The Miles That Lay Ahead - Chapter 3

b>The Miles That Lay Ahead

by Gabi

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst
Rating: PG-13 (one or two chapters will be rated R later on)

Disclaimer: I guess I own the aliens in this story, the friendly as well as the unfriendly ones, but unfortunately none of the Enterprise staff.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

The Captain sighed inwardly when he saw Trip sitting at the window. Observation Deck was only dimly lit, so that Jon only recognized by the wheelchair that it was Trip staring out the window at the stars passing by. For a moment, Jon stood in the doorway, silently watching his friend. Since his break-down two days ago Trip had recovered his strength, but his hopes that he might regain the ability to move his legs had been disappointed. Trip avoided the crew, staying in his quarters most of the time, and he didn't even turn up for dinner in the Captain's mess, having his meals brought to him by a steward. Jon found this depressive mood to be quite worrisome. The way Trip sat there with his shoulders slumping, misery seemed to exude from his every pore, and Jon was certain that despite his intense staring he wasn't taking in any of the endless space that was passing by outside the window. Phlox had told him that it was perfectly normal for Trip to be dispirited after the relapse, but in Jon's opinion it was time to face the facts. Even when his condition had been life-threatening, Trip hadn't acted like this. Even when he'd been lying on a bio bed, unable to move a muscle, he'd found it in him to joke about his situation. Jon didn't understand why a simple relapse would affect Trip so much. Looking at his friend, it seemed to him that there was a dark cloud hanging over Trip's head.

He pulled up a chair and sat beside his friend. "Hey Trip, I've been looking for you."

"Seems like you found me," Trip said in a low voice, not looking at his friend.

Jon studied the chief engineer. "Phlox told me you’re fit for duty," he began carefully.

"Right." Trip snorted, but he was still staring into the darkness outside. "Light duties. Two hours in the mornin' and two in the afternoon. Rest in between."

"It'll do you good."

Trip grimaced. "Why can't y'all just stop mollycoddlin’ me? Ever since I relapsed everybody except T'Pol's treatin’ me as if I was fragile or somethin’. And at the same time you're actin’ as if nothin’s happened. I have to say that in the meantime, I almost prefer the Vulcan way. It's honest, if nothin’ else."

Jon gave no response, but watched Trip staring out the window until his friend finally turned around. "What's wrong, Trip?" he asked then.

"What's wrong?" Trip gave him an incredulous look. "That's kind of a stupid thing to ask, isn't it?" He lowered his gaze. "Sorry Cap'n."

"No problem, Trip, we're not on duty. Right now, we're just two friends who can speak what's on their minds." Jon paused, but when Trip didn't react he continued. "I'm sorry, Trip, but I don't get you." He sighed. "I mean, of course I understand why you're frustrated about the relapse. But don't take it out on the crew. Nobody's treating you as if you weren't valuable to Enterprise anymore, that's only in your imagination. We're simply worried, because you're not behaving like the Trip Tucker we know. Even T'Pol is concerned."

"T'Pol?"

"Yes, Trip. You should know by now that she as well cares about you. Didn't you say yourself that without her help, you would have suffocated long before I got the cure to sickbay? But she doesn't know what to make of your behavior, either. Honestly, Trip, there's no reason to let it get you down so very much. No one was expecting such a fast recovery. And if you're honest with yourself, Trip, you didn't either. Dammit, two weeks ago you were lying in sickbay, unable even to move your head, you couldn't even breath on your own. But even then I could see your will to fight. What has happened to it? Even when you thought you were going to die you weren't as... depressed as you are now. Is it only because of the relapse? Don't you see that you've come a long way in a short time? Phlox said from the beginning that it would take a long time until your recovery's completed. This relapse might be sort of a blow for you, but it's no reason to let yourself go like this."

"You're probably right," Trip said and turned back to the window. Jon was silent. Such a simple agreement he hadn't expected. How was he supposed to help Trip if his friend wasn't talking to him?

"It's okay, Jon," Trip said into the silence. "Just... leave me alone."

Studying his friends face, Jon realized that his lecture hadn't been what his friend had needed to hear. Trip wasn't only depressed about the relapse, there was more to it. He was afraid. Jon put a hand on Trip's arm. "No, I won't leave you alone for you to go on brooding like this. Tell me what's wrong. It's not that you'll have to wait a little longer until you can walk again, is it?"

Trip didn't look at him, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Talk to me, Trip! What's on your mind? What is it you're afraid of?"

"Afraid?"

"Yes, afraid. Don't tell me you aren't, I know you well enough to see it."

Trip looked down, studying his hands.

"I'm not leaving before you haven't told me." Jon waited patiently, until finally his friend took a deep breath and turned to look at him.

"Where will it take me from here, Jon?" Trip asked in a flat voice. "What will happen when I take up my exercises again? My work? Will I relapse every time I put a little strain on myself? I mean, two lengths at the parallel bars and one staircase are not exactly what I'd call exertin'."

"In your current condition it is."

"That's my point, Jon. Will that condition ever change again? Ever since I'm able to move again, I'm tired all the time. No matter how much sleep I get, I'm tired. It's gotten even worse since the relapse. Sometimes I'm so exhausted that I almost can't keep my eyes open. Sometimes I don't know where to take the energy from that I need to work through my shifts in Engineerin'. I tried to ignore it, but it won't work. That's not normal, Jon. And it doesn't feel as if it's gettin’ better. And I'm wonderin’ if it's gonna stay that way. The aliens might have been right about the cure restorin' my full ability to move, but will it stay? They didn't say anythin' about my strength. What if I relapse every time I try to put a little strain on my body? What if I keep breakin’ down at work? Will I always have to keep that wheelchair nearby because my legs can't carry my weight? Will I be weak and useless like this for the rest of my life? How d’you think Starfleet's gonna react? Can you tell me that, Cap'n?"

"I think you're exaggerating things a little, Trip."

"Oh, am I? Can you prove me wrong? Did the aliens say anythin’ about these things? As far as I know they were only talkin’ about my ability to move. Okay, the paralysis receded. I don't doubt it that it'll be gone sooner or later. But who says it's not goin' to come back? That it'll be there, dormant maybe but there? You know as well as I do that the aliens didn't have time to test the antidote. They knew almost nothin’ about our physiology. The poison itself didn't work as it was supposed to, remember? It should have an immediate paralyzin' effect on my whole body without affectin' my respiration. And what happened? Only my legs were paralyzed, and then, almost two weeks later, it began to spread to the rest of my body. And it did affect my respiration. Maybe the cure won't work the way they said it would, either."

"Don't you think it's a little early to be considering things like that?"

Trip swallowed. "It's kinda funny, Jon, you know... at that time..." Trip chuckled, but it wasn't a happy sound. "Do you realize that it's not yet four weeks ago that we were on that moon? Seems like forever to me. What I wanted to say, at that time, I hated the wheelchair, especially when it looked like I was goin’ to be usin’ it for the rest of my life. At the time, when I couldn't move at all anymore, I would've been happy if I had been able to use it, and when I was hooked up to the respirator, the only thing I wanted was bein’ able to breath on my own and talk to you. It always depends on which situation you're in. Sure, now I'm much better off than two weeks ago, and I know I should be grateful, but I was convinced that I was gonna make a full recovery. I was sure I was not only gonna get back my ability to move but also my strength. But right now I have to force every single movement. My muscles seem sluggish, clumsy. Everythin' feels different. That can't be normal, can it?"

"I don't know, Trip," Jon said. "But still I don't think your condition's permanent."

"Maybe not. But maybe it is. You're right, I'm afraid. I can't do anythin’ about it. What use is an engineer who suffers a relapse every time he takes on a little work? Whose legs can't carry his weight? Who's maybe not strictly wheelchair-bound, but who will always need it somewhere nearby? Someone like that has no place on a starship, Jon. And back on Earth they also have better people."

"Stop it, Trip! You only get yourself down thinking about stuff like that. You simply suffered a relapse. Phlox told me that's nothing unusual. And considering that all of this happened only a few weeks ago, your paralysis isn't that long ago, your exhaustion is understandable. Your body's recuperating slowly and you need to give it time and see what's going to happen." Archer tried to give his face an encouraging expression but knew that Trip saw right through him. Jon was deeply worried, for Trip was right. The aliens hadn't said anything about Trip getting back to his old strength or not. Nobody knew whether he would be dependent on the wheelchair for the rest of his life or not. They had never considered that possibility before, but now it had crossed not only Trip's mind. Jon pictured his friend moving slowly, carefully putting one foot in front of the other and avoiding any kind of exertion to spare himself further relapses. And all of a sudden he knew why Trip was staring out the window with such a discouraged expression on his face.

-###-

Malcolm was also worried about his friend these days. Trip had regained some of his strength, but he seemed to have lost his confidence. When doing his exercises, he let Malcolm do the work and contributed as little as possible, and the parallel bars he didn't even look at. The thing that Malcolm found to be the most worrisome, though, was the fact that Trip didn't even try to go around Phlox' orders and stay longer in Engineering. He worked his two hours in the morning and the afternoon and spent the rest of the day holed up in his quarters which he left only if Malcolm was being persistent enough, bugging the engineer to come with him to the gym or mess hall. Malcolm didn't quite know how to deal with this changed Trip. Teasing him wouldn't work anymore. Most of the times Trip didn't even notice when Malcolm tried to pull his legs, or he didn't react at all. Even the glint in his eyes had disappeared, they seemed dull and lifeless. Malcolm was sure that Trip was afraid of another relapse. A relapse that would probably throw him back even further this time. Malcolm could understand him very well. This recent event had shocked Trip and, in a quite merciless way, had shown him that he hadn't come as far yet as he'd thought. But like Jon he didn't understand why Trip, who'd been so optimistic facing the worst, would let something like this get him down so much. It wasn't Trip's way.

Malcolm didn't dare to talk to Trip about it, though. He didn't know how Trip would react, being in the mood he currently was in. But he knew that letting himself go in such a way wasn't doing Trip any good. He needed something to occupy himself, something to concentrate on. Some time ago, when Phlox had told Trip that there was nothing he could do about the paralysis of his legs, the engineer hadn't had the time to indulge in broodings. They'd all been quite busy trying to protect Enterprise from the attack of those aliens. That was it. Trip needed something to do. He had too much time on his hands to spend on pondering on his situation. His crew in Engineering was getting along quite well without him. Malcolm suspected that yet again, Trip was feeling useless, like he had when he'd thought that the crew didn't think him a valuable crewmember anymore because of his paralyzed legs. Was that the reason why he was avoiding his friends? Malcolm sighed. And people were telling him he was complicated. Was there anything he could do to divert Trip from his dark thoughts, to make him feel useful again? Blowing up Engineering came to his mind, but even though it was a tempting thought, Malcolm realized it might be little over the top.

-###-

"ETA to the nebula two minutes, Sir," Travis announced from the helm.

"Go back to impulse, ensign," Archer said, then got up to get a better view of the phenomenon that had shown up on the long range scanners two days ago. A wide-spread, seemingly never-ending cloud was hanging in space before Enterprise, blocking her way. They never encountered something as huge as this before. Churning and fluorescing, it was quite a sight to see. While the bridge crew was still taking in the view, T'Pol was already bending down over her scanners to tell the captain the nebula's components.

Malcolm half-listened to her reciting the different gases, his thoughts still with Trip. Under normal circumstances he would be here on the bridge with them to see the nebula, but at the moment he didn't seem to be interested. Malcolm sighed, returning his attention to T'Pol and her scanning results. This was not the time to allow his thoughts to wander.

"I cannot clearly determine the exact diameter of the nebula since the scanners are being deflected," the Vulcan science officer announced. "The gases seem to solidify towards the center, although I cannot say for sure. The data is imprecise."

"Imprecise?" Archer raised his eyebrows.

"The readings are diffused. I cannot identify the exact values. The further I try to extend the scanning range into the nebula, the more inexact are the readings I get. Some of the data is inconsistent. The fringes of the nebula seem to be gaseous, but there appears some solid matter further toward the center. It might be simple spatial debris, or maybe the gases' solidification has this effect. The matter seems to be interspersed with gaseous canals. I apologize that I cannot give you any exact, Captain."

"What kind of canals? Could we pass through them?"

T'Pol checked her scanners. "Not with Enterprise. The narrowest canal I read is approximately eight mark three meters in diameter, the broadest thirteen mark eight."

"A shuttle might do the trick, if it's maneuvered carefully," Malcolm suggested. Archer turned around.

"Hold that thought, Lieutenant. First, launch a probe. I'd like to know a little more before we fly into an unknown nebula."

-###-

The probe confirmed of T'Pol's readings. The fringes of the nebula were gaseous, while the core seemed to consist of solid matter. However, before the probe had gone far enough to provide detailed readings about that core, it disappeared. T'Pol suggested that it might have crashed, or that the data transmission was being prevented by the nebula's interference. A second probe led to the same results.

Archer gave Malcolm a nod. "Prepare a pod, Lieutenant. You're going to accompany me. Let's go and take a closer look at this particular phenomenon."

"Are you sure this is wise, Captain?" T'Pol asked. "We do not know why the probes have disappeared."

"That's what I'm trying to find out, T'Pol." Archer got up from his chair. "Maybe we can figure out a way to widen these canals so we can pass through them with Enterprise. The way through the nebula is a lot shorter than around it. I think you will agree on that."

"It is shorter. However, I do not think there is a possibility of widening these canals."

"Well, we'll see." Archer gave the Vulcan a short nod. "I'll be in my ready room."

-###-

Archer was looking at the nebula on his desk screen when his door bell chimed. He called, and the door slid aside to let Malcolm in.

"The shuttle's ready, sir," the Lieutenant said.

"Thank you." Jon nodded. "Any idea how we could widen these canals enough for Enterprise to fit through them?"

"To know that we need to determine more precisely what kind of gases there are in that nebula. Photon radiation might do the trick, but we'll have to take more scans to know for sure." Malcolm took a deep breath. "Sir, I..." He trailed off.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Archer raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

"Sure, go on, Lieutenant."

"Sir, I've been wondering... is there any particular reason why you assigned me for this mission?"

Jon gave his tactical officer a slightly surprised look. Was Reed questioning his choice of team members? "What are you getting at?"

Malcolm was clearly feeling uncomfortable. "If it isn't absolutely necessary that I take part in the away mission, you might consider taking Trip along instead of me."

"Trip?"

"Indeed, captain. He needs something to do. Ever since his relapse he's done nothing but sitting around and brooding, getting stuck on the idea that we think he's useless. He needs something to occupy himself, or he will never get any better."

"I agree, Lieutenant. But do you really think it's a good idea to send him on an away mission? Something unexpected might happen."

"It's always a possibility, sir. But it seems that with the usual routine on Enterprise, Trip feels that he's not needed. He needs to be given a job that's not routine. Besides, he doesn't want people to make amendments to his condition. And I don't think that his not being able to walk will be a problem on this mission."

Jon gave the Lieutenant a thoughtful look. "Do you think he's up to it? Physically, I mean?"

"It doesn't sound like a particularly straining job, sir. But if you want me to, I can talk to Phlox about it."

"I'll do that, Malcolm. I got a better idea. I'll let Trip command the mission. I think you're more creative than I am when it comes to finding a way to widen these canals. "Jon smiled. "Especially when something like blowing up photons is involved. If it's alright with you to go on that mission together with Trip..." He trailed off.

"Of course, Captain. If Trip has something to concentrate on, he might find it in him to put his depression behind."

"I hope so. I'll talk to Phlox, and then I'll tell Trip about it."

-###-

Trip lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt drop dead tired, but he couldn't sleep, there were too many things keeping his mind occupied. Something was wrong. It couldn't be normal to be so tired all the time, could it? When had it started? After Phlox had injected him with the antidote, he hadn't noticed any of that strange exhaustion. But then, the first two days he hadn't yet been able to move, and had been lying in bed all the time. As soon as he had concentrated on his exercises, however, trying to get back on his feet a little sooner, the tiredness had set in, and now after the relapse it was worse than ever. He found that after a two-hours-shift in Engineering, he was glad when he was able to take a short or maybe not so short nap. He still enjoyed his work in Engineering, but after his shift, he was simply beat. It made him feel useless. His crew had been treating him with exaggerated care ever since his relapse. Crewmembers of lower ranks didn't come to him when they needed help, asking Hess instead. Trip realized that they were trying to make things easier for him, but he didn't want that kind of treatment. He wanted to know that he was needed, and at the moment, he certainly didn't feel that way. Truth be told, Trip felt useless in his own department, and that even worsened his depressed mood. Worst of all was the fact that he couldn't bring himself to change something about it. The only thing he would have to do was go back to exercising, participating in social life on Enterprise instead of sitting in his quarters all day and getting on everybody's nerves. Trip knew that, but he was just so tired. Small talk with his crewmates was the last thing he needed, especially because there seemed to be only one topic: his condition. And his condition was the last thing he wanted to talk about. He was ashamed because of his relapse; and knowing that it was an irrational feeling didn't change anything about that. His own impatience was the reason why his body had shut down. It was his own fault that he still needed that wheelchair.

The door chime interrupted his train of thoughts. Trip considered not answering, but whoever it was standing outside his quarters knew that he was in here.

"Come in," he said, and propped himself up on his elbows as he saw the Captain enter.

"You're taking a nap?" Jon asked.

"Doctor's orders."

"Well, not anymore." Jon sat down on the edge of the bed. "I got a job for you."

"A job?" Trip raised his eyebrows.

"Just an away mission with Malcolm."

"Away mission?" Trip shook his head. "You're not serious, are you?"

"Yes, I am. Phlox agreed to let you go. It's only a short trip with shuttlepod one." Jon handed Trip a padd. "The data about the nebula. Quite interesting. The thing we want to find out is whether there's a possibility to make these canals in the cloud passable for Enterprise."

"And you want to send Malcolm and me?"

"Why not? My two finest officers should manage, don't you think?"

Trip snorted. "Finest officers. Whose idea was that?"

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Cap'n. I can't have been your first choice."

"To be honest, first I wanted to go myself, but then I figured I could just as well save myself the trouble and assign you to the mission."

"You're not jumpin’ at the chance to explore a nebula? Sorry, but I'm not buyin’ that."

"That's enough, Commander." Jon's voice changed from friend to Captain. "I assigned you to the mission, and you're going on the mission. It's not open for debate. I want you to finally get out of that bed and do something."

"I'm so tired, Jon."

Archer bit his lip at the weary tone of Trip's voice. Maybe this was a mistake, after all. On the other hand, even Phlox agreed that Trip needed something to do.

"It'll get better as soon as you start doing something, Trip. You can't keep lying in bed all the time. Come on, this isn't like you. Now get up. You need any help?"

Trip shook his head. "That's alright, I'll manage."

"Well, then hurry. We'll meet you in launch bay one."

Trip sat up and pulled the wheelchair closer. Archer had already turned to go when the engineer called him back. "Cap'n?"

"What is it?"

"Malcolm an' me in shuttlepod one. You sure that's a good idea?"

Jon chuckled. That was more like Trip. "The best," he said, smiling.

-###-

Trip had taken a quick shower and when he arrived in launch bay one, he felt more or less awake. Jon looked up and gave him a smile. "You took your time, didn't you?"

"Cripples ain’t that fast," Trip answered and bit his lip when he saw Jon's expression change. Damn, he was whining like a little kid. He didn't really know why he was acting like this. Jon was right, this was not his usual way to behave. Time to shake off the moodiness and concentrate on his job. Trip straightened his shoulders a little and gave Jon a lopsided grin. "It's okay, Cap'n. Just tell me how to get into the pod."

Malcolm appeared in the shuttle's hatch. "With a little help from your friends, Commander. You can even choose your seat. Helm or scanner station?"

"You can take the helm, Malcolm. I'll enjoy the view."

"I guess I'll have to disappoint you." Jon slid his arms around Trip's upper body while Malcolm took the engineer's legs. "I want you to get me precise data about the nebula, and some results, plus a suggestion how to fit Enterprise through the canals." They hauled Trip into the shuttlepod and sat him into the seat at the scanner console.

"Wouldn't it be easier to just fly around the whole thing?" Trip asked, shifting a little until he was comfortable.

"It's quite a detour," Archer said. "That nebula's huge. We'd need six days at the least to go around it. And besides, we're explorers, aren't we? T'Pol's confused data's not enough for me. I'd like to have some detailed readings, and it looks like we're getting those only from the inside."

"Oh dear. That's what we said last time, and that mission was a complete disaster."

Jon patted Trip on the shoulder. "Well, try your best so it won't turn into one this time." He was already half out of the hatch when he turned around once more to look at the two officers. "Be careful, alright?"

TBC

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One person has made comments

no comments yet? i read this at school yesterday, only the keyboard wern't working so i couldnt write about it.

nice chapter, getting the story along well now :), a sweet icle mission with a sweet icle man, or 2.