Her skin was warm to the touch, and Jonathan Archer could not bring himself to let it go. Beside him, her body lay unmoving atop a medical bed, her eyes eerily frozen open without any trace of their usual vibrant life, and he had to strain with all his might just to hear her softly breathing. But when he cradled her hand in his own and drew in its unmistakable warmth, all of his doubts rescinded. Hoshi was alive.
"What did this to her?" he demanded.
"It was a most unfortunate accident," T'Pol reported, her concern for the stricken ensign creeping in beneath her otherwise calm Vulcan demeanor. "The Lunarians have offered their sincere apologies."
"I don't understand. This was just supposed to be a first contact mission. There should have been minimal risk."
"The Lunarians evidently possess extremely potent telepathic abilities, which their own minds have evolved to tolerate. Captain, they've had little contact with outsiders. They didn't know, and they had no reason to suspect, that the human mind wouldn't be able to withstand their psychic contact."
"I thought that they communicated verbally. Why was Hoshi on the receiving end of this 'contact'?"
"Their primary method of communication appears to contain a melding of telepathic and verbal components. Ensign Sato was the first to speak to them in close proximity." T'Pol paused as her emotions briefly rose to the surface. She fought them down and pressed on. "It happened quickly. She succumbed before we could intervene."
Phlox concluded his examination and let out a grim sigh. "She has no detectable cerebral activity. Just basic autonomic functions, which I suspect will begin to degrade shortly."
"There has to be something we can do." Archer shot a desperate, disbelieving stare toward Phlox and T'Pol, as if infuriated that he alone was unwilling to accept Hoshi's fate as sealed. "Talk to the Lunarian delegation. Send computer messages if that's the only safe way to communicate with them. I want to know if they've ever encountered this condition before. They must have some idea of how to correct it."
T'Pol shifted uncomfortably, knowing that the hardest part had yet to come. "Dr. Phlox and I have conferred with their foremost physician on the matter. There is a minority segment of the Lunarian population who possess relatively underdeveloped telepathic abilities. They have been known to occasionally fall into a similar, but not identical, state as Ensign Sato when exposed to prolonged telepathic contact from other Lunarians. There is one known treatment."
Before Captain Archer could chime in with hope, Phlox gravely explained his reservations. "It's a highly complex and invasive procedure, Captain. And it has an exceptionally high failure rate, even among the Lunarians. No one has ever performed it on a human before, so we have no idea what to expect. But I'm afraid it only makes it all the more likely that the treatment will fail to revive Ensign Sato."
"If there's any chance at all, we have to try. What do you need to get started?" said the captain.
"The procedure cannot be attempted without the involvement of a second individual," T'Pol explained, as uncharacteristic anxiety began to tremble ever so slightly in her voice. "A link is forged between the damaged mind and a healthy one, which acts as a stabilizing force for the duration of the treatment. Without it, the shock would be too great and the afflicted mind would not survive. But if the procedure fails, as it often does, while that link is still intact… then both individuals would fall victim to the same condition. And there would be no way to bring either of them back."
Captain Archer took a deep breath and held it. Finally, he understood why Phlox and T'Pol had seemed so reluctant to help Hoshi. Doing so would mean placing another member of the crew in considerable danger, and even then they'd have no guarantee that it would do her any good. Enterprise could end up losing two instead of one, and gaining absolutely nothing from the sacrifice.
With absolute resolve in his eyes, the captain gave his order. "Prepare for the procedure. We'll begin as soon as you're ready."
T'Pol didn't need to ask Captain Archer who would be joining Hoshi atop the operating table. The man who had once chosen to pilot the suicide mission against the Xindi super weapon himself rather than condemn a member of his crew wouldn't gamble with anyone's life except his own. While they waited for Phlox to finish his preparations, she contemplated the apparent ease with which the captain had accepted the likelihood of laying down his life for Hoshi.
"You still feel responsible for Ensign Sato, don't you?" she asked. "You convinced her to join Enterprise."
"That was years ago. She could have left any number of times and didn't. That's not why I'm doing this."
"Then perhaps you could explain it to me." T'Pol looked him in the eyes, in a way almost tenderly. "If the procedure does fail, I will no doubt be asked to explain what has happened to Starfleet Command. How can I make them understand your course of action, when I don't understand it myself?"
"You've been on this ship for five years now. You've been around humans. You're in a relationship with one. Don't try to tell me you don't know why I'm doing this." He gave her his gentlest smile to help soothe her nerves. "I'm not going to buy it this time, T'Pol."
"Enterprise has already lost one of its crew today, Captain. And I have already lost one friend. I don't relish the thought of losing another."
"Hoshi isn't lost," Archer snapped. Realizing his unnecessarily harsh tone, he took a step back before going on more softly. "She has a heartbeat. She has a pulse. She's lying right there and when I touch her, I can feel that there's still life inside of her. She's not dead yet, T'Pol. I can't just give up on her, not while she's still drawing breath. Not while there's a chance of saving her. As a member of this crew, I owe her that much."
"What happened to her was an accident. It was most unfortunate, but it cannot be undone. She is so far gone now that I couldn't reach her even with a mind-meld. You're the most valuable man aboard this ship. You have responsibilities that go well beyond your loyalty to Ensign Sato. The chances that this procedure will work at all are astronomically slim. It isn't your place to risk your own life for the sake of just one person." This drew the captain's glare, even though he knew she wasn't wrong. "I'm fond of Hoshi as well. I will grieve for her, the same as you. But it makes no sense for you to die with her. It isn't what she would want."
"Hoshi is unconscious, she doesn't get a vote. And neither do you." Phlox called to the captain from across the room, signaling that he was ready to begin. Archer nodded in response, letting the doctor know he'd be right over. "No one's going to die here today, T'Pol," he said, finishing with a reassuring pat on her shoulder.
As she watched Phlox strap him into position beside the lifeless Hoshi, T'Pol found herself wishing that she could share the captain's faith. It just didn't seem logical.
It struck Captain Archer as ironic that he could approach the perilous procedure with a greater sense of calm than his Vulcan first officer. But T'Pol had never completely recovered from her experiences in the Expanse, and the prospect of losing those close to her always brought her emotions to the surface like nothing else. Archer had faced death many times as captain of Enterprise. He still had a healthy fear of it, but he'd long ago come to terms with the fact that sooner or later, his luck might simply run out. And that thought, unpleasant as it seemed, wasn't half as terrifying as the sight of poor Hoshi Sato, still so young, vital and elegant, now reduced to a hollow, broken shell, waiting to wither into nothing.
"Are you sure about this, Captain?" Phlox asked. Archer responded in the affirmative, without any hesitation.
"The procedure, as explained to me by the Lunarians, will render you unconscious for a time. You may find, however, that you and Ensign Sato develop a rudimentary form of communication across the neural link, assuming that we are correct in our belief that her mind is not beyond saving already. In that event, I'd advise you to divulge as little information to her as possible. There would be no benefit to informing Hoshi of her condition or what we are doing to rectify it, and if she panics or reacts strongly in any way it could disrupt the link. She may even be able to collapse it entirely. This wouldn't do you any harm, but in her present state the resulting shock would almost certainly destroy what's left of her mind and end any hope we have of restoring her to normal."
"Understood, Doctor," Captain Archer said solemnly. He took one last worried glance over at the bed beside him where Hoshi lay, before closing his eyes and allowing Phlox the chance to again prove his unparalleled medical mastery.
Captain Archer opened his eyes to the welcome sight of a beautiful summer's day. He found himself standing in the middle of a lush, well-landscaped garden, one he'd never visited before and yet he felt as if he knew it from somewhere. Overhead stretched a cloudless blue sky and the shining golden orb of earth's sun. In front of him there was a shallow pond, and a familiar-looking figure waiting at the water's edge. The intermittent breeze tugged at her long, flowing locks of hair as she turned to face him, her expression one of powerful relief.
"Captain…" Hoshi said excitedly as she crossed the distance between them. "What are we doing here?"
Unsure of how much she knew, and even more uncertain that anything he said in this place would be heard by the real Hoshi Sato in her stricken state, Archer hesitated to respond. But if this was Hoshi, if this was the form the neural link had taken and she could indeed sense his presence, then saying nothing at all and allowing his silence to alarm her could prove just as dangerous.
"You know this place?" he said in a simple, soothing tone.
"This garden is in Kyoto, not far from where I lived when I was young. My parents used to take me here. Even after all this time, it still feels like home. I remember thinking that when I would come here, I could leave everything else behind. All the worrying, the stress and uncertainty… none of it could touch me here, in this tranquil place." Despite the serenity of her words, unease began to spread across her face. "But we can't be here, can we? This can't be real. I was on another planet. Something happened to me, I…" Unease turned to cold dread. "Am I dead?"
"No," Archer said quickly, eager to dispel the notion. But when the time came to offer her an alternate theory, he was at a loss. Only her sense of rising panic, which he could feel as acutely as she, forced him to risk telling her more. "There was an accident. We're doing everything in our power to fix it. You and I… just need to spend some time here, until everything's back to normal."
Though Archer had intended to leave it at that, Hoshi's inquisitive mind wanted to know more, and while he'd been consciously selective in what he'd revealed to her, the neural link was bound by no such limitations. Everything inside his mind was open to her now, whether he realized it or not, and even though she couldn't comprehend the means by which the information was delivered to her, she drew it from him piece by piece until she understood it all. Her eyes widened in horror.
"Captain, you can't do this. You're in danger."
"There is a risk. It's an acceptable one."
"Not to me it isn't! I know what's going on. I know how much you're risking."
"Then you should also know that I am doing so willingly. And you should know why."
"But I don't," she said, then turned away sharply.
Suddenly, the blue sky faded into black. The land and trees in the distance started to dissolve. The world upon which Archer and Hoshi stood was crumbling, as the link between them was coming undone. Instinctively, praying that it wasn't a futile gesture, Archer reached frantically for her arm and seized hold. For the moment, at least, the link ceased to dissipate.
"This is the only way to save you," he told her sternly. "I have no wish to die today, but I will not stand by and do nothing when there's a member of my crew who needs my help."
"I knew the risks when I came onboard. I accepted the possibility that I could die in the line of duty. If that is to be my fate, then I am asking you to let it be. You have to let me go."
"If you break the link between us now, it'll be suicide."
"But you'll live."
Archer quietly wished that Phlox, who'd clearly underestimated the reach of the neural link, had refrained from giving him, and by extension Hoshi, quite so much information.
"T'Pol was right, you know. Do you think that this is how I want my life to end? By dooming my captain, the man that I…" Her voice gave out, choked by heavy emotion, but that didn't stop the captain from hearing her loud and clear. He released her arm, and she didn't tear herself away again. She simply stood there before him, wiping away the few tears that had escaped from her eyes and struggling to regain full control of her speech. "I don't want you to die for me," she said at last.
The darkness around them resumed its creeping approach. Little by little, everything was fading. Archer didn't know why, he didn't feel like Hoshi was still fighting him. But he suspected that the damage may have already been too severe. He'd clung to hope since the beginning, but maybe it had all been in vain. Silently, he pulled Hoshi close, half in hope of salvaging the link somehow and half merely wanting to keep her near, especially if this were to be the end. In return, she wrapped her arms securely around his waist and leaned her head against his chest.
"We've all lost many things," he said calmly, as if in resignation. "People we love, places we cherish. Even parts of ourselves. We learn to accept it and move on. But sometimes, it all becomes too much. We start to give up too easily. There has to be a line drawn, a point where we realize that we can't just grieve and walk away. Today I realized that I couldn't lose you, Hoshi. There was a chance so I took it, and no matter what the outcome may be, I know that I could never have lived with myself if I had given up on you."
"I know, Jon."
As the darkness closed in, with neither of them sure what it would bring, they found strange comfort knowing that they would face it together.
Hoshi came around slowly, as was to be expected for one in her condition. Hours went by after her eyes first flashed to life before she began to process the sights that they were taking in. For a time, she experienced the world around her in a semi-conscious haze. She was aware of Dr. Phlox standing nearby, going over all of her test results with his widest Denobulan smile. She could vaguely recall Travis, Malcolm, Trip and T'Pol visiting her bedside one after another, each expressing their overwhelming joy, though admittedly and understandably restrained in T'Pol's case, at her near-miraculous recovery.
But her first truly lucid thoughts were of Captain Archer, when, after being released from Phlox's care with a clean bill of health, he stopped by her bed to check up on her.
"So, how much of it do you remember?" he asked.
"As far as I know, all of it," she said, sounding downright embarrassed. "I don't know what to say. After what you did for me, words like 'thank you' just sound so wholly inadequate, don't they?"
"You don't owe me any thanks, ensign. It was all Doctor Phlox's miracle. All I had to do was sit still for a few hours. Besides, I'd have done the same for anyone under my command."
"Yes, I believe you would have," she said with a smile, which he pleasantly reciprocated.
"Get some rest, Hoshi. That's an order," he said, lightly squeezing her hand in comfort as he made his way out of sickbay.
Hoshi watched him go and relaxed deeply into her bed, feeling immensely grateful that the captain's reckless, one-in-a-million shot at pulling her back from the edge of the abyss had not ended up costing him what it so easily could have. Yet she couldn't help but feel touched, in spite of all the things that might have gone wrong, that she now knew precisely how far Captain Archer would go for her, and how much he was willing to risk. Then she silently wished that he'd never need to again.