Psyche and Sound- Chapter 17

Psyche and Sound

by Orion9

Disclaimer: Enterprise and all related characters belong to Paramount.

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Chapter Seventeen – Awakening

The very first thing that he became aware of was the dull throbbing in his head. The faint buzz in his ears came next and he shifted his head slightly, trying to dislodge whatever that was making the irritating noise. It didn’t go away totally, but receded into a tolerable hum in the background as he finally focused on a familiar sound and forced his eyes open.

“Welcome back…”

Trip blinked at the blurry images swirling nauseatingly around him, trying not to gag. Nothing was making much sense to his aching head right now but he was sure of one thing – that voice. It filled him with a warmth only a close friend could give. It felt right – he’d recognise it anywhere.

“Cap’n?” he croaked, one hand coming up to rub his eyes.

“Glad you’ve decided to join us, Trip,” Archer teased lightly, his relief obvious in his voice. He chuckled as he watched the recovering man struggle valiantly to open his eyes. Along with his pale, sleepy face and tousled head, the action made Trip look very much like a small boy who’d just been woken up from an afternoon nap.

“Commander?” This was from Phlox, who drew nearer, the ever-present medical tricorder in his right hand. After a quick scan, he placed it down and picked up a cup. “Here,” he directed, lifting it to the thirsty man’s lips, who sipped the cool liquid gratefully. “How are you feeling?”

Blue slits focused blearily up at the Denobulan and the face screwed up. “Like an elephant had jus’ finished using me as its personal trampoline.”

Archer chuckled at the show of spirit from the engineer, feeble though it was. He watched as Phlox gave the obviously hurting man a shot for the pain and met the drowsy eyes, seeing the unspoken message in them. “Rest. We’ll talk later.”

Trip nodded with some effort, his eyes already closing. He didn’t see the smile that lit up Archer’s face following that promise or feel the brief grip of a grateful man’s hand on his shoulder; he was already sound asleep.

* * * * *

Over the course of the next thirty-six hours, the engineer slid in and out of the black void, and each time he woke up, the steady, reassuring presence of Jonathan Archer was there to greet him. They’d talked and slowly, the pieces began to fall into place, filling in the blank spaces of Trip’s memory. He couldn’t remember anything past the conversation he had with Malcolm and the rest of guys before falling asleep but it wasn’t long before he had the complete update of what took place down on the planet.

Badly shaken at first, Trip soon came to terms with how close he’d been to dying, Daevin’s attack notwithstanding, and seeing the faint impression of exhaustion that had lined Jon’s features didn’t help elevate the guilt much. Concentrating on the positive side of things, he was extremely thankful for coming out all right from the unusual experience, and especially for the people that he was serving with on the ship. It was a humbling experience in itself.

Due to his still fatigued state, their talks were brief, and sometimes he’d fall asleep in the middle of their conversations, but when he did, he did so without any fears or reservations, comforted by the presence of someone he trusted implicitly. After the first few times, and helped along by Phlox’s medication, Trip’s body soon adjusted as he gradually recovered his strength.

The next time he woke up, Archer wasn’t there anymore but there were several bodies in front of him, apparently engaged in a serious conversation. His ears pricked up as soon as he heard his name among the generally incoherent murmurs and he frowned. If there was one thing he hated more than people talking behind his back, it was that they were speaking about him right in front of him.

“Would you three quit talkin’ ’bout me like I’m not here?”

The three in question turned at the low, raspy complaint, identical smiles lighting up their faces as they looked into a pair of pain-clouded eyes. Obviously irritated, the drowsy owner was trying his best to glare at them, but not succeeding too well, owing to the fact that he was still having trouble focusing properly.

“Hey, Commander! Glad to see you‘re awake.”

Wincing at Travis’s exuberant greeting, Trip closed his eyes against the pounding in his head. And he’d thought Phlox’s cheerfulness was bad, remembering the doctor’s jovial manner when he’d relayed his gratitude and thanks to the Denobulan physician for everything he’d done during the past two weeks.

“Thanks, Travis.” Trip lifted the fingers of one hand in greeting, finally managing to get his tongue unstuck from the roof of his mouth long enough to rasp out a reply. “Nice t’see you too.”

“You look terrible.”

Cracking an eye open at the sound of a feminine voice, he flashed Hoshi a weak version of his usual charming grin. “And I still say you jus’ want me for my looks…”

“Hah… you should be so lucky,” she retorted with a wide smile. She waited until Malcolm and Travis had raised him into a sitting position before handing the thirsty man a glass of water, smiling at the look of bliss on the Commander’s face as he slowly finished the cool liquid.

“Thanks, and I am … lucky, that is,” Trip said solemnly, all at once entirely serious. The Chief Engineer’s abrupt shift in mood wasn’t lost on his friends and they waited silently as he collected his thoughts, his long fingers absentmindedly playing with the now empty glass.

“I jus’ wanna say thank you for your support, for everything…” Trip continued after a moment, sending them a shy smile. “No one could’ve asked for better friends, or crewmates.”

Swallowing past the lump in her throat, Hoshi met the steady gaze, seeing all the gratitude that he’d been unable to put into words clearly expressed in their blue depths. Returning Trip’s smile with a shaky one of her own, she answered for the three of them, “You’re welcome, Commander.”

“It’s Trip. I’m off duty, remember…?” he corrected absently, his attention already somewhere else.

“What? What is it?” Malcolm asked, suddenly wary at the intense blue stare that was presently leveled at his face.

“What happened t’yer eye?”

Trip’s innocent question earned him a baleful glare from the Armoury Officer. Confused, he peered closer at his obviously irritated friend. “What?”

Hearing sniggers and muffled laughter coming from the two younger ones, Trip turned narrowed eyes at them. “Hoshi? Travis? Is there something I should know?”

“Apparently you have a killer right hook, Commander…” Mayweather finally managed with a drunken grin.

“A killer right hook…” Trip trailed off, his eyes widening as the implication of the Helm Officer’s words hit him.

“It was me? I did that?!” he asked incredulously, staring at the dark-haired man. “But how?”

“That’s what we’ve been trying to find out! All Doctor Phlox would tell us is that you caused it with your right fist,” Hoshi pointed out, giving the Armoury Officer a measured look. She turned and grinned at Trip. “Perhaps you could dig the particulars out from him…”

“Me? Why me?”

“There’ll be no digging of any sort, thank you very much,” Malcolm interjected stiffly before Hoshi could reply, ignoring the blatant amusement of his fellow crewmates. Even Trip was finding the whole thing rather humourous, if the grin was beginning to form on his face was any indication; the shock of finding out that he was the actual cause of the bruise was evidently being very speedily replaced by the man’s legendary curiosity.

Trip cocked his head to one side. “Malcolm?”

And as much as he enjoyed seeing some measure of colour on his friend’s face, Malcolm wasn’t sure he wanted to go into the embarrassing details right now. “I’d rather not talk about that, if the three of you don’t mind.”

“But…” Trip began.

“No.”

Undeterred by the brusque tone, Trip gave him a pleading look. “Aww, Mal… C’mon…”

Gritting his teeth, Malcolm cursed his friend’s ability to effectively portray a kicked puppy – a proverbial look that had landed him into trouble more times than he cared to remember. Steadfastly refusing to meet Trip’s eyes, Malcolm glared the other two miscreants instead, who were looking expectantly at him while trying their best to keep their smiles from showing. Trying… Hah!

Before the Lieutenant could muster a suitable reply that wouldn’t land him in the brig for a month, a cool voice broke into the hilarity of the group.

“It is good to see you awake, Commander.”

Trip turned towards the door, a smile lighting up his handsome face at the sight of the newcomer walking towards them. Malcolm puffed out a discreet breath of relief, glad for the timely interruption. He’d never been so happy to see the Sub-Commander than this very moment. Excellent timing, Sub-Commander, my dignity owes you one.

“Hey, T’Pol. Thanks.”

“How are you?”

“Better,” Trip admitted with a low sigh. “I still have a slight headache but I’m hoping that it’ll go away soon.” He sneezed suddenly, looking slightly startled by what he just did. Sniffling, he shot T’Pol and the rest of his friends a wry look. “Err… And I think I might have jus’ caught a cold…”

One delicate brow lifted. “I am sure the doctor will be able to help with that.”

“I’m sure that I will,” piped up a new voice and Trip looked past the slim Vulcan to see Phlox beaming down at him, this time with the medical tricorder in one hand and a hypospray in the other. “It’s time for your medication, Commander.”

Staring bemusedly at the physician, Trip wondered how the Denobulan always managed to pop up as he did. “One day, I’m gonna find out exactly how he does that,” the engineer grumbled darkly under his breath. Catching sight T’Pol’s raised eyebrow, he flushed, realising that she must have overheard his muttered comment. However, he couldn’t resist baiting her, and asked with a cheeky grin, “Sm’thing I can do for you, Sub-Commander?”

Although no one caught T’Pol’s answer, the last thing the three friends heard as they were unceremoniously herded out of Sickbay by Phlox was Trip’s indignant bellow of ‘What’s that s’pposed to mean?!’. Exchanging grins, they carried on towards the bridge for their shift.

Yes, it was good to have him back.

* * * * *

“Come again?”

“You, Commander, have the flu.”

“What?! But how is that possible?” Trip groaned, burying his head in his hands. This was not happening to him. He’d fought off a high fever, recovered from a bout with bronchitis and had just survived a severe case of pneumonia. He refused to have the damned flu. He was about to dispute Phlox’s diagnosis when he sneezed hard. All right, he conceded bleakly, blowing his nose, perhaps he was a little sick. But only a little… right? As if to lay false to his claim, another series of sneezes overtook him. His eyes watered.

Okay. Well, maybe he was more than a little sick. Damn–

Archer winced sympathetically as Trip’s lean body shook with every sneeze, knowing how much the young officer hated being ill. And if the runny eyes, red nose and the hoarse, rasping quality of the Chief Engineer’s voice was anything to go by, this flu was a bad one. Leaning back in his chair, he prepared himself to enjoy the battle of wills about to take place right in front of him. With some measure of glee, he eyed the stubborn expression on the younger man’s face and the equally determined look in Phlox’s eyes. Oh, this should be good…

“…Normally, you would have had no problem fighting off this mild infection on your own,” Phlox was saying. “In fact, you’ll probably not even have a sniffle to show for it. However, with your body’s immune system weakened by your experience…” The doctor beamed at him. “But not too worry, this ailment doesn’t post any danger to your health…”

“No, jus’ my sanity,” Trip grumbled, referring to the off-duty status that was sure to be assigned to him. Trying hard but failing to prevent it from happening, he suffered through a brief, hard bout of coughing. Leaning back in private relief once that torture session was over, Trip looked at the man who held the freedom of his next few days in his capable Denobulan hands and gave him his best glare.

The effect of which, unfortunately, was spoilt by the accompanying sniffles he was suffering from.

About to further argue his case, Trip forgot what he wanted to say when his ears picked up a badly-suppressed chuckle from the nearby chair. Ignoring his slight headache, the engineer whipped his head around to aim the same furious look at the amused onlooker, who quickly held up a hand in apology.

“Sorry … please, do continue,” the Starfleet Captain managed to choke out, trying but not doing a very good job of keeping his amusement from showing. The eye roll from his exasperated friend only managed to elevate his mirth even further.

Giving up on his Captain as a lost cause, Trip returned to his original target, blue eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Not that it did him any good. Wholly unruffled by the waves of hostility emitting from the man, Phlox continued to beam cheerfully at his disgruntled patient. It certainly felt good to have him back, exasperating crankiness and all.

“I doubt that, Commander. Your sanity will be entirely unharmed,” the physician responded with a smile, ignoring the stifled, indignant protest. “And, with some rest and antibiotics, you should be back on duty … let’s say, in about three days time.”

“Three days!” Trip yelped, sitting up straight, his face blanching. “But–” he stopped, catching sight of the physician’s resolute and no-nonsense look. He’d known Phlox’s long enough to recognise that particular expression when he saw it. Without missing a beat, the beleaguered engineer snapped his mouth shut and turned pleading eyes towards his one final hope.

“Cap’n?”

Again, Archer’s mouth twitched, this time at the sound of the small, hopeful voice. He shook his head, trying even harder not to laugh when his best friend seemed to deflate right before his eyes at his answer. “Sorry, Trip, but he’s right. You need the rest.”

“But, Cap’n–”

A dark eyebrow tracked upwards, causing him to stop in mid-protest and Tucker gave up, knowing that he’d just lost this particular skirmish. He slumped back once more onto the biobed with a fierce scowl, arms crossed over his chest. “Dammit…”

* * * * *

“So this was the huge insect that bit you?” Travis blurted out, looking in disbelief at the ridiculously tiny creature that was flying wildly under the glass.

Along with Hoshi, he was once again visiting Trip in Sickbay when Malcolm had appeared, lugging with him a glass container containing the mysterious psŷc. Koerin had generously allowed a specimen to be brought on board and Malcolm was hoping that seeing something new might help to elevate the engineer’s unmistakable restlessness. Not that Malcolm blamed the man. Despite his considerably vocal protests, Phlox had decided to keep Tucker in Sickbay until his three days were up, in case there should be any more reoccurrences of his previous symptoms. It was safe to say that Trip wasn’t at all happy with the decision.

“Hey! It’d look huge to you too if it flew up right to your face!” the aggrieved man replied defensively, peering at the jar. So this was the cause of his telepathic ability and more importantly, his present incarceration. Glaring hotly at the offending creature, the crabby engineer wondered if he could convince Malcolm to lend him a phase pistol. He could always set it to stun. He sneezed, wiping his runny nose.

Or not.

With a miserable sniffle, Trip wondered sarcastically if Phlox’s antibiotics were actually doing him any good, it felt as it his cold was getting worse with every shot, instead of better.

“It’s so cute!” Hoshi remarked, earning herself a glower from the grouchy man. She grinned back unrepentantly at him. Despite the red nose and watery eyes, the Commander looked utterly adorable in his sulky, little boy mode. “It is! Look at it! It looks just like a tiny golden ladybug.”

“Sure, if ladybugs came golden yellow, complete with ten legs,” Malcolm observed in his usual droll tone. Trip flashed the Armoury Officer an appreciative grin just as Hoshi smacked the man lightly in the arm, startling him.

“What? I’m just saying…” he lifted his hands in defense, a dark brow raised at the Communications Officer, who shook her head at him, exasperation on her delicate features.

Grinning at their light banter, Travis bent down for a closer look, thinking that Hoshi was right. Sort of. If you squinted hard enough, and tilted your head at a certain angle, it may just pass for a demented version of the lovable ladybug. He straightened after a while and looked at his friends. “I think we’d better return this to Koerin before the Doc decides he wants to adopt it for a pet.”

“Heaven forbid,” the Lieutenant muttered under his breath while he watched with narrowed eyes as the younger man carefully scooped up the jar and carried it out of Sickbay, followed closely by Hoshi. If there was one thing in life that he was sure of right now, it’d be that he’d never wanted to go through what they just did with Trip, ever again. Once was enough to last him a couple hundred lifetimes. Besides, he was too young to have any grey hair although he had a suspicious feeling that hanging out with the Commander might not be the best thing to do if he wanted to avoid getting them. Just look at the Captain…

“Some friend yer turnin’ out to be…”

“Hmmm?” Malcolm turned absently towards Trip, his mind still very much on the hazards of being a certain Commander’s friend, only to find the engineer glaring at him. “What?”

“You were supposed to help convince the Doc to release me, not add another day to the incarceration period…Luckily I managed to talk him outta it…” Trip shuddered.

Malcolm arched an eyebrow, studying the cranky face with undisguised interest. “Incarceration period?”

“Yeah. What did you say to him anyway?”

The Lieutenant crossed his arms over his chest and ignored the suspicious look aimed at him. “Nothing. He just decided that you needed the rest on his own.”

“I’ll bet…” Trip tossed back. He sighed, leaning tiredly back onto his pillow. “What had you so deep in thought jus’ now anyway? Somethin’ wrong?”

“No, just thinking.”

“’Bout what?”

“Premature grey strands.”

“Huh?” Confused by the sudden change of subject matter, Trip frowned up at the distracted look on his friend’s face. “Malcolm?”

“What’s your opinion on hair dye, Commander?”

* * * * *

“Please,” Archer invited once the food was served, smiling at Koerin and Taelek. Accepting the invitation three days ago to visit Enterprise while they waited for the recovering man to regain consciousness, the J’ralls were now seated at the Captain’s Mess, along with T’Pol, Trip and Malcolm.

With quiet enthusiasm, they dug in, and the meal passed pleasantly, punctuated by frequent bursts of laughter. It wasn’t until the desserts came that Archer turned towards Koerin. “About what we discussed yesterday, there’s no way we could change your mind?”

At his peripheral vision, he saw the slight rise of T’Pol’s eyebrow but ignored her reaction; he knew what she’d thought of his request. Trip and Malcolm’s identical looks of confusion were a different matter altogether and Archer turned towards them, saying, “I asked Koerin yesterday if his people would reconsider their strict privacy policy as they could really help–“

“I’m sorry, Captain,” Koerin interjected gently before the younger man could go on any further. “But like I said yesterday, we prefer not to interfere with another’s affair, for we wish the same courtesy on our society. We would just like to be left alone.”

Archer’s reluctant nod at Koerin’s request only vaguely registering, Trip stared hard at one of the two men who’d saved his life, a slight frown marring the smoothness of his forehead. Despite feeling a little under the weather, he was well enough to read between the lines of the old J’rall’s speech. “We won’t be seein’ any of you again, would we?” he asked in a low voice.

From his side of the table, Koerin considered his answer, studying the officer who, in his own unique way, had become rather special to him, thanks to their recent experience together. This unusual encounter was almost enough to make him wish that their current political administration and practices were different. However, he knew that one man’s opinion would hardly make a dent on a practice that has been in use for the past two thousand years. His deep baritone voice was tinged with regret as he answered, “No, I am afraid not, young Tucker, but who is to say what the future may hold, hmm…?”

* * * * *

“Goodbye, Lieutenant Reed. And thank you. I have enjoyed your stories tremendously.”

“It was a pleasure, Taelek. And thank you… I don’t believe I’ve ever shared so much of my childhood memories before. It has been a while since I’ve even thought about them.”

“You should do it more often then.”

“I will, Taelek. Thanks.”

“I have enjoyed all of our discussions, Sub-Commander, brief though each of them might had been.”

“They have certainly been enlightening, Koerin. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.”

Giving T’Pol a low bow and a warm smile, Koerin then turned his attention towards the remaining two members of the group of officers who were down on the planet with them. He did not wish to keep them any longer than necessary, knowing how uncomfortable their people were about strangers down on the planet, even strangers who’d become friends in the last few days. Regardless of their powerful capabilities to protect themselves from hostile visitors, they were by nature a very private race, and would prefer not to have any unnecessary contact. His gaze rested briefly upon the small transport behind the group. Having said his goodbyes earlier, Ensign Mayweather was already inside, preparing the shuttlepod for their imminent departure. Along with Taelek, he gave Archer a low bow.

“Thank you for your hospitality these past three days, Captain.”

“Not at all, Koerin. I hope that you’ve both enjoyed your visit here.”

“We most certainly did. Farewell, Captain Archer. May you and your crew continue to have a safe and fruitful journey.”

“Thank you, Koerin. Goodbye.”

Turning, Koerin grasped the offered hand and shook it firmly. “And goodbye to you, young Tucker. It has indeed been a privilege.”

“Same here, Koerin,” Trip answered with a grin. “Goodbye, and thanks, for everything.”

• * * * *
•
“So… why aren’t there any records of these people in the Vulcan Database?” Trip asked curiously once they had safely taken off and were en route for Enterprise.

T’Pol levelled him a look. “I believe that they have been keeping themselves hidden from the rest of the universe, after a devastating planetary war many thousands of years ago, one that also destroyed their monarchy system.”

Malcolm glanced up at that, his interest sparked by the mention of a mysterious skirmish which he’d never heard of before. “Which war was this?”

“Koerin was not very forthcoming with that information.”

Reed looked disappointed while Trip made a face at T’Pol’s answer. “I bet there’ll be nothin’ in t’Vulcan Database about that either.” He didn’t wait for her confirmation of his theory but turned towards Archer. “Do you think we’ll be able to find the city again if we needed to?”

“I doubt that, Trip. They’re extremely powerful telepaths and with their ability … unless they themselves wished to be seen,” Archer shook his head. “Perhaps when our technology catches up with what their minds are capable of, maybe then, we’ll have a chance but not now.”

“Imagine the sort of power that is needed to continually cloak a whole city mentally… let alone all the cities down there…” Malcolm murmured distractedly.

“Yeah, imagine that…” Trip repeated with a thoughtful look on his face. “They’d make great allies…”

“… or powerful enemies,” Archer concluded with a nod. “These things could always go either way.”

“Then I for one agree with the neutral policy that they have adopted in their dealings with the rest of the universe.”

Trip slid a glance at the Vulcan when she had finished. “That’s true… but all that power…”

“Which should never be used–”

“But just imagine for a second that it was.”

“I do not see the purpose in doing so, Commander.”

“Never mind t’purpose, jus’ stay with me here for a second…”

Leaning back in his seat, Archer bit back a smile as he caught the flicker of exasperation in his Science Officer’s eyes. Once again, Trip had managed to draw T’Pol into one of his neverending ‘discussions’. On his side of the shuttle, Malcolm chuckled quietly to himself, enjoying the familiar belligerent look on the engineer’s face, something that he, and the rest of the crew had, at one time or another during the past two weeks, feared that they would never see again. However, like Archer and Travis, he wisely stayed out of the line of fire as the ‘discussion’ escalated, at least on the Chief Engineer’s part. Just as they docked with Enterprise, the all-too familiar protest erupted from the now incensed man’s mouth, causing their avid listeners to quickly mask their amused chuckles and delighted grins.

“Dammit, that wasn’t what I meant and y’know it!”

TBC

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