Psyche and Sound - Chapter 7

Psyche and Sound

by Orion9

Disclaimer: Enterprise and all related characters belong to Paramount.

A/N: Hugs to sHoT. Thanks, sis!

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Chapter Seven – Contact

From his position slightly in front of his team – he’d automatically shifted in front of Hoshi while Travis had the same with Liz Cutler when their visitors had appeared – Malcolm took a small cautious step forward, his whole stance tense and watchful. Considering that their clothes blended in perfectly with their surroundings, the Armoury Officer was surprised that any of them even saw the two aliens in the first place.

A persistent thought nagged at him; there was this uncomfortable feeling that both individuals would have remained unnoticed if that had been their desire to do so in the first place. And he didn’t like what that theory represented, not one bit. The notion that they would’ve just walked past the two of them without ever noticing that they were actually there – watching... listening… waiting… – did nothing to reduce his uneasiness or suspicion of the cloaked figures. He couldn’t even tell what gender they were; their voluminous clothing had effectively obscured that particular detail from his dubious gaze.

“Any sign of anyone else besides our mysterious friends over there?” he called out softly to his team without turning his head or looking away from the now silent strangers.

Three pairs of eyes darted around, taking quick, cautious glances of the forest that surrounded them before returning with a negative answer. Satisfied that they were currently not surrounded by the natives of this supposedly uninhabited planet, Malcolm gripped his phase pistol tighter and called out tentatively to the strangers, wishing heartily that he could see what they actually looked like under the thick covering of their robes.

“Err …hello?”

At his greeting, the figures exchanged a brief look. Then, in uncanny unison, they turned back to their visitors – hands held out in front of them, with the left clasped loosely in the curve of their right – and gave the bemused Enterprise crew a low bow in return. Malcolm was just contemplating if they should return the gesture when their unexpected company lifted their hands to push back the cowl of their cloak, displaying their features to them.

Moving slightly to the right so that Malcolm’s broad shoulders weren’t directly blocking her line of view, Hoshi’s eyes widened as she took in the men’s general appearance. They were definitely humanoids but she didn’t recognise the species; she was positive there weren’t any mention of them when she glanced through the Vulcan Database a few days ago. It would have been very difficult to forget if she had seen them before.

Each man had a pair of vivid emerald green eyes under thick brows but their most distinguished feature was three deep gash-like stripes on each cheek. Each also had a thick mop of hair, although the older man’s hair was pure white, like his brows, while his younger companion’s mane and eyebrows were a brilliant shade of red and orange. And neither looked as if they meant any harm, instead, they appeared to be waiting for them to make the first move.

Hoshi looked over at Malcolm as he tried communicating again, her fingers moving rapidly over the Universal Translator. She’d holstered her phase pistol and had been working on the UT since her sensitive ears had picked up the whispered conversation between the men a few minutes ago.

“We’re from the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise.”

Reaching out and grasping a long black staff that he’d leaned against a nearby tree, the older of the two then said something in reply, gesturing lightly at the four Enterprise crewmembers with his free hand. Malcolm took a quick look behind him, seeking out the linguist. Hoshi shook her head at him, even as she continued to work on translating the alien language.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, but I need more words.”

His expression revealing none of the misgivings and trepidation that he was feeling, Malcolm turned back towards the men and warily repeated his previous sentences. No matter how friendly or unthreatening they look, his phase pistol wasn’t going to be pointing anywhere else until he was sure that he and his team were not in any immediate danger.

“…the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise.”

After another brief conversation with his companion, the older man spoke up again, his voice low and pleasant. Slowly, the odd garbled sounds in his speech began to make sense. “–ood wishes. We welcome you to our world.”

Malcolm blinked, exhaling slowly. Lowering his phase pistol but not holstering it, he replied, “Thank you. I’m Lieutenant Malcolm Reed. My crewmates–“ Here he waved his free hand towards the vicinity of the other three people with him. “Ensign Hoshi Sato, Ensign Travis Mayweather and Crewman Elizabeth Cutler. We’re from the Starfleet exploration vessel Enterprise.”

Both men gave them another bow at the end of Malcolm’s introductions before the older one spoke up again, “I am Koerin. And this is my protégé, Taelek. We are glad that you are finally here.”

The Lieutenant raised an eyebrow, carefully hiding his surprise at the final sentence. He exchanged a quick look with Travis before turning distrustfully back to the men. “Oh?”

“Yes, we know why you have come and I am also afraid that you would not find whatever you are seeking for on your own.”

Malcolm frowned. “Forgive me for asking this but what do you know about what we are looking for?”

Koerin dipped his head as he answered, a congenial smile on his lined face, “One of your people, the fair-haired one, is very ill, is he not? We can help him.”

* * * * *

Looking up at the monitor above Tucker’s bed, Phlox studied the emerging data with a pleased smile. He glanced back to the biobed as the engineer stirred slightly, showing the initial signs of regaining consciousness for the first time in almost 24 hours. The doctor looked around. He’d already dimmed the lights of the surrounding area to 25% to accommodate a discomfort most likely to be experienced by the patient. Turning back to Tucker, Phlox gave a soft grunt of approval as the Chief Engineer’s eyelids began to flutter open.

“Ahh … Good afternoon, Commander. Good to have you finally awake…” the physician beamed at the disorientated man while Tucker peered up blearily at him.

“Doc…?” came the hoarse reply. “Where–?”

"In Sickbay. You’ve been here since last night. How do you feel?”

Although the room was in semi-darkness, Trip winced as the muted lights hit his eyes. He squeezed them shut, one hand covering the upper part of his face. He rasped out, voice was rough from lack of moisture and use, “My eyes … hurt. What’s … wrong with … ’em?”

“Just a little photosensitivity, Commander,” Phlox informed him with a smile, putting away his medical tricorder after completing the scan. “Perhaps a bit more than I had anticipated. Here, let me turn the lights down for you a little more until you’ve adjusted.”

At Phlox’s command, the room slowly darkened a little bit more. Somewhat cautiously, Trip cracked opened his eyes and looked groggily around. Meeting the doctor’s gaze, he whispered, “What … happened?”

“How much do you remember?” Phlox asked, helping the engineer sit up. He then handed him a small glass of water. “No… don’t gulp it. Take small sips… Better?”

Trip nodded, sipping carefully at the water, while he considered Phlox’s earlier question.

“Not much o’ what happened,” he said in the end. “I … I think I was on my way to the Armoury to see Malcolm when…”

“When…?” the Denobulan prompted when Tucker fell silent, his hands playing with the now-empty glass.

“I’m not sure,” Trip said quietly, slowly, shaking his head. It felt like it was stuffed full of cotton; everything was a hazy, confusing blur right now. “I remember suddenly … gettin’ all these thoughts … They were … were all jumbled up and comin’ from … everywhere, all at t’same time…”

“Really?” Phlox mused in amazement before shaking his head. “Most remarkable. The range of your telepathic ability has certainly increased greatly if you are able to receive thoughts from different parts of the ship. Anything else?”

Trip sighed. “Well, there’s the usual pain … and a whole lot of it…”

“I would have been surprised if there weren’t any,” the doctor remarked with a brisk nod, looking closely at Tucker. Although his vitals had unexpectedly stabilised a few hours ago, the Commander still looked drawn and extremely pale, his red-rimmed eyes and slightly sunken cheeks a clear indication of his soreness and fatigue.

“How about now? How are you feeling?”

“Jus’ the headache.”

Turning to the table beside him, Phlox filled a hypospray, injecting the contents in the side of Trip’s neck.

“Thanks, Doc,” Trip breathed a relieved sigh. Already the medication was working its magic – he felt almost himself again. Trip looked up, giving the doctor his best hopeful look, “So, when can I get back to work?”

Phlox shook head, giving the engineer his best doctor’s look. “I’m sorry, Commander, but you are in no condition to return to active duty. You’ve not fully recovered from your bout of bronchitis or pneumonia. On top of those, you still have a low grade fever.”

“Aww … C’mon, Doc,” Trip pleaded. “I’m okay. Really. Maybe jus’ a sore throat … and, and the headache but even that’s not that bad now, thanks to what you jus’ gave me…”

“I believe that what you have is more than just a headache, Commander, seeing that you almost died from your last mental assault,” Phlox nodded at the other man’s startled look, before proceeding to tell Tucker what had happened during the entire time he’d lain unconscious in Sickbay.

“Furthermore,” the doctor finished sternly, “you need to stay here, away from the other crewmembers. This will decrease the chances of you receiving their thoughts unintentionally, which is most likely to be the trigger of these attacks.”

“But I feel fine now…” Trip said, his voice trailing away at the end of his sentence. Although his face was now paler than before, there was a hint of awe in his voice, as what he’d just been told finally hit him. He had no idea he’d come so close to death.

Phlox smiled at the myriad of expressions that crossed the young man’s face before answering, “Yes, this is a really intriguing development. The good news is, the more acute, life-threatening of your infirmities have all but disappeared when the chemical levels in your brain returned to normal a few hours ago.”

“Well, if I’m back to normal–”

“Please, Commander, if you would let me finish…” Phlox waited for until the dark blond head bobbed in hesitant agreement before continuing, ”Based on your recent medical record, I believe that your next attack will be even more acute than the last one. If this happens, your body will not be able to survive another mental assault, be it of the degree of your last attack or the one before it, let alone one of a more severe intensity. Because of this, and because we have no way of determining when it may take place, every possible precaution must be taken to prevent it from ever happening.”

Trip stared incredulously at the CMO of the Enterprise. “What are you sayin’, Doc? That I could die if I get ‘nother dose o’ what happened last night?”

Phlox’s smile had vanished at the final question and he now looked gravely at his patient, “Not ‘could’, I’m afraid. More like ‘will’. Even if your body is somehow able to withstand the violent repercussions that seem to accompany these attacks, it is almost a certainty that your mind would not, seeing that there were some major complications the last time.”

Trip chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, digesting the information, his eyes wide and haunted. After some time, meeting Phlox’s concerned gaze, he said quietly, “So, I’ll need t’stay here then… away from everyone…”

“Yes, until we get an antidote formulated, that would be the best course of action.”

* * * * *

“Still nothing, Sir,” Crewman Novakovich reported as he walked back towards the rest of the team, his scans complete.

Concealing his disappointment from the rest of his team, Archer nodded tersely at the frustratingly recurring answer. If he had a choice, he’d rather be there when Trip woke up. But being in Sickbay was out, since Phlox wanted to keep Trip’s contact with his fellow humans down to a minimum, to reduce the risk of another mental onslaught.

He looked around as his team headed towards the next section. They’d been on the surface close to four hours now and from the looks of things, were no closer to a cure for Trip than when they’d first started. Their entire search area wasn’t that considerable but he was beginning to wonder if two teams were sufficient for the task, which was starting to look progressively hopeless with each passing hour.

Not that he’d lacked volunteers for this mission; once word got out, he’d been bombarded with requests to participate in the search, especially from Trip’s engineering crew. It wasn’t an easy decision to make, but in the end, he’d formed two search parties, the other headed by Malcolm. Speaking of which, I hope Malcolm’s team is doing a whole lot better than us…

“Captain…”

At T’Pol’s voice, Archer looked inquiringly over to where she was standing, tricorder in hand. With cool precise motions, she indicated the adjacent area with one hand, “I believe this is the final section of the forest on our side. There is still no sign of the insect.”

A frown marred Archer’s brow as he listened. While most of it was due to her report, a microscopic portion was caused by a mix of curiosity, confusion and amazement. For a brief moment, despite the fact that it’d vanished as quickly as it had appeared, he thought that he’d caught a particular glint in the Vulcan’s wide brown eyes, a flash of something... anxiety, perhaps? Was it possible that his Science Officer was more distressed about this situation with Trip than she was letting on?

“Captain?”

Jon blinked at her call and hastily refocused his thoughts. T’Pol was clearly waiting for a response to her report. Right now, with her looking so impassively at him, he was inclined to think that it was all probably just his imagination. Inwardly, he mentally cursed himself for being caught wool gathering, as Trip would say, especially at a time like this. Dismissing his theory as a fanciful notion most likely caused by the stress that he was under, he rubbed a weary hand over his face as he replied, grim-faced, “I realised that, T’Pol. Any other–”

The rest of his sentence, however, was lost as his communicator chirped softly at that very moment, interrupting him.

“Enterprise to Captain Archer. Please respond.”

“Go ahead.”

“Captain, we’ve lost contact with Lieutenant Reed’s team,” Lieutenant Daniel Anderson reported in a tight voice.

“What do you mean ‘lost contact’? What happened?” Archer demanded, his tone sharper than he’d intended. Beside him, T’Pol stood silent, listening closely.

“I don’t know, Sir. Their biosigns were there one minute and gone the next.”

“How long ago?”

“About ten minutes. We’ve been trying to scan for them ever since.”

Shooting T’Pol a troubled look, Archer spoke into the communicator once more, “Send down their last coordinates and keep scanning for them. Contact us immediately if there’s any news.”

“Aye, Captain.”

Signing off, Archer turned to his waiting officers. He didn’t bother to hide his uneasiness as he informed them grimly, “Everyone on high alert. It seems we may not be alone on this planet after all…”

TBC

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Neo Getz: You’re welcome. Thanks for the great review. Hope you enjoyed Chapter Seven as well. :)

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A handful of people have made comments

hello, I relish this story immensely, and I will watch anxiously for other parts, but there are two small things in this chapter that I kind of do not take as very possible.
YOu said that Trip was receiving thoughts from the whole ship, then placing him in sickbay would not make much sense anyway because he would be receiving the thoughts of the whole ship anyway. It would be much more logical to sedate him, because the brain is not able of perceiving of such extend in sleep.

And I think Archer would know much sooner than after 10 minutes that they lost vitals of Malcolm all in all it would mean that they are dead, but you pose it more as if they knew (precisely Archer) that they away team is not dead, but only lurking with some natives :)

I know that this sounded extremely critcally, but I write it only because I enjoy the story very much and it would be shame if there were such glaring plot holes that would spoil it :)
Akin

its fiction! you have prblems in fiction lol, though the sickbay thing did get to me tooo, n it wudnt necisarily take less than 10 mins to contact archer coz they wud have run a sensor analysis to make sure it wasnt malfunctioning first.

Loving it, loving the personal comments,
a gr8 chapter gd thing trips awake, but one more attack for death :'(

did i mention how gd this was?

Yay! Another update! Hmm... I wonder where Reed & Co. went?

Very well written... I didn't really have a problem with the sickbay thing, it keeps Trip where Phlox can keep an eye on him. And sedation wouldn't necessarily help with a psychic barrage of thoughts... All in all, great job! I look forward to the next chapter!

i think sedating him wud work, coz if the regions of his brain processing the thoughts is asleep it wont pick em up. simple neuro logic ( i think).