Psyche and Sound- Chapter 13

Psyche and Sound

by Orion9

Disclaimer: Enterprise and all related characters belong to Paramount.

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Chapter Thirteen – Choices

“NO!” Malcolm bellowed, rushing forward. “Stop that! Let him go, you sick bast–” The rest of his angry words abruptly died in his throat as he staggered to a stop, gasping, his hands immediately flying to his neck. With growing desperation, he clawed at whatever that seemed to be choking off his airway – he couldn’t breathe, there didn’t seem to be enough air for him to do so. A strangled sound escaped him when his suddenly rubbery legs proceeded to fold from under him, and like a man caught in a nightmare that he absolutely had no control over, he felt his body slowly tilt forward.

“Sir!” Travis called out fearfully as both he and Chris Tanner rushed to Malcolm’s side, managing to catch the senior officer just before he hit the ground. By now, Travis was frantic with worry – Trip’s struggles were weakening fast and he could see that Malcolm was just moments from blacking out. He raise d his phase pistol and was about to fire – his intuition told him that it would be a futile attempt, he’d seen how powerful these people were but he knew that he had to at least give it a try – when an angry roar cut through the air, effectively freezing everyone in their tracks.

“What on Jerall’s Moon is going on here?!”

They all turned towards the source of the livid voice; Daevin and his followers’ faces turning pale at the sight of the four people striding up towards them, with Koerin in the lead, while relief coloured the expressions of the ones in Malcolm’s group.

“Daevin! What is the meaning of this?”

“Release them at once!”

To Malcolm, on his hands and knees, with spots dancing at the peripherals of his vision, both Healon’s outraged exclamation and Koerin’s furious command might as well be from another planet altogether. All that he was aware of was his hammering heart and the roaring thunder in his ears, the struggle to stay conscious taking precedence above everything else. Suddenly, the invisible cord that was fast tightening around his neck was gone and he collapsed onto the ground, coughing but being able to breathe again. Helped by two sets of hands – he realised belatedly that Travis and Chris were beside him – Malcolm sat up, one hand at his throat, and spent the next few minutes raggedly drawing in gulps of precious air.

“Malcolm?”

“I’m …fine, Sir.” Croaking in automatic response to the concerned query, Malcolm barely registered Archer’s brief presence or the firm, reassuring squeeze on his shoulder before the Captain was gone. He turned his head towards where the gurney lay – where Archer was currently crouched down beside – worry hitting him at the sight that met his blurry gaze.

Trip’s glazed blue eyes were like saucers, appearing entirely too big for his face, but there was a chillingly blank look in them, a fact that didn’t escape the man currently bent over him. The engineer’s hands were at his throat, and he was coughing uncontrollably. Archer winced at the slight wheezing sound in each laboured breath. Putting his hands gently on the trembling shoulders, Archer leaned closer, trying to calm the agitated man down. “Trip…”

He felt something clamp down onto his shoulders and flinched. He was caught! Whatever that was holding him was going to try to kill him again. He needed to get away. “No! G-Get offa me!” Trip hollered weakly, struggling ineffectively against the hands that were holding him down. “Lemme … g-go, d-dammit!”

“Trip! Calm down!” Archer gave the lost man a little shake and was relieved to see recognition seeping in, slowly replacing the raw fright in his wild eyed gaze. The rigid muscles beneath his hands relaxed as he felt the tension leaking out of the engineer’s body. “It’s okay… It’s okay…”

“C-Cap’n?” The choked, whispered response was so slight that Archer almost missed it. Trip blinked, confusion on his handsome face. He shook his head, trying to clear it. What happened? All he could remember was an alarming sensation of danger. His eyes widened. Danger! He had to warn the others before it was too late… He sat up in a rush but sank back, a groan escaping his parched lips when the pain skyrocketed and whole world grew dim on him once more. He pushed at the other’s hands weakly. “No, g-go ’way… run… n-not… s-safe…”

“Easy, Trip…” Archer said, one hand supporting the sick officer between his shoulder blades as he gently lowered the engineer back onto the gurney. “Easy… everything’s all right …”

“Allow me, Captain.”

With great reluctance, Archer moved aside, allowing Phlox take over his place beside the engineer. He was glad to hear the harsh wheezing sound die off as the administered drug quickly took hold. Trip’s breathing gradually evened out and he settled back into sleep – oblivious to the current tension twisting around him – a pale, still figure among the growing pandemonium.

* * * * *

After the initial, explosive uproar between mentors and their apprentices, the relative calm that followed seemed to be obnoxiously loud to Jonathan Archer. He stood nearby, a tall, silent ghost – his composed outer appearance belying the chaotic feelings that were within him – watching as Phlox continued with his scans. He knew, that for as long as he lived, he was never going to forget the sight that greeted him when he and T’Pol walked into the clearing that day after Koerin and Haelon. Two of his best men, one unconscious, the other close to it, were being slowly being asphyxiated while the rest of their team stood helplessly by.

Each crewman had had his phase pistol out and while only Travis’s gun was aimed directly at Daevin, Archer knew that it wouldn’t have made much of a difference if he, or any of the men, had fired. He sincerely doubted that the shot would’ve had been able to penetrate the immeasurable mental shield of the three J’ralls. All the same, Archer was proud of his men, especially of the Helm Officer. All of them had been poised to defend their fallen friends, regardless of the consequences to themselves.

They were the kind of officers that he was proud to have serving onboard the Enterprise, the ones who cared and looked out for another, not because they had to, but because it was what they wanted to do. After seeing to Trip and Malcolm, he’d patted the shaken young man on the shoulder, wordlessly conveying to Travis his approval, before moving away. A faint rustling sound to his right told him that he was no longer alone and he turned his head slightly to find Koerin by his side.

“How is he?” he asked, referring to the man’s injured protégé, who was now sitting up on his own, leaning somewhat haphazardly against the tree trunk that he’d been thrown against. He was waving a hand around as he talked to T’Pol while she ran a scan on him. Daevin and his men had already returned to the city with Healon, the furious Elder significantly upset by the discovery that his apprentices were capable of such blatant violence against another.

“Taelek will be fine.”

“Good...”

Koerin turned, taking in the pensive profile of his conversation partner. It wasn’t hard to read the mixture of anger, apprehension and fear in the wide green eyes. “Thank you, Captain. And your men?”

“Other than Commander Tucker, they’re okay. Just a little shaken…” Archer answered distractedly, his gaze fixed upon Phlox as the doctor finished up his examination of the two men. The rest of the crew hovered nearby, identical looks of concern marring each face. Even from this distance, he could tell that Trip was not doing well and his hands fisted in helpless fury. He was so caught up in his thoughts that it took him a while to realise that Koerin was speaking again.

“…apologise for Daevin’s atrocious behaviour. Do you remember the almost similar incident I spoke of earlier? The one that took place many generations ago?” Koerin asked. He waited for the silent bob of the head before continuing, “His family was one of the several … casualties … of that encounter. His bloodline was almost wiped out then, only the fast thinking actions of an Elder saved the last surviving member of the ill-fated family. We did not expect him to carry such a hatred for outsiders because of what happened so long ago.”

Archer blinked, a portion of his mind automatically assimilating the information while the other part of him raged on. He couldn’t yet get himself to forgive the young J’rall for almost killing two of his senior officers, but he was beginning to understand the reason behind what appeared to be a seemingly indiscriminate and irrational attack. “Still,” he began heatedly, “that was no excuse–”

“I agree, Captain Archer, whatever that took place just now should never had happened. Be assured that Daevin and his friends will be well and suitably dealt with by the Council for their rash actions.”

The old man’s calm acquiescence quickly defused Archer’s flash of anger and he gave a deep sigh, suddenly feeling much older than his actual years. This had been an extremely long day, it didn’t look as if it was going to come to a close anytime soon – and he was beginning to feel the aftereffects of the constant tension that rode on his shoulders, ever since Trip’s collapse outside the Armoury less than twenty-four hours ago. Had it only been yesterday? Running a weary hand across his face, he slid a sideways glance at the robed man. “How’d you know?”

Koerin didn’t ask for any more clarification, knowing exactly what Archer was asking. He turned his eyes towards his young apprentice, who was now walking around with the help of Ensign Foster. “Taelek sent me a telepathic call for help the moment he spotted Daevin and his men.”

“He expected trouble?”

“No, he did not. But after the confrontation with Healon, I told him before he left with Lieutenant Reed that he should call me should he see anything that was even remotely out of place. He must have sensed something when the three of them suddenly appeared like that.”

“I’m glad he did what he did. You’ve trained him well.”

Koerin nodded, indicating his thanks. “And you yourself have a wonderful crew, Captain. You should be proud.”

“I am, Koerin, I am.”

* * * * *

It was an abnormally quiet group that lingered on the outer side of the large wooden door. During the remaining part of the journey to the castle, Trip was so still that, at first glance, he appeared to be dead. The only evidence of life he showed was the slight, periodic rise of his chest. As Phlox had feared, the Commander’s condition had started to deteriorate not long after he’d fallen asleep and the attack had only served to aggravate his fairly serious condition. By the time the somewhat frantic group had reached the castle, the engineer had already slipped into a deep coma.

Koerin, alarmed by the unexpected development, had quickly asked the men to move him into the chamber, before directing Taelek and Phlox inside as well. With an apologetic nod, he’d then closed the door behind him, leaving whatever that was left of the away team on the other side to pass the time in a restless wait.

While T’Pol stood in almost unnatural stillness, Archer was not as restrained about showing how he felt, his worry obvious as he paced up and down the narrow corridor. Nearby, Travis, Hoshi, Malcolm, Tanner and Michaels formed small groups of their own. Other than the two J’rall stationed in front of the door, the seven of them were the only ones there, Archer having ordered Cutler, Foster and Novakovich to return to Enterprise fifteen minutes ago.

Hoshi sighed inwardly, taking another peek at the man beside her, who was, even now, keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. From his hard, rigid stance, she could tell that Malcolm was still very wary of their alien hosts. Not that she’d blamed him, especially in light of what just happened outside the city, but he was so tense that she was worried he might just snap into two if he kept it up. Giving him a gentle nudge with her elbow, she waited until he turned distracted eyes towards her.

“He’s in good hands. Try and relax…”

Eyebrows rising, Malcolm blinked once in surprise and then shook his head. “There’ll be plenty of time to do that once we’re onboard and away from here.”

“The J’ralls mean well,” Hoshi stated earnestly, placing one hand on his arm, earning herself another look of mild surprise from the Tactical Officer. “Especially Koerin and Taelek. I’m sure they’re doing everything they can for him.”

His eyes flickering for a moment to her small hand resting upon his forearm before coming to rest on the large wooden door and the unreadable faces of the guards guarding it, Malcolm ran her words through his mind. He wasn’t exactly sure what they could do if things did turn ugly, like they had back in the forest, but he was sure that they’d think of something. After all, everyone has a weakness somewhere, even seemingly invincible telepathic-telekinetic beings.

And if they looked hard enough, they’d find it. Eventually.

The incongruity of the notion did not escape him and his mouth twisted sardonically – Malcolm Reed, pessimistic extraordinaire who, at this point, appeared to be in the very first stages of rehabilitation. Now he was sure that he’d been spending far too much time in the Commander’s presence – some of the man’s interminable, and sometimes exasperating, optimism had even rubbed off on him, if that particular thought was any indication. Gingerly fingering the sore areas around his throat, Malcolm forced his thoughts to the present and bit out a toneless reply, his softly spoken words sending a slight chill down Hoshi’s spine.

“They’d better make bloody sure that they do…”

* * * * *

With a peculiar sense of detachment, Trip reflected that perhaps dying wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Of course, the darkness that currently engulfed him might have something to do with his current assessment of things. There was something different about it, something … soothing. He was strangely comforted by its ubiquitous presence as he floated within the deep black nothingness. The best part of it all was, for the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, there wasn’t any pain, which basically had been a constant companion of his every waking moment for the past week.

He might’ve hidden it effectively from his friends, but he’d be lying to himself if he’d said that he’d coped well with everything that had happened – the visions, the confusion and most of all, the pain. There had been times that he simply didn’t even care anymore; all he wanted was for everything to stop, to go back to the way things were before that damned insect added that extra something into his bloodstream.

There wasn’t any doubt in his mind that the only thing that had kept him going throughout the whole experience was the support of his friends, especially from Jon. Unfortunately, the very thought of the people that he cared about only intensified the ache within the region of his heart, the pain bringing tears to his eyes. But the anguished man welcomed the sharp excruciating twinge; it was a poignant reminder of what he’d been forced to give up. A ghost of a sigh escaped him. It’d been a great ride while it lasted, Cap’n, hasn’t it? … Sorry I couldn’t be there t’complete the mission with you and the others…

Trip drew in a sharp breath, mourning his loss. What he regretted more, however, was the missed opportunity to say his goodbyes to the people who mattered most to him. A cynical smile twisted his lips as he wondered if he was really prepared for the upcoming journey, one that none of his family or friends would be able to follow just yet. His soft humourless half laugh pierced the suffocating silence at the irony of his question. It wasn’t as if he had much of a choice in the matter, noting without much interest that he was now more or less in an upright position. It wasn’t much of an improvement, considering that he still couldn’t see anything past his nose.

But it was definitely better than an aimless drift in the dark.

It was funny; some of the stories that he’d heard about death and the dying usually involved some sort of light. Trust him to be the one to end up in the only tunnel with a broken lightbulb at the end of it – if there was even an end to this place. Trip heaved a sigh, reaching out blindly with one hand. Guess it’s time t’find out what’s on the other side…

He was about to take his first step forward when he froze, a slight frown materialising upon his forehead. Something was wrong. No, he amended silently, looking around with growing curiosity. Not wrong … Just … different…

Then it registered.

The general darkness around him was shifting – starting to lose its density – becoming less of a solitary colour and more of a mixture of several. He could actually see. Blinking in astonishment, Trip searched his surroundings for the reason for the change, his grief momentarily forgotten. Holding up a hand to shade his eyes, he squinted into the brightening glare, eyebrows rising at the sight that greeted him. What…? How…?

And walking towards him, surrounded by a dim curious glow, were two men, one of which he’d recognised. Once again, he marvelled at the species. Their unusual facial appearance and extraordinary mental abilities made them a truly remarkable group of people. Strangely drawn to the two, Trip remained still, watching with wide-eyed wonder as they came nearer towards him, their brilliant emerald green eyes glowing brightly in the fast diminishing gloom.

“Hello, Commander Tucker,” the older one smiled as they halted across him. “My name is Koerin. I believe you know my protégé, Taelek.”

“Good wishes, Commander Tucker,” Taelek greeted with a bow. “It is good to see you again.”

“Hello. It’s nice t’see ya again, too, Taelek. Are you–err…?” Words failed him at this point and he just stared bemusedly at them, eyes flickering from one man to the other. He could understand how he might have included Taelek into this dream … this hallucination, of his, seeing that he’d met the man, but Koerin? Even for an active imagination such as his, the older J’rall seemed so real, too real to be made up. Besides, if he’d had to die with someone in his mind, he’d rather have Jonathan Archer over green-eyed aliens any time.

“Real?” At Trip’s slow nod, Koerin said easily, “Yes, Commander, I assure you, we are very real.”

“Both of you?”

“Both of us.”

The slight furrow between Trip’s brows deepened. “But how…? How’d you get here?”

Koerin waved a hand at their surroundings. “Where do you think we are, young Tucker?”

Following the gesture, Trip did so, and was suddenly cognizant of the disquieting fact that, except for a swirl of faint colours, there wasn’t anything around them. There was neither sky … nor ground. They were literally standing on nothing. He’d been so sure that everything was just in his mind, but with the appearance of the two men, doubts were now starting to set in. What if he had been wrong and whatever he was in was something a lot worse than death?

“I … I … don’t know,” he said weakly. There was a faint trace of panic in his voice as he asked, looking wide eyed at his strange surroundings. Though made of nothing, it seemed to be closing in on them, on him. “Where are we? Am I a prisoner then?”

“No, you are not. Calm down, Commander,” Koerin soothed in a low voice. “Breathe…”

Fighting off a wave of dizziness, Trip instinctively obeyed the gentle command. As his hammering heart gradually slowed, he gazed up in awkward confusion at the older man. Swallowing, he asked again, “Where are we?”

“Somewhere safe.”

“Are you sure?” Trip asked, darting a glance at their surroundings. “It doesn’t look like any place I know.”

“Looks can be very deceiving.”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Trip mumbled, eyes downcast. Abruptly, his head jerked up. “I’m dead, or at least, dying…” He swallowed hard. “Right…?”

Koerin studied him for a moment, taking in the haunted eyes and resigned air. “That depends, young Tucker…”

“That depends?” the engineer repeated, his incredulity evident in his voice. “On what?”

“On whether you prefer death over life.”

TBC

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A/N: Thank you all so much for the feedback so far. You guys are the best!

Neo Getz: A fellow Christian. Very cool. :D
Whoa, you sound like you’ve done both the giving and receiving of ‘the look’ before. Yeah, I can imagine how horrible the feeling would be when you’re on the receiving end. As for Trip, he’s too ill to even realise that there was a threat hanging over their heads. *confidential whisper* Also, he had absolutely no idea how to control his powers at all. But as you can see, the whole mess tuned out okay. Well, sort of okay. ;)
A scaphoid fracture? Ouch, that sounds really painful. Which wrist was it? Has the plaster come off? Hope you’ll have a quick recovery!

Rinne: No problem, Rinne. :) Glad to have you with us!

isis: Oops, sorry about the suspense and cliffhangers. There are five more chapters after this one, so it’s nearing the end. :)

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Three people have made comments

What a great chapter. I like how you showed the different pov. Please update soon.

Another good chapter. Looking forward to seeing what happens next!

Left hand, off last friday.

Gr8 chapter, loved reading it, ok i dont like reading ppl trying to kill Trip but hey it woz well written n all.

Write more soon plz, Or i get a Nerf bat on u!