CHAPTER ONE

The whine from the engine was deafening. The stars were whirling dizzily past the forward viewscreen. No matter what Hoshi did, the controls wouldn't respond. The shuttlepod was spinning out of control and there was nothing she could do about it. She only had a moment to brace herself before the impact.

Then everything was gone.

"Why won't she wake up?"

The harsh voice intruded upon the silence in which she was cocooned, bringing her closer to consciousness. But for all the sharpness of it, she realized that while the question was about her, it wasn't directed toward her. She could sense others hovering around her.

"I have no reason, Captain. Perhaps her injuries are too severe. She may have suffered brain damage in the crash."

While the first voice had startled her by its intensity, this second voice, softer and mellifluous yet indifferent, scared her almost to the point of retreating into the silent place once more. The second person didn't care what happened to her; he was merely stating facts.

"I need to find out what she was doing here, Doctor, but I won't be able to if she doesn't wake up."

She could hear the implied threat in the sinister undertone. The speaker was a man who didn't like to be thwarted.

"I could give her a stimulant. That would bring her around."

That was the second voice again, the one the "Captain" had called "Doctor." He sounded intimidated. The captain must be a terrible person to have that effect on someone, she thought groggily.

"Do it."

"I can't guarantee what effect the stimulant will have on her. She will regain consciousness, yes, but perhaps to her greater detriment."

"What do you mean?"

"Generally speaking, when a person doesn't wake after an injury, it means their body is still healing. To wake them prematurely could cause harm."

"Could it kill her?"

For the first time, she heard uncertainty in the captain's voice. He was answered by silence on the part of the doctor. She wished he would answer. They were talking about her. She needed to know what was going on--

A cold pinprick touched her neck, followed by the hiss of an injection. She recognized the sound of a hypospray as her eyes fluttered open against her will. Her heart was racing, blood pounding in her temples.

"It worked," said a man she identified as having the captain's voice as he leaned over her. His cold green eyes held hers. "Who are you? What are you doing here?"

Her mouth worked but nothing came out. Her lungs strained to pull in air, but she couldn't breathe. Her chest felt tight. The edges of her vision began to blur.

As her mind started to slip away, she heard the doctor say, "She's having an allergic reaction to the stimulant!"

The sound woke her. She couldn't place it at first. It was a tinkling noise, like the high notes of a piano's keyboard. But the sound wasn't musical. It was clinky yet delicate, like wind chimes. Or something being stirred, with ice cubes bumping against glass.

Without opening her eyes, she turned her head in the direction of the sound. The slight movement elicited a moan from her. She ached all over, especially the back of her head. She hadn't been aware of the pain until she'd moved.

The clinking stopped. Through the slowly receding waves of pain she heard a new sound. Someone was nearby and was coming closer. Her body suddenly dipped, and she realized she was on a bed, the sheets crisp and cool around her. The person must have sat down on the bed next to her. In contrast to the soothing sheets, she could feel heat radiating from the body near hers.

"Awake?"

She could only moan in reply, but despite her discomfort, she recognized the voice. Thankful that it wasn't the doctor with her, she opened her eyes to see the man with the green eyes. The captain. She stared uncomprehendingly at him as he looked down at her.

"Where--?" It was all she could get out. Her throat, scratchy and dry, refused to cooperate.

"You're in my cabin," he told her. "I wasn't about to leave you to the doctor's care. He doesn't share my concern about you."

There was something ominous in those words. She blinked, trying to focus on his face.

He got up, went over to a table, and returned with a glass. He sat down next to her again and slid one muscled arm behind her to help her sit up far enough to sip some of the liquid from the glass. The first cautious taste from the glass he held to her lips revealed it was tea. Then she was drinking greedily, the ice-cold beverage relieving her parched throat.

He pulled the glass away. "Not too much at once," he said. "It might make you sick, and I'd rather you weren't sick in my bunk."

Startled, she leaned back as far as his arm would allow. He'd said she was in his cabin. It made sense, then, that the bed she was in was his. For some reason, that alarmed her. Coupled with that was the fact that she was in some sort of pajamas, and she didn't remember putting them on. Someone had to have done that for her. Afraid to look at his face, she watched his hand as he placed the glass on a small nightstand next to the bed. Still trapped in his embrace, she watched as that hand came to her chin, lifting it so that she had no choice but to look at him. She couldn't keep the trepidation she felt from showing on her face.

"I'm Jonathan Archer, captain of the Terran Imperial starship, Enterprise," he said, his green eyes glittering coolly. "And you're not getting out of my cabin until you tell me what I want to know."

She swallowed. It was all she could do; she was terrified of him.

His encircling arm pulled her closer until their faces were no more than two centimeters apart. "Who are you?" he demanded.

"I'm..." she squeaked. "I'm..." she tried again, then blinked. She stared unseeingly at him, her thoughts turned inward as she searched for the answer. Unable to find it, her eyes went wide as she focused on him again. "I don't know who I am."