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"Whether You Fall" Rating: PG
Author’s Note: This is going to be heart wrenching. There’s nothing for it, I suppose, but it’s been damn tough to write and it’s been sitting on my hard drive in pieces for going on two years now. I’m warning you up front, it’s going to take a while to finish. Maybe a long while. Nevertheless, the publication of The Good That Men Do has stirred my muse and encouraged me to finally take the first step. And so begins a new journey. “Whether you fall means nothing at all… it’s whether you get up… it’s whether you get up…” – Tracy Bonham Prologue
Twelve Hours Ago “Stiff upper lip, Malcolm. This’ll probably hurt like hell…” Lieutenant Malcolm Reed sat in the port jump seat, his cold-weather flight suit hanging open at his waist, grimacing against the sharp sting as his Captain applied spray antiseptic to the phase burns on his chest. Malcolm couldn’t decide which hurt worse… the burns themselves, or the humiliation he felt at having been shot in the first place. In the pilot seat nearby, Ensign Travis Mayweather maneuvered the craft on a mostly steady course out of the Martian atmosphere, en route to a rendezvous with the Enterprise, now orbiting high over the planet. The picture of concentration, Travis pushed the damaged pod as hard as he dared without undoing the repairs he and Commander Tucker had hastily completed a short time ago on the cold, dusty plains of Chryse Planitia, now far behind them. The craft’s tiny fusion reactor could be heard straining irritably through the hull plating, but it was holding… at least for the moment. I suppose it could be worse, Malcolm though wearily. At least the ride up is smoother than the way down. A little smoother at any rate… After a few moments, the Captain finally sat back in the starboard jump seat opposite Malcolm and appraised his handiwork. “Well, that’s the best I can do. There’s a lot dust in the wound, but there’s not much for it until we get back to the ship.” “It’s fine. Thank you, sir.” Doctor Phlox took a quick break from his work in the back of the pod to examine Archer’s first aid measures on the Tactical Officer with an experienced eye. “Martian sands are biologically sterile, Captain. There’s little risk of infection at this point. You’ve done quite well.” To Reed, he said pointedly, “You should try to rest, Lieutenant. You’ve got at least thirty minutes until we dock.” Malcolm frowned as he began carefully pulling his flight suit back on, taking care not to pull the fabric too tightly over his burns. He mostly succeeded… until the craft shuddered again suddenly. “Not bloody likely. Who can sleep with all this?” Travis turned back from the controls with a look of annoyance. “I’ve got one working thruster and there’s a sandstorm beneath us that’s churning up the atmosphere like a category five hurricane. You’re just gonna have to tough it out, sir.” Malcolm stifled a smirk. He hadn’t been referring to the turbulence, but he was too polite to say so. He turned toward the back of the pod, hoping to distract himself from another bout of space sickness by watching the Denobulan continue to scan the tiny infant whose shrill cries were filling the pod’s cramped cabin. Commander T’Pol cradled the child in her arms with an expression that, for a Vulcan, spoke volumes of her concern for its well-being. Sitting close beside her on the cabin’s aft bench, Commander Tucker glanced up from the child, his own anxiety obvious in his voice. “Doc, are you sure she’s okay? She’s been crying like this ever since we took off.” Phlox passed his small, handheld scanner over the child once more, then studied its display. “She continues to have a slight fever, Commander, and I’m concerned about her leukocyte count. However, I suspect she’s simply reacting to the discomfort in her ears. Infants often have difficulty adjusting to changes in air pressure.” He quickly reached into his medkit for a pair of small vials and a hypospray. Carefully measuring out a dose appropriate to a patient of such young age, he looked up at her parents and spoke in a reassuring voice. “This is a mixture of tri-ox and a mild analgesic. It should ease her symptoms.” Tucker turned to look at T’Pol, gauging her reaction. The petite Vulcan glanced back at him briefly, then nodded at the Doctor to proceed. Phlox gently pressed the device to the baby’s upper arm. It hissed softly... and then her shrieking tapered off a bit. Then Phlox reached into his bag a second time and pressed something smallish into T’Pol’s palm. “I think you’ll find that this may help as well.” T’Pol looked at the soft rubber object dubiously, but Tucker recognized it for what it was immediately. “You brought a pacifier?” “Of course. Always be prepared,” the Doctor beamed widely. The corner of Tucker’s mouth turned up slightly. Seeing T’Pol’s puzzlement, he took the object from her and deftly popped it into the infant’s mouth. The Vulcan appeared horrified for an instant at this action, but realized moments later that not only had the child stopped crying… it was now sucking on the object contentedly. “Thanks, Doc,” Trip said, relieved, eliciting an even larger grin from the Denobulan. The next few minutes passed in relative silence, much to the relief of the pod’s occupants. Phlox continued to busy himself with unintrusive scans of both the infant and its decidedly shell-shocked looking parents. As he sat watching them quietly nearby, the reality of the situation finally hit Malcolm square in the gut. They’ve got a bloody baby! Hoshi’ll go completely hatstand over this… Despite Malcolm’s suspicions that Trip and T’Pol had become… involved… in the weeks since his friend’s return from the Columbia, the idea that they might eventually have a child together hadn’t occurred to him in the slightest. It had sounded downright preposterous just a few days ago, when Phlox had first broken the news of this infant’s existence in Sickbay. Somehow, though, the idea didn’t seem so strange anymore. Though he probably wasn’t even aware of it, Malcolm saw that Trip had wrapped his good arm protectively around T’Pol’s shoulders and, despite the fact that it was a clear breech of Vulcan decorum, she seemed to be taking comfort from the gesture. Trip smiled down at the child in amazement. “I still can’t believe it. She’s got your eyes, T’Pol. And those are definitely her mother’s ears.” T’Pol looked up at him with more tenderness than Malcolm had thought possible from a Vulcan. “I believe she has your nose,” she said admitted softly. “She sure is beautiful.” T’Pol tilted her head toward Trip in agreement. Then, as if suddenly realizing that she’d forgotten something important, the Vulcan raised the bundle in her arms formally, affording it a better view of her companion. To the infant, she spoke calmly. “Kofu, I would like you to meet someone. This is your father. Charles Tucker the Third. Though most illogically, he prefers to be called Trip.” Trip’s eyes widened at the immensity of the moment, wavering back and forth between the child and its mother. Then they filled with tears, one of which spilled down his cheek. Trip wiped it away, beaming, and pulled T’Pol closer, resting his head against hers as they both gazed in wonder at their daughter. Malcolm glanced away, suddenly aware that he was intruding on an intensely personal, private moment. As he did so, he noticed that the Captain had been watching the touching scene as well. Archer too looked away, glancing down at the decking beneath his feet, struggling to stifle the smile that was breaking out on his face. Both men were saved from their self-conscious thoughts by the sound of an incoming hail. “Enterprise to Shuttlepod One.” Archer reached over Travis’ shoulder and thumbed the com. “Go ahead, Hoshi.” “Sir, Captain Hernandez just called for you. The Columbia’s been sent to assist in securing the Verteron Array and rounding up Paxton’s men. They’re entering orbit now.” Archer sighed in relief. “Tell Erika we appreciate the help. Her Tactical Officer can co-ordinate security operations with Major Kemper and his team on the surface. I’ll contact her directly after we dock. We should have a visual on the Enterprise in a few minutes.” “Aye sir.” Suddenly, Phlox appeared at Archer’s side. “Captain, if I may?” “Of course.” Phlox leaned closer to the com. “Hoshi, can you ask Crewman Cutler to sterilize and warm up the incubation unit in Sickbay?” Hoshi’s excitement was obvious. “You’re bringing the baby aboard? That’s great news! I’ll tell Liz right away. When can we see her?” “That will be at the discretion of her parents, Ensign. Shuttlepod out.” “Ohhhhhh, but--!” Whatever she’d been about to say was cut off as the channel closed. Malcolm couldn’t resist laughing at the Communication Officer’s reaction, and Archer and Travis quickly joined in. Malcolm turned back to Trip, “You’d better get ready. If I know Hoshi, she’ll have half the crew waiting with her to catch a glimpse of the baby the moment the Shuttle Bay repressurizes.” The sudden look of horror on Trip and T’Pol’s faces sent the others into another fit of laughter. The Captain was quick to reassure them. “Don’t worry. Phlox can take the three of you to Sickbay through Decon, while the rest of us run interference. Consider yourself both off-duty until further notice.” Trip started to reply, “Captain, I--” “Forget it, Trip. You’ve both been through hell. Take care of the baby… and yourselves. That’s an order.” Trip glanced at T’Pol briefly, then back up at Archer. “Actually Captain, I was just gonna say thanks. If you guys hadn’t shown up when you did, I don’t know what…” He lost his voice suddenly, unable to finish the thought. Realizing this, T’Pol spoke for him. “I wish to thank you as well, Captain. Your arrival was most timely… and appreciated.” Trip reached down gently and stroked his finger against the baby’s cheek, eliciting a babble of new sounds. T’Pol glanced down tenderly, clearly pleased at the child’s reaction to her father, and Archer too was suddenly struck full force by the reality of the sight before him. Here were two parents, his closest friends in the universe, and their infant child… perhaps not one of their own creation, but theirs nonetheless and no less loved for the terrible circumstances of her conception. He was looking at a family. That the level of connection between Trip and T’Pol ran deep was so obvious to Archer now that he wondered how he’d ever overlooked it before. They both glanced up at him then as one, and Archer suddenly felt compelled to voice a feeling he could not longer contain. “Things are likely to get awfully busy in the next few days,” he said softly. “But I want you to know how proud I am of you.” The Captain turned to include Phlox, Malcolm and Travis, who glanced back from the flight controls. “How proud I am of all of you.” Filled with warmth and a precious cargo, Shuttlepod One cleared the thin Martian atmosphere and soared into the inky blackness, headed towards home… and destiny. ---TBC--- |
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