This story is set after the Terra Prime events, ignoring TATV. Loads of cookies to my beta readers, Gabi2305 and RoaringMice

§ 1 §

When Malcolm put his head inside the shuttlepod, Trip was already there, busy doing pre-flight checks.

"Commander," he greeted, automatically going into professional gear. Smirking, he tried to convince himself that the unconscious choice had been dictated by their imminent mission, rather than by the withdrawn mood in which Trip had fallen since his daughter's death, a few weeks before.

Trip, indeed, barely spared him a glance and a nod, silently turning back to the piloting console. With an inward sigh, Malcolm stepped inside and went about his own business, checking supplies and the weapons' array. They worked side by side for nearly twenty minutes, but they might just as well have been on different worlds. And this estrangement of sorts, after four years of sharing with this man more than he had shared with his own family in a lifetime, didn't sit well with him.

"Everything is fine, as far as I'm concerned," Malcolm finally said, swivelling in his chair to face the Engineer. He had to wait long seconds before his words were acknowledged.

"Alright," Trip eventually said, stopping what he was doing and turning. "I'll need another ten minutes." He glanced at the time, then back at Malcolm. "Departure in half an hour. Wouldn't mind if you informed the Capt'n."

"Aye, Sir," Malcolm dutifully replied. He put a slightly provocative accent on the last word, purposefully trying to get a rise out of the man, but it got no response. Just a few weeks ago calling Trip Sir would have earned him a glare and a teasing remark. Malcolm pursed his lips; then pushed to his feet and exited the vessel without another word.

Walking along the corridor towards the turbo lift, he felt the knot of tension in the pit of his stomach tighten. He always did experience a certain amount of anxiety prior to a mission, but this time it was different. This time, if he were honest with himself, it wasn't so much the mission that made him nervous, it was the man he was to carry it out with; he didn't feel overly comfortable going on a mission with Trip. Trip had been through a lot, and even though his physical and psychological integrity had been certified by Phlox, Malcolm wondered if it was a good idea to employ him doing anything other than caring for his beloved engines, just yet. His arm may have healed, but as for his heart, that was another matter.

"Malcolm!"

The voice made him stop and turn. Seeing Hoshi there, he allowed her to catch up with him.

"I've updated a couple of UTs with the latest data available," the Comm. Officer said, handing him the devices.

"Thank you," Malcolm replied, his voice coming out a bit flatter than he had intended.

Hoshi immediately frowned. "What's the problem?"

"Problem? No problem." Lowering his eyes, Malcolm turned the UTs in his hands, well aware of Hoshi's dark and assessing gaze. "Just feeling the pressure of the coming mission." Putting on a smile that he knew was not reaching his eyes, he lifted his gaze again. "Nothing out of the ordinary."

"Take care of yourselves," Hoshi said almost as a warning.

"Always."

Malcolm lost himself for a moment in the Ensign's expressive features. "I must go," he then said, feeling his smile fade. "Got to find Captain Archer."


"Lieutenant." Archer glanced up from his monitor. "Come in, I'll be with you in a minute."

With a sharp nod Malcolm stepped inside the ready room, letting the door swish closed, and stood at parade rest. Automatically, he fixed his gaze straight ahead, but after a while it strayed to his Captain. The man had a concentrated expression on his face and he was suddenly reminded of the Jonathan Archer who had summoned him for a job interview in a San Francisco Starfleet office, more than four years before. That time too Archer had been absorbed in something and made him wait a few moments. That time too there had been a knot in his gut, though one of anticipation. But those two people were gone, replaced by these here now. So many things had changed in himself in four years; and as for the man sitting at the desk, he too was quite a different person.

"All set to go?" Archer asked, finally lifting his eyes to give him his full attention.

At the beginning of their mission the question would have been spoken in a determined if tense tone of voice but by lips shaped into a smile; the frown that creased his Captain's brow now revealed a much less outgoing, more concerned, approach.

"Yes, Sir," Malcolm replied, his voice once again betraying rather more than he would have wanted. Talk of changes: when had he become so inept at hiding his feelings? His face muscles clenched. "We shall depart in about twenty minutes."

The green gaze gradually bore into him as Archer's eyes narrowed. The Captain got up and leaned back against the edge of the desk. "What is it?" he asked directly.

Malcolm stretched his neck uncomfortably, tightening his lips. It was stupid to bring this up now. He should have done so before, when he had first learnt of the mission and of the fact that Trip would be assigned to it. He had wanted to voice his concerns directly to the Engineer; but the man had been keeping him – like everybody else – at arm's length. And going to the Captain… that would have looked like he was acting behind Trip's back.

Well, now he was here and it was too late to deny the truth. Archer was too attuned to his senior officer's feelings to have any chance of successfully lying to him. Besides, he had lied to him once, and it hadn't been fun. He wasn't going to hurt them both like that again.

"Lieutenant?"

"I am… slightly concerned about Commander Tucker, Sir," Malcolm said, forcing himself to hold his C.O.'s probing eyes.

Archer's mobile features immediately reflected his soul, becoming almost pained, and Malcolm felt compelled to shift his gaze away; but after a moment he felt equally compelled to return it to the other man.

"I am just wondering if he doesn't need more time to recover from… his loss, before getting involved in a mission of this sort, Captain," he added, finally making a clean breast.

Archer's brow furrowed. "Are you saying you're worried he might not be up to it?"

Malcolm swallowed uncomfortably. "We don't know how dangerous this mission might prove, and…" He faltered. Briefly closing his eyes, he admitted hoarsely, "I don't quite know what I'm saying, Sir. It's just that… the Commander hasn't been himself since his daughter's death." He studied Archer for a reaction to his words.

Heaving a breath, the Captain broke eye contact and went to the porthole. He raised an arm and propped it against the bulkhead, leaning his forehead on it and looking down at the planet they were orbiting.

"Trip's been through a lot," he said thoughtfully. "It's only natural he wouldn't be the same as before." He paused. "But the Doctor has declared him fit for duty. I can't disregard that. I would wrong him if I did; besides, I think the best thing for him right now is to live as normal a life as possible. That includes going on away missions, even dangerous ones."

"I'm sorry, Captain," Malcolm muttered, feeling torn. "You are probably right."

"Probably?" Archer turned to face him again. "Malcolm, if you are not comfortable going on a mission with Trip, I want to know it."

Malcolm felt his knot tighten some more. On what grounds could he ask his Captain to keep Trip on Enterprise? A vague feeling of unease? What right had he to burden his friend with yet more troubles? For Trip would undoubtedly suffer if Archer revoked his assignment to this mission at the last moment.

"No, Sir. It's fine," he replied firmly, holding the green eyes.

Archer studied him for another long moment; then nodded. "Be careful down there, Lieutenant."

Some things, even after four years, had not changed an iota: namely Archer's fatherly concern for his crew.

"Yes, Sir," Malcolm replied. Forcing a smile, he added, "Trust me, Captain, I'm planning on bringing us back in one piece."

TBC