Fataliter - Parts 3 and 4

Fataliter

by plumtuckered

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters. I also borrowed the monitoring station idea from the series.

*************

PART THREE

*************

Jon looked past Trip to gaze out at the derelict ship as it drifted lifelessly. He watched as the engineer effortlessly maneuvered the shuttle pod to the docking port then smiled to himself as a light flashed confirming a seal.

“I think we’re here, sir,” said Trip with a touch of relief in his voice.

“Nice job,” said Jon from the back of the ‘pod.

The engineer swiveled around in his chair to look at his commanding officer. “Thanks. I guess we can add piloting a shuttle to the list of things I remember.”

Jon stood and picked up his EV helmet. “You still having doubts? I thought you agreed that you deserved the title of Chief Engineer again.”

Trip lifted his helmet from the chair behind him. “I do but there’s still a part of me that wonders if I’m really qualified.”

Jon smiled warmly. “I think you proved yourself during our ruse with Degra. If you hadn’t figured out how those vortexes worked, the whole deception would’ve failed. Everyone on board was impressed---including your captain.”

Trip looked at him askance then grinned and nodded.

Jon put on the heavy helmet then let Trip snap the closures down. He hit his comm. “Now let’s see what’s over there.”

The captain assisted Trip with his helmet then they both climbed up through the airlock to the other vessel. They’d picked up the abandoned ship just hours before on their sensors then upon discovering it was Xindi, Jon had quickly made the decision to investigate. The coordinates were only a light year off their course for Azati Prime.

“This ship looks ancient,” said Trip as he wandered around the tiny room into which they’d climbed. “None of these systems look to be operational.” He turned to look at Jon. “Did T’Pol pick up any residual energy readings?”

Jon shook his head. “No. This ship must’ve been floating out here for years. I was hoping there was still information in their database, though. Maybe some history on the Xindi we could use.”

“Ah, so you didn’t ask me along just for my company then,” replied Trip with a wide grin.

Jon laughed. “Just needed your mind, Commander,” he teased.

Trip turned back and flipped open a control panel. Jon moved to stand beside him, watching as the engineer’s fingers moved deftly through all the complex circuitry. He looked at Trip’s face illuminated softly by the helmet’s internal lights and wondered what was flying through his razor-sharp mind.

“Huh,” grunted the engineer.

“What?”

“Looks like there’s been a lot of re-routing done here.”

Jon looked back at the panel. “Can you tell why?”

Trip shook his head. “Some of these circuits appear to be newer than the others, Cap’n.”

“Maybe they came back to try to get it operational again. There must be a lot of valuable technology on board.”

“I don’t know, sir,” Trip said with trepidation. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Jon looked back at the younger man. “Okay, Trip. We’ll get out of here just as soon as we download the data.” He turned. “Is there an interface in here?”

Trip nodded. “Yeah,” he replied then he shut the panel and moved to a keyboard and display monitor. “Now let’s see if this thing has any power.”

Jon fingered his comm. on his EV suit. “Archer to Enterprise.”

“Go ahead, sir,” Hoshi replied.

“We’re about to download the database. Standby.”

Jon watched as Trip flipped a switch and the monitor blinked to life.

“What the hell?” gasped the engineer.

“What is it?” asked the captain.

“I think I just started a countdown, Cap’n.”

“A countdown?”

Trip’s fingers moved over the keys. “I can’t shut it down. I think you’d better get Enterprise out of here!”

Without hesitation, Jon hit his comm. again. “This is Archer. T’Pol get the hell out of here!”

“Captain?”

“You heard me! We’ve triggered some sort of self-destruct! It’s a trap, Sub-Commander, now get the ship out of here!” ordered Jon. He ended the transmission then looked at Trip. “Let’s get to the shuttle.”

Trip nodded and they both knelt beside the hatch. Jon tried to open it but to no avail.

“Damn it,” cursed Trip. “Use your phase pistol, sir. It might break the seal.” He stood. “I’ll see what I can do to stop the countdown.”

Jon pulled out his phase pistol and set it on the kill setting. The moment he depressed the trigger, fire filled the space around him and he fell backwards. He shook his head and sat up. Flames licked at his boots from the burning hatch. He looked up to see Trip still busy at the keyboard.

“Are you alright, Cap’n?” the commander shouted.

Jon nodded and stood. “Yeah. Is there anything you can do?”

“I’m not sure. From what I can tell, we’ve probably got less than a minute,” Trip replied hurriedly. He moved quickly back to the wall panel and opened the door.

Jon watched almost mesmerized as sparks flew from different panels and flames crawled life-like up the walls. He moved quickly to Trip’s side. Although from his angle he couldn’t see inside the panel, Jon could see the sparks and flames in the reflection of Trip’s face shield. The engineer’s face shined with sweat and Jon could see blood dripping from where he had his teeth clamped hard on his lower lip.

The captain waited and watched, knowing they only had seconds.

Trip made one final violent tug then turned and threw himself to the floor, taking Jon with him. They lay side by side, their eyes locked, as time slowed to a standstill.

“Cap’n, I----,” Trip began then the panel on which he’d been working exploded, showering the two men with sparks.

Jon squeezed his eyes tightly shut, thankful that at least he would die with his friend at his side.

******************

Trip opened his eyes and looked around. Sparks still rained down over them, but the ship hadn’t exploded. He sat up then expelled a sigh of relief as the man beside him moved.

“You did it!” said Archer as he sat up beside the engineer.

Trip stood and stepped quickly to the keyboard and monitor. He smiled. The countdown had stopped. He turned around and smiled at the captain who still sat on the floor then he reached out to pull the older man to his feet.

“Trip, your hand,” gasped Archer. He pushed himself up then stood, taking Trip’s hand carefully in his own. “You’re burned.” He reached for the engineer’s other hand then frowned when he saw that it was burned as well.

“Got a little toasty working on those circuits,” Trip hissed through gritted teeth. “It’s nothing, Cap’n. The suit took most of the heat.”

“Your gloves are melted to your hands, Trip. You’ve got to be in pain.”

Trip grimaced as Archer jostled him slightly. “It’s okay,” he replied as he bit down on his lower lip. He tasted blood.

Archer’s brows furrowed. “We need to get you to Phlox. These look bad.”

The engineer looked beyond Archer to the hatch. “That may not be so easy.” He motioned with his head. “That hatch is welded shut. I’m not sure our phase pistols will be of much use.”

Archer gently released Trip’s hands then turned and knelt at the hatch. “You’re right. We’re going to need a plasma torch.” He hit his comm. button and hailed Enterprise.

Trip knelt beside him, his jaw set against the increasing pain radiating from his hands.

“T’Pol. Captain, are you alright?”

“We’re okay, Trip managed to shut down the destruct sequence, but we could use some help getting out of here.”

“We’re returning to your location now, Captain. I’ll send over a team right away.”

“Make it fast, Sub-commander. Trip’s been hurt.”

“Understood.”

Archer released the button. “I wonder if it’s even worth our time to see if there’s any information in their database.”

Trip stood and moved back to the keyboard. He tapped a key gingerly then cursed softly.

“Here, let me,” offered Archer as he appeared at Trip’s elbow. The captain hit the keys and the monitor flickered then died out. “Just as I thought,” he muttered.

“A pretty ingenious trap, if you think about it,” offered the engineer. “Have the Xindi tried this before?”

Archer shook his head. “No, but we’ve never been so close to where they’re building the weapon either. Makes me wonder what else we’ll come across.”

Trip tried to suppress a gasp as the burning in his hands increased. He felt slightly nauseous from the pain.

“Hey,” said Archer gently. “Let’s sit you down.”

Trip looked at the captain, noting the deep concern in his eyes. He allowed Archer to guide him to a scorched wall then let the captain lower him carefully to the floor.

Archer sat next to him, his shoulder pressed to Trip’s. “We’ll have you to Phlox in no time.”

Trip propped his hands up on his knees. “It’s not so bad, Cap’n.”

Archer shook his head. “You are so stubborn,” he teased.

“No I’m not.”

“Even your mother agrees. She always told me, Jonathan, you’ll never find a more stubborn individual than my son.”

Trip started slightly. “You know my mother?”

“Of course I do. We’ve been friends for---.” Archer stopped suddenly then sighed. “I’m sorry, Trip. Sometimes I just forget that you don’t remember everything like I do.”

“I wish I could, Cap’n.”

Archer turned his head and smiled. “Give it time,” he said gently.

Trip leaned his head back in his helmet. “Didn’t I make any personal logs?”

“You’re more the type for pictures,” replied the captain. “Phlox and I felt it best to keep your logs and photo albums inaccessible until he could figure out how to help with the headaches. He felt it would be too much for you right now.”

“I guess I can understand that,” agreed Trip reluctantly. He shivered.

“Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a little.”

Archer leaned over him. “Let me adjust the suit’s internal controls, see if we can warm you up.” He pushed some buttons. “Better?”

Trip shivered again. “Still kind of cold.”

Archer fixed his eyes on Trip’s as he depressed his comm. “Archer to T’Pol.”

“Go ahead.”

“How long before you have us out of here?”

“Ensign Mayweather and an engineering team have just docked with your shuttle, Captain. Is there a problem?”

“Just get us out of here, Sub-commander. And have Dr. Phlox waiting in the launch bay.”

“Understood.”

Trip felt his body trembling. “Can’t this thing get any warmer?” he asked.

Archer rolled onto his knees at Trip’s side. “I’ve got it as high as it’ll go, Trip.”

The commander nodded and closed his eyes.

“So how are your sessions going with T’Pol?” asked Archer.

“Okay, I guess. They’ve really helped me sleep. She’s a good lady, Cap’n. I’ve never been around a Vulcan like her before. I like her, I like her a lot.” There was no reply so Trip opened his eyes to find an odd expression on the captain’s face. “Something wrong?”

“No, no,” Archer replied, quickly hiding a smile. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m glad you two are getting along.”

Both men turned their heads when the hatch was pushed open and Travis’ concerned face appeared.

*******************

“I assure you, Captain. Commander Tucker will be just fine,” insisted Dr. Phlox.

“I just want to see him, Phlox.”

“I’ll call you when he awakens.”

Archer’s brows furrowed. “You mean he’s unconscious?”

“I sedated him, Captain. The dermal-regenerating process is a profoundly uncomfortable one. I thought it best if he slept through it.”

“Then he’s going to be alright.”

Phlox pursed his lips. “Yes, his burns were severe but the process went quite smoothly. He’ll be back to work in a day or so.”

Archer expelled a long breath and Phlox could see the captain’s tension evaporate before his eyes.

“Can I see him?”

Phlox sighed. “Alright,” he replied then he led the captain behind a drawn curtain to where the commander lay sleeping, his bandaged hands resting across his stomach.

Archer gazed down at the peaceful man without uttering a word.

“How are you doing, Captain?” asked Phlox.

Archer didn’t look up. “I’m fine. I wasn’t hurt.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

The captain rested his hand on Trip’s shoulder.

“This can’t be easy for you,” Phlox continued.

Archer smiled sadly. “You want to hear something ridiculous? At first, I thought Trip’s amnesia was a blessing in a way. If he couldn’t remember all the years we shared then I thought it would some how make it easier for me to keep my distance from him. You know, in case---well, in case something happened.” The captain snorted softly. “The only problem was---I still remember.”

Phlox smiled his understanding.

“I tried not to let him in again, Phlox. But it was impossible.”

“Sometimes it’s simply fate, Captain. You and Commander Tucker were supposed to be friends.”

Archer removed his hand from Trip’s shoulder then gently patted his arm. “I guess so,” he replied with affection. He looked up at the doctor. “Let me know when he’s awake?”

“Of course, Captain.”

*******************

PART FOUR

*******************

“You seem troubled this evening,” said T’Pol as she pressed her fingertips into Tucker’s shoulders. “Is there something you’d like to discuss?”

Tucker opened his eyes then shook his head.

“Are your hands bothering you?”

Again, the commander shook his head. T’Pol glanced down at the bandages that were still wrapped protectively around Tucker’s burned hands. She noticed his fingers flexing where they lay in his lap then she looked up again at him with lifted brows.

Tucker sighed. “Alright,” he relented quietly. “One of my crew said something today, mentioned someone, actually.”

“Someone?”

“Yeah. Sim.”

T’Pol inhaled quickly. “Sim?” she asked.

The commander nodded then shifted on his knees. “Who was he?”

“This crewman didn’t tell you?”

Tucker shook his head. “But he looked kind of uncomfortable, like he’d let something slip.”

T’Pol slid her hands from Tucker’s shoulders then let them settle in her lap. She turned her eyes to the candle that burned to her right.

“T’Pol?” prompted Tucker.

“Sim was your clone, Commander,” replied the sub-commander. She looked back at the man who sat knee to knee with her. “You were fatally injured in an accident. Dr. Phlox created Sim in order to save you.”

Tucker looked suddenly wary. “Am I Sim then?”

“No,” replied T’Pol. “But you carry a part of him with you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Dr. Phlox created Sim then harvested his brain tissue to save your life.”

Tucker stood. “He did what?” he asked incredulously as he looked down at her. He swallowed. “What---what happened to him, T’Pol? Where is he now?”

T’Pol hesitated, a feeling of trepidation rising in her stomach. “He is dead, Commander.”

Tucker inhaled sharply then took a step backwards. “Dead,” he whispered. “Because of me?”

The Vulcan stood. “No, not because of you, but because of this mission.”

“So Phlox chose my life over Sim’s?”

“Captain Archer felt that---,” T’Pol began.

“The cap’n agreed to this?” asked Tucker. He took another step back and shook his head. “I never wanted anyone to die for me, T’Pol.”

“I’m aware of that, Commander. Please let me explain---.”

“What’s there to explain? Someone died so that I could live, plain and simple. Isn’t that right? And I can’t even remember who he was.” Tucker ran a hand back through his hair. “I can’t remember anything because I was too weak to resist those bastards!” His bandaged hands balled into fists at his sides. “If I’d only been stronger, maybe---.”

“You are not weak, Commander.”

“But I am, T’Pol,” replied Tucker. He stopped suddenly then he squeezed his eyes shut. He brought his fingers up to massage his temples.

T’Pol stepped toward him and took his arms. “Commander?”

Tucker pulled away from her. “I can’t even remember who he was,” he repeated. “Damn it,” he cursed and he bit his lip.

“Take deep breaths,” urged T’Pol as she watched his face.

Tucker gasped then he doubled over and dropped to his knees.

T’Pol knelt beside him then quickly stood and moved to her comm. panel. “T’Pol to Dr. Phlox.”

“Yes, go ahead.”

“I have a medical emergency in my quarters, Doctor. It’s Commander Tucker.”

“I’m on my way.”

T’Pol turned back to her companion who still was in obvious pain. She moved to his side then dropped to her knees. Gently, she coaxed him to lie down and then cushioned his head in her lap.

“I can’t even remember him, T’Pol,” Tucker managed. “Why was I so weak?”

Unsure of what to do to comfort the stricken commander, T’Pol simply brushed her hand lightly over his hair and waited for the doctor to arrive.

***************

Trip blinked then he opened his eyes to see the concerned face of Dr. Phlox looking down at him. He shifted then realized his head was being cradled in someone’s lap.

T’Pol.

Trip pushed himself up to a sitting position then wavered slightly.

“How are you feeling, Commander?” asked Phlox.

“The pain’s gone.”

“Ah, good,” replied the doctor. “Have you ever had an attack this severe before?”

Trip shook his head. “No,” he replied then he stood. “I’m fine now, Doc.”

“Thank you for getting here so quickly, Doctor,” T’Pol said as she rose to her feet.

“If I may ask, what triggered this attack?”

“I was just trying to remember someone,” replied Trip briskly.

T’Pol looked up at him. “And he was wondering if he could have resisted the torture,” she added.

“Ah,” replied Phlox. “As I’ve told you before, there was nothing you could have done, Commander. I’ve read all of Dr. Kavoc’s reports. After the Andorians retrieved you, Kavoc discovered your system was flooded with a variety of chemicals, some psychotropic in nature, others unidentifiable. With the use of these drugs in conjunction with the physical abuse, you simply did not stand a chance against them.”

“Maybe,” Trip said dejectedly. He reached for his shirt which hung over T’Pol’s chair and pulled it on. “I’m kinda tired, Sub-commander. Mind if we call it a night?”

“We’ve only completed one posture,” replied T’Pol. “You may have trouble sleeping, Commander. I recommend at least---.”

Trip put his hand up to stop her. “Thanks, T’Pol, really. I just need to be by myself for a while.”

T’Pol held his eyes for a long moment, an odd mixture of emotions swirling in their darkness, then relented with a nod of her head.

Trip smiled weakly then left the Vulcan with a very confused looking Denobulan.

******************

Malcolm Reed yawned unceremoniously as he entered the gym then he stopped. “Commander?”

Trip looked over at him from the treadmill on which he was running. “Evening, Lieutenant,” he replied breathlessly.

The armory officer moved to the row of hand weights that lined one side of the gym. “You’re up awfully late, sir.”

“Wasn’t tired,” replied the engineer. He took one corner of the towel that rested around his neck and wiped his forehead.

Malcolm picked up two weights, one in each hand, and began light bicep curls. As he warmed up his muscles, he watched the commander in his peripheral vision. His friend appeared to be running a marathon, and a fast one at that, Malcolm decided.

Finally, after several moments at a torrid pace, Trip hit the controls and slowed slightly to a nice jog. He wiped his face again with his towel.

“Are you alright?” asked Malcolm.

Trip nodded. “Fine,” he replied curtly.

Malcolm put down his weights and moved to the front of the treadmill. “If you don’t mind my saying, Commander, you don’t seem fine.”

The engineer looked up. “I do mind, Lieutenant.”

Malcolm nodded apologetically and took a step backwards. “All right, sir,” he said as he turned.

“Hey, wait. I’m sorry, Malcolm,” sighed Trip. He hit the button and the treadmill stopped. Malcolm watched as he leaned heavily on the display panel then wiped his face again.

The lieutenant stepped forward. “Maybe I can help,” he offered gently.

Trip smiled weakly and shook his head. “I doubt anyone can,” he replied.

“Commander?”

Trip sighed again. “What do you know about Sim, Malcolm?”

The armory officer swallowed. “Sim? What do you want to know?”

“Tell me about him.”

Malcolm shrugged. “I really didn’t spend too much time with him. I know he saved your life, though.”

“Was it by choice?” Trip asked, his eyes piercing Malcolm’s.

“That’s how I understood it, Commander. What’s this all about?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” asked Malcolm.

Trip moved to a bench and sat down. Malcolm hesitated then followed him, sitting down beside him. He waited silently, watching as the commander stared at his bandaged hands.

“The captain didn’t make him do it, did he?” Trip asked finally, his voice so quiet Malcolm had to strain to hear him.

Malcolm paused. He’d often wondered that himself over the past few weeks, but had never had the courage to ask. Archer had surprised him with some of his actions in the Expanse and Malcolm had finally decided it was best if he didn’t know exactly what had happened with Sim.

“Malcolm?”

The lieutenant sighed. “You know him better than I do, Commander,” he replied lamely.

“No, I don’t,” said Trip. “I’ve only known him for a few weeks, Malcolm. I don’t remember him or our friendship.” He stood and began to pace, his frustration palpable. “I need to know what happened.”

Malcolm stood. “Why?

“Why?” repeated Trip, his voice filled with surprise. “Because a life was created to save mine, Malcolm. A life that was just as valuable as mine. If I was at death’s door, why did Phlox even perform an operation? Why didn’t he just let me die?”

The lieutenant reached out and took Trip’s arm, staying him. “You don’t know the whole story, Trip,” he replied gently. “Sim’s lifespan was only 15 days.”

“That still doesn’t mean those 15 days weren’t important, Malcolm. And did Phlox even try to see if he could live longer or was he just spare parts to him?”

“That isn’t fair to Phlox, Trip.”

“Maybe not, but you didn’t answer my question.”

“From what I gathered, there was only a minute chance he could live a longer life.”

“But there was a chance?”

Malcolm nodded. “I don’t know all the facts, though.”

“Probably because the captain and the good doctor didn’t want you to know.”

“They’re not monsters, Trip.”

The commander looked at his feet and sighed. “I’m sorry,” he replied. “Did Sim at least get to experience his life, or was he locked away in sickbay?”

“I’d say he experienced his life. In fact, he saved the ship just like you would’ve done.”

Trip’s head snapped up and he locked eyes with Malcolm’s. “So he had my knowledge?”

Malcolm hesitated and looked away.

“Did he have my knowledge, Lieutenant?” pressed Trip.

The armory officer nodded. “Yes.”

Trip turned on his heel and laughed without mirth. “Oh, this is beautiful,” he spat, then he turned back to Malcolm, his face suddenly pleading. “Why did Phlox and the captain do it, Malcolm? I’m not worth what Sim sacrificed.”

“Trip, there’s so much you don’t remember,” Malcolm began gently.

The engineer squeezed his eyes shut and brought his fingers up to his temples. “I know that,” he replied. “Believe me, I know that.” Then he gasped.

“I’ll get the doctor.” Malcolm turned but stopped when a hand grabbed his arm.

Trip shook his head. “I’m fine. Just give me a minute.”

Malcolm took his friend’s elbow and led him back to the bench where they both sat down. After a moment, Trip dropped his hands back into his lap and his shoulders sagged. He shook his head, but remained silent.

“What would you do,” Malcolm began gently. “If your brother was fighting for his life and his doctor told you the only chance to save him was to create a clone?”

Trip turned his head and met Malcolm’s eyes.

“Then when this clone was created, it turned out he had all your brother’s memories and mannerisms,” the lieutenant continued. “Would you accept the clone because he was a healthy version of your brother, or would you ask the doctor to perform the operation?”

“He’s my brother, Malcolm,” replied Trip. “There could never be a replacement for him. But that isn’t the same thing.”

Malcolm held Trip’s eyes. “Isn’t it?” he asked quietly.

********************

Jon leaned forward, his hands bracing his weight against the situation room display table. “There’s a monitoring station on this planetoid,” he said pointing to a circle on the screen in front of him. “If we set off the alarms, we’ve lost our element of surprise and they’ll know we’re close to Azati Prime.”

T’Pol nodded. “Sensors show it is manned by a contingent of six Reptilians. I’ve been monitoring their communications and thus far, they have made no attempts to send out any messages.”

“So we’re outside their detection range,” said Reed, his arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s what it looks like,” replied Jon. “T’Pol has discovered that when the planetoid rotates and the station is shadowed, their sensors are scrambled. The window is only a few minutes so there’s not enough time to get a shuttle in.”

“Is there enough time to get Enterprise in?” asked Trip.

Jon looked up at his friend.

“Could we get the ship in close enough to transport a team down then still have time to get out of range before the station rotates out of the dark?”

“I believe so,” replied T’Pol. “The timing would have to be impeccable.”

Trip smiled then looked at the helmsman who stood beside him. “Travis can do impeccable, can’t you, Travis?”

“Yes, sir,” replied the ensign.

“That still doesn’t solve our little problem with the monitoring sensors,” interjected Reed. “We can take out the Reptilians, but we still can’t get past those sensors without triggering the alarm.”

“Ah, but I think we can,” replied Trip.

Jon cocked his head and squinted at the commander. “Trip?”

“We can make the sensors think they’re seeing something that isn’t really there. Or in this case, make them think they’re seeing nothing when something IS really there.”

“Simple, but ingenious,” stated T’Pol evenly. “And you’re certain you can do this?”

Trip shrugged. “I’d need to look at the scans you’ve taken, but yeah, I’m pretty sure I can.”

“All right then,” said Jon. “Trip and I will transport with a team of MACOs as soon as Trip’s ready.”

Reed cleared his throat. “I think I should accompany the commander, Captain. We shouldn’t risk losing both of you.”

“I need you at your post, Lieutenant. If something goes wrong, I need to know you’re ready at weapons. Understood?”

Reed pursed his lips. “Aye, sir,” he replied reluctantly.

“I can lead this mission, Cap’n.”

Jon looked over at Trip. “You’re going to have your hands full, Trip. Now how much time do you need to get ready?”

“If T’Pol’s willing to help,” the engineer replied with a quick glance at the Vulcan at his side. “Maybe an hour?”

The captain nodded. “Dismissed.” He watched as his officers left the situation room.

T’Pol turned to leave then stopped. “There is no logical reason why you should be on this mission, Captain. As Science Officer, I would be able to offer more support to Commander Tucker,” she said.

“My reason is logical to me, T’Pol.”

“Do you not trust that I would look out for his safety?”

Jon looked at his first officer in surprise.

“It is a pattern I have observed, Captain. You are very protective of Commander Tucker.”

“I’m protective of my entire crew, Sub-commander. You included,” Jon replied firmly.

T’Pol nodded. “I just want you to be aware that I would not allow any harm to come to him---if I were to lead this mission.”

Jon couldn’t help but smile. “I know that, T’Pol.” Then he sighed. “We’re going in there with our phase pistols set to kill, you know.” He looked down at the display of the tiny planetoid. “I remember the first time Trip ever had to kill anyone. I know what it did to him, how he reacted. Since he’s the best choice for this mission, I think I’m the best choice to accompany him.” He glanced up and met T’Pol’s eyes. “I know I’m taking a risk, T’Pol. But right now, this is what I need to do not as his captain, but as his friend. Do you understand that?”

The Vulcan tipped her head to the side. “Understood,” she replied softly then she turned and entered the command center to join Trip.

Jon looked back down at the planetoid. In all their time spent at Starfleet, neither man had ever discussed the possibility of taking another life. Their dreams had been of exploration, of meeting alien species, of forging new friendships. Killing had never been a part of those talks.

The captain sighed sadly. They had both been too naïve thinking that there weren’t species like the Xindi in the universe. He straightened his uniform then headed off the bridge to brief Major Hayes on their plans.

****************

CONTINUED

*****************

Continue to Parts 5 and 6

Return to Parts 1 and 2

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!