ENTERPRISE
"CONUNDRUM"
by J. B. Tilton
email: aramath@isot.com
Rating: G
Disclaimer: "Star Trek", "Enterprise", and all related
characters and events are the sole property of Paramount Pictures,
Inc., except for those specifically created by me for this story.
This is fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.
* * *
Travis suddenly finds himself completely alone on the
Enterprise.
* * *
ONE
Travis sat up and looked around. He was lying in one of the
corridors of the Enterprise. That was odd. Why would he be doing
that? Maybe he had been walking through the corridor and passed out.
If that had happened, he'd better have the doctor check him out.
There were no other people in the corridor with him. He had no
idea how long he had lain there. He checked the room tags on the
doors around him. He was near sickbay. That was a lucky break. Dr.
Phlox could check him out and make sure he was okay.
As he walked to sickbay he noticed how warm it was. It must be
nearly one hundred degree Fahrenheit in the corridor. He'd have to
let Commander Tucker know the environmental controls were
malfunctioning in that section.
Sickbay was empty. That was unusual. Dr. Phlox was nearly
always in there performing one experiment or other. Not even any of
his assistants were around. Now that was very odd. SOMEONE was
always there to attend t any emergencies that might arise.
Travis checked the chronometer. It read 14:03. He was late for
his shift on the bridge. Other than the stifling heat, he felt fine.
He'd have to have Phlox look him over after his duty shift. He turned
and headed for the bridge.
As he left sickbay he glanced at the temperature gauge on the
wall. It was just changing from one hundred two degrees to one
hundred three degrees. He'd notify Tucker as soon as he got to the
bridge. Apparently more than one section was experiencing
environmental problems.
The corridors were as deserted as sickbay. Especially in the
middle of the afternoon the corridors should have been crowded. But
this time Travis passed no one at all. He took the turbo lift to Deck
One.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, stepping off the lift. "I was in
sickbay but there . . ."
Travis stopped dead in his tracks. He looked around the bridge.
It was totally deserted. Not one station was being manned.
That was impossible. At least two people manned the bridge at
all times. He was scheduled to relieve Ensign Bingham at the helm.
And she was as devoted to duty as he was. She would never have left
the helm unmanned for any reason.
Travis took his seat at the helm. Everything seemed to be in
order. Almost everything, that is. Even on the bridge the
temperature was one hundred three degrees. It would seem the
environmental malfunction was ship wide. Not knowing what else to do,
Travis paged the captain.
There was no response from the captains' ready room. He tried
again. Again there was no response. He tried the captains' quarters.
There was no response from his quarters, either. Then he tried the
captains' private dining room. Still no response. Travis contacted
engineering.
"Bridge to Commander Tucker," he said.
No response.
"Bridge to engineering," he said.
Again, no response.
One by one he tried to contact all of the senior staff officers.
There was no response from anyone. He was starting to get a very bad
feeling. He activated the ship wide channel.
"Bridge to anyone on board the Enterprise," he said.
The seconds ticked by as he waited for a response that never
came.
"Ensign Mayweather to anyone on the Enterprise," he repeated.
"Report to the bridge immediately."
No one responded. A quick check indicated that the equipment
was operating perfectly. That left only two possibilities. One was
that none of the crew was able to respond, which Travis clearly did
not accept. Of the nearly ninety people on board, someone should have
been able to respond. But the second option was just as unacceptable.
No one had responded because there was no one on board to
respond. Travis was completely alone on the Enterprise.
TWO
Travis considered the possibilities of what could have happened.
The most likely was that the entire crew had abandoned ship. Except
that all the escape pods and shuttle pods were still securely in
place. They couldn't have abandoned ship. And they surely wouldn't
have left him behind if they had.
The second possibility was that they had been forcibly removed.
That made as little sense as the first possibility. Captain Archer
would never have surrendered the ship without a fight. And there was
no indication that the Enterprise had been in a battle.
Besides, why remove the entire crew and leave him on board
alone? And why not take the ship, too? If someone had taken the
crew, they would surely have taken the ship to find out its' secrets.
Or at the very least destroyed it to prevent anyone from finding out
what had happened.
Travis checked his console. It didn't make any sense, either.
They were moving at warp five. But he didn't recognize any of the
star constellations. Even if they were in a different part of the
galaxy, he should have recognized at least some of them. The star
patterns he was looking at were completely alien to him.
Travis began to decelerate the ship. He didn't want to go any
farther until he was able to figure out what was going on. And the
ships' engines couldn't withstand operating at warp five for very
long.
Except the controls didn't respond. The Enterprise continued to
move through space at warp five. Travis tried the backup circuits and
even the manual override. Nothing worked. No matter what he did, he
couldn't alter thee ships' course or speed.
That was dangerous. Even though the engines were rated for warp
five, it was the extreme range of their speed. They couldn't keep it
up for long. Eventually they would overload, destroying the
Enterprise in a massive explosion.
Travis quickly checked each of the other stations on the bridge.
They were all the same. Nothing seemed to work properly. Only the
most minor equipment seemed unaffected.
The chronometer continued to tick off the seconds. The
environmental readout still registered the environment inside the
ship. And the temperature was now one hundred four degrees. It was
uncomfortably warm. If this continued, he would eventually pass out
from the heat.
Travis reached under the tactical console and removed a phase
pistol. Good old Malcolm. Always ready for a scrap. Travis set the
pistol on stun and headed for the turbo lift.
There was nothing he could do on the bridge. None of the
controls responded. But somewhere on the ship there had to be a clue
as to what was going on. Some indication of where the crew was.
Travis decided to start in engineering. If he couldn't find
anything there at least he might be able to restore control to the
ship. Or reset the environmental controls. As T'Pol would say, it
would be the logical place to start.
But he would swing by sickbay first. He was operating blind.
One of the doctors' medical tricorders would help him locate anyone
who was still on the Enterprise. A few simple adjustments and he
would be able to scan for several meters in any direction. At the
very least he'd be ready if someone tried to attack him.
Apprehension was growing in him. Even if he did find someone on
board, he couldn't be sure if they were friendly. Or if he'd even be
able to communicate with them. Without Hoshi to translate it would be
difficult to establish any kind of communication.
Travis moved cautiously through the corridors of the ship, phase
pistol at the ready. The silence, which met him, reminded him of some
ancient tomb. A feeling he hoped would not prove to be prophetic.
THREE
Travis had no better luck in engineering than he had on the
bridge. All the controls seemed to be frozen. He couldn't alter the
ships' course, speed, or environmental controls. And the internal
temperature of the ship was now one hundred five degrees. In only two
hours the temperature had risen three degrees.
But the ships' engines had been operating at warp five for all
that time. Why hadn't they overloaded by now? They weren't designed
to sustain that speed for this length of time.
Travis spun, pistol at the ready. Had he heard voices? Vague,
indistinct voices as if someone were whispering. He hadn't been able
to make out any words and they hadn't been distinct enough for him to
recognize the voices.
He scanned the area with the tricorder. The only life form
registering was his own. Maybe the isolation and high temperature
were beginning to make his imagination work overtime. Hearing sounds
where there weren't any.
Travis spun again. That time he was sure he had heard voices.
Still the tricorder registered only his life readings. Which meant
whoever it was must either be out of range of the tricorder or was a
life form the tricorder wasn't designed to pick up.
Cautiously Travis made his way toward where he thought he had
heard the voices. If someone was whispering, it probably meant there
were at least two of them. Maybe more. And they were trying very
carefully not to be seen or found.
He found no one in engineering. Which didn't make any sense.
If they had left, he would have heard the hiss as the doors opened and
closed. He hadn't heard that hiss. Which could only mean he must
have imagined hearing the voices. The isolation, uncertainty of the
situation, and the rising temperature of the ship were beginning to
affect him.
He left engineering and headed for the mess hall. He needed to
replenish the fluids he was loosing from the heat. That might help to
alleviate some of his hallucinations a bit.
Travis stopped in the middle of the corridor. There were those
voices again. Mostly vague and indistinct. His tricorder still
didn't register any life form but his own.
But this time her had heard his name mentioned. At least, it
sounded like his name. And it had sounded almost like Captain
Archers' voice. Was the Captain still on board? Perhaps injured,
lying in some corridor somewhere, calling out for help?
"Captain, is that you?" called Travis into the corridor ahead.
His voice reverberated off the bulkheads. He waited for a
response, but none came. The corridor was as silent as before.
"Captain Archer," called out Travis again, "it's me, Travis.
Where are you, Captain?"
Again he was met with only silence. Still his tricorder
registered only him in the corridor. He was still alone. Convinced
he had only imagined the voices, he continued on to the mess hall.
The water helped but only a little. The stifling heat was
becoming more than uncomfortable. And he was no closer to stopping
the ship or discovering the whereabouts of the crew than he had been
two hours ago.
He did have one option left to him. He could jettison the warp
core. That would take the ship out of warp drive. The automatic
reset would engage, possibly restoring control of the environmental
controls.
It could also leave him years from the nearest habitable planet.
The impulse drive couldn't get the ship anywhere near light speed.
And as far out as they apparently were, it could take another Star
Fleet ship decades or even longer to reach him. Assuming he could
even contact Star Fleet Command. He could well spend the rest of his
life alone in deep space.
Jettisoning the warp core would be his last option. And then
only if it became absolutely necessary. Before that happened, he was
determined to find some other way to restore control to the ship. And
to locate his missing crewmates.
FOUR
Travis was starting to become lethargic. It was hard to
concentrate. Hard to remember what he had to do next. All he wanted
to do was close his eyes and sleep. But he knew he couldn't do that.
It had been just over four hours since he had awakened in the corridor
outside sickbay. He knew that if he closed his eyes, he'd never open
them again.
The Enterprise still raced through space at warp five. Why?
Why hadn't the engines exploded long ago? They couldn't take that
kind of strain. Still, they continued to operate, pushing the ship
farther on.
Travis had long ago decided to ignore the voices he was hearing.
He could never locate them. And his tricorder continued to register
no life forms but his own. In the end, he could only conclude he was
simply imagining the hushed whispers always just out of range.
His degrading condition concerned him. Why was he slipping so
quickly? Obviously the human body couldn't tolerate his present
circumstances indefinitely. But it had only been four hours. He
shouldn't be so debilitated so quickly.
These thoughts slipped from his mind. The voices had returned.
He imagined Dr. Phlox calling to him down a long tunnel. He couldn't
make out the words but he imagined it was the doctors' voice. And
there was the ever-present sound of Captain Archers' voice. Even
though he knew they were hallucinations, they were comforting to him.
As if he wasn't alone on the ship after all.
The turbo lift doors opened onto the bridge. Travis stumbled
out of the lift, nearly loosing his footing. He caught himself on the
arm of Archers' command chair. He was so tired. He needed to rest,
if even for just a few minutes.
Travis slumped down into the command chair. His phase pistol
and tricorder glittered to the floor. He made a token effort to
retrieve them, and then leaned back in the chair. It was very
comfortable. He would sit here for just a few minutes to regain his
strength. He was so tired, so tired.
For an instant Travis imagined Captain Archer standing over him.
He smiled weakly. First, he was having auditory hallucinations, now
there were visual ones. Just a minute or two of rest, then he would
continue his search of the ship. Without ever realizing it, Travis
lost consciousness.
* * *
"Travis? Travis, can you hear me?"
Travis opened his eyes and saw Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox
standing over him. He was lying on one of the biobeds in sickbay.
The temperature seemed to have returned to normal. Travis tried to
sit up but Archer stopped him.
"Easy, Travis," said Archer. "You've been through a lot. Just
lie there and rest."
"Welcome back, Ensign," said Phlox, looking over a medical PADD.
"The fever has broken. I would say the worst is over, Captain. What
Ensign Mayweather needs most now is rest."
"Captain, what happened?" asked Travis. "You and the rest of
the crew vanished. I was alone on the Enterprise."
"Merely a fever induced delusion, Ensign," said Phlox. "You've
been in sickbay since your return from the planets' surface."
"You've been unconscious for nearly six hours," said Archer.
"The doctor says it was a reaction to an insect bite."
"It was touch and go, as you humans say," said Phlox. "Lucky
for you I was able to isolate the toxin in time and was able to
synthesize an antidote."
"Insect bite?" questioned Travis.
"Some short term memory loss is perfectly normal in humans
involving high fever," Phlox explained to Archer.
"We were investigating a planet," Archer explained to Travis.
"You suddenly collapsed. The doctor says you suffered an insect bite
and had an allergic reaction to it. We thought we were going to loose
you."
"Your temperature reached one hundred five degrees," said Phlox.
"Perfectly normal for a Rendosian, but extremely dangerous for a
human. Rest now, Ensign. You need to regain your strength."
"Captain," Travis began to protest.
"You do as the doctor says," said Archer. "That's an order.
The bridge isn't going anywhere and you need to get better. You gave
us quite a scare."
"Yes, sir," said Travis. "Sorry about that, sir."
"Just get better," said Archer. "I need my best helmsman on the
bridge."
After Archer left sickbay, Travis lay on the bed thinking about
his dream. It had seemed so real. He had been convinced he was alone
on the Enterprise, hurtling through space, when all along he had been
in sickbay.
Right now he was tired. With the "crisis" now passed, he could
sleep as long as he wanted to. He rolled over on the bed and closed
his eyes to rest up from his ordeal. This time he was sure there
would be no phantom voices calling to him from the distance.
The End
If you've enjoyed this story, you can find more "Enterprise"
stories at my website, www.geocities.com/aramath/ . You can also post
your own "Enterprise" stories if you like to write fan fiction.
"CONUNDRUM"
by J. B. Tilton
email: aramath@isot.com
Rating: G
Disclaimer: "Star Trek", "Enterprise", and all related
characters and events are the sole property of Paramount Pictures,
Inc., except for those specifically created by me for this story.
This is fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.
* * *
Travis suddenly finds himself completely alone on the
Enterprise.
* * *
ONE
Travis sat up and looked around. He was lying in one of the
corridors of the Enterprise. That was odd. Why would he be doing
that? Maybe he had been walking through the corridor and passed out.
If that had happened, he'd better have the doctor check him out.
There were no other people in the corridor with him. He had no
idea how long he had lain there. He checked the room tags on the
doors around him. He was near sickbay. That was a lucky break. Dr.
Phlox could check him out and make sure he was okay.
As he walked to sickbay he noticed how warm it was. It must be
nearly one hundred degree Fahrenheit in the corridor. He'd have to
let Commander Tucker know the environmental controls were
malfunctioning in that section.
Sickbay was empty. That was unusual. Dr. Phlox was nearly
always in there performing one experiment or other. Not even any of
his assistants were around. Now that was very odd. SOMEONE was
always there to attend t any emergencies that might arise.
Travis checked the chronometer. It read 14:03. He was late for
his shift on the bridge. Other than the stifling heat, he felt fine.
He'd have to have Phlox look him over after his duty shift. He turned
and headed for the bridge.
As he left sickbay he glanced at the temperature gauge on the
wall. It was just changing from one hundred two degrees to one
hundred three degrees. He'd notify Tucker as soon as he got to the
bridge. Apparently more than one section was experiencing
environmental problems.
The corridors were as deserted as sickbay. Especially in the
middle of the afternoon the corridors should have been crowded. But
this time Travis passed no one at all. He took the turbo lift to Deck
One.
"Sorry I'm late," he said, stepping off the lift. "I was in
sickbay but there . . ."
Travis stopped dead in his tracks. He looked around the bridge.
It was totally deserted. Not one station was being manned.
That was impossible. At least two people manned the bridge at
all times. He was scheduled to relieve Ensign Bingham at the helm.
And she was as devoted to duty as he was. She would never have left
the helm unmanned for any reason.
Travis took his seat at the helm. Everything seemed to be in
order. Almost everything, that is. Even on the bridge the
temperature was one hundred three degrees. It would seem the
environmental malfunction was ship wide. Not knowing what else to do,
Travis paged the captain.
There was no response from the captains' ready room. He tried
again. Again there was no response. He tried the captains' quarters.
There was no response from his quarters, either. Then he tried the
captains' private dining room. Still no response. Travis contacted
engineering.
"Bridge to Commander Tucker," he said.
No response.
"Bridge to engineering," he said.
Again, no response.
One by one he tried to contact all of the senior staff officers.
There was no response from anyone. He was starting to get a very bad
feeling. He activated the ship wide channel.
"Bridge to anyone on board the Enterprise," he said.
The seconds ticked by as he waited for a response that never
came.
"Ensign Mayweather to anyone on the Enterprise," he repeated.
"Report to the bridge immediately."
No one responded. A quick check indicated that the equipment
was operating perfectly. That left only two possibilities. One was
that none of the crew was able to respond, which Travis clearly did
not accept. Of the nearly ninety people on board, someone should have
been able to respond. But the second option was just as unacceptable.
No one had responded because there was no one on board to
respond. Travis was completely alone on the Enterprise.
TWO
Travis considered the possibilities of what could have happened.
The most likely was that the entire crew had abandoned ship. Except
that all the escape pods and shuttle pods were still securely in
place. They couldn't have abandoned ship. And they surely wouldn't
have left him behind if they had.
The second possibility was that they had been forcibly removed.
That made as little sense as the first possibility. Captain Archer
would never have surrendered the ship without a fight. And there was
no indication that the Enterprise had been in a battle.
Besides, why remove the entire crew and leave him on board
alone? And why not take the ship, too? If someone had taken the
crew, they would surely have taken the ship to find out its' secrets.
Or at the very least destroyed it to prevent anyone from finding out
what had happened.
Travis checked his console. It didn't make any sense, either.
They were moving at warp five. But he didn't recognize any of the
star constellations. Even if they were in a different part of the
galaxy, he should have recognized at least some of them. The star
patterns he was looking at were completely alien to him.
Travis began to decelerate the ship. He didn't want to go any
farther until he was able to figure out what was going on. And the
ships' engines couldn't withstand operating at warp five for very
long.
Except the controls didn't respond. The Enterprise continued to
move through space at warp five. Travis tried the backup circuits and
even the manual override. Nothing worked. No matter what he did, he
couldn't alter thee ships' course or speed.
That was dangerous. Even though the engines were rated for warp
five, it was the extreme range of their speed. They couldn't keep it
up for long. Eventually they would overload, destroying the
Enterprise in a massive explosion.
Travis quickly checked each of the other stations on the bridge.
They were all the same. Nothing seemed to work properly. Only the
most minor equipment seemed unaffected.
The chronometer continued to tick off the seconds. The
environmental readout still registered the environment inside the
ship. And the temperature was now one hundred four degrees. It was
uncomfortably warm. If this continued, he would eventually pass out
from the heat.
Travis reached under the tactical console and removed a phase
pistol. Good old Malcolm. Always ready for a scrap. Travis set the
pistol on stun and headed for the turbo lift.
There was nothing he could do on the bridge. None of the
controls responded. But somewhere on the ship there had to be a clue
as to what was going on. Some indication of where the crew was.
Travis decided to start in engineering. If he couldn't find
anything there at least he might be able to restore control to the
ship. Or reset the environmental controls. As T'Pol would say, it
would be the logical place to start.
But he would swing by sickbay first. He was operating blind.
One of the doctors' medical tricorders would help him locate anyone
who was still on the Enterprise. A few simple adjustments and he
would be able to scan for several meters in any direction. At the
very least he'd be ready if someone tried to attack him.
Apprehension was growing in him. Even if he did find someone on
board, he couldn't be sure if they were friendly. Or if he'd even be
able to communicate with them. Without Hoshi to translate it would be
difficult to establish any kind of communication.
Travis moved cautiously through the corridors of the ship, phase
pistol at the ready. The silence, which met him, reminded him of some
ancient tomb. A feeling he hoped would not prove to be prophetic.
THREE
Travis had no better luck in engineering than he had on the
bridge. All the controls seemed to be frozen. He couldn't alter the
ships' course, speed, or environmental controls. And the internal
temperature of the ship was now one hundred five degrees. In only two
hours the temperature had risen three degrees.
But the ships' engines had been operating at warp five for all
that time. Why hadn't they overloaded by now? They weren't designed
to sustain that speed for this length of time.
Travis spun, pistol at the ready. Had he heard voices? Vague,
indistinct voices as if someone were whispering. He hadn't been able
to make out any words and they hadn't been distinct enough for him to
recognize the voices.
He scanned the area with the tricorder. The only life form
registering was his own. Maybe the isolation and high temperature
were beginning to make his imagination work overtime. Hearing sounds
where there weren't any.
Travis spun again. That time he was sure he had heard voices.
Still the tricorder registered only his life readings. Which meant
whoever it was must either be out of range of the tricorder or was a
life form the tricorder wasn't designed to pick up.
Cautiously Travis made his way toward where he thought he had
heard the voices. If someone was whispering, it probably meant there
were at least two of them. Maybe more. And they were trying very
carefully not to be seen or found.
He found no one in engineering. Which didn't make any sense.
If they had left, he would have heard the hiss as the doors opened and
closed. He hadn't heard that hiss. Which could only mean he must
have imagined hearing the voices. The isolation, uncertainty of the
situation, and the rising temperature of the ship were beginning to
affect him.
He left engineering and headed for the mess hall. He needed to
replenish the fluids he was loosing from the heat. That might help to
alleviate some of his hallucinations a bit.
Travis stopped in the middle of the corridor. There were those
voices again. Mostly vague and indistinct. His tricorder still
didn't register any life form but his own.
But this time her had heard his name mentioned. At least, it
sounded like his name. And it had sounded almost like Captain
Archers' voice. Was the Captain still on board? Perhaps injured,
lying in some corridor somewhere, calling out for help?
"Captain, is that you?" called Travis into the corridor ahead.
His voice reverberated off the bulkheads. He waited for a
response, but none came. The corridor was as silent as before.
"Captain Archer," called out Travis again, "it's me, Travis.
Where are you, Captain?"
Again he was met with only silence. Still his tricorder
registered only him in the corridor. He was still alone. Convinced
he had only imagined the voices, he continued on to the mess hall.
The water helped but only a little. The stifling heat was
becoming more than uncomfortable. And he was no closer to stopping
the ship or discovering the whereabouts of the crew than he had been
two hours ago.
He did have one option left to him. He could jettison the warp
core. That would take the ship out of warp drive. The automatic
reset would engage, possibly restoring control of the environmental
controls.
It could also leave him years from the nearest habitable planet.
The impulse drive couldn't get the ship anywhere near light speed.
And as far out as they apparently were, it could take another Star
Fleet ship decades or even longer to reach him. Assuming he could
even contact Star Fleet Command. He could well spend the rest of his
life alone in deep space.
Jettisoning the warp core would be his last option. And then
only if it became absolutely necessary. Before that happened, he was
determined to find some other way to restore control to the ship. And
to locate his missing crewmates.
FOUR
Travis was starting to become lethargic. It was hard to
concentrate. Hard to remember what he had to do next. All he wanted
to do was close his eyes and sleep. But he knew he couldn't do that.
It had been just over four hours since he had awakened in the corridor
outside sickbay. He knew that if he closed his eyes, he'd never open
them again.
The Enterprise still raced through space at warp five. Why?
Why hadn't the engines exploded long ago? They couldn't take that
kind of strain. Still, they continued to operate, pushing the ship
farther on.
Travis had long ago decided to ignore the voices he was hearing.
He could never locate them. And his tricorder continued to register
no life forms but his own. In the end, he could only conclude he was
simply imagining the hushed whispers always just out of range.
His degrading condition concerned him. Why was he slipping so
quickly? Obviously the human body couldn't tolerate his present
circumstances indefinitely. But it had only been four hours. He
shouldn't be so debilitated so quickly.
These thoughts slipped from his mind. The voices had returned.
He imagined Dr. Phlox calling to him down a long tunnel. He couldn't
make out the words but he imagined it was the doctors' voice. And
there was the ever-present sound of Captain Archers' voice. Even
though he knew they were hallucinations, they were comforting to him.
As if he wasn't alone on the ship after all.
The turbo lift doors opened onto the bridge. Travis stumbled
out of the lift, nearly loosing his footing. He caught himself on the
arm of Archers' command chair. He was so tired. He needed to rest,
if even for just a few minutes.
Travis slumped down into the command chair. His phase pistol
and tricorder glittered to the floor. He made a token effort to
retrieve them, and then leaned back in the chair. It was very
comfortable. He would sit here for just a few minutes to regain his
strength. He was so tired, so tired.
For an instant Travis imagined Captain Archer standing over him.
He smiled weakly. First, he was having auditory hallucinations, now
there were visual ones. Just a minute or two of rest, then he would
continue his search of the ship. Without ever realizing it, Travis
lost consciousness.
* * *
"Travis? Travis, can you hear me?"
Travis opened his eyes and saw Captain Archer and Dr. Phlox
standing over him. He was lying on one of the biobeds in sickbay.
The temperature seemed to have returned to normal. Travis tried to
sit up but Archer stopped him.
"Easy, Travis," said Archer. "You've been through a lot. Just
lie there and rest."
"Welcome back, Ensign," said Phlox, looking over a medical PADD.
"The fever has broken. I would say the worst is over, Captain. What
Ensign Mayweather needs most now is rest."
"Captain, what happened?" asked Travis. "You and the rest of
the crew vanished. I was alone on the Enterprise."
"Merely a fever induced delusion, Ensign," said Phlox. "You've
been in sickbay since your return from the planets' surface."
"You've been unconscious for nearly six hours," said Archer.
"The doctor says it was a reaction to an insect bite."
"It was touch and go, as you humans say," said Phlox. "Lucky
for you I was able to isolate the toxin in time and was able to
synthesize an antidote."
"Insect bite?" questioned Travis.
"Some short term memory loss is perfectly normal in humans
involving high fever," Phlox explained to Archer.
"We were investigating a planet," Archer explained to Travis.
"You suddenly collapsed. The doctor says you suffered an insect bite
and had an allergic reaction to it. We thought we were going to loose
you."
"Your temperature reached one hundred five degrees," said Phlox.
"Perfectly normal for a Rendosian, but extremely dangerous for a
human. Rest now, Ensign. You need to regain your strength."
"Captain," Travis began to protest.
"You do as the doctor says," said Archer. "That's an order.
The bridge isn't going anywhere and you need to get better. You gave
us quite a scare."
"Yes, sir," said Travis. "Sorry about that, sir."
"Just get better," said Archer. "I need my best helmsman on the
bridge."
After Archer left sickbay, Travis lay on the bed thinking about
his dream. It had seemed so real. He had been convinced he was alone
on the Enterprise, hurtling through space, when all along he had been
in sickbay.
Right now he was tired. With the "crisis" now passed, he could
sleep as long as he wanted to. He rolled over on the bed and closed
his eyes to rest up from his ordeal. This time he was sure there
would be no phantom voices calling to him from the distance.
The End
If you've enjoyed this story, you can find more "Enterprise"
stories at my website, www.geocities.com/aramath/ . You can also post
your own "Enterprise" stories if you like to write fan fiction.