archer, and paused. “We’ll get you through this, Trip, I promise.” “Thanks, Captain, but you might not want to make promises that you can’t keep,” said Trip. Archer opened his mouth to reply but T’Pol came up to him and whispered something in his ear. “Okay, Trip, the bio hazard crew are here with the cutting equipment. We’re going to clear out and let them do their work. We’ll wait for you at the isolation rooms.” “Damn, I nearly forgot. That Andorian doctor I told you about is locked in one of the isolation rooms. He’s Imperial Guard, probably a member of this Vela Kari outfit, and definitely responsible for mutating this virus into a weapon. You might want to move him to the cells, they’re like Fort Knox here. Watch him, I bet he’s a tricky son of a bitch.” “Okay, I’ll make sure he gets dealt with appropriately. Good luck.” Trip just gave him a smile and nodded in reply, as the connection went dead and he was left in Andros’ office with only the bleeding and unconscious Colonel for company. The whole place was too quiet for his tastes, he was used to the noise of Main Engineering, where everything was accompanied by the hum of the warp engine. Even the usual underlying sound of the flowing of air from the air conditioning had been silenced. All he could do for the moment was wait, and luckily it wasn’t a long wait. He heard cutting equipment being fired up and then the sound of metal falling to the ground as the lock gave way. The door was opened and a group of plastic clad people entered the office. Kanatova was one of them and Trip was inordinately pleased to see a friendly face, but after she had smiled in his direction she had to turn her attention to Andros, who was actually injured. “Commander Tucker, could you please put this on and come with us, sir,” said a MACO who he recognised as one of those permanently stationed on Enterprise. He couldn’t think of his name however and the name tag wasn’t visible. He accepted a plastic suit from the MACO, very like the one that the others wore and put it on as carefully and quickly as he could. The same MACO then checked the seals over and pronounced him ready to be moved. Andros was being moved onto a gurney with a plastic covering, which was obviously meant to serve the same function as his suit. Kanatova gave the other MACO a nod when she was satisfied that Andros was ready to move as well and the whole party moved out of the offices and into the corridor. Trip noticed that the whole place was empty, no doubt cleared as an extra precaution against any accidents with suit leaks. The walk to the biochemistry labs and the isolation rooms seemed to take longer than he remembered it, but when they got there everything had been prepared for them. Trip walked through the airlock into the small room that was probably going to be home for the next month. He watched as Andros was wheeled into another room where suited medical staff were waiting to deal with her head wound, but then he lost sight of her. A neatly folded set of white scrubs was waiting for him in the room. He stripped off the biohazard suit and other clothes and put them into the airlock ready to be collected and incinerated. He pulled on the scrubs quickly, glad not to have been made to suffer the indignity of a hospital gown. Kanatova appeared at the large glass window that ran along the length of one side of the room. She indicated an intercom at the side of the window and a small hatch into which she placed a hypospray. Kanatova activated the intercom. “I need a blood sample.” She didn’t ask if he knew how to take one, all Starfleet personnel were trained in basic first aid and that included how to take a blood sample plus a few other things. Trip nodded and retrieved the hypospray from the hatch. His side would only open once Kanatova had closed hers and vice versa. It acted as a small airlock, cycling the air every time something passed through. “How do you like your new accommodations?” she asked, as she watched Trip roll up his sleeve and put the hypo to a vein on his arm. “Home away from home,” said Trip, the sarcasm easily detected in his voice. The room contained a bed, a chair, a table and a small cubicle with sanitary facilities. Saying it was sparse was rather an understatement. “It could use a few pictures though.” “I can see if I can do something about that, if you like,” said Kanatova. Trip shook his head. “Nah, don’t bother. I’m not planning on staying long.” Something was bothering him about Kanatova and it took him a few moments to put his finger on what it was. She was being too nice to him and that meant she was really worried. The smile faded and he caught Kanatova’s eye. “Do you know if this is the real virus yet?” “We’re doing the tests now. I’ll let you know as soon as we have the results.” “How long will that be?” “A couple of hours. Not long.” “You’re not the one waiting.” Trip placed the blood sample into the hatch and closed the door. “I’ll do my best to hurry things up.” “How’s Andros doing? She smacked her head pretty hard.” “She has a fractured skull, other than that, I’ve left the medics from the base to deal with her so far. I couldn’t bring myself to treat her after I found out what she’d done to you.” Kanatova sounded as if she hadn’t meant to let that curious admission slip and she rushed on to her next sentence. “We need to take a look at your hand. Undo your bandage and hold it nearer the glass so that I can see the wound. How did you hurt it?” Trip used a combination of his teeth and other hand to undo the knot on the makeshift bandage that he’d hastily wrapped around his hand earlier. “I fell on the vial and that’s how it got broken. I couldn’t see any glass in the wound but I didn’t have much time to check.” He looked up to see Kanatova almost staring at him. “What?” “You didn’t tell me that you cut your hand on the vial,” said Kanatova, quietly. “You know that this is bad, yes?” “I figured it wasn’t a good thing.” Kanatova seemed to shake off her moment of weakness. She checked readouts on the bio displays that monitored the patient inside the room, which were positioned to the side of the window. “No glass in the wound. I’ll get you some fresh bandages, but you’ll have to put them on yourself. I can’t spare the time to suit up and do it myself.” “No problem. I expect I can do a bit of a better job this time.” Kanatova nodded and flashed him a smile again. “Until the test results come in you should get some rest. You look like you need.” Trip nodded and turned back to the bed, which did look pretty inviting. It had been a hard few weeks after all. **** “What’s the verdict?” asked Archer, looking at another incomprehensible view of the virus sample from Andros’ office that Kanatova had put up on the screen in the biochemistry lab. T’Pol, Reed and Darwin stood in a semi-circle around the MACO medic, their eyes all fixed on the screen. Only T’Pol looked as if she understood what she was looking at. “The virus that Andros released is definitely, and unfortunately, the real thing,” said Kanatova. “But it isn’t exactly the same as the virus we encountered on Andoria. I’ve been reading Doctor Shirek’s notes and he details all the various strains of virus that he worked on and created. What you’re looking at is the original virus that infected the Klingon outpost that the Telispa visited. The reason they didn’t continue their plan and infect the Klingon home-world was because this virus is flawed, at least as far as they were concerned. It’s only passed on by direct contact. It would take too long to infect everyone on Qo’nos and Andros’ plan wouldn’t have worked. This virus also has another rather nasty little trick – it jumps species.” “The majority of viruses are capable of transferring between species,” said T’Pol. “Not like this one,” said Kanatova. “It jumped from a Klingon to an Andorian in less than ten days. Not only is that a species jump but Klingon blood is iron based like human blood, it uses a protein called haemorythrin, similar to human haemoglobin. It’s why their blood is pink not red. Andorian blood is copper based, it uses a protein called haemocyanin.” T’Pol shifted her stance. “The virus will move to a human more easily.” Archer took a moment to realise that, while they had been on Andoria, T’Pol had been in far more danger than they had realised. Vulcans had copper based blood, like the Andorians, an irony that wasn’t lost on him given their enmity. He shook off the feeling of guilt that briefly washed over him for allowing T’Pol to go to Sera. He hadn’t known but, looking back, they should have both been more careful about decon procedures. Kanatova continued. “Trip cut his hand on the vial when it broke. Given the characteristics of this virus, if he doesn’t have it, then it will be a miracle.” Archer glanced around the assembled officers and took in their reactions to this news, even as he himself felt a deep cold settle in the very bottom of his stomach. Kanatova was doing an admirable job of containing her emotions, perhaps it was stereotypical Russian stoicism, but Archer could see in her eyes just how much this was upsetting her. T’Pol was doing an even better job, but even there he caught a glimpse of concern. Darwin looked shocked for less than a millisecond, but then he visibly put his professional demeanour back in place. Reed’s face was solemn, as if he was already attending his friend’s funeral. Archer hoped that it wouldn’t come to that. “When will we know for sure?” asked Darwin. Kanatova checked the clock in the lab. “A few more minutes, but we’ll be informed when the result is in.” “Maybe someone can explain how this all fits together with what happened on Andoria,” said Reed. “Assuming that it does?” T’Pol answered. “From my research in our databases, Doctor Shirek is an expert on biowarfare. He is most probably the reason Colonel Andros made her deal with the Vela Kari. He is one of only a very few people who could have done this and, indeed, who would have been willing to do it. He undoubtedly engineered this virus for Andros with the aim of using it to wipe out the Klingon race in collaboration with the Vela Kari.” Kanatova was nodding in agreement. “They used the Klingon outpost to test it, but from what happened next, it didn’t work in the way that they expected. They had captured Commander Gaht and shipped him back here to act as a control and then they sent a team of Coriolans to plant the virus on the base. They obviously didn’t think that they’d be infected as well. The entire Coriolan team died on the way back from the Klingon outpost. They never made it home.” “So the Vela Kari were partners in this and they sent the Telispa to find out what happened to the Coriolans?” asked Reed. Kanatova nodded. “They must also have arranged for Doctor Shirek to be brought to Coriolis. It was somewhere safe for him to work, where if there were any nasty accidents it wouldn’t be discovered. Unfortunately they brought the virus back to Andoria anyway.” “If they’d just briefed their ship better, told them what they were dealing with, then it probably wouldn’t have happened,” Darwin added. Archer decided not to say “I told you so” at this point and remind Darwin that he’d told him that too much secrecy got people killed. “At least it meant that we had some warning of Andros’ plan, although I wish we’d found out some other way.” “If my reading of the base logs is correct,” added T’Pol. “The Andorians were dispatched to the Klingon outpost because no other warp capable vessel was available. The Vector was on its way to Earth at this point for the scheduled supply run. The Coriolans only have impulse driven space vehicles and it would have taken them weeks to reach the Klingon outpost. A human ship could not be found in this area of space under any circumstances. Andoria is closer and more likely to send patrols into this area. The Telispa was simply the nearest ship that the Andorians possessed.” “If the Coriolans have no warp capable ships, not counting the one that Trip just built for them, how did they even get to the Klingon Outpost in the first place?” asked Reed. “I expect the Vector dropped them off in the outskirts of the system with the intention of collecting them on its return,” said Archer. “So the Coriolans could do all the dirty work while they sat safely at home,” added Darwin. “It was always Special Projects’ operating procedure not to be detected if possible. For the main attack they needed the opposite, she needed a real Coriolan ship to be seen. It takes a while for a virus to kill a whole planet full of people and in the mean time she wanted the Klingons to have something to attack. A pre-warp civilisation attacking them just wouldn’t have been realistic, so they had to have a warp engine.” “Which is why she needed Trip,” finished Reed. “So they were trying to ship Talerez to Coriolis to find out more about the virus?” “It seems so,” said Archer. Kanatova nodded once again. “We know very little about Klingon biology and they needed all the help that they could get to create the virus. The one thing they did get right was how quickly it worked. It was supposed to be fast and it took a lot less time to kill the Coriolans than the Andorian virus did to kill its victims, probably because the virus adapted more easily to another race with an iron based blood type. That is very bad news for Trip.” “How long did it take to kill the Coriolans?” asked Archer. “Including the incubation period, ten days at most,” replied Kanatova, looking solemn. “Which assumes that the virus in Trip mutates in a similar way and doesn’t turn into something that kills more quickly.” “Equally, it could mutate into a less virulent strain in humans,” pointed out T’Pol. “Our luck isn’t that good,” said Darwin. “So Trip is going to be dead in under ten days, unless we can find the cure?” asked Reed, disbelief in his voice. Kanatova just said nothing but her face said it all. Reed had said what they had all been avoiding. “But we have a cure, right?” asked Darwin. “That is what you’ve been telling Trip or have we all been lying to him? What about the Andorian?” “Shirek was working on a vaccine, not a cure,” said Kanatova. “He must have some idea how to deal with this thing.” Darwin looked as if he was ready to start punching people. “Give me some time alone with him and he’ll be begging to help us.” “No,” said Archer. “This is not Special Projects and we are not beating our prisoners to get their help. We’ll talk to him, but he is not to be touched.” “Damn it, Archer, this is Trip’s life at stake. Do you really want to protect that evil son of a bitch? He’s killed hundreds of people with his bio-weapons.” Darwin was livid and Archer did sympathise with his desire to beat the hell out of the man responsible for all this, but he couldn’t let him. “I said no. I don’t care what he’s done. He’ll be dealt with by the proper authorities.” Having a moral code could be a real bitch sometimes. Darwin was about to continue the argument but Kanatova broke in, and he fell silent, folding his arms across his chest. Irritation positively radiated from him. “I’m sure that Phlox has produced an anti-viral by now for the Andorian virus. He will need to adapt it for this strain, but it should be possible. I can send him the details of the strain so that he can start work, but Talerez’s blood is the only known source of antibodies that might even come close to being useful and she and Phlox are on Andoria.” “We need to get them here, right now,” said Darwin, turning to Archer. Archer looked crossly at Darwin. “Don’t you think I know that? It isn’t that simple. Andoria is ten days away at warp five. That’s a twenty day round trip. Enterprise would be ten days too late if it left this very second.” Sometimes he wondered if these ground pounding jar heads had any concept of the distances involved, as far as they were concerned a spaceship was just transport to the next war. “The Kumari could do it in less time,” said T’Pol. “Assuming that we can persuade Commander Shran to help us.” “Then I hope you don’t mind owing Shran a few favours,” replied Darwin. “Shran and I gave up keeping score some time ago,” replied Archer. “Have you told Shran that?” asked Darwin. “It can’t hurt to ask him. This is at least partially Andoria’s mess too. I’ll get Hoshi on it,” said Archer, ignoring the former MACO. One of the medical staff came over to Kanatova while they were talking and presented her with a padd. Everyone knew what it was. Kanatova looked over the padd quickly. “The results are in from Trip and Andros’ blood test. They both have the virus.” “Someone needs to tell Trip what’s going on,” said Reed. Kanatova looked at Darwin, and he looked at Archer. Archer sighed. “It’s my responsibility. I’ll tell him.” ****End of Chapter Thirteen**** When Archer reached the isolation rooms, he could see Trip lying on his bed and in the room next door, lay Andros, hooked up to monitors and her head swathed in bandages. Trip looked as if he was sleeping and Archer felt a bit bad about waking him, but he was sure that Trip would rather know what he had to tell him. Archer pressed the com button. “Trip? Are you awake?” Trip’s eyes opened almost immediately and Archer knew that he hadn’t really been asleep. He stretched, pushed a hand through his hair, got up and walked the couple of steps to the window. “I couldn’t sleep anyway,” said Trip. His voice sounded tinny from the com’s speaker and lacked its usual warm tones. “Tell me the bad news and get it over with.” “The virus was the real thing. Both you and Colonel Andros are infected.” “And?” “We’re working on it – that’s all I can tell you.” “You never were a very good liar, Captain, and you know more than you’re saying. How long have I got?” “It’s an experimental virus and we can’t be sure how this strain has mutated, it could be no worse than a bad cold, besides…” “Captain, please, just give it to me straight.” Trip’s blue eyes were almost pleading and they were looking directly at him, waiting for an answer. “Kanatova thinks maybe ten days.” Trip backed up and sat down on the edge of the bed. “Ten days? What about Phlox and the antiviral?” “He’s on Andoria, but Hoshi is calling Shran as we speak. The problem is that the anti-viral Phlox created is for the Andorian virus, and this is the original Klingon strain.” Archer was sure that his whole pose was telling Trip just how sorry he was that he wasn’t able to give him better news, but he still felt he needed to say more. “But Phlox should have a new anti-viral ready by the time he gets here.” Archer could see Trip thinking over what he’d just said. “It’s ten days from here to Andoria. They’re going to be cutting it awful tight.” “We’ll take you out to meet the Kumari in Enterprise.” “And risk transferring the virus to everyone on board? No way. I’m not putting one more person at risk for this damned Special Projects mission.” “We’ll put you in an environmental suit and transfer you to decon, it’ll be completely safe.” “You’d be breaking every containment protocol in the book. Once someone’s in isolation they’re supposed to stay there. All it takes is one small rip in the suit and it’s game over. This virus was supposed to kill Klingons, who knows what it could do to humans.” “Trip, this could be you best chance,” said Archer. He didn’t want to worry Trip but he had to persuade him to go. “Have you run this past Kanatova and T’Pol, because I know what they’d say about this.” “Look, I know that this isn’t exactly within the rules…” started Archer, but Trip cut him off. “I’m telling you that I don’t want you to do this, and you know how stubborn I can be.” “I could make this an order,” said Archer, playing his final ace. “I’m not backing down, so you might as well give up. Kanatova said I have ten days. Enterprise could do it in that time and the Kumari is faster than Enterprise.” Trip really didn’t look as if he was going to budge on this. “You’re right, I’m sure that they’ll get here in plenty of time.” Archer realised that Trip needed to hear this from him and he couldn’t bring himself to argue any further with his friend when he was stuck in quarantine. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” Trip didn’t look as if he entirely believed Archer’s platitude, and then he coughed. Archer immediately reached for the com button. “Archer to Kanatova, I need you at the isolation room.” “On my way,” replied Kanatova. Trip was rolling his eyes. “I just had a dry throat. Every little cough does not mean that I’m dying.” Archer gave him a stern look. “I’m not taking any chances and Kanatova wanted to know about any changes in your condition.” “You’ve just told me that you can’t do anything about “my condition” until Phlox gets here, so what is Anna going to do apart from look concerned? Besides, it’s only in really bad TV soap operas that every little cough means that someone has a terminal disease.” Archer smiled. Apparently Trip could still crack jokes even when his life was on the line. Trip coughed again and his smile disappeared, even more so when he noticed Trip wince a little. “What’s hurting?” “Pretty much everything,” said Trip. “Colonel Andros’ interrogation techniques were kind of basic.” “Beat you until you talk?” Trip gave him a small nod in confirmation. “I get the picture.” “Kanatova reckons nothing’s broken but I’ve got a few bad bruises and some nasty cuts. It’s nothing that won’t heal given a few days of down time, which I seem to have got whether I wanted it or not. I would have preferred a nice beach and some sun though. I’m spending a lot of time locked up in small rooms at the moment. Hey, what did you do with Gaht?” “He’s been put in quarters under a sort of house arrest, along with the rest of Andros’ MACOs until we can work out who to trust. I told him he could go anywhere he liked as long as he didn’t leave the base, and he was accompanied by a guard, which he seemed to think was reasonable. I need a bit of time to work out what we’re going to do with him. I don’t particularly want the Klingon government finding out about Andros’ plan to wipe them out, but we can’t keep Gaht here forever.” “I’m sure you’ll think of something. You usually do.” Archer caught Trip wincing again and knew immediately that he hadn’t exactly been telling the truth before. He watched as Trip poured himself a glass of water from a jug on the table and unconsciously rubbed at his temples. “Headache?” he asked. Trip’s head snapped up, caught in his omission. “Yeah, but it’s probably just dehydration. You know I’m not good in the heat.” Archer wasn’t hot and he didn’t think the isolation room was kept at a different temperature, but Trip’s skin was certainly beginning to look a little flushed. He didn’t hide his puzzlement in time and Trip picked up on it easily. “It’s not hot, is it? It’s just me.” “Maybe,” replied Archer, “we’ll see what Kanatova says.” “What Kanatova says about what?” asked the Russian Medic as she stepped up beside Archer. He hadn’t heard her approach, and he jumped slightly. “He thinks it’s started,” said Trip, coughing again, “and actually I’m beginning to agree with him.” Kanatova examined the medical readouts. “Your temperature is up. I think it’s time we put you on an IV, you’re going to need to keep your fluid levels up and it’ll make it easier to give you medication.” “Whatever you think is best, Doc,” said Trip with a rather defeated hand gesture, but a pointed look at Kanatova. “Have I ever let you down, Commander?” asked Kanatova and Archer realised that the tone of the exchange had changed. Trip normally called Kanatova either “Anna” or the more affectionate “Kana” but he had never heard him call her “Doc”. Now Kanatova was calling Trip by his rank. He wasn’t sure that he understood what was going on but it meant something to them. “Not yet,” said Trip. “I’ll be back once I’ve suited up,” said Kanatova. Archer gave Trip a quick goodbye wave and followed Kanatova. “That was a bit formal wasn’t it? Given what he’s facing I’d have thought you’d want to show him that he has a friend to lean on.” Archer’s tone was sharp, but he just couldn’t understand why Kanatova would start being so cold towards Trip when he needed her. Kanatova gave Archer a steely look. “On the contrary, Captain. He’s just told me that it’s time I stopped being his friend and went back to being his doctor. The next few days are going to be difficult and, yes, he will need his friends, but he’ll need his doctor even more if he’s going to survive this. Professional detachment will help me focus on keeping him alive.” Archer took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything. I’m just concerned.” Kanatova’s voice softened slightly. “I understand, I really do. He has this way of getting people to like him, even when they don’t want to. When he first turned up with Darwin, as a young Lieutenant on detachment with Special Projects, I never thought he’d last more than that one mission. We were all determined not to let him into our little group, but somehow he managed to work his way in. He is… irrepressible.” “That would be one way to describe him, I suppose,” said Archer. “He’s refusing to be moved to Enterprise. Can’t you persuade him?” “No, I agree with him. You would be violating all the principals of medical quarantine if you move him, and placing additional people in danger.” “He’s my friend. He’s saved my life more times than I care to count. I’ve got to at least try.” Kanatova’s eyes showed understanding. “I can’t tell you that he will survive this, I am not clairvoyant, but I can say that he will fight it with every ounce of his strength. You know this is true, I am sure.” Archer just nodded in agreement. Trip always was, and always would be, a fighter. “Now, you need to remain positive for him. I must suit up and insert an IV in my patient.” Kanatova hurried away and left Archer to think about what she’d just said and what his options were. **** Archer found Darwin in an empty lab talking on his communicator. He almost turned around to leave but then he heard the voice of the person that he was speaking with. “We’re leaving now,” said a gruff voice that was unmistakeably Shran. Hoshi had obviously managed to patch the call to Andoria through. “When will you be with us?” asked Darwin, looking significantly at Archer. Both of them were anxious to hear the answer. “It depends on how hard I can persuade my Chief Engineer to push the engines. I’ll try for six days but it may be more like seven,” replied Shran. “Just do your best Shran, that’s all we’re asking,” said Darwin. “I always do my best when a life is on the line. You can tell Archer from me that I’m opening the account again, and this will cost him.” “You just did. See you in six days. Darwin out.” Darwin snapped his communicator shut. “Shran told me to let you know that Phlox thinks that they have the Andorian virus under control. He wanted to talk to you but you were with Trip. I thought you’d rather finish your conversation with him.” Archer nodded. “He seemed happy enough to talk to you instead, and you’re right, I needed some time with Trip. He’s being stubborn and refusing to let me take him to the Kumari on Enterprise. He’s worried about putting the crew in danger.” “Do you want me to try talking to him?” Archer shook his head. “I’m not sure it will do any good. I don’t want to force him into going. We’ll just have to hope that six days is soon enough. He’s started to show symptoms.” “Already? That’s not good, is it?” “I don’t know, you’ll have to check with Kanatova, she’s in with Trip at the moment. She said something about placing an IV.” Darwin looked grim. “I’ll catch up with her later, and check in on Trip. It doesn’t surprise me that he won’t let you transfer him to Enterprise, he always had a very highly developed altruistic streak. I doubt I’ll be able to talk him out of it, but at least I can try. You should really get some rest, you look terrible.” “Thanks, you don’t look so great yourself,” replied Archer. Darwin’s hands were still bandaged and according to Kanatova’s muttered complaints, the Colonel was bad about taking pain medication, saying it dulled his reflexes. In return, she had complained that not taking it made him hell to live with. “I don’t have a diplomatic incident the size of Saturn sitting on my shoulders.” “Yes, well, diplomatic incidents seem to find me. I’m almost getting used to it. It’s Monday, the Earth must be in deadly peril again.” Archer’s attempt at humour fell slightly flat, and it was obvious neither of them was really in the mood for conversation. He hadn’t managed to get any sleep since they’d captured Vector and now he had a MACO base to run, as well as a brewing incident with the Coriolans, a Klingon under house arrest and an Andorian doctor who was sitting in the cells. Currently there were representatives from five different species on Coriolis and all of them, with the possible exception of their sole Vulcan, had problems that needed to be solved. It was days like this that he wanted to rewind the clock and reconsider becoming Captain of Enterprise. Darwin pulled out a small, silver hipflask from one of the many pockets in his jacket. He unscrewed the lid and took a swig, before passing it to Archer. “You look like you need it.” Archer accepted the flask with trepidation. “Again with the compliments. What is it? Whiskey? Bourbon? Brandy?” Darwin gave a snort of laughter. “Rum. A proper drink. I wouldn’t expect a Starfleet poster boy like you to understand.” Archer raised the flask a little in the traditional salute and took a drink. He found it surprisingly pleasant. It wasn’t as harsh as he’d expected and had a slight aftertaste of burnt sugar. He fingered the flask and noticed that it had a big dent in it on one side. He handed it back to Darwin. “How did that happen?” Darwin looked at the dent in the flask, obviously remembering. “A Nausicaan with a knife nearly turned me into Swiss cheese. The knife went through my tac vest, god knows what it was made of, and that was the only thing that stopped it. It deflected the blade.” “Lucky,” said Archer. “Yeah.” Darwin paused. “Daria gave it to me for our first anniversary. Actually, things were starting to go wrong between us even then.” Archer didn’t know how to respond to that, so he didn’t. “I just don’t understand how she could go from being the amazing, dynamic woman that I married, to someone intent on mass murder.” Darwin leant against the edge of one of the lab benches, staring at a spot on the floor and took another drink. He handed the flask back to Archer. “I don’t have any answers for you. I’ve certainly never had much luck with my own relationships and apparently I’m not a great judge of character either.” Archer took a second drink from the flask and handed it back to its owner. “Something must have happened to make her the way that she is.” Darwin nodded and took a long drink. “She was captured by some Klingons. Tortured. She only just escaped with her life.” Archer couldn’t believe how casually Darwin had just imparted this information. “And you’re just telling me this now? That was the incident with the Klingons that you mentioned earlier? Don’t you think it would have helped to know before now that the Commander of this base had something against Klingons?” Archer had been allowing himself to feel sorry for Darwin but now he was angry at him. This information could have helped him to understand what was going on. Darwin screwed the top on his flask and stuffed it back into his jacket. “I didn’t think it was relevant to a plague on Andoria. How was I supposed to know that it was Daria that created the virus? Or that she was personally overseeing this base? Even telling you this much, I could get into some serious trouble. She’s the Head of MACO Intelligence.” “Not for much longer,” said Archer. “You don’t get as far as she has without friends in the right places.” “She doesn’t have any friends here.” “Am I the only person who actually cares whether she lives or dies?” “No, I hope she pulls through. I want her to stand trial for what she’s done.” “You really don’t get it, do you? No one is going to stand trial for this. Someone high up in government approved this op. It’s going to be buried by Earth just like it’s going to be buried back on Andoria. This is Special Projects, it’s what they do. The most Daria will get is a slap on the wrist and an honourable discharge – assuming she survives this.” “We’ll see. I’m getting damn tired of being told that Special Projects is untouchable.” “Would you really have been happy to see Trip court-martialled after our run-in with the Hunters?” “I am not going over this again. He’s a big boy and he knew what he was doing. Now, I’m tired, and I’ve got a lot of work to do before I can hit the rack.” Archer started towards the exit of the room but stopped a moment. “You should go and see her. Even Andros should have someone there for her.” Darwin just nodded, but he certainly didn’t look happy. **** Trip had fallen asleep after Kanatova had put in the IV. Once he was actually lying on the bed, he had realised how tired he was and Kanatova’s painkillers had gone some way to helping him into a restful sleep. He awoke with a jolt to see T’Pol staring at him through the glass. “How long have you been there?” “I was trying to determine whether to wake you.” Trip pushed himself up on one arm and attempted to straighten his hair. Living is goldfish bowl definitely had its disadvantages. He yawned and realised that he still didn’t feel great, but he wasn’t any worse. “What time is it?” “Five thirty four am, local time.” He’d slept into tomorrow, but despite it being very early morning, he didn’t feel like going back to sleep. “What’s up?” “I wanted to check that you have everything you need,” said T’Pol, glancing down and left. Trip sat up and scooted forward to the edge of the bed. He smiled at her. He recognised how T’Pol looked when she wasn’t exactly telling the truth and he was willing to bet that she’d just come by to see how he was doing. “I’m okay,” said Trip. “Captain Archer informed me that you refused his offer to transport you to the Kumari on board Enterprise.” “Yeah, I don’t want to risk it.” T’Pol didn’t look exactly happy about this. It always amazed Trip how much emotion T'Pol actually gave away if you looked carefully enough. “I thought you’d agree.” “I do.” “Then what are you looking so unhappy about?” “I would have preferred that the Starfleet protocols surrounding disease control allowed for your transfer to Enterprise. It would have given you a better chance for survival.” “You don’t pull your punches, do you, T’Pol?” “I am unsure what that means.” Trip just gave up and shook his head. “Any news from the outside world?” “The Kumari is on its way. Shran estimates that it will take them between six and seven days to reach Coriolis.” Trip jumped off the bed, forgetting the IV line for a second before it pulled on his arm. “I knew they weren’t that much faster than us. That means Kumari has a top speed of warp six.” “That would indicate that they are almost twice as fast as Enterprise,” pointed out T’Pol. “The warp scale is cubic.” “I’ve just spent the last few weeks teaching a bunch of Coriolans about warp physics. I do know that, T’Pol.” “Of course, my apologies, Commander.” T’Pol seemed a little lost for words and they stood looking at each other awkwardly for a few moments. “Any idea how the Captain is going to sort this mess out?” “He has a meeting with Premier Dvortshangharichantor tomorrow to discuss the human presence on this planet. I believe this is the first step in his plan to retrieve this situation. As long as this base is still here then there is the possibility that it could be detected by the Klingons.” “I bet you didn’t even have to practice pronouncing that name, did you?” “Vulcan family names are considerably more complicated.” “I thought Vulcans just had the one name,” said Trip, leaning back against the bed. “That is not the case. We simply choose not to give out our family names as we know that you would be unable to pronounce them.” “Is that a fact? I can pronounce Tjearigeshearithen Dvortshangharichantor just fine.” He wasn’t going to tell her that he had been practicing that for some time. “Then why has he told us that you call him Jerry?” asked T’Pol. “It’s just rather long, that’s all. And a bit of a mouthful when all you want is him to hand you a wrench. Does this mean that you’ve spoken to Jerry? Is he doing okay?” “He is disappointed that we will not allow him to continue work on the engine, but otherwise he is well and his injuries are healing,” replied T’Pol. “You won’t let him work on the engine?” “Captain Archer thought it best until we decide what the optimal course of action is here.” “That’s kind of shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted, T’Pol. They can’t unlearn what I taught them about warp engines.” “If they launch their ship with the new warp engine installed it will likely attract the attention of the Klingons. That is something that I am sure we would all like to avoid. I still fail to see why you agreed to help Colonel Andros to provide these aliens with the knowledge to build a warp engine.” T’Pol’s final comment made Trip see red. He stepped up to the glass, pulling the IV stand behind him. “First of all, they were already working on building a warp engine, they just hadn’t got past the theory stage and actually they’d got a few things wrong in that department, but it wouldn’t have taken them long to get past those. Second, she was threatening my friends and I couldn’t just let her kill you and the Captain. I had no idea that she was planning to use it to kill the entire Klingon race.” “So you did this because you were worried about my safety?” asked T’Pol. “Yeah, yours and the Captain’s.” For just a split second he thought that T’Pol looked a little pleased by this, but the look was fleeting and passed across her face in fractions of a second. “She sent Major Sandrikov to kill you.” “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few,” said T’Pol. “What the hell does that mean? That I’m not supposed to protect my friends?” Why was it that T’Pol always had to go and spoil things by bringing logic into it? “It is one of Surak’s most famous sayings,” said T’Pol. “Yeah, well maybe he wasn’t as smart as you Vulcans seem to think.” Kanatova appeared at the window beside T’Pol. “Commander T’Pol, I think you should let Commander Tucker get some rest, his blood pressure just went through the roof. This is not ideal in his current condition.” Trip and T’Pol’s eyes met for a moment, both looking a little guilty. “I’m fine, Doc,” said Trip, sitting down on the only chair in the room. “I’ll just sit down, take some deep breaths and I’ll be back to normal in no time.” “You’ll go back to bed,” said Kanatova. “It’s the middle of the night and you need the rest. I know that Vulcans don’t need as much sleep but that doesn’t mean you have to wake up my patient.” “She didn’t wake me. I woke myself up.” “My apologies, Captain Kanatova, I will stop disturbing the Commander,” said T’Pol, who turned back to Trip. “I will return at a more reasonable hour.” With that she stalked off, Trip’s rather disappointed eyes following her. “I was actually enjoying that argument,” said Trip, a little crossly. Kanatova’s face broke into a smile. “I should have known. You never could resist.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “You like her.” “Of course I like her, she’s my friend.” “Hmm, I wonder if I should add delusional to your list of symptoms, or is there something that you’re not telling me?” Trip’s cheeks turned pink as he remembered his one physical encounter with T’Pol. And all their neuropressure sessions that he’d wished, every single time, could have turned into more. “I thought so,” said Kanatova. “Now, go back to bed and stay there. More rest will help your immune system.” Trip sighed, did a little grumbling about fascist Russian doctors but got back into bed like he’d been told. At least he now had a small, emotional warm glow, knowing that T’Pol was just a little bit concerned about him. After all, paying him a visit for no real reason was slightly illogical. She had to like him, right? He began to feel a bit sleepy again now that he was back in bed and just had time to wonder if any of Kanatova’s medicine had drowsiness as a side effect before he fell asleep. **** Over the next two days, Trip started to feel really sick, until on the morning of his third day in isolation, he couldn’t even get out of bed. His limbs were aching and his joints were on fire. Kanatova was doing her best to control the pain with various drugs but he still wasn’t comfortable. What was possibly even worse was that he seemed to have a permanently broken internal thermostat, one moment he was burning up and then the next he was shivering because he was too cold. He had a nagging cough that was getting more and more annoying, and he was tired to the bone almost all the time. T’Pol had come by and dropped off some padds with the most recent Engineering status reports on them, but all he was really able to do was curl up on his bed and feel sorry for himself. It was hard not to begin to think of himself like some sort of zoo exhibit, with the large glass window allowing anyone who walked past to see him. He understood why it was necessary, they needed to keep an eye on him for medical reasons, but it didn’t leave him much in the way of privacy. He was wondering about asking if they could put in a curtain or something. Not least because he hated the fact that his friends had to watch him getting ill. He heard the hiss of the airlock and realised that Kanatova was coming to check on him. She didn’t normally suit up for routine check ups, she just looked at the biomonitors, so he was pretty certain that something new was wrong, but even a plastic person was more human contact that he normally had at the moment, so he smiled at her as she entered the room. His attempt at a greeting was spoiled by a coughing fit. “Hi,” said Kanatova. “I’ve just got a couple of checks to do.” She helped Trip get into a slightly more comfortable sitting position and raised the head of the bed a little. “That you couldn’t do from the biomonitors? Sounds like a cover story to me, Doc.” “I’d forgotten how sharp you are. You’re right, there were some readings that I didn’t like. I want to take some blood and see you for myself, especially your eyes.” Kanatova brought out a pen light a bit like the one that Trip often used for fine engineering work and sat on the edge of the bed. Trip knew what was coming next and Kanatova didn’t fail him as she shone the light straight into his eyes. Twice. He couldn’t help but wince at the brightness. Then she unexpectedly pulled up his eyelid and checked the eyeball. Kanatova frowned. “What’s the matter?” asked Trip. “Don’t you like blue eyes?” “I do like blue eyes, but the problem is yours aren’t the colour they’re supposed to be.” “What colour are they?” He was a little alarmed by this revelation. “The whites of your eyes are a little yellow. It’s called jaundice.” That really didn’t sound good. People weren’t supposed to be yellow. “If I remember my biology classes correctly people turn yellow when their liver isn’t working right. Is that it?” Kanatova nodded and took out a hypospray to collect some of Trip’s blood. She carefully located a vein and took the sample, as he restrained another coughing fit. “I think so, but the blood test will confirm it. ” “What does that mean for me?” “I can give you drugs to counteract some of the problems, but if that doesn’t improve your condition then we’ll start you on liver dialysis. To put it very simply, the liver normally cleans the blood and if it isn’t doing its job then impurities could build up in your system.” Trip just let out a long breath. “So how bad is this? Really? Am I going to be able to hold out long enough for Phlox to get here?” “The liver is one of the few internal organs that’s capable of regeneration on its own. We should be able to support liver function almost indefinitely and certainly until you’re well enough for it to regenerate on its own. You know that I won’t lie to you, this is a serious development, but one that I’m sure we can combat.” Trip sighed in relief and then remembered that he had another question for his doctor. “How’s Andros doing? No one seems to want to tell me anything.” “The head injury is complicating things,” said Kanatova. “However she has the advantage that the virus wasn’t introduced directly into her bloodstream. She only became symptomatic yesterday afternoon and it seems to be progressing more slowly.” “Huh, doesn’t seem fair. I’m the one that disarmed a bomb and saved hundreds of people, you’d think I’d catch a break once in a while.” Then he noticed two Coriolans standing at the window. They waved at him. “Hey, Jerry and Amy!” Trip smiled at his two visitors. He noted that Jerry’s hands had evidence of scar tissue, but his general colour and bearing showed that he was definitely better than when Trip had last seen him a couple of weeks ago. “Ah yes, that was the other news that I had. Eimiramitafen has been helping us in the labs.” “Hello, Trip,” said Jerry enthusiastically, his voice a little distorted from passing through the com channel. “We were very sorry to hear that you are ill. Amy has been doing her best to help with your treatment.” Amy smiled. “Hello, Commander Tucker.” “What exactly have the Coriolans been told about all this?” whispered Trip. “You’ll have to check with Captain Archer for that information,” said Kanatova, getting off the bed. Trip decided not to volunteer any information, but he didn’t see any reason not to be friendly. “How are you two doing?” “We are doing well. They will not let me work on the engine however.” “Yeah, I heard, sorry about that. I’ll see if I can sort something out with Captain Archer.” “Maybe it is best if we do not continue the project,” said Jerry, rather sadly. “It has been made clear to us that the Klingons will regard us as a threat if the ship is launched, and we are not ready for war.” “I’m really sorry for everything, Jerry. I never wanted this to happen,” said Trip. “Of all the humans that I have met, you are the only one that I would call “friend”,” replied Jerry. “This situation was not your fault.” “Maybe not, but I didn’t help it any,” said Trip. “You have more than repaid any debt to Coriolis by your actions,” said Jerry. Trip was about to point out that he’d only done what anyone would have in the same circumstances, when a single drop of blood landed on the white sheet. Trip looked at the droplet for a few seconds, wondering where it had come from. “Am I bleeding?” A second droplet followed the first and a third and fourth. Kanatova had been about to leave but she turned back to her patient. “It’s a nosebleed.” She grabbed a bandage from her kit and pressed it to Trip’s nose, mainly to catch the blood. “Hold the bridge of your nose,” said the Doctor, positioning Trip’s fingers and tipping his head back slightly. “I’ve never had a nose bleed in my entire life, Doc,” said Trip, “unless you count that time Dempsey broke my nose by mistake during training.” “It’s the virus, weakening your blood vessels.” “We should go,” said Amy. Jerry almost had his nose pressed to the glass window and he looked very disturbed by Trip’s sudden nosebleed. He agreed with his wife, however. “Yes, we will come back another time.” Trip couldn’t do anything but give them a rather forlorn wave with the hand that wasn’t currently holding his nose. He coughed, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. “I think it’s stopping,” Trip said nasally. “I’ll add some extra medication to your IV to help your blood clot, and I’ll make sure that we keep an eye on your platelet count.” Kanatova typed a new instruction on the biomonitor above Trip’s head that also contained all the details of his medication. She wiped the dry blood from Trip’s face and stripped away the top sheet, replacing it with one from a nearby cupboard that Trip hadn’t even noticed. She tucked it around him like he was a child at bedtime. “I guess I’m not going to bleed to death from a nosebleed.” Trip tried to make light of it but he couldn’t help but be worried by this further evidence of the progression of the virus. He wasn’t quite sure how he was supposed to fight this thing. Kanatova took a long look at him and seemed to sense his anxiety, or perhaps he wasn’t hiding it as well as he thought. “I anticipated that this might happen, Commander,” said Kanatova. “This doesn’t mean that you’re any worse than we expected at this stage.” Trip sighed. “I know you’re doing everything you can, and I’m not giving up, it’s just hard to stay positive.” Kanatova nodded in understanding. “We are going to beat this virus, Trip.” “What happened to “Commander”?” “You looked like you needed a friend, not a doctor,” replied Kanatova. Trip gave her a lop-sided smile and rested his head back on the pillows. “I can’t fool you for a minute, can I?” “No, and you should remember that next time you tell me that you’re fine. I know what “fine” means in your vocabulary. It’s usually somewhere between “dead” and “at least one broken bone”. Now, I need to get this blood sample to the lab. Please, try to get some sleep.” “As if I have a choice,” said Trip. He was once again finding that he was incredibly tired and another nap was definitely required. He was blinking heavily and Kanatova had certainly noticed. The engineering status reports would have to wait, again. Captain Archer appeared at the window and clicked open the intercom. Kanatova spoke before he could open his mouth. “Captain, Commander Tucker is very tired. I think you should come back later.” “I’m sorry, this can’t wait,” said Archer. “Trip, I’ve got some bad news. The Kumari was attacked by the Klingons. They fought them off but warp drive is down.” ****End of Chapter Fourteen**** The Enterprise officers gathered in an empty lab down the corridor from the isolation room. They had been joined by Darwin and Kanatova would also be coming after she had finished with Trip. They all looked to Archer, waiting for him to start. “I asked you all to come here because we need to discuss our next move. I want to overrule Trip and take him out to meet Kumari on Enterprise.” Reed felt a little uncomfortable at the suggestion that they would ignore Trip’s wishes and shifted his stance. He considered the Engineer to be a friend and as far as he was concerned what Trip wanted was very important. Obviously Archer had the right to veto Trip’s decision, as the Captain of Enterprise he could order Trip to go, but most Captains would respect the choices of their crew when it came to personal medical matters. This was most probably why Archer had called them together, because he was about to do something that went against not only Starfleet’s protocols but his friend’s wishes. It was a stark choice, to go against the rules and Trip’s own expressed choice, or to face losing the Engineer to a deadly virus when the cure was only a few days away. Reed didn’t like it one bit and it seemed that he wasn’t the only one who disliked the situation that they now found themselves in. “There has to be something that we haven’t tried. Something else that we can do?” Darwin just looked rather angry that this was the current circumstances. “Viruses require an anti-viral specific to each strain in order to combat them. Without the anti-viral it is impossible to destroy the virus,” said T’Pol. “Shirek has to know how to cure the virus that he created,” said Darwin. “You have to let me at least interrogate him.” “We tried,” Reed pointed out. “He refused to say anything without another Andorian present, and no prisoner under my care is going to be treated anything other than properly.” This was exactly the reason that he still disliked the ex-MACO Colonel. Darwin couldn’t be trusted not to revert back to his black ops ways at the drop of a hat. T’Pol was about to speak when the door opened. Kanatova entered the room, removing her environmental suit gloves and shaking out her dishevelled hair. “His platelet count is down again. When does the Kumari get here?” “The latest report is another five days,” said Archer. Kanatova shook her head. “He’s not going to last that long. This virus is very aggressive and my original estimate of ten days is looking far too optimistic.” “Then we have no choice but to take him to the Kumari. T’Pol, assuming that the Kumari is travelling at warp six, like Trip suggested and we push Enterprise to the absolute limit, how long would it take to meet the Kumari?” T’Pol didn’t take long to consider the problem, it only required some simple maths and Reed was sure T’Pol could do it easily in her head. “Approximately forty four hours, however you may remember that there were several reasons why we dismissed this course of action, not only Commander Tucker’s objections to it. Starfleet disease containment protocol forbids it. We risk infecting the crew with a deadly virus and we have still not resolved the issues here with the Coriolans and Klingons.” “When we thought that we had ten days we could afford the luxury of sitting here,” said Archer. “I’m prepared to ignore the protocol and accept some risk if it means we can save Trip’s life.” “We have no way to get Commander Tucker from isolation to decon without breaching containment protocols. The risk is unacceptable and I do not believe Commander Tucker would want us to do this.” T’Pol’s eye’s flashed for a moment with suppressed anger. Reed was well aware that she valued her friendship with Commander Tucker very highly. “Trip thought that he had ten days and that the Kumari would arrive in time. Things have changed. I’m pretty sure that he’d rather be alive than dead,” said Archer, animatedly. “But not at any cost,” said T’Pol. “He contracted this virus by protecting people on this base. I doubt that he would now want to put them in danger. He specifically told you to observe Starfleet protocols in this matter.” “She does have a point, Archer,” said Darwin. “What the hell would you know? You breeze back into his life and turn it upside down. You’ve only been here five minutes and you’re at least partly responsible for this.” “That isn’t fair, Captain, and you know it,” said Darwin, stiffening. It was a measure of how worried he was about Trip, that he didn’t pursue the argument or even raise his voice. Archer hung his head, as if he was ashamed or perhaps defeated, Reed wasn’t sure which. “You’re right. I apologise.” Reed almost wondered if Darwin was going to die of a heart attack when his Captain actually apologised, but he just nodded his head in acknowledgement. Everyone was on edge and it was understandable that Archer was irritable. The group was quiet for a few moments as they all considered the issues. “We could use the transporter,” said Reed, suddenly. “With the right modifications we could probably beam him directly into Decon. Assuming that we can get him outside the base safely, there’s too much shielding in here, but we could use a pressure litter for that, like we used to get Andros from her office into isolation.” Kanatova shook her head. “I have no idea what effect the transporter would have on such a critical patient. Using the transporter at all in this condition might be fatal.” “If he stays here then his condition is definitely going to be fatal. This could be his only chance,” said Archer. Kanatova looked very apprehensive, and shrugged uncomfortably. “Desperate diseases require desperate treatment, and I’m out of other options. His body is already shutting down, and if he doesn’t get the antiviral soon, there’ll be no point in giving it to him. The virus will have done too much damage.” Everyone looked rather taken aback by this dour pronouncement from Kanatova, but it just seemed to strengthen Archer’s resolve. He had definitely made his decision, if Reed was any judge. “T’Pol, I want you and Hess to be ready to transport Trip to Decon. Malcolm, get as many non-essential personnel as you can off Enterprise and down here. Captain Kanatova, I need you to get Trip ready to be moved. I want Enterprise to break orbit as soon as possible.” “What are you going to tell Commander Tucker?” asked Reed, knowing that talking to Trip was going to be by far the hardest task. “That for once in his life he’s going to obey my orders,” replied Archer. “Are you going to take Colonel Andros too?” asked Kanatova. “I’d love to leave her behind, but I don’t think we have enough time to guarantee that we can get back here to give her the antiviral too.” Archer gave a small shrug. Kanatova thought for a second and then frowned. “Actually, I’d still advise against it on medical grounds. She shouldn’t be moved at all. We’d need to get her outside the base to use the transporter and even that could be enough to seriously complicate her condition. The virus is progressing much more slowly in her because it wasn’t introduced directly into the blood stream. She’s about three days behind Trip and seems to be experiencing less severe symptoms. As long as the Kumari doesn’t hang around after your rendezvous, it should be in time.” “Okay, you’re the doctor. If you don’t think she should be moved then it’s your call.” “What about me?” asked Darwin. “You’re staying here and you’re going to sort out this mess. We are disbanding this base as soon as possible. The longer it’s here, the more chance there is that the Klingons are going to find it. You told me that you were a demolitions expert before you joined Special Projects. We need to destroy this base without taking half of Coriolis with it. Do you think you can manage that? We’ll transfer all the personnel to Enterprise and Vector once we’re back.” Darwin nodded. “That sounds like my sort of assignment. So long as you promise to take good care of my Chief Engineer while you’re away.” “The best,” promised Archer. “And he’s my Chief Engineer.” **** Shran stepped into Kumari’s busy sickbay. He looked around at the beds which were all occupied with the members of his crew that had sustained injuries in their recent fire fight with the Klingons. Kumari was easily a match for any Klingon Bird of Prey, but this Klingon had been tenacious and seemed to have something to prove. He’d known how to target Kumari’s engines which had led Shran to believe he had faced other Andorian cruisers before. Luckily for him, Shran’s Armoury Officer was one of the best in the Imperial Guard and she had targeted the Klingon’s weapons, taking them out with practised precision. She just hadn’t been quick enough to avoid some damage to the warp engine, which, given the urgency of their current mission, was very unfortunate. He’d hoped to avoid contact with the Klingons. This close to the border it was almost inevitable especially as the Andorians and Klingons weren’t on good terms at the moment. The Bird of Prey had most likely appeared just to make it clear that Klingon space was close, but the commander of the Klingon ship was a hot head and hadn’t taken kindly to Shran’s suggestion that it leave before it was blown out of the sky. Both ships had been in neutral territory and they had an equal right to be there, even if Qo’nos was closer than Andoria. Shran actually found that he was angry with himself for handling the situation badly, if he’d been more diplomatic then he probably could have continued on his way without any trouble. He pushed all thoughts of the fight from his mind and looked for Enterprise’s Denobulan doctor. He found him helping out with some of the injured, which was slightly unexpected as the doctor was supposed to be working on the anti-viral that would save Commander Tucker’s life. Phlox was intently bandaging a nasty gash in the leg of a junior engineer. The wound still seemed to be oozing blue blood despite the gauze and salves being applied. “Phlox, you can’t just wander around the ship as you please,” said Shran as he approached the doctor. “I thought that my skills would be needed here and it seems that I was right,” replied Phlox in the annoying singsong fashion that he had. It was doubly annoying because he was also correct in his summation. Sickbay had been overrun with casualties, admittedly most of them were minor, but Phlox had definitely helped them out. Shran felt like he needed to be angry at someone for something however and Phlox had left the lab space assigned to him without his designated escort. “My engineering department is doing its best to get us underway again in as little time as possible, so that we can get you and Lieutenant Talerez’s antibodies to Commander Tucker before he’s killed by a deadly virus. I would have thought that you’d be working on curing him, not sticking bandages on cuts.” “An hour spent helping your doctor to deal with casualties from your recent disagreement with a Klingon warship is not going to harm my work. I have a number of tests running and nothing else that I can do until they are finished. When you are a qualified virologist, then you may criticise how I spend my time but until then I would prefer that you turn your attentions back to getting your spaceship repaired so that I can actually reach my patient.” Phlox hadn’t raised his voice during the entire conversation, but Shran certainly felt like he’d just had a tongue lashing. He set his mouth in a hard line, determined not to let the doctor see that he had rattled him. “Fine, do what you want. I’ve got more important things to worry about. I came here to tell you that we expect to have the warp engine repaired in another five hours. Enterprise is coming out to meet us, so that should knock a few hours off our estimated rendezvous time, and Captain Kanatova has been in touch with the latest bio readings for Commander Tucker.” Shran handed Phlox the Andorian equivalent of a padd. Phlox broke off from his bandaging to look over the readings. It produced a frown. “He became symptomatic earlier than expected and the imminent liver failure is a worrying development,” muttered Phlox. He typed out a couple of lines of instructions on the padd and passed it back to Shran. “Please could you send that back to Doctor Kanatova with my compliments. It’s some suggested additional treatment for the Commander. I’m sure she’s already begun the usual array of treatments for his symptoms.” He noticed that whereas he recognised Kanatova’s military rank first, Phlox saw her primarily as a doctor. It shouldn’t have surprised him, he supposed. Phlox was basically a civilian and probably didn’t understand that Captain was the correct form of address. “I’ll make sure it gets sent as a priority,” said Shran, already turning away. He was stopped by Phlox calling out to him. “Commander, don’t forget to get some rest at some point. Hypothermia is an especially serious condition in Andorians, even if you took longer to reach that state than your human companions did. Doctor Kanatova passed me a copy of your readings after you were found in the Kasspin. I know that you hid from the others how serious your condition was, not to mention the two broken ribs that you sustained in the crash.” Shran’s head snapped back towards the Denobulan, surprised by the concern that he heard in Phlox’s voice. The ribs were nearly healed but still gave him some pain. “That was a couple of weeks ago, Doctor.” “Yes, and in my experience hypothermia in Andorians can take several weeks to fully recover from. The fatigue alone can be crippling. I’m surprised that you agreed to take me to Coriolis and didn’t suggest another ship take the Kumari’s place.” “Archer and I seem to be trading favours. It was my turn to answer his call for help. He helped me infiltrate a Vela Kari base and rescue someone who was very important to my brother. And I don’t trust anyone else to do this.” Phlox nodded. “I realise that no one ever takes my advice, but I hope you’ll pay attention this time.” “As soon as we’re underway again, I will most certainly be following your advice, Doctor.” Shran left it at that and exited sickbay, just as the latest addition to his crew, Lieutenant Marev, was entering. Shran had not been happy at her placement on his ship. She was the price he had to pay for being allowed to take Kumari to Coriolis. She was there to bring back Doctor Shirek to stand trial for his part in the virus outbreak. It looked as if he was being designated as the scapegoat. However Lieutenant Marev would be remaining on his ship after this mission was concluded as, what was euphemistically termed, “Political Officer” but actually translated to “spy”. She wouldn’t just be spying on other alien races, he was sure of that, she was here to keep an eye on him too. Perhaps he had been taking the humans’ side in things too much lately, but it was only because he happened to agree with them. “Lieutenant,” he growled. “Have you been injured?” “Just a small cut, Commander,” replied Marev, removing her hand from where it was covering a dark blue, shallow but long cut on her arm. Her uniform showed a corresponding rip. “I fell against the bulkhead in the first attack.” Shran would have bet a month’s pay that she was lying about how she had gained the injury, but at the moment he just didn’t care. He briefly considered that she might want an excuse to visit sickbay, but he was tired and still had a ship to get back up to warp, so he left it. He merely grunted a reply and left her to her scheming. Marev meanwhile made her way towards Doctor Phlox who had just finished with his current patient. She pushed in front of the next Andorian who was waiting, casting them a look that told them in no uncertain terms that they should get lost. She sat down on the biobed. “What can I do for you, Lieutenant?” asked Phlox. Marev held out her arm for the doctor to inspect. “I’m sure your immense skills are wasted here.” “Nonsense,” replied Phlox. “This actually makes a welcome change from my research.” He disinfected the wound with the appropriate antiseptic, cleaning it thoroughly, and then began the process of dressing it. “Speaking of your research,” said Marev. “I’m sure that you’ve heard that Doctor Shirek is in custody on Coriolis.” “Yes, he is the kind of doctor that gives science a bad name.” “Yes, his use of the virus was most unfortunate. I was asked to talk with you by my superiors to see if you would be interested in switching your allegiances from the humans to the Andorians. As you can see we have a vacancy for a world class virologist.” Phlox didn’t say anything as he finished up bandaging the cut, and she began to wonder if he had heard her. Then, when his task was complete, he spoke. “I don’t think you’ve picked the right person to ask, Lieutenant, or checked my background very well. Firstly, I am a member of the Interspecies Medical Exchange program, which means that my allegiance is not to the humans but to the medical profession. Secondly, I don’t manufacture viruses. I cure them.” “We could offer you some very interesting incentives.” “Yes, I’m sure that you could, but the answer would still be no. Now, come back tomorrow and we’ll change the dressing. If you notice any darker blue around the wound, come back immediately, it could indicate an infection. Next patient, please.” Marev hopped down from the bed. She hadn’t truly expected Phlox to take her up on the offer, but her orders had been to ask him discreetly and they had been carried out. It was time she returned to making her plans to deal with Doctor Shirek. She strode out of sickbay. **** Trip and Archer had argued, rather inevitably, about his transfer to Enterprise. Archer had tried to persuade him that it really was safe for everyone concerned and that he didn’t need to be worried about the virus getting out, but Trip was as stubborn as mule when he thought that he was in the right. He’d folded his arms across his chest and told Archer that he would be moving him to Enterprise over his cold, dead body. It was an unfortunate choice of words and Archer found himself telling Trip that cold and dead might be the only way he’d ever see Enterprise again, unless he did as he was told. Then Archer had really blown it and said that it didn’t matter anyway, as he was giving him a direct order. He was going to be moved to Enterprise and that was that. Trip had scowled impressively. “Fine, I guess my opinion doesn’t matter,” he’d said angrily. “It makes me wonder if it ever has, or if you just used to ask to make it seem like you were taking advice.” “If this wasn’t a life or death situation then you know I’d wait,” Archer had replied. “It’s my life on the line!” Trip all but shouted. “And when is it not a life and death decision? You’d think that would give me a say in what happens.” “Trip, could you, just for once, stop trying to atone for your past sins and let me save your life?” “What makes you think I’m doing this to atone for what I’ve done? I’m the one that’s sticking to the rules for once.” “Trip, for as long as I’ve known you, you’ve had a problem with taking care of yourself. When you and Malcolm were stuck in Shuttlepod One, you were going to sacrifice your life to save him.” Trip had looked rather surprised at this comment, obviously not aware that Archer knew. “Yes, I know about that. Malcolm thought I should be aware of it. You got knifed when you ran in to save Hoshi’s life, and a Hunter nearly broke your skull because you were protecting the MACOs. I can list more, do you want me to go on?” “Why does everyone suddenly have a problem with me protecting my friends?” “Probably because your friends actually care about what happens to you,” Archer had replied. Trip had looked rather guilty and then he’d spoken softly. “You, of all people, know what I’ve done in my life. I’ve got a lot to make up for and I promised myself that no one else would ever die because of me. You’re asking me to put people in danger, people that I care about. The Coriolans are good people, Captain, and they sure as hell didn’t deserve to get caught in the middle of this.” “I know, but you didn’t deserve this either. You were blackmailed into being here. None of this is your fault.” “You don’t understand. I don’t give a damn that this mess wasn’t my fault. I didn’t stop it. I’m responsible.” Archer hadn’t really known what to say to that, so he’d told Trip that the argument was over and had left to arrange things for Trip’s transfer. It was the coward’s way out and Archer knew it. He still considered his friendship with Trip to be on rocky ground after their previous encounters with Special Projects, and this could well kill it, but he had to at least try to save him. Archer was proud of his crew. Reed had managed to persuade some of the more junior non-essential personnel to leave, but the majority of the crew had remained, whether they were really needed or not. Apparently Trip had a lot of friends on board and was well respected by everyone. T’Pol, Hess, and her engineers, had worked like Trojans to make the modifications to the transporter on time and when the moment came, the transport went as smoothly as could be expected. Kanatova was waiting ready to receive her patient in decon and reported that Trip hadn’t reacted too badly to the transport, although there had been some indications of increased heart rate that she hadn’t liked. It was a reminder that this technology was still in its infancy and transports weren’t entirely stress free for the person being transported. However one side benefit was that they now actually had some data for how critically ill patients reacted to being transported, although it certainly wasn’t how any of them would have chosen to get such data. They broke orbit the moment that Trip was safely aboard, not wanting to waste any time. All indications were that they had been successful in keeping the virus contained during the transfer, as they had expected. In fact very little had changed, Archer simply found himself looking through a different observation window at his increasingly ill Chief Engineer. Over the last few hours, Archer had watched Trip develop a distinctly yellow tinge to his skin. It had started with his face, moved down his neck to his upper body and arms, then down his legs until eventually even his toes looked as if he had decided to put on a particularly cheap brand of fake tan. It made him look decidedly sickly, but then that was what he was. Kanatova’s drugs, and Phlox’s new suggested treatment, had slowed the deterioration, but the virus was destroying Trip’s liver faster than they could combat it. There had been an accompanying loss of mental acuity which meant Trip had trouble reading or doing anything complicated, but as he seemed to sleep most of the time that wasn’t as much of a problem as it could have been. He also seemed to have forgotten just how angry he had been with Archer for bringing him on board Enterprise, but Archer wasn’t sure if that was the disease or just Trip’s naturally forgiving personality. Reluctantly Kanatova had started liver dialysis, reluctantly because it meant that Trip’s liver was all but dead, but also because one of the side effects was to reduce his platelet count further, something he didn’t need with his clotting abilities already reduced. Archer hadn’t really understood, but apparently platelets stuck together to form clots and less platelets meant less clotting. His skin was showing dark red patches of broken capillaries where small haemorrhages had begun, and Kanatova told him that the same thing was happening internally. If they couldn’t stop the liver damage soon then it would be irreversible and Trip would be on dialysis until an artificial organ could be transplanted. That would mean a journey back to Earth and artificial livers still weren’t as good as the real thing. If Trip wasn’t completely fit then he doubted Starfleet would be happy with him serving as Chief Engineer of Enterprise. That was assuming he survived, because with the Kumari delayed by the Klingons and Trip’s condition deteriorating fast, that was looking less and less likely. The virus was aggressively shutting down Trip’s body and it was all happening very quickly as he got weaker and weaker. Trip stirred and his eyes peeled open sluggishly. He glanced around the room and saw Archer. His lips moved into a wan smile. Trip hadn’t said much about it, but Kanatova had mentioned strong analgesic medication so he was well aware that the virus was causing him considerable pain. “Hey, Captain,” he said, weakly. “How are you feeling?” “I’ve been better. What’s the news on the Kumari?” “They’re underway again. We should meet them in a couple of days.” Trip just nodded, tiredly. His eyes were already closing again and this had been the pattern the last two days. Trip just couldn’t stay awake for more than a few minutes at a time. Kanatova had told him that it was something to do with the liver failure. “Is that… going to be… soon enough?” “I’m sure they’ll be here in plenty of time,” said Archer, suddenly finding his voice a little choked. Trip actually smiled at him, as he broke into a coughing fit that wracked his whole body. “Tell me… another one, Captain.” “Shran told me that he’s pushing the engines as hard as he can. You just have to hold on a little longer.” Trip’s eyes shut again. “I’m… doing… my best… here.” His breathing evened out and Archer realised that he’d fallen asleep. He sighed, his head drooping in defeat. He’d been spending more time that he should have down here, looking through the glass into decon, but they’d call him if he was needed on the Bridge. There just was nothing that he could do to help and it made him feel useless. He couldn’t pull any diplomatic strings to make the Kumari get there any faster, or order Reed to destroy the virus with Enterprise’s phase cannons. Trip’s fate rested completely in the hands of a rather unreliable Andorian, whom he still didn’t entirely trust. He was shaken from his thoughts by the com point sounding. “Sato to Archer. I have Colonel Darwin for you.” Archer stepped up to the com point. “Put him through down here, Hoshi.” With Trip asleep he wouldn’t be disturbing him by discussing things with Darwin. “How’s he doing?” asked Darwin with no pleasantries or attempt at a greeting. “Not so good,” replied Archer, quietly. His eyes were still fixed on Trip. Darwin sounded tired. “Kanatova mentioned that she’d started the liver dialysis. Maybe that will help.” “She’s worried about his low platelet count. It’s one of the side effects. It gives with one hand and takes with the other.” “She explained that, but without it his chances are even worse.” Archer nodded, despite Darwin being unable to see him. He realised that Darwin sounded more than just tired, he sounded like he’d been losing sleep, and he thought that perhaps he had an idea of why. “How’s Andros?” “Still unconscious. They’re calling it a coma now. The virus is progressing too. She’s several days behind Trip, but the head injury is complicating everything. Doctor Barker thinks that there could be some brain damage.” “I’m sorry,” said Archer, not entirely certain of what to say. This woman was responsible for Trip lying at death’s door, but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to hate her. Special Projects changed people, that much was obvious. Once upon a time Trip had been the innocent space explorer, that he had always fooled Archer into thinking that he still was, but being in Special Projects had changed that. Whenever Trip showed his Special Projects side, it scared the hell out of him. The fact that Trip knew half a dozen ways to kill him with his bare hands frightened him beyond belief and, most of all, it terrified him that Trip had managed to keep it all hidden for the ten years of their friendship without so much as a glimpse of his other side. If Special Projects had done that to Trip, then he knew what it could do to someone like Andros, who had probably never had the same innocent outlook that Trip had started with. Darwin just sounded sad. “I wish I knew how to feel about this. After the divorce… I just hated her, but so many years have passed. Still, I should feel something, shouldn’t I? Maybe I should still hate her for what she did here and how she treated Trip.” “I don’t hate her,” said Archer. “You don’t?” asked Darwin, disbelief evident in his voice. “I thought I hated the Xindi after they attacked Earth, but once I found out why they did it and how they were being manipulated, I found I couldn’t hate them anymore. I thought I hated you for turning Trip into a killer, but it turns out that I don’t hate you either. Hatred isn’t a particularly productive emotion and it doesn’t serve much purpose. Andros may have done some terrible things, but I can’t hate her. However I do think that she needs help.” “Assuming that she survives this then I’ll make sure that she gets it.” “Good,” said Archer. “I’m sure you called to discuss more than Trip and Andros’ condition.” “Yeah, I have a problem. The Klingon, Commander Gaht, is missing. The MACO guard assigned to him was found unconscious in Gaht’s quarters. I’m conducting a search of the entire base, but so far we haven’t found him. I did tell you that you couldn’t trust a Klingon,” said Darwin. Archer sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as he thought. He did not need anymore complications. The situation on Coriolis was bad enough. They were on the Klingon’s doorstep there and if they bothered to send a patrol in that direction then they’d easily spot Vector in orbit around the planet and probably that would lead to them spotting the MACO base. That might then allow them to discover that Coriolis had one of the richest dilithium deposits in the sector and after that it would only be a matter of time before the Klingons decided to invade. Which was all without a Klingon who had been tortured and held prisoner by Colonel Andros, escaping and telling them what some representatives from Earth had been planning to unleash. If that information got out then protecting Coriolis would become secondary because Earth would be at war with the Klingons. “We need to find him. I want everyone looking for him and I mean everyone. Wake up anyone who isn’t on duty and tell them to get out there. Can we tell if he’s still on the base?” “I’ve got men on the door and they’d have noticed a Klingon trying to get out.” said Darwin. “I’ve also got one of your science staff working on accessing the base cameras.” “Okay, I’m not sure that there’s much more that you can do.” “He’s not trying to escape,” said a scratchy voice. Archer turned to look at Trip, who had obviously heard their conversation. He hadn’t turned off the com link to the decon room. “Why do you say that, Trip?” asked Archer. “It’s that damn… Klingon honour… He gave you his word…” Trip coughed again. “So what is he doing?” asked Darwin. “Looking for revenge?” Trip shook his head. “Nah, he’s looking to get his honour back. He’s after the guy who captured him.” “That was the Coriolans, they were sent to the Klingon outpost to plant the virus,” said Darwin. “They died on the way home, waiting for the Vector to come and pick them up.” “No, that was later,” said Archer. “It was a Coriolan team led by Major Sandrikov that captured Gaht, because they needed a control subject.” “He’s after Sandrikov,” croaked Trip. There was a pause at the other end of the com link and Archer was about to ask Darwin if he was still there when the Colonel spoke. “I suppose I should go and rescue the Major.” Darwin didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic. “I’m pretty sure that the Major can look after himself for a few more minutes,” said Archer. For all Archer cared the Klingon could beat the MACO Major to a bloody pulp. “Sandrikov is in the high security cells,” said Darwin. “How exactly is Gaht planning to get in there?” “He’s an angry Klingon against two MACO guards. I know who I’d bet on,” replied Archer. “You have a point there,” said Darwin. “Would you just go and stop him?” said Trip, rolling his eyes in exasperation. He was looking like he’d fall asleep again at any moment. “I’ll let you know how it goes,” said Darwin. “Okay. And Darwin, I don’t want to hear that Gaht accidentally got shot,” said Archer. “That goes for Sandrikov too.” “You’re hurting my feelings by even suggesting it,” said Darwin. Archer signed off with Darwin. “Nothing is ever simple,” he muttered to himself as he took one last quick look at Trip, who was once more asleep, and headed back to the bridge. ****End of Chapter Fifteen**** When Darwin and a Security team, which included Corporal Jensen, arrived at the holding cells they found Sandrikov and Gaht facing off against each other. Both of them were holding long bladed knives, Gaht’s was a Klingon D’k tagh, and Sandrikov had somehow obtained a MACO issue combat knife. They had obviously been raiding the confiscated property locker. They lunged at one another, blades clanging as the well-muscled MACO matched his strength against the tall Klingon. They were locked with their blades braced against one another for a few moments, but then Sandrikov’s arm weakened and he allowed Gaht to roll past him as he rapidly moved to one side. They circled each other once again and began a series of thrust and cut moves, which were variously parried or avoided. Darwin wasn’t exactly sure how to stop this. He couldn’t allow the MACOs to move in and break it up because they might end up accidentally being knifed. The only alternative that he could think of was to stun both combatants which seemed rather like overkill and would have to be done carefully or it could result in injury. Although the fight showed no clear side taking the advantage at the moment, that could easily change and he didn’t want to have to explain to Archer how he let one of them kill the other. Although it would solve at least one of their problems if Gaht was the one to fall. Darwin gave a shake of his head and admonished himself for thinking that way; Archer had already told him that both combatants were expected to walk away unharmed. He took his phase pistol from its holster, indicating to one of his security officers to do the same. “Commander Gaht, Major Sandrikov, if you don’t stop this now then I will be forced to give the order to shoot,” said Darwin. “This is a private matter,” said Gaht. “I’ll drop my knife when he does,” said Sandrikov. Damned idiot, thought Darwin. Sandrikov could always be relied upon to think with his muscles rather than his brains. It was why he’d never even remotely been in with a chance of joining Darwin’s Special Projects unit. Darwin had only been interested in the smart ones, and his choices had worked out pretty well. It suddenly became obvious that the tide of the match was turning. Sandrikov looked as if he was becoming more and more tired. Darwin knew from experience that the Major was a highly trained hand to hand combat expert, but he wasn’t as strong as the Klingon. It only took Gaht a few more seconds to turn the Major around, disarm him of his knife and suddenly he was holding the D’k tahg to Sandrikov’s neck. Sandrikov now blocked Darwin’s direct line of fire to stun the Klingon, which was rather unfortunate given this course of action had become a priority. “Gaht, stop,” said Darwin. “You can’t do this.” “This human captured me in a dishonourable way. I demanded that he satisfy me and face me in hand to hand combat. He accepted and it was a fair fight. Now I will finish it.” “If you kill him then you’ll be leaving me no choice but to lock you up and Archer will never send you back to Qo’nos. Is that what you want? To be a prisoner forever?” “I would rather die,” pronounced Gaht. “But he needs to pay for dishonouring me.” “They’re going to put Major Sandrikov on trial for what he did here. You don’t need to take revenge on him to regain your honour.” “It isn’t enough,” replied Gaht. “It’s going to have to be,” said Darwin. “I’ve given you the alternative. Now, let him go.” Gaht thought about it for a few seconds and then reluctantly removed the knife from his prisoner’s throat. Major Sandrikov had turned rather pale in the intervening few moments, which didn’t surprise Darwin as he’d always suspected that the Russian was really a coward. He signalled to Jensen and the other MACOs to move forward and take both the Klingon and the Major back into custody, but before they could do so, Gaht had pushed Sandrikov up against a wall and splayed his fingers out. With a sharp slice of the knife, Sandrikov suddenly had one less finger on his left hand. Luckily Gaht had picked the easiest to reach and it was the pinkie that had been removed, falling onto the ground and rolling up against the Major’s boot. The MACO Major emitted a guttural shout, as Gaht released him and he fell to the ground clutching at his hand, blood dripping onto the floor. Darwin was pleased to see that the MACOs had leapt into action immediately, Jensen finding the first aid kit and trying to provide medical aid to Sandrikov, two others restraining the Klingon who seemed determined to collect the severed finger from the floor. Darwin issued orders to get the Klingon out of the room as quickly as possible. If they could get the finger on ice then it was possible that it could be reattached. “My honour is satisfied.” Gaht stood up straight as he was escorted from the area, doing his utmost to look dignified as he was led away. “I didn’t see that one coming,” said Darwin to Jensen, who was carefully bagging the severed finger. “I don’t think I’ll ever understand Klingons, sir,” replied Jensen. **** Archer was sat in his Ready Room, not because he had work to do but mainly because there was nothing for him to do on the Bridge. He was trying to assess future mission targets but his mind kept wandering back to his friend in Decon and the rather precarious situation that still needed to be sorted out back on Coriolis. He hoped that he’d done the right thing by leaving Darwin in charge. Lately he’d begun to understand a bit more of the MACO Colonel’s philosophy and was seeing rather a different side to him. “Reed to Captain Archer, we’ve got some company on the long range scanners. It looks like we have a Klingon shadowing us.” “Just what we need. I’m on my way.” He picked up the padd that he’d been working on and stepped out of the Ready Room onto the bridge, snapping “report,” as he did so. “We have picked up a Klingon D5 battle cruiser on long range scanners. It appears that they are trying to stay out of our sensor range.” T’Pol vacated the Captain’s seat and moved to the science station. “They’re definitely following us,” said Reed. “We’re close to the Klingon border. I expect they’re just keeping an eye on us, but let’s stay alert.” “Yes, sir,” said Reed. “Lieutenant Hess reports that she has been able to achieve warp five point two thanks to Commander Tucker’s suggested modifications to the engine.” “Great, what does that mean for our rendezvous time?” “We should reach the Kumari is five hours less than our original estimate.” Archer nodded. “Remind me to tell Lieutenant Hess “good job” next time I see her.” “Captain, I’ve got a transmission coming in from the Kumari,” said Ensign Sato. “Put it on screen,” said Archer, getting up from his chair. Shran’s face appeared. “We may have a problem.” He was straight to the point as usual. “What sort of a problem?” “Our Klingon friend is back. He’s keeping his distance but I don’t like being watched.” Archer glanced back at T’Pol. “That’s interesting. We’ve just detected a Klingon Bird of Prey shadowing us too.” “What do you want to do?” Shran’s antennae had perked up in interest. “Nothing. Hopefully they’ll keep their distance. If we don’t give them a reason to attack then we should be fine.” “Have you forgotten that we’ve already been attacked?” “No, I haven’t, and if we’re attacked again then we’ll never make the rendezvous in time. Please, don’t do anything stupid.” Shran did not look pleased. “Very well. We’ll stay away from them, if they stay away from us. See you in eighteen hours.” The screen went blank. “I’m sure he does that on purpose just to annoy me,” said Archer, as he collapsed back into his chair. He looked down at the padd that was still in his hands, intending to do some more work on it whilst he was on the Bridge. As he was about to start, T’Pol quietly approached him and suggested, equally quietly that he should get a few hours of sleep. There was considerable determination in her voice. He opened his mouth to argue with her but she gave him a look that told him that she wasn’t going to accept “no” for an answer. So he gave in, handing the Bridge back to his Vulcan Second in Command and went to his quarters. He got ready for bed, and even lay down on the mattress. Porthos, his beagle, snuggled up next to him, but sleep was not forthcoming despite his extreme tiredness. He was still thinking about Trip, lying down in decon fighting for his life as the seconds ticked away. “How does your Uncle Trip get himself into these things, Porthos?” He picked up his water polo ball and threw it against the wall a couple of times. He thought about all the times that he and Trip had watched water polo matches in his quarters or the Captain’s mess. Trip didn’t exactly love water polo but he was a big sports fan so he was happy to learn the new game. They hadn’t done it enough lately and that was something that Archer intended on remedying, should Trip actually survive this latest brush with death. He placed the ball back on the shelf, lay down next to Porthos and tried again to get some sleep. He tried to clear his mind of all his worries, but there were just too many of them. He finally drifted into a rather shallow doze, but his dreams seemed to revolve around Trip. In all of them they would start out doing something trivial like playing poker or watching water polo and Trip would suddenly get sick. Often they’d continue what they were doing as Trip paled and eventually collapsed, and then Archer would step over his body to get another beer as if it didn’t matter that his friend was dying in front of him. Finally he jerked awake. “Trip,” was the first word on his lips. He threw back the covers, rubbing at his eyes as he stumbled out of bed, knowing that he had to go and see the Engineer. He showered and dressed as quickly as he could, and was on his way down the corridor to decon before he realised that he should check in with T’Pol. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep for or what was going on on the bridge. His best friend might be dying from a deadly virus but he was still Captain of Enterprise and he should at least get a status report. He went to the nearest com point and ascertained that all was still running smoothly before resuming his journey down to Decon. “How’s he doing?” asked Archer, clicking on the com. “He’s drifting in and out. I’ve put him on oxygen to help his breathing. His fever is climbing and I’ve increased the anti-pyretics. Phlox suggested some other, rather unconventional treatment. I’ve been down to sickbay to locate the animal in question, and Ensign Cutler helped with collecting the venom.” “Venom?” “It’s a snake, a Jalabrian Adder Phlox called it. In very small quantities, the venom is supposed to be good for improving clotting abilities. We’ll see whether it makes much difference at this stage.” “Phlox is very keen on alternative remedies.” An alarm sounded from within the decon chamber. It signalled that Trip’s heart was losing sinus rhythm, becoming arrhythmic, and if left it could lead to a heart attack. Kanatova moved quickly, injecting a hypo-spray into Trip’s neck. Archer held his breath for a moment while he waited for Trip’s heartbeat to stabilise into something more resembling normality. Whatever she gave him seemed to work and the heart beat evened out once again. “Is that going to keep happening?” “Probably. It’s difficult to say, we’re in new territory with this virus. His condition is very serious, it’s placing a lot of strain on his heart.” Kanatova turned back to Trip to check his vital signs again. Archer wasn’t sure that he could take much more. He was watching his friend die in front of his eyes and no matter what he might do, they couldn’t travel any faster or push the engines any harder. Trip was hooked up to the liver dialysis machine, an IV, oxygen and a blood transfusion pack. His blood pressure was at rock bottom, his liver was failing, he was bleeding internally and his heart was struggling while his immune system tried vainly to fight the virus. They were so close to getting him to the antiviral that it all seemed unnecessarily unfair. Archer was frustrated, stressed, worried and he needed to take his anger out on something. He paced backwards and forwards a couple of times and then closed his fingers into a fist. He’d just drawn back his arm with the intention of slamming his fist into the wall, when a hand reached out and caught him by the elbow. He turned to see Kanatova, minus her helmet but still in her environmental suit. “That will get you nothing, apart from a broken hand,” said Kanatova. “I don’t want to have to worry about treating you while I have a critical patient who needs me.” “Sorry,” said Archer. “I’m not thinking too clearly.” “It’s understandable. I once stopped Colonel Darwin from doing the same thing in a similar situation.” Archer filed that information away for further query later. “Tell me truthfully. He’s not going to make it, is he?” “How long until the Kumari gets here?” “Another five hours,” replied Archer. “I wouldn’t count him out just yet,” said Kanatova, letting go of his arm. “He’s still hanging on.” “But for how much longer?” “He hasn’t given up, you shouldn’t either.” The com sounded and Archer remembered that he should really be on the Bridge. “T’Pol to Captain Archer.” Archer went to the com point. “Go ahead.” “The Klingon ship has changed course to intercept with us.” “I’ll be right there.” Archer turner to Kanatova. “You don’t have to say it, go, I’ll look after him and I’ll call you if his condition changes.” “Thanks,” said Archer, and with a look over his shoulder at Trip, he headed for the Bridge. **** Archer stepped out of the lift to find T’Pol, Reed, Mayweather and Sato stood around the table in the situation room. Reed looked concerned, but T’Pol’s features were as unreadable as ever while she studied the schematic on the table display. “Report, Commander T’Pol,” said Archer, taking his place among the group. T’Pol looked up and straightened. “We detected a change in the Klingon ship’s course. If it maintains its current speed and heading then it should intercept our course at the point where we are scheduled to meet with the Kumari.” “Is that by accident or have they worked out that we’re meeting the Andorians?” Reed folded his arms across his chest before he answered. “Given that we know the Kumari was being shadowed as well, I think they’ve probably concluded that we’re up to something with the Andorians. They probably want to know what it is and make sure we’re not planning on violating their border.” Archer stared at the image on the display. It showed the projected path of the Klingon Bird of Prey and the intercept point with the Kumari. “Do they know that we’ve detected them?” “Now that their proximity has increased, it is very probable that they are aware that they have been detected,” said T’Pol. “We’re meeting in a neutral area of space. They shouldn’t have a problem with it,” said Mayweather. “Shouldn’t being the operative word, Ensign,” replied Reed. “What about if it comes down to a fire fight? Can we beat them?” asked Archer. “Its offensive capability is impressive. It would be a tough fight but I’d like to think we’d come out on top eventually. With the Kumari backing us up, it should be a convincing victory, but that depends on how damaged the other Klingon ship is. It’s a safe bet that they’re converging on the rendezvous point too.” “We should start drawing up a battle plan. I don’t think they’re going to be interested in talking.” Archer scowled at the display. Reed gave a curt nod of agreement. “I’ll start immediately. We should contact Kumari and let Shran know what’s going on.” “That could be difficult if we don’t want the Klingons to intercept the message. We don’t have an Andorian encryption key.” Hoshi looked apologetic. “Just tell Shran that our Klingon friend is on an intercept course. We’ll worry about working with the Kumari when we get there. You’d better send a message back to Colonel Darwin as well, let him know the score.” “Yes, Captain.” Hoshi moved away to the communications console to start sending the messages. Reed too moved back from the table. “I’ll get down to the Armoury. I want to make sure everything is prepared in case they decide to take issue with us.” “Okay, keep me updated on that battle plan.” “Yes, sir,” replied Reed, and took the few steps to the turbo lift and left the Bridge. “You did not say how Commander Tucker is doing,” said T’Pol. Archer let out a long breath. “He’s hanging in there.” “I visited him while you were sleeping, but he was also asleep at the time. I had hoped to be able to speak with him. We had some… outstanding discussions that I wanted to resolve.” “He’s going to make it, T’Pol.” Archer said it kindly. This wasn’t a rebuke, he’d known T’Pol too long to think that she’d already written Trip off, but she fell back on her logical training sometimes when under stress, particularly emotional stress. Logically, looking at the odds, Trip should not survive this. “You are assuming that all the variables will fall at the correct outcome. That is most unlikely.” “I should have just thrown him onto Enterprise as soon as we knew that he had the virus. Protocols be damned.” “You were also respecting his wishes,” said T’Pol. “Yes, and look where it got us. We’re in the same situation as we would have been in, except we’ve lost three days sitting on our hands when we could have been on our way to meet with the Kumari. You can do the math, T’Pol. You know how much time that could have saved us.” “When you made the decision, we had expected the Kumari to arrive on time and the virus to progress much more slowly. You could not have predicted either of these things.” T’Pol paused for just two beats of his heart before continuing. “And, as you have said, Commander Tucker is going to make it.” Archer smiled in reply, caught out in the middle of his guilt trip by his own words to T’Pol seconds earlier. “Yes, he is and we’d better make sure that the ship is still in one piece when he gets better. I want you to get me everything that you can on Andorian battle tactics against Klingons, and send a copy to Mister Reed as well.” T’Pol inclined her head in acknowledgement. “I will see to it immediately.” **** The Vulcan database had extensive details of Andorian battle tactics. This didn’t surprise Archer, as they’d had frequent conflicts in the past. Archer pored over the reports and the time until their arrival at the rendezvous slipped away, until finally T’Pol commed him to say that they were nearing the rendezvous coordinates. Archer stepped out of his Ready Room onto the Bridge. Everyone was prepared and noticeably keyed up, waiting for the Klingon’s arrival. On the screen was a picture of the approaching Kumari. “How long until we’re in transporter range?” asked Archer. “A few minutes,” said T’Pol. “We’ll drop out of warp for the transport, then turn around and head back for Coriolis. Hopefully we can persuade the Klingons not to follow us.” “I’ve got two Klingon Birds of Prey approaching on opposing vectors,” said Reed. “The Kumari has raised its shields,” said T’Pol. “A transport will not be possible.” “What?” asked Archer. “Get me Shran.” “Yes, sir,” said Hoshi, pressing buttons on her console as she did so. Shran appeared on the view screen a moment later. “Shran, we’re not in transporter range yet, why have you raised your shields?” “In case you hadn’t noticed, we’ve got two Klingon battle cruisers bearing down on us.” Shran looked decidedly annoyed, as if he couldn’t quite see the point of the current conversation. “We need to beam Doctor Phlox on board as soon as possible. Lower your shields.” “He can beam across after the threat is dealt with.” Phlox suddenly appeared beside Shran. “Put me on a shuttle pod.” “How did you get onto my bridge?” Shran asked the Denobulan, angrily. “One of your crew was kind enough to point me in the right direction. I think I may have treated them earlier. I need to get to Commander Tucker now and it can’t wait until the Klingons have been dealt with.” Archer knew just how stubborn Phlox could be when he wanted to and he didn’t look like he was going to back down. “I won’t jeopardise the safety of my crew for one man, Doctor. I’m not lowering the shields.” “As I said, I’ll take a shuttle pod.” “Phlox, if the Klingons start shooting, you could be caught in the middle,” said Archer. “I need to get this anti-viral to the Commander and, if the transporter is out of the question, then I can’t see any other way.” Phlox seemed completely serious. “You’ll need a pilot and I won’t order any of my men to take you.” Archer couldn’t tell if Shran was just looking for excuses not to give Phlox a shuttle pod or he really was concerned about his men. “I volunteer, Commander,” said Lieutenant Marev. Phlox gave a shrug. He didn’t exactly look happy about Marev being his pilot either. “If the Lieutenant is willing…” Shran practically growled with annoyance. “Fine, take a shuttle pod and go to Enterprise. Just stay out of my firing line. And I want the shuttle pod back at the end of this.” The screen went blank as Shran cut off the communication. “Captain, the Klingons are powering up their weapons,” said Reed suddenly. “I’m polarising the hull plating.” “Hoshi, open a channel to the closest Klingon ship,” said Archer, urgently. Sato opened a channel and spoke in quick, guttural Klingon. The image of the Klingon commander appeared on the screen in front of Archer. He had a large forehead that looked like a truck tire had driven over it and the longest hair that Archer had seen on any Klingon male. It fell down to his waist in completely straight black skeins. “My name is Captain Archer, of the Earth ship Enterprise. We’re in neutral territory and on a mission of mercy.” “I am Commander D’kahg of the Imperial Klingon ship Torok. A Klingon outpost near here was attacked recently. Yours are the only ships that we’ve found in the vicinity. In my eyes that makes you guilty.” “We haven’t set foot in Klingon territory and we have no argument with you. We just want to perform a personnel transfer and then we’ll be on our way.” “I find it hard to believe that an Andorian and a Human ship have personnel to transfer.” “We’re transferring a doctor for a sick crewman.” “Then why is the Andorian vessel powering up its weapons?” asked D’kahg, a horrible bite to his voice. “Leave this area immediately or we will be forced to open fire to protect our border.” The screen went blank. “What the hell does Shran think he’s doing?” asked Archer to no one in particular. “Hoshi, call the Kumari and tell them to stand down.” Hoshi tapped away at her console. “Sir, they’re not answering my hails, and it looks like they’ve started jamming all communications frequencies.” “This is a standard Andorian battle tactic,” said T’Pol. “I read the files,” replied Archer. “The shuttle is leaving the Kumari,” added T’Pol. “Mister Mayweather, get us between those Klingons and the shuttle.” “Yes, sir,” said the helmsman. “How long until they dock?” “Approximately ten minutes.” The Klingon vessel decided that it had had enough and sent what could be assumed to be a warning shot across Kumari’s bow. It missed both ships, but it signalled that the Klingons were serious about moving them on. Kumari fired its own warning shot, which almost grazed the hull of the Torok. That was the only invitation that the Klingons needed to open fire, and this time they were aiming to hit. The Kumari took off away from Enterprise, trying to get into a better position, leaving Enterprise to protect the shuttle and itself. The second Klingon ship bore down on Enterprise firing its weapons. The hull plating was able to absorb some of the fire but not all. “Sir, I have reports of fires on C and D decks. Damage control crews are responding,” said Hoshi. “Kanatova to the Bridge, this is not a good time to be shaking the ship to pieces, Captain.” Behind the Doctor’s voice, Archer could hear an erratic beep that was the trace of Trip’s heart rate. It didn’t sound stable and being flung around couldn’t be helping. There wasn’t much that Archer could do however, apart from pray that Trip could hold on just a little longer. “The Klingons aren’t going to stop if we ask nicely, Doctor,” he threw back at her. “Just do your best and I’ll let you know when Phlox is on board. Bridge out.” Reed was busily returning fire, as the Klingon ship swooped past them and turned for another attack run. Several of Enterprise’s shots found their mark but it wasn’t enough to slow the Bird of Prey down. “Sir, we have to be able to manoeuvre or we’re going to be sitting ducks.” “Just another few minutes,” replied Archer. The Klingon ship had just started their attack run again when, suddenly, the Kumari dived towards them, firing as it went, and the other Klingon still on its tail. It was enough to distract both Klingon ships away from Enterprise for a few moments. It should have given them enough time to get the shuttle pod docked, but luck wasn’t on their side. Archer watched with horror through the view screen as a stray shot caught the top of the shuttle pod. It didn’t look like it had done much in the way of damage but it flipped the Andorian shuttle pod over and over, sending it off its trajectory and into open space. “Captain, the shuttle,” said Reed. “I see it. Get us over there, Mister Mayweather.” “They’re regaining attitude control,” said T’Pol. Lieutenant Marev appeared to be a passable pilot. “One of the Klingons is breaking off its attack on the Kumari,” said Reed. “I think they’ve spotted the shuttle.” “Travis, get us as close as you can, we need to get them on board before the Klingons decide to start taking pot shots again.” “I’ve got a trick I can try,” said Mayweather. “It might mean we scrape the paint a little.” “Do whatever you have to, just get that shuttle on board.” “Yes, sir,” said Travis. “Deploy the magnetic docking arm, I’m going to catch us a shuttle.” Archer almost couldn’t believe his eyes as Mayweather brought Enterprise in over the Andorian shuttle and, with huge concentration written across his face, gently eased the ship down so that the magnetic docking clamp picked up the shuttle. It was a display of piloting skill that he wasn’t sure any other helmsman could have rivalled. Mayweather really did have an affinity for Enterprise’s controls that no one else did, himself included, and as a former test pilot, he knew what he was talking about. “The docking clamp is engaged,” said T’Pol, unable to keep a slight hint of surprise out of her voice. “We are bringing them in.” “Nice flying, Travis,” said Archer. “Let’s go and give the Kumari a hand. Hoshi, call Captain Kanatova and let her know Phlox is on board.” “I’ll despatch a security officer to look after Lieutenant Marev,” said Reed. “Good idea, I don’t like the idea of a Vela Kari officer on my ship, but we didn’t have much choice at the time.” Mayweather turned Enterprise around, the Klingon who had broken off its attack on the Kumari following. They were once more under fire. “Lieutenant Reed, you know what to do.” “Yes, sir,” replied Reed, locking his weapons on the Klingon vessel attacking the Kumari. “Ensign Mayweather, turn us towards the Kumari.” Archer moved over to Hoshi’s console. “Hoshi, transmit this exact message to Shran. Tell him Colonel Darwin is about to make his big entrance and Kumari needs to move because Kasspin is losing an engine. We’ll give him a signal.” “Captain, that doesn’t make any sense,” said Hoshi. “That’s the point, Hoshi. Hopefully Shran will know what it means.” “Break left when he sees us coming,” said Reed. “Let’s just hope that he remembers which engine the Kasspin lost when we went down,” said Archer. “Otherwise there could be a very abrupt end to this battle.” “I’ll be happy with an abrupt end if this goes according to plan,” replied Reed. Hoshi looked a little puzzled but sent the message. “Commander Shran acknowledges the message. He wasn’t very complimentary about it however.” “He doesn’t have to like it, just do as he’s told. Take us in, Travis.” “Yes, sir,” said the helmsman. Enterprise sped towards the Kumari, as if she was going for a head on collision. The Klingon on their tail was sticking to them like glue. Kumari turned in towards them, both ships now closing on each other at their combined speed. This was a game of chicken on a huge scale and Archer didn’t intend on losing it. Reed fired a single burst of phase cannon fire into open space which was the signal for the Kumari to break off. Shran’s pilot executed the manoeuvre perfectly, turning Kumari hard to starboard. At the same moment Enterprise banked hard to its own starboard side, and the two Klingon ships were left speeding towards each other at a high velocity. As they saw Enterprise and Kumari turn, both ships tried to break off as well but by the time they executed the move, it was too late. They had continued to close on each other for a valuable few extra seconds while orders were given and even though they both pulled away in different directions, there wasn’t enough room for a clean getaway. Fire exploded as the starboard wings of the two Birds of Prey smashed into each other, rending both ships immobile and dead in space. Pieces of their wing sections flew off as smaller explosions continued to blossom. “Both Klingon vessels are disabled,” said T’Pol. “Captain, I have Commander Shran for you,” said Hoshi. “Put him through,” said Archer, and Shran’s blue skinned face appeared on the screen. “What would you have done if I’d turned to port?” “You didn’t.” “Remind me never to get on your wrong side, Archer. You fight dirty.” Shran was smiling now. “Actually, you should thank Lieutenant Reed for that particular inspired piece of tactics.” “Whoever was responsible, it did the job. They’ll think twice before tangling with us again. I have a prisoner to collect and more anti-viral to deliver to Coriolis, so if you don’t mind, we’ll be on our way at top speed.” “We’ll see you in a couple of days,” said Archer, nodding in agreement. “Safe journey, Kumari out.” The screen returned to its view of the two disabled Birds of Prey. They watched as Kumari set its course and became a small dot in the distance as its warp drive engaged. “Set course for Coriolis. Warp four point five. T’Pol you have the bridge, I’ll be at decon.” T’Pol gave him a nod of acknowledgement, as she took the Captain’s chair. He knew that she would have liked to come with him to decon but someone had to stay on the Bridge for now. With Klingons in the vicinity, even disabled ones, they needed to remain on high alert. For once, he was happy to abuse the privilege of being the Captain and he doubted anyone on the Bridge blamed him for it. He stepped off the turbo lift and ran the last few metres to decon. He skidded to a halt just outside the observation window in time to hear the ominous sound of a single continuous tone. Archer knew what it meant without even looking at the biomonitor. Trip’s heart had stopped. ****End of Chapter Sixteen**** Archer watched as Phlox and Kanatova, both in their bulky environment suits, worked frantically on Trip. The Engineer was still and even though it had only been a few hours since Archer had last seen him, he looked even worse than before. “Clear,” shouted Phlox as he brought down the defibrillator on Trip’s chest and the man beneath jerked from the jolt of electricity. A few distinct beeps appeared on the screen, but they were erratic and not in the usual rhythm of a heart. “Come on Trip, pick up the beat,” said Kanatova. Her Russian accent had developed an edge to it, her emotion showing through. Slowly but surely Trip’s heart did start to fall into sinus rhythm. Phlox continued to stare at the trace for a few moments, before he obviously decided that he was happy with the way it looked, and it wasn’t going to immediately falter again. Kanatova allowed her shoulders to slump a little in relief. “He seems to be holding his own again,” said Phlox. “I thought you’d given him the anti-viral,” said Archer. “It was the anti-viral that caused this reaction,” said Phlox. “His body was suddenly assailed by anti-bodies that it didn’t recognise and in his already weakened state it led to a heart attack. I was aware that this might happen but I had no choice, knowing what the alternative was. Unfortunately all we can do now is wait until the anti-viral has time to take effect.” “How long will that be?” asked Archer. “A few hours,” said Phlox. “Once I’m certain that the virus is dead we can move him out of here and into more comfortable surroundings. I’m sure that Doctor Kanatova has already told you that curing the virus is only the first step.” “What do you mean?” “The virus has done considerable damage to his body and it will all take time to heal. After a virus as aggressive as this one, it is not unusual to be left with permanent problems and even secondary conditions.” What Archer could see of Phlox through his helmet visor, looked very serious. “Isn’t there anything else you can do?” “Until I am sure that the virus has been eradicated, I’ve done everything that can be done.” “But he is going to live?” asked Archer. “I can’t give you a guarantee at this point, but, yes, I think he is.” **** Trip had been oblivious to the attacking Klingon Birds of Prey and to the great danger he had been in. He was unaware that the virus had come very close to killing him. Later, he tried to describe the sensation that he’d felt as he’d fallen into unconsciousness, but it defied description. The closest he could come was to how it felt to drown, and, yes, that was something that he’d experienced too. It had been a diving accident. The water had closed over his head as he’d dropped down through the waves towards the sea bed, and he’d been very aware of his own small existence in the vast depths. He’d also been very aware of the need to take a breath but not being able to, to have to drag out his available oxygen. For a few moments it was as if time froze around him. Then his diving buddy had pulled him up, given him oxygen and the world had started moving again. That was what falling into the velvet depths of his unconscious felt like, except this time there was hurt with him everywhere. Despite Kanatova’s pain medication, which she had ramped up to some fairly hefty levels, Trip had still been in considerable pain and it had stayed with him into unconsciousness. He had fought for every breath that he took and he had refused to give in to some comfortable release from it all. He’d got too much to resolve in the land of the living to give up on life so easily. However, at some point the fight to hold on became less difficult and he felt himself getting closer to the surface of consciousness. The only problem was that it still hurt. It hurt to breathe and it hurt not to, which seemed unfair to say the least. Finally the pain stopped being something to fight against and became an annoyance that was enough to pull him into wakefulness. Trip woke up. The first thing he noticed was that he was alive. This was rather unexpected but he was damn glad that he was. The second thing he noticed was that the lights were down low, which meant that it was night time on board Enterprise. The third thing that he noticed was that he was in Sick Bay. That surprised him because he was supposed to be contagious and in isolation. Obviously some time had passed and things had changed while he slept. A quick inventory of his body told him that he still ached all over, but he didn’t feel hot anymore. He tried to move an arm so that he could raise a hand to his face and rub some of the sleep out of his eyes, but it felt like it was made of lead. Tiredness was still an overriding sensation so he just took in his surroundings for a moment, which was when he finally noticed someone asleep, sat in a chair, hunched over on the end of the biobed by his right foot. A brown haired head, cradled on elegant arms rested on top of his blanket. “T’Pol,” he croaked. His voice cracked at the edges from lack of use. His throat was dry, so he swallowed and tried again, this time breaking into a cough. It achieved the desired affect of waking his Vulcan visitor, but it wasn’t exactly what he’d been aiming for. T’Pol raised her head, eyes blinking and then widening in surprise as she realised that Trip was awake. She got up from her chair, perfectly poised as always, even after sleeping in such a back breaking position. She said nothing, but simply moved to the nearby lab bench and poured some water from a jug into a glass. She came back to Trip’s side and with one hand held the glass to his lips, lifting his head a little with the other. Trip raised his eyebrows at the gesture, but as he once again tried to persuade his weak limbs to work he realised why T’Pol was helping. “Drink, slowly,” she said. Trip took a couple of mouthfuls, before he nodded, indicating that he’d had enough. T’Pol gently let his head rest back on the pillow and replaced the glass on the side. She turned back to him, clasping her hands behind her back. Trip wasn’t sure what to say or where to start with the many questions that he had. “I’m alive so obviously the anti-viral worked. I don’t remember much after I was transferred to Enterprise.” He took in the various tubes that ran into and out of his body and tried to remember what they were all for. “You came very close to losing your life,” said T’Pol, her voice quiet. Although her tone was flat her eyes told him that she had been, and was still, worried about him. “How close?” “I believe your heart stopped and you had to be resuscitated. You should ask Doctor Phlox if you want exact details.” “Not sure that I do,” replied Trip. “Where is he?” “We are in orbit around Coriolis. He went to the surface to oversee Colonel Andros’ treatment. Captain Kanatova is on call, however I believe she is asleep now. I can call her for you if you wish.” “No, it’s okay. The full story can wait until it’s not the middle of the night.” “I should inform Phlox that you are awake and then return to duty.” T’Pol made to leave. “Can’t you stay a little while? Keep me company? I’m not sure that I’m going to be awake much longer anyway.” “Your body has expended considerable energy in fighting the virus it is natural for you to be tired,” said T’Pol. “Yeah, and weak as a kitten,” yawned Trip. “Hey, am I still yellow?” “The colour is fading, but you have many broken capillaries that have caused bruises. The doctor assured us that they will disappear in time.” T’Pol almost sounded pleased by this, as if she had an interest in Trip’s appearance. Trip gave T’Pol a teasing smile. “Nice to know I’ll get my looks back.” “I am,” T’Pol paused, and it seemed that she was having trouble finding the right words to say. “I am… glad that you survived. I would have felt your loss greatly.” “Wow, T’Pol, that’s about the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” said Trip, already fading. His eyes closed and he blinked heavily. “Sorry… to be rude… but I can’t keep my eyes open.” His eyelids fell shut more firmly this time. He missed T’Pol affectionately adjusting the blanket that was covering him so that it was perfectly positioned to keep him warm. He missed her fingers lingering on his chest. He missed the look that crossed her face, but anyone watching would have said love could be seen in her eyes. It vanished just as quickly as it had come, suppressed once more and buried to the bottom of her heart. She moved away from the biobed and commed Phlox to let him know that his patient had briefly been awake. With that task complete she returned to her seat beside the biobed, picked up a padd and began reviewing the previous day’s sensor logs, seemingly with no intention of going anywhere for some time, regardless of her earlier words to Trip. **** Phlox received the news of Trip’s brief awakening with undisguised joy. Archer was happy too but wished that he could have been there when it happened. Unfortunately he had things to do on Coriolis, and couldn’t sit vigil at Trip’s bedside as he had done in the past when Trip had been injured. As soon as Phlox had been able to say unequivocally that the virus was dead and Trip could be moved back to sickbay, Archer had breathed a sigh of relief and gone back to work. He’d managed to visit Trip a couple of times since, but so far he’d been dead to the world and no one was quite sure when he was going to decide to wake up. Apparently there had been a friendly face there when Trip awoke so he didn’t feel too guilty about not being there. Archer was currently more concerned with Phlox’s other patient. He, Phlox and Darwin were standing outside isolation looking in at Colonel Daria Andros, who had now been given the anti-viral and was occasionally awake. She seemed to be responding to treatment and her fever was going down, but the skull fracture was still causing the doctors some worry. “She has a history of head injury,” said Phlox. “Hard not to when you’re a MACO,” said Darwin. “I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve been hit on the head.” “When did she wake up?” asked Archer. “Yesterday,” said Phlox. “The brain injury itself was fairly minor, but the prior injuries have exacerbated the problem. However, it does appear that her condition has improved considerably in the last twenty-four hours.” “We’re destroying this base. Can we move her?” “She’ll have to be moved carefully, but as long as the head injury is stabilised it should be possible. Of course Doctor Kanatova was completely correct to wait until her condition had improved before risking it. Luckily the damage done by the virus was fairly minimal compared to what Commander Tucker suffered.” Archer didn’t voice his opinions about how unfair that was. He doubted either the Doctor or Colonel Darwin wanted to hear it and he wasn’t sure that they’d actually agree with him. They may not like Andros but she was still a human being and apparently Darwin’s feelings towards her were complicated. “What about her prognosis?” asked Darwin. “The doctors were talking about brain damage.” “You’ve seen for yourself that her responses to stimuli are slower and it looks as if her left side will always have some permanent weakness. It’s impossible to say whether she’ll make a complete recovery, but physiotherapy should help.” “But she’ll never be able to serve on active duty again,” said Darwin. Phlox shrugged. “I doubt that she’ll ever regain the level of mobility required to reach MACO fitness standards.” “Has anyone told her? The MACOs is her life.” “I thought perhaps you might be the best person to do that,” said Phlox. “Yeah, you may be right there,” said Darwin, definitely not looking forward to that particular duty. “I’m still going to recommend that she’s court martialled,” said Archer. “Well, problem solved, Captain. No need to drum her out of the service in disgrace when she’s partially paralysed.” There was real disgust behind Darwin’s words and Archer recoiled slightly. “You like ruining people’s careers, don’t you?” “I don’t like ruining anyone’s career, but when people break the rules, they have to pay for it. She tried to start her own private war against the Klingons and she didn’t care who got caught in the middle,” Archer replied, angrily. “You told me yourself that you thought she needed help. Court martialling her isn’t going to help her.” “You may be right, but those are the regulations and I have to abide by them.” “Gentlemen!” Phlox stepped between the two men, effectively defusing the argument. Darwin lent against the edge of the observation window, hanging his head in defeat. “So that’s the plan, we throw her to wolves, when we know that there’s someone else sanctioning what she did?” “Unless you can tell me who that is, I don’t see that we have a choice,” said Archer. Darwin shook his head and straightened himself up. “I’d better talk to her, and I’d prefer to have a little privacy.” Archer nodded. “We’ll transfer her to Enterprise the day after tomorrow, if Phlox says she’s fit enough. Will you be ready for the demolition by then?” “Sure, we can have it set up by then. We’ll do the whole decommissioning ceremony thing that the Coriolans want and then we can wipe this place off the face of Coriolis. No one will ever know that it was here.” “Good, that’s what we need. The less evidence that we were ever here the better.” “Hey, I’m pretty damn good at blowing things up,” said Darwin. “I know,” said Archer, ruefully. Shran appeared from the other end of the corridor and strode purposefully towards the group. “Have any of you seen Lieutenant Marev?” Everyone shook their heads. “I would have thought you’d keep a leash on that one,” said Darwin. “I’m beginning to wish that I had,” said Shran. “All this secrecy and intrigue is getting on my nerves. I prefer a fair fight, without any skulking about.” Archer’s communicator beeped and he answered it. “Archer, go ahead.” “Captain, we have a situation in the cells,” said Lieutenant Reed. “Commander Gaht again?” asked Archer. “Lieutenant Marev,” said Reed. “She just stunned two of my men and shot Doctor Shirek before I could stop her. He’s dead, sir.” “What!” shouted Shran, already striding in the direction of the high security cells. “I’m going to kill her.” “I have her under guard, but I thought Commander Shran would like to take custody of her,” continued Reed. “Commander Shran is headed in your direction, Lieutenant, and he doesn’t look pleased. I’m on my way.” Archer shut his communicator. He knew exactly what had happened here. Shirek was the Andorians’ evidence that the Vela Kari had been involved and without him there was no proof that they had done anything. Without Shirek the Andorian virus could be passed off as a Klingon mistake. The Telispa had merely stumbled on to a biological research outpost. Shran had hoped to put Shirek on trial and make an example of him. That was most definitely not going to happen now. Archer arrived at the cells a few seconds behind Shran. He could hear the Andorian shouting at Marev as he approached down the corridor. “Do you realise what you’ve done? You’ve just killed the only chance that we had of bringing anyone to justice for the Andorians who died from the virus. This would have made the Vela Kari accountable for their actions. If you have an explanation, then I want to hear it now!” “I was following orders,” said the Lieutenant. “I was doing this for Andoria.” “You weren’t doing it for Andoria. You did it for your Vela Kari friends,” said Shran, derisively. “Shran,” said Archer. “Shirek is dead and there’s nothing we can do about that. Shouting about it isn’t going to change anything.” “No, but it might make me feel better. Sling her in one of the cells and I’ll send some people to collect her. I’ll decide later whether I send them before or after this building is blown to dust.” “You won’t have to,” said Marev. She bit down hard and everyone heard a click. Marev closed her eyes and crumpled to the floor. Reed knelt down beside her and felt for a pulse. He shook his head as he failed to find any sign of life. “She’s dead.” “What just happened?” asked Archer. “She committed suicide,” said Shran and stormed out of the room, not waiting to hear any further comments from Archer or Reed. Archer turned to Reed. “Vela Kari covering their tracks.” “She must have had the Andorian equivalent of a cyanide capsule hidden in a tooth. I’ll arrange for the bodies to be sent up to the Kumari. I don’t think that there’s anything else for us to do here. It’s an Andorian matter.” “I agree. Shran’s pissed but I don’t have time to calm him down. I need to go back to Enterprise and let the Admiral know what’s going on. I’m leaving you in charge until I get back. Don’t let Darwin try to tell you what to do.” “Yes, sir,” said Reed. **** Trip was trying to persuade his doctor, and T’Pol, that he should be allowed to go down to Coriolis for the decommissioning ceremony. It was actually more that he wanted to see for himself the destruction of the MACO base in what promised to be a spectacular explosion, but that alone wouldn’t be enough to persuade them that he needed to be there. Neither of them were being very sympathetic to his arguments so far. “This is the last time I’ll get to see Coriolis and I want to say goodbye to Jerry, Amy and, I guess, Gaht, since I assume he’s not coming with us on Enterprise.” “You only woke up yesterday,” said Kanatova. “And you’re still sleeping eighteen hours a day. You’re too weak for me to even consider letting you out of sickbay, and Phlox will agree with me.” “I’ll be fine. I can sleep in the shuttlepod on the way down and come straight back.” Trip wasn’t going to be swayed by such trivialities as the fact that he was a bit tired. In fact he felt wiped out most of the time, but that wasn’t information that he was going to pass on. “It is extremely illogical to put your health at risk in order to say goodbye to friends. If they are your friends then they will understand why you are not able to be there and want you to take care of yourself.” T’Pol was, as always, right, but that didn’t mean that he was going to listen to her. “It matters to me that I’m there. You know that I’m going to get there somehow, even if it means I have to bribe half of Enterprise to do it. Wouldn’t it be better for me if you got everything set up properly?” The two women were both looking rather exasperated. Kanatova in particular had pursed her lips in annoyance. “I could sedate you and then you’d sleep through the whole thing, none the wiser.” Kanatova definitely knew how to play dirty when necessary. “You wouldn’t,” said Trip. “You know that I would. I have.” “And I didn’t speak to you for a week afterwards,” replied Trip. “If that’s supposed to deter me then it isn’t much of a threat. I’d be happy to have the peace and quiet.” “I concur,” said T’Pol. “Damn it. I am going, and you’re not going to stop me. Let me talk to the Captain.” “He will say the same thing,” said T’Pol. “Do you want to try getting out of bed?” asked Kanatova. “You’re hooked up to the dialysis machine twelve hours a day and it isn’t the easiest piece of machinery to move.” “I won’t be gone long enough for it to make much difference.” “Fine, I’ll make you a deal. If you can beat me at arm wrestling then you can go down to Coriolis,” said Kanatova. “Fine,” said Trip, determined and held up his right hand, resting the elbow on the bed. Thin tubes dangled from where IVs ran into the back of his hand. Kanatova didn’t even have to do anything, she just waited a few seconds and watched Trip’s hand droop towards the bed once again, as he was unable to hold it up. “Damn it. That isn’t fair.” “It is however a good demonstration of why we are insisting that you remain in sickbay,” said T’Pol. “I keep telling you that I’m just tired, and I’ll be stronger tomorrow.” Archer chose that moment to wander in to sickbay to visit his recovering Chief Engineer. When all eyes turned towards him, he stopped in his tracks. “Did I pick a bad moment?” “They won’t let me go to the decommissioning ceremony,” said Trip. He was starting to feel tired again but if he gave up now, he’d never get to go. “I thought I told you not to tell him,” said Archer. “It wasn’t their fault. I wanted to know where you were and why we hadn’t left Coriolis yet. It was obvious that something was going on.” “Well it just so happens that you’re in luck. Premier Dvortshang… whatever his name is, requested your presence. He said something about his son wanting to see you,” said Archer. “Captain, he is not well enough to leave sickbay, let alone go down to Coriolis,” said Kanatova, and mumbled something in annoyed Russian. “What does that mean?” asked Trip, crossly. “She suggested that you and the Captain are both as bad as each other,” said T’Pol. “You speak Russian,” said Kanatova. “I speak several human dialects,” said T’Pol. “If he’s really not able to travel then I agree, he has to stay here, but how about he just goes down for an hour,” said Archer. “Two hours,” said Trip, trying to get a little extra leeway out of his doctor. “Don’t push your luck,” said Kanatova. “One hour. Then you come straight back here.” “I guess I can live with that.” “I think it’s the only way you’re getting there,” said Archer. “It’ll have to do. Now you’re here, maybe you can fill me in on what’s been going on down on the surface. No one will tell me anything.” Trip looked pointedly at T’Pol and Kanatova. “That’s because you’re not supposed to be doing anything stressful and the political situation down on Coriolis is definitely stressful.” “Speaking of which, I have duties to get back to,” said T’Pol, catching Trip’s eye. “I will return later.” “Thanks for stopping by,” said Trip, and despite his tiredness he found himself appreciating T’Pol’s rear view as she left sickbay. He almost missed what Archer was saying, and tuned in again as he was explaining how they were going to deal with the Klingon threat to Coriolis. “The Andorians have agreed to send a patrol in this direction every so often and Enterprise will pop by when it’s in the area. That should be enough to deter the Klingons from looking too closely.” Trip wearily shook his head. “I’m not sure it’ll do much good. One day the Klingons are going to work out that there’s a fortune in dilithium down there and then we’ll need an army to stop them.” “By then we might have one,” said Archer. “You never know. What about the engine? Is it going to be scrapped?” “Yes. I’m sorry. I know you worked pretty hard on it with the Coriolans, but if they ever get a ship outside their solar system, the Klingons will start getting interested and they’re just not ready for that. I tried to persuade the Andorians that it would be useful to have another warp capable ally in this area of space, but they’re not prepared to have a standing protection detail for the Coriolans while they build a fleet. The patrol ship looking in was all I could get.” “What did the Coriolans say?” “Actually the Premier saw the sense in it. They know that we’re out here now and how to build the engine. One of these days we’ll be able to let them launch it.” “Isn’t this all sounding kind of familiar?” said Trip. “The Vulcans stopped us from building a warp engine for years because they said we weren’t ready. I know what we thought about that when we were the ones sitting at home. Enterprise kind of proved that we were ready, despite what the Vulcans said.” “We weren’t sitting on the doorstep of the Klingons, but I understand what you’re saying. Maybe the Vulcans did have a point about the universe being a scary place to set foot in for the first time.” “I never thought I’d hear you say that,” said Trip. “There are a lot of things that I’ve said these last few year years that I never thought I’d hear myself say,” said Archer. “If I could guarantee that we could be here whenever a Klingon Bird of Prey flies past, then I’d have no problem letting them launch their new ship, but it’s just too dangerous.” Trip nodded tiredly and yawned. “I think I owe you an apology. It’s pretty obvious that I’d be dead now, if it wasn’t for you throwing my sorry ass into decon and flying me halfway to Andoria. I just wanted to say thanks for ignoring me, and sorry for being a stubborn son of a bitch.” “Trip, I know your moral code means a lot to you and I’m sorry there wasn’t any other way to do it. I also want you to know that I do understand why you didn’t want me to do it, but you’re my friend and I wish to god sometimes that you’d just do something selfish once in a while. What you did in the past is just that, the past. It’s time to move on.” “Yeah, tell that to Colonel Andros, and Darwin, and anyone else who wants an Engineer with covert ops training.” Trip’s words were beginning to slur together, and he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer. “No one wants to let me move on,” he said, as his eyes shut and he was asleep before Archer could answer. **** Archer watched rather sadly as Trip was lifted from the shuttlepod by Reed and Mayweather. He wasn’t sad that Trip was here, but he was sad that Trip was so weakened by the virus that he couldn’t even manage to step out of the shuttlepod. A wheelchair was waiting for him and he fell into it rather than sat. Mayweather placed a blanket over Trip’s lap to ward off the slight chill in the air, and checked that the IV lines hadn’t been tangled in the move before pushing Trip forwards. He looked worn out, as if even the journey down from Enterprise had been enough to tire him, and Archer wondered if that was actually the case. Kanatova had suggested, or rather threatened, sedation for the journey but Trip wouldn’t hear of it. Archer guessed that he was paying for that small victory now. T’Pol had been left in charge of Enterprise. She had seen no reason to witness the destruction of the MACO base and hadn’t understood their need to see the end of this place. It was somewhere that had caused a lot of pain for Trip, but Darwin, Shran and Archer each had their own reasons to be pleased to see its demise. One other person who wouldn’t be seeing the destruction of the base was Colonel Andros, who had been moved to Enterprise’s brig. Archer had insisted on that despite Phlox’s protestations, but even severely injured he was betting that Andros was still dangerous. Phlox had given in to Archer’s reasoning and installed enough monitoring equipment in the brig that he could keep an eye on his patient. A light breeze swept across the grass of the plain in front of them, and a bright sun shone down from a clear sky. A cordon had been set up around the building that was far enough away that when the building was demolished no one risked injury from debris. A small area had been set aside for dignitaries and that included Premier Dvortshangharichantor, himself, Shran and Trip. Jerry and Amy joined them just as Trip was being positioned for a good view of the proceedings. Archer watched as Trip buried the fact that he was hurting and still very ill, he smiled warmly at everyone he greeted, as if he hadn’t just started his recovery from a deadly virus. Archer knew that hiding himself was something that Trip was very good at but he’d never seen quite such a blatant example of it before today. Jerry and Amy were pleased to see Trip and Amy wrapped her arms around him in unreserved pleasure at his presence. “You are looking much better,” said Amy, politely ignoring the fact that Trip’s skin was still rather yellow. “Thanks,” said Trip. “I’d be worried if I looked worse.” Amy smiled at him and was about to say something else when they were interrupted. Suddenly there was shouting from behind them and Archer turned around to see a Klingon pushing his way through the crowd. Corporal Jensen was following him and Lieutenant Reed brought up the rear. Neither of the two humans seemed to be having much luck stopping him. Gaht wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near here at the moment. Shran was looking at the Klingon somewhat suspiciously, his hand hovering near his weapon’s holster, but so far seemed to be only looking. Gaht came to a halt in front of Trip. “Still alive, Charles of the House of Tucker?” said Gaht, a smile spreading across his face. “Yeah, still alive,” Trip grinned back in return. Gaht gave Trip a hearty pat on the back which sparked a coughing fit. Phlox was at his side in seconds, looking concerned. Trip waved him off. “I’m fine, really,” he got out as the coughing fit subsided. “My apologies. I’d forgotten that the illness had weakened you. I’m sure your strength will return however.” Archer nearly had his own fit at Gaht’s apology, but it seemed genuine. “Yeah, I’ll be up and about again in no time,” said Trip. “Well, I would suggest resting for a few more days before attempting anything other than gentle exercise,” said Phlox. “Right, Doc,” said Trip. “Don’t worry, I’m not planning on doing any marathons just yet.” “I was more worried that you would be heading straight for Engineering,” said Phlox. Trip gave a shrug. “Hess seems to think everything’s fine down there. I’ll give it a couple of days before I get the full story.” “Trip, are you sure you’re okay?” asked Archer. “Normally you’re desperate to get back to Engineering after a stay in sickbay.” “I guess I’m just feeling my own mortality a bit, and to be honest, I can’t remember the last time I felt this bad.” “Do you want to head back to the ship?” Archer noticed that Trip was now looking paler than he had when he’d first left the shuttlepod, and he was beginning to wonder if this had been a mistake. Perhaps he should have listened to Kanatova and ordered Trip to stay put. Trip shook his head. “I want to see this. A lot of people died because of this base.” “Many more could have been killed without your intervention,” said Gaht. “I didn’t do anything special,” said Trip, looking out across the grass plain between them and the MACO base. “What are your plans, Commander Gaht?” Gaht frowned. “Everyone on Quo’nos thinks that I’m dead. If I go home now then it will be as a dishonoured prisoner. I’ve asked your Captain if I can stay here. I have given him my word as a Klingon that I won’t leave the planet or give my government details of what was done here.” “We would of course welcome you as an honoured guest,” said Premier Dvortshangharichantor. “Now that we understand the political situation and cultural nature of the Klingon people we have no problem with a Klingon living amongst us.” “Don’t you have family back home? Aren’t they going to miss you?” asked Trip. “I have a wife and two sons on Quo’nos, but if I am dishonoured then they will be too. They are better off thinking that I am dead.” Trip raised his eyebrows at this, but said nothing. Archer agreed with Trip’s unspoken comment on Klingon society. The idea of honour above everything was not one that he could really understand or ever agree with. However, he was glad that Gaht had suggested a solution to the problem of what to do with him that he could completely endorse and actually thought would probably work. The Coriolans were prepared to welcome him, and Gaht seemed to be enthusiastic about remaining. “As the Premier has given his approval, I don’t have a problem with Gaht staying on Coriolis.” The Klingon clapped his hands together in what Archer assumed to be joy, but could equally have been anger since it was done with great ferocity. “Good, then it is all agreed. We should blow up this eyesore and we can all return to feasting and festivities.” “Indeed, Commander Gaht is correct,” said Jerry. “We have a full program of entertainment arranged.” “Then we shouldn’t waste any more time,” Archer opened his communicator. “Archer to Darwin. Are all personnel accounted for?” “Yes. All lists have been double checked and the building has been cleared, and before you ask, I made sure myself,” came Darwin’s reply through the communicator. “We’re ready. Just give us the word.” The MACOs had wired up the entire base and placed explosives ready to implode. It would be like taking down an old skyscraper and hopefully just as quick. “Very well, you have a go,” said Archer. Darwin and his small team of MACO demolitions experts could be seen just a little closer to the building than the main cordon. Darwin waved back at Archer in acknowledgement and then pressed a button on the control that he held. There was a tense moment as nothing happened and then there was the dull thud as the first wave of explosives triggered, followed by the second and third waves in perfect succession. A huge crashing sound began as the first bits of the building tumbled to the ground, and the rumbling continued as the rest of the building followed, a cloud of concrete dust erupting from where the foundations used to be. Behind them the Coriolans cheered and a choir burst into song. It was a beautiful lilting melody that reminded Archer of Celtic folk music but it also sounded very alien in the way the tune changed and twisted through the harmonies. Musical instruments joined the singers and it seemed as if everyone present was joining in as the tune grew; the effect was almost overwhelming. There was real emotion behind the song and the Coriolans sang with all their heart. Archer caught the occasional word and realised that this was a song about rebirth, a new day was beginning for Coriolis as they emerged from a period of bloodshed and uncertainty. He looked down at Trip and saw that he was smiling tiredly. “Do you want to stay for the feasting?” asked Archer, quietly crouching down beside his friend. “I might be able to twist Phlox’s arm.” Trip shook his head. “No, I saw what I came to see. It’s time to move on.” **** They took Trip back to Enterprise just as the party was getting started. Several of Enterprise’s officers were staying to participate in the festivities but Phlox and Reed had volunteered to return to Enterprise with Trip. Archer would have liked to be with his friend, but he had to be seen to be putting in an appearance at the feast or the Coriolans would probably be offended. Trip had said his goodbyes, to the Coriolans, Jerry and Amy in particular but also the entire Engineering team that he’d helped to train. It took a while to get through everyone, and then to properly say farwell to Gaht. Finally Darwin had come over to let him know that he’d be returning to Andoria with Shran, so he doubted that he’d be seeing Trip again for a while. It was a long way to Andoria and Enterprise never knew where it would be going next. “We never seem to get long enough to catch up,” said Darwin. “I was actually hoping that we could have shared some of Shran’s Andorian ale together this time, but I guess that’s out until Phlox has fixed your liver.” “I guess so, but next time we’re passing Andoria, you’re on. Besides, you never did tell me about the cat. I’d have said you were more of a dog person.” Darwin laughed. “Actually I wouldn’t have said I was an animal person at all. I had a fish once, and within a week it was floating upside down in the tank. Being a MACO isn’t exactly compatible with keeping pets.” “So how did Andros end up with a cat in the divorce if you didn’t have a pet?” “I left the kitchen window open one day when I was home between deployments. The next thing I know the most mangy, biggest cat that I have ever seen is sitting on the counter top eating the roast beef sandwich that I’ve just made for my lunch. I went nuts and threw him out, but he kept coming back. I used to call him Frankenstein, Frank for short, because he looked like he’d been sewn together out of a whole load of other cats. He had a sort of patchwork coat of tabby, ginger, black and white markings. I thought he was a stray but it turned out that he belonged to an old lady across the road. She’d gotten forgetful and he wasn’t getting regular meals anymore. Eventually he adopted us permanently. So you see Frankenstein was a bit like me, kind of grizzled at the edges and a bit of an opportunist. Plus cats are paranoid as hell. Have you ever watched one sleep? They always keep an ear open for trouble.” “Definitely your soul mate,” said Trip. “You could say that,” Darwin smiled. “He wasn’t big on attention, but he really liked roast beef.” “So what happened to Frank?” “He was an old cat. He died about a year after the divorce. One of the things that really pissed me off about Daria was that she hated that cat, but she had to have him. He got his own back though, scratched her furniture to pieces.” Darwin chuckled. “What’s going to happen to Colonel Andros?” “From what Phlox tells me, she’s never going to be able to return to full active service again. The brain injury has left her with a permanent weakness in her left side. Archer is keen on a court-martial but that means all this will have to come out, and I doubt they’ll be keen on that. I’m guessing she’ll get a disability discharge.” “That doesn’t seem fair,” said Trip. “It isn’t, but fair is a sunny day, Commander,” replied Darwin. “Special Projects officers don’t get Court-Martialled.” For some reason, the fact that Andros was pretty much going to get away with what she’d done, punched the last of his strength out of him. Trip felt completely wrung out, and he knew he didn’t look good, in fact he was feeling worse by the second. He was probably due another session of liver dialysis. Phlox had obviously noticed his worsening condition too. “I think we should get Commander Tucker back to sickbay,” said Phlox, gently. Trip just nodded, unable to really find the energy needed to form words. He raised a hand and gave Darwin the approximation of a salute. Darwin stood to attention and returned it, surprising Trip a little. The meaning was clear, Darwin was giving him a gesture of respect. He was telling Trip that he’d done a good job and he knew how much effort it had taken Trip to pay him the courtesy of a salute. Darwin was also well aware that there had only ever been one person that Trip had saluted. “Come on Commander, let’s get you home,” said Reed. “Safe journey, Colonel.” “You too, Lieutenant.” Darwin walked back towards Shran and the Coriolan dignitaries. Trip would have sworn that Darwin almost looked happy, which was pretty much unheard of as far as the Colonel was concerned. Trip was unbelievably glad when they loaded him back onto the shuttlepod and Reed took the controls to take them back to Enterprise. He allowed his eyes to fall shut and he started to doze as they lifted up out of the atmosphere and looked back down on the plains of Coriolis. The view was marred by a crater the size of the MACO base, but in Trip’s mind, he could only see a perfect landscape full of smiling Coriolans who now had a brighter future. **** Darwin joined Archer and Shran. His face had fallen as Trip had once again been lifted into the shuttlepod. “He is going to be okay,” said Archer, taking in Darwin’s slightly worried look at Trip’s sudden deterioration. “Yeah, but it might take a while,” said Darwin. “You know Trip, he always bounces back,” said Archer. “He shouldn’t have to,” said Darwin. “If I’d never recruited him into Special Projects he wouldn’t be in this mess.” “Finally something we agree on,” said Archer. “In my opinion all you pink skins should have stayed at home. It certainly would have made the universe less crowded and my job considerably easier,” said Shran. “If we’d stayed at home then you and the Vulcans would have been at war by now,” said Archer. “That might not have been such a bad thing,” Shran grumbled. “I should get back to my ship. I need to get back to Andoria before the Vela Kari sweep this whole business under the carpet.” “I think you may be too late there,” said Darwin. “I have to try,” said Shran. “For Prelev and Talerez and the hundreds of Andorians that died because of this virus.” “It could cost you your career,” said Darwin. “I have a few friends in the right places, and I’ll tread carefully. The Vela Kari will pay,” said Shran, looking back towards the festivities. “I’m more concerned about leaving a Klingon here on Coriolis. Can we trust him?” Archer turned, following Shran’s gaze. He could see Gaht carrying a small Coriolan child on his shoulders while playing with another group of Coriolan children. They were chasing around him and he was obviously enjoying being the centre of their games. The children didn’t seem to be bothered that their new playmate was an alien and seemed to be revelling in his fearsome appearance. “I think he’s going to be fine,” said Archer. “He swore to me on his honour that he wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened here. Klingons take honour very seriously. I think we’re okay.” “So you’re helping the government to cover this up,” said Darwin, a glint in his eye the only evidence that this last comment had been said knowingly, referring to the many conversations that they had had regarding Special Projects preference for secrecy. “The Captain Archer that I used to know would have wanted this incident thrown wide open. I believe you used to talk about accountability and how secret military organisations shouldn’t be allowed to operate.” “That was a very different situation,” said Archer. “Setting up Special Projects in the first place was the issue that I was talking about. Once the problem has been created, the only thing left is damage control. We’re never going to agree on this, Darwin, and I’m tired of arguing about the rights and wrongs of Special Projects.” Darwin almost smiled, but it never quite reached his lips. “I can live with agreeing to differ, but now you don’t hate me, perhaps you could live with using my first name. I’m Rob to my friends, I’d be honoured to include you in those. I can’t persuade Trip to call me anything other than Colonel, but for some reason he seems to be happy with that.” “It’s a term of affection as far as he’s concerned. Can you even call someone a friend if you don’t like what they stand for? In fact I’m not sure that I even like you. Rob.” Archer added the last syllable a little grudgingly. “Most of my friends don’t like me very much. Talk to Major Hathaway and she’ll give you an idea of what I’m talking about. I guess it’s like this, I don’t have many people that I’d call friends. I have people that owe me or I owe them. Friends are people that understand each other and are happy to share a drink, talk about old times. I think I understand you, Archer, and I hope that you understand me, even if you don’t always agree with what I do.” “Do you two want to get some private quarters?” asked Shran, teasingly. “I thought you hated each other.” “We may have come to an understanding,” said Archer. “But I’m not sorry that I got you kicked out of the MACOs and I won’t apologise for what I did.” “Best move of my career to date was leaving the MACOs,” said Darwin. “I like Andoria.” Archer just looked at Darwin in disbelief. “You like Andoria? It’s a hundred below most days!” “That’s a nice warm day as far as we’re concerned,” said Shran, a half smile on his lips. “I should be offended on behalf of my people by your tone.” “Not everyone is obsessed with beaches,” said Darwin. “So you’re saying that you don’t hold it against me and you want a truce?” asked Archer. “That would be a start,” said Darwin. Archer held out a hand for Darwin to shake and the MACO Colonel took it. Both men smiled as they shook hands briefly. “Don’t be offended if we don’t make it to Andoria any time soon though,” said Archer. “That goes for both of you.” “I’m sure our paths will cross again,” said Shran. “The Kumari is going to be on active duty.” Archer nodded. “I hope you have an uneventful journey back to Andoria.” Shran and Darwin both laughed at that. The ex-MACO Colonel positively grinned at Archer. “In this universe? I don’t think so.” ****Epilogue**** Enterprise broke orbit from Coriolis a few days after the feast to celebrate the decommissioning of the MACO base. The Coriolans had told them that they had a standing invitation to visit them whenever they were in the area. They set course for Vulcan, with the intention of dropping Captain Kanatova off at her position in the Interspecies Medical Exchange on Vulcan, even though she would now be several weeks late. The Vulcans didn’t seem worried by this and had been understanding of her explanation that she had family commitments and then difficulty getting transport. T’Pol had also put in a good word for her so that had probably helped. Trip was behaving strangely. At least Trip was behaving strangely for Trip. For anyone else it would have been considered normal behaviour, but Archer was still worried and apparently so were T’Pol, Reed and half the crew. T’Pol had asked him if he had ever seen Commander Tucker behaving in this manner before and to be honest he couldn’t think of an instance where Trip had actually voluntarily stayed in sickbay for the entire recommended period. Normally it was a battle of wills between the medical professional who was caring for him and the Engineer as to how early Trip was allowed to leave sickbay before his allotted recovery time was complete. Archer had seen Trip sneak out in a bed sheet, he had been so keen to get back to duty. Lieutenant Reed had even asked if they were sure that the virus hadn’t affected Trip’s brain, it was such an unusual turn of events. Archer suspected that Trip really did just feel ill and perhaps he needed the extra recovery time that Phlox wanted to give him. Everyone was happy to give Trip as long as he needed before he felt able to return to duty, or even leave sickbay for that matter. It’s just that they had become used to telling their Chief Engineer that he needed more recovery time, rather than wondering when he’d be back on duty. Very briefly a stray thought had crossed Archer’s mind that perhaps this had all been too much for Trip and mentally he’d never be willing to return to duty. If that was the case then Archer would never be able to forgive himself for allowing Trip to go on his “one last mission” for Special Projects, even knowing now that it might have cost him command of Enterprise. Trip was just too important to him to lose like this, sound in body but not in mind. However Archer didn’t really believe that it was possible that this last brush with death could have affected Trip so deeply. It certainly wasn’t the first time that Trip’s life had been on the line and he doubted it would be the last, but maybe that was the problem. Archer entered sickbay to see Trip reading a padd, once again hooked up to the dialysis machine. He was wearing light blue scrubs and propped up against a couple of pillows. Phlox had been slowly winding down the amount of time that Trip spent on dialysis, but it would continue for a while longer, until Trip’s liver could support itself completely autonomously. It reminded Archer of the simple fact that Trip had never been ill like this before and that perhaps they were all wrong to be judging him on previous examples of his behaviour when injured. The dialysis alone was uncomfortable, dull and time consuming. It certainly wasn’t something that Archer would have wanted to go through even when feeling well, but Trip still bore the scars just under his skin of the haemorrhagic nature of the virus, and was suffering continuing fatigue. Phlox had also mentioned various other medical problems that he was dealing with to do with Trip’s blood work. Archer could also see the healing marks on Trip’s arm from the knife cuts inflicted by Andros and her henchmen, which reminded him that Trip wasn’t just getting over one close call, but two. Archer didn’t really like to think just how close they had come to losing him. Archer approached Trip’s biobed. “Hey, Trip.” Trip looked up from his reading. “Hi there, Captain.” Archer could at least see that Trip was considerably less yellow now. The normal tone of his skin had very nearly returned. As Trip saw him approach, he put an arm behind his head and rested back on it against the pillow. “What are you reading?” “Malcolm brought me some comics. I’m currently on X-Men, but there’s Spider-man, Fantastic Four, Constantine and The Shadow here as well. Who’d have thought that Malcolm knew his comic books?” “Even Malcolm was a kid once upon a time,” said Archer, smiling. “I brought you the latest Engineering updates, but I guess you don’t need them.” Archer watched a look of distaste pass across Trip’s face, which was something that he never thought he’d see associated with his beloved Engineering. “T’Pol, Malcolm and Hess already brought them,” he said, indicating the untouched pile of padds on his bedside table. “At least Malcolm seemed to know that I wouldn’t be interested. You all seem pretty enthusiastic to get me back to work.” “We’re just used to you being the one who’s desperate to get back there,” said Archer. “If you want to take your time then that’s fine with us. I’m sure Phlox is glad to have a patient who’s happy to stay put for once.” Trip sighed. “I’m still not feeling great. I just need a bit more time, and then I can guarantee you’ll have good ole Trip Tucker back with avengeance.” Archer gave Trip an assessing look. “You don’t need to put on a show for us, Trip, and I don’t expect you to be better tomorrow. This was a close call, and mentally you need time to get used to the idea that you’re going to be okay. Read your comic books, watch movies, play computer games, forget about work, hell, sit and stare at the stars if you want to, just do whatever you need to do to feel like you’re back to full strength. That goes for mentally as well as physically. Engineering will still be waiting for you when you’re good and ready.” Trip gave Archer a small smile. “When did you get to be so smart?” “I’m the Captain, it’s part of the job description. I’ll tell everyone to lay off on the pep talks and Engineering data padds.” “Thanks, that would be appreciated. Like I said, I’ll be back. I just need a little bit of breathing space.” Archer nodded. “All you had to do was ask. Anyway, this was just a quick visit, I’ve got to get back to the bridge.” “That’s okay, I’m getting kind of tired anyway.” “I’ll come by and check on you again later.” “Thanks Captain.” “No problem, Trip.” Archer hoped the Trip’s recovery would continue more smoothly from here. **** Unfortunately for Trip his smooth recovery wasn’t to be. He woke up after yet another long nap to find his left eye was sore and his vision blurred. The right eye became sore a few hours later and sensitive to light. Phlox diagnosed iritis and gave him some eye drops, but they were going to take a while to work. Trip couldn’t help but feel sorry for himself. He’d lost count of the number of injuries that he had healing on his body and this latest complication was just too much. The virus was continuing to make his limbs and head ache even though he was now well and truly on the road to recovery. Being on the way to being well wasn’t the same as actually being back to full health however, as he was discovering first hand. He was just unable to feel particularly happy that he’d be out of sickbay soon or that he’d be able to get back to work. He just kept thinking back to the struggle with Andros for the vial and being stuck in the cell prior to that. It seemed to replay in his head whenever he had a spare moment to think. He knew that he was being irritable and he was thinking about nominating Phlox for sainthood. The doctor had borne the brunt of his bad mood and rather morose behaviour. He had told Trip that depression and bad temper were natural after such traumatic events as he’d just experienced, and even gone as far as to suggest Post Traumatic Stress was to blame, but Trip was unwilling to place blame anywhere other than himself. He should be responsible for his own feelings and reactions, but he had to admit that he was having trouble snapping himself out of this depression that he’d fallen into. When Reed came by sickbay after his shift Trip just wasn’t in the mood for the game of chess that they tried to play. He could barely see the board, the inflammation was causing havoc with his ability to focus, and it was distracting to have to ask what the pieces were when he played his move. Normally Trip could give Reed a good game, although Reed was definitely the better player. Today the Lieutenant won their first game easily, and Trip was thoroughly pissed off by his comprehensive defeat. The second game seemed to go better until Trip realised that his opponent was deliberately leaving opportunities open for him. “Malcolm, stop letting me win,” said Trip. “You’ve never played this badly in your entire life.” Reed stopped half way to making his next. “Sorry, my intentions were honourable, but obviously they rather missed the mark. You are at a substantial handicap.” “Not being able to see the board isn’t the problem,” said Trip. “My mind just isn’t on the game.” “Still down on Coriolis?” asked Reed. “Yeah, I guess so.” Reed gave him a look that Trip couldn’t interpret and sat back from the board, folding his arms across his chest in classic Reed contemplation pose. “Do you remember Terra Nova?” “Of course. You were wounded and held hostage by the colonists.” Trip realised why Malcolm had hesitated before broaching this subject, it was one that he found difficult to discuss. “I had nightmares about that for weeks afterwards, flashbacks, the whole thing. I’m an Armoury Officer, trained to handle difficult situations and their aftermath. You can imagine how I felt about what happened. In fact, I’d probably even been in worse situations and I’m still not sure why Terra Nova was the one that gave me problems.” “I think I’d probably have nightmares after being held captive in those tunnels. I don’t see what that has got to do with me. Like you said, I’ve been through a lot worse and I knew that Enterprise was on its way.” “But you didn’t know that we’d get the cure for the virus in time and even though you could be rational about it, we - humans I mean - have a strong instinct for survival. If our life is threatened, we react; we have to in order to continue to exist. It’s the basic fight or flight response and when we can’t do either our brain does strange things to us to compensate.” “I know all this, Malcolm. I’ve done the same courses that you did. I don’t have PTSD.” Trip realised that he was sounding a little defensive but he knew that he was right. Reed unfolded his arms and hunched forward over the chess board. “Trip, I’m pretty certain that you’ve had some definition of PTSD for the last ten years, in fact ever since your first mission with Special Projects. I know that you’ve been having nightmares on and off for all that time. I’m also certain that this last brush with death is going to bring a lot of things to the surface that you thought you’d got buried. I’m saying this one soldier to another, and don’t tell me that you’re not a soldier, because you definitely were at one point no matter what you want to think. Get some help. You need to talk this out. It’s the only way you’ll ever really put Special Projects behind you.” Trip just gaped at Reed for a moment, before he framed a question. “Why is it that suddenly everyone knows how I should run my life? You’re not the first one to tell me that I need to get this off my chest, but who am I supposed to talk to? Everything is still classified.” “That is up to you. If I thought you’d tell me anything then I’d offer to listen. We are supposed to be friends.” “We are friends,” said Trip. “You just don’t know how hard it is to actually talk about this stuff.” “I have some idea. I suppose you think that I’ve never done anything questionable in my life. I can assure you that I have.” For a moment Trip caught something dark behind Reed’s eyes but it vanished before he could analyse what it meant. He wondered if perhaps Reed might actually be the only person on Enterprise who could understand what he was struggling with. Trip looked up at Reed earnestly. “You know what shell shock is?” “Of course. It was also called battle fatigue and later was diagnosed as PTSD. Soldiers in World War One with shell shock were described as having seen too much action.” Trip nodded. “That’s what I feel like. I’ve seen too much action. I’m an engineer, Malcolm. I never signed up to kill people or go on secret missions. I joined Special Projects because I wanted to see the universe and protect Earth, not murder aliens. I know that sounds naïve but I was a lot younger then.” “You’ve had enough death and destruction. That’s understandable,” said Reed. “It’s just that Coriolis was pretty damn near perfect until Colonel Andros turned up on their doorstep. I contributed to contaminating those people’s culture, and I nearly lost my life doing it. I just can’t go back to Engineering like nothing happened.” “You’re not responsible for something that some madwoman decided to do because she couldn’t stand Klingons.” “I know that. I do, but it still feels like some of the blame belongs at my door. A lot of Andorians died.” “The Andorians who died of the virus were most certainly nothing to do with you. It was a combination of bad luck and Andros’ bad planning. Not to mention that the Klingons really did have some sort of biological research base on that moon. Gaht confirmed it.” Trip’s eyes widened at that piece of information. “That changes things a little, but doesn’t excuse anything that was done here.” “Trip, repeat after me, “this was not my fault”.” “This was not my fault,” parotted Trip. “Now say it like you mean it,” said Reed, not at all fooled. “This was not my fault,” said Trip a little more convincingly. He paused and then looked Reed directly in the eye. “I really am going to be okay, Malcolm. Like I told the Captain, I just need a little time.” “Good, now, perhaps we should start this game again.” Reed knocked his king over, indicating that he had conceded the game. “I certainly won’t be giving you any further easy opportunities.” “I don’t think I’ll need any more opportunities,” said Trip. “I’m pretty sure that I’ve got a new strategy worked out.” He just needed a little time to work out the best way forward. He couldn’t tell Reed that what was bothering him most wasn’t how close he’d come to death, it was how close he’d come to getting all his friends killed, all because he couldn’t deal with Andros on his own. **** T’Pol stepped into sickbay to find Trip sitting up in bed with red, inflamed eyes. Lieutenant Reed had suggested that she should visit the Commander as he was in need of a boost to his spirits and that he might want to talk about his recent ordeal. The lights were turned down low so that they didn’t hurt his sensitive eyes and he sighed as T’Pol approached. “Good evening, Commander,” said T’Pol. Trip turned towards her sharply, seemingly unaware of her presence until she had spoken. He squinted at her. “Hi T’Pol,” he said, not sounding particularly happy. She had spoken not only to Lieutenant Reed, but also to Captain Archer, about Trip’s general mood and she was aware that he was currently experiencing some mild depression, but she had been unprepared for this. “How are you feeling?” “I’ve got some sort of eye inflammation. Phlox is calling it iritis. Apparently it’s a common secondary complication of some types of virus. It should resolve itself in a couple of days.” “The doctor mentioned that you were having difficulties with light sensitivity. I retrieved these from your quarters.” T’Pol produced a pair of sunglasses from behind her back. Trip squinted at them again. “Sunglasses?” he asked, accepting them from T’Pol. “Yes, they should make your eyes more comfortable,” said T’Pol. Trip shrugged and put the sunglasses on. He relaxed slightly and obviously the glasses had helped. “Thanks, T’Pol. The really annoying thing is that I can’t see very well. I’m not sure if it’s the eye drops that Phlox keeps putting in my eyes or the inflammation, but everything is a bit blurry.” “I thought this might be the case,” said T’Pol, matter-of-factly. She produced a padd with headphones from the other hand that had been behind her back. “I asked the Captain to put some spoken word books and music on this padd. I thought that you might require something to pass the time.” Trip smiled for the first time since T’Pol had entered sickbay. “You’re full of surprises today. This is great. At least I won’t be bored anymore.” “That was my intention. I hope that the Captain has made interesting selections for you.” “He knows me pretty well. I’m sure he’s put some good stuff on here.” He raised a hand to rub at his eye, raising the sunglasses a little to facilitate this, but T’Pol gently reached out and stopped him. “You should not rub your eyes,” said T’Pol. “They hurt and itch at the same time. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible,” complained Trip, a little chagrined by T’Pol’s intervention. “I just rub at them without thinking, and then Phlox tells me off.” “Perhaps I should stay to ensure that you don’t make your condition worse involuntarily.” “Don’t you have to go on duty or something?” asked Trip. It wasn’t exactly the reaction that she had expected to her suggestion, but it was true that normally when she visited Trip, she was on her way to her duty shift or had work to return to. “I have just finished my shift,” said T’Pol. “We could share dinner together if you wish.” Trip smiled now. “You almost sound as if you’re looking for an excuse to hang out with me. If you want to spend some time with me, you just have to say it.” T’Pol shifted her stance uncomfortably. “I was assuming that you might like some company or perhaps someone to talk to. If that is not the case then I will not stay.” Trip groaned in an exasperated fashion. “What I’m trying to say, T’Pol, is that I’d love to have dinner with you, even if it is in sickbay.” T’Pol decided that nothing more needed to be said. She went to the com point and contacted the messhall, asking them to send her a dinner tray to sickbay at the same time that Commander Tucker’s food was sent. She pulled up a chair beside Trip’s bed. “What would you like to discuss while we are waiting?” she asked. “Why don’t you tell me about the ship’s gossip? I know you listen even if you don’t pass it on.” T’Pol inclined her head. “That is true, however gossip is not a productive activity.” “Come on, T’Pol, humour me. I’ve been out of action for days and I’d like to know what’s happened while I’ve been gone.” “Very well, however this is against my better judgement.” T’Pol took a deep breath and began. She related to Trip every rumour that was circulating around Enterprise about who was possibly seeing who, who had been bawled out by Lieutenant Reed for conduct unbecoming an officer and who had been put on plasma exhaust cleaning by Lieutenant Hess. It took some time to get through everything that was being talked about and they continued over dinner as Trip seemed to get more enthused about talking about Engineering. At some point the conversation turned towards a discussion of theoretical improvements to the warp engine and in the end Phlox had to come over and break up the discussion, stating that Trip needed his rest. T’Pol left sickbay rather reluctantly, and she could tell that Trip was equally dismayed, but Phlox was correct that he still needed substantial rest periods. She returned to her quarters and made sure that her schedule was clear for the following evening. She was sure that her presence had improved Trip’s mood and therefore would help his recovery. If that was the case, then it was her duty to return for another visit. She owed it to Enterprise’s crew to make sure that their Chief Engineer was on duty again as soon as possible. It had nothing to do with her enjoyment of his company, or at least that was what she told herself. **** Archer pressed the bell beside the door of Trip’s quarters and heard a muffled invitation to enter from within. He found Trip wearing casual clothes, sitting at his desk, a large pile of padds at his left side and a smaller pile of padds at his right hand side. Archer watched as he picked up a padd, from the left side, checked its contents and transferred it to the right. “Hi Captain, have a seat,” said Trip, getting up to clear yet more padds off the single armchair in the room. “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?” asked Archer, taking the offered seat. “Phlox may have said something about that,” said Trip, adding the padds that he’d just cleared from the chair to the clutter on the desk. “I’m just reading a few padds.” “So your eyes are feeling better and I’ll be pulling you out of Engineering by the end of the week,” said Archer, knowingly. This was the pattern. The familiar way that things went with Trip when he was recovering from injury and it felt good to be on well known ground. “Actually, Phlox and I talked about it and we agreed I could do a few hours tomorrow, just to start getting back into things. As long as I remember to report for dialysis and I’m feeling okay, he’s happy for me to go back whenever I feel ready.” “That’s great. Although I’m rather amazed that it’s all so amicable.” “He knows what he’s doing and although I reckon mentally I’m ready to get back, my body’s still a few days behind. A few hours is a reasonable compromise and it’s not like I could do more even if I wanted to. I’ve still got two hours of dialysis everyday for another week.” “I can undertstand that, but I was sort of expecting you to demand to be allowed to get back to full shifts as soon as Phlox let you out of sickbay.” “For once I don’t feel like pushing it.” “This has nothing to do with T’Pol spending all her free time in sickbay for the last few days,” said Archer. “I’m beginning to wonder if you’re just playing the sympathy card.” “All T’Pol and I did was chat. Although it was kind of nice.” “I’m sure it was,” grinned Archer, in good natured teasing. Trip narrowed his eyes. “You’re evil. You know that, right?” Archer laughed. “It’s official, I’m no longer worried about you.” Trip’s face fell. “Maybe you should be. Kanatova always used to tell me, “the less you know, the more soundly you sleep”. I know quite a lot of things that I’d prefer not to.” “So I have to live with a cranky Chief Engineer who can’t sleep and spends all of his time in Engineering. There are worse things. That’s how you deal with it, when it gets bad, isn’t it?” Trip gave Archer a sad smile. “Haven’t you ever wondered why I’m such a chronic workaholic?” “I’d never really thought about it until the Xindi attack. It was just something that you did.” “Well now you know just how screwed up I am.” “I think we’re all a bit screwed up after everything that we’ve seen out here. At least you’re being honest about it. But you’re looking at Coriolis like it was a personal failure on your part. If you hadn’t been there, we never would have found that base or stopped Andros. You did good, Trip.” “Malcolm said that too, but it just doesn’t feel that way.” “Give it some time, eventually you’ll be able to see it.” “Yeah, maybe,” said Trip. **** Several months after the Coriolis incident, Trip was checking his mail before going out to meet T’Pol for dinner in the mess hall. He had received a video letter from Tjearigeshearithen, which wasn’t unusual as the two engineers regularly corresponded. Jerry appreciated Trip continuing to keep him up to date on the latest warp theory research, despite the fact that he’d never be able to build the engine. “Trip, my good friend,” Jerry greeted, his smiling face looking out from the screen. “I wanted to begin this letter by making you aware of some good news. As you know, Amy was expecting our first child and she has given birth to our daughter today. I must return to be with her soon so this letter is shorter than usual, but I wanted to let you know that we have decided to name her Triptalithaprilla in honour of you. Given your preference for shortening our names, we thought it appropriate. In Coriolan it means “star that points the way to the heavens”. I will send pictures of her as soon as I have them. If Enterprise is in the area then we would be honoured to have you attend the naming ceremony. If you hadn’t saved our lives that day all those months ago, then Triptalithaprilla would never have been born. Anyway, my apologies for imposing upon you with news of my family, I had questions regarding the last document that you sent to me.” Jerry continued on with his questions about the warp drive, but Trip wasn’t really listening. For once he was revelling in the glow that helping to bring a new life into the world brought. Maybe Archer was right and he really could say that he’d done something good. The fact that they’d chosen to name her after him was just the icing on the cake, although he wondered if Triptalithaprilla would be so happy when she grew up to discover that she’d been named after an alien engineer. For the moment though, he couldn’t stop smiling. **** The End ****

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