Dear Cortana Hansen, thanks for your review and in particular many thanks for the tip with the paragraphs. I hope it's better that way now.
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Trip hurried down the long corridor to the quarters of his best friend. T'Pol's hints got him something. Especially because she worried so obviously about the Captain. There were a few exhausting days behind the Enterprise and her crew. Maybe this was noticeable now. She sounded as though she did not believe in coincidence. He had reached the quarters and pressed the bell. Trip waited some time and rang again. Still nothing. Maybe Jon had already laid down? He stood indecisively at the door T'Pol seemed very convinced that something was wrong. What if she was right? On the other hand, the captain was actually reasonable enough to visit Phlox, if it was really necessary ... Torn inside, he stepped from one leg to the other. If he were going now, he would not be able to keep his eye on the whole night. He would just take a look at the quarters. Quiet and without arousing his friend. He only hoped that Porthos would not sound an alarm. As soon as he had finished the thought, he heard something in the room. He turned his head and listened more closely. Was that Porthos whining? A yapping made him take a step back. The Beagle was right outside the door and had noticed the visitor.
Trip entered his access code and carefully opened the door, feeling that the little dog had stormed straight out of the quarters. But the dog was nowhere to be seen. "Porthos?" He called and stepped into the room. He looked empty. The bed was still made and the casual clothes were still neatly folded on the bedside table. Maybe the captain had actually gone straight to the doctor? He bent down to Portho's bowl and filled it with dried food. When he turned it off, the beagle came rushing up to him. He yapped twice as if he wanted to invite him to play. "No, not now, Porthos. I still have something to do. Jon would have to come any moment. Lie to your place, Porthos."
But the otherwise obedient dog intensified his efforts. He grabbed the waistband of his pant leg and pulled on it. "Porthos! Out! What's that about? First T'Pol, who behaves so strange and now you too! What's that for?"
The Beagle looked at him with his big eyes and took a few steps backward. "That's good," said the chief engineer, turning to leave. Porthos came up to him again and pulled on his trouser leg again, as if he did not want to let him go. "For heaven's sake, Porthos. What does .. "
He was interrupted by a loud rattle coming from the adjoining bathroom. "Jon?" He called in alarm. He jumped over the dog who was still standing in front of him and walked around the bed and into the bathroom. "Jon?" His friend was curled up on the floor. His face was consumed with pain and shone feverishly. "Jonathan?" Quickly he was at his side and helped him sit up. He had his eyes closed. "Trip?" He whispered weakly. "Jon, I'm with you. What happened? "
" I am ... bad ...". Trip noticed how his friend's skin color changed from white to pale green and lifted the toilet lid. Not a second too early. The chief engineer propped up the captain, who was shaken by convulsions as he vomited. With his left hand he opened the tap on the sink and threw in a few washcloths. He flushed the vomit down the drain and leaned his friend against the cool wall. Then he put his wet rag on his glowing forehead and with the other he cleaned his face. "Jon, we should see that you come to the sick bay."
He helped the captain, who resisted, to his feet and waited until the dizziness had subsided a bit before they made their way to the sick bay.
Commander Tucker supported the almost unconscious Captain as they entered the sick bay. T'Pol hurried to the left side of the captain. "Put him down here", Dr. Phlox told them. The captain looked awful and as soon as he lay he curled up as if he had terrible stomach ache. T'Pol informed the Chief Engineer about her discoveries and the implications that might have while Phlox was examining the Captain. "Commander Tucker, do you know if he vomited?" He acknowledged the question with a nod. "Sub-Commander, you were right with your guess. Good that you acted so fast. He was actually poisoned. First we should take care that he is better. In the meantime, the cook knows about the seeds and has secured them accordingly and until Hoshi Commander has reached Commander Shran, it may still take a while. I need to do a gastric lavage first to drain off as much of the poison as possible. This is not going to be a particularly enjoyable thing, since I can not sedate him, as it is usually done. I do not know if the remedy reacts with the poison and I do not want to give it a try. That would be too dangerous for me. So I could use you for some help. We can actually leave him like that. But please hold him so that he can not move. I have to pass two tubes through the esophagus into his stomach. And that's annoying enough if you're not dealing with nausea and vomiting."
He disappeared into one of the back rooms and came back with a funnel, a double hose, a big bucket and several bottles. He told Tucker and T'Pol how to support the captain so he would not hurt himself and Phlox could do his work, which was unpleasant for all parties. Half an hour later, only clear water ran out of the hose, indicating that the stomach was empty.
Concerned, the Denobulan looked at the captain's vital functions, which were still bad, but at least did not continue to sink. "Now it's time to wait. I can not do much more for him at the moment", he said, waddling away to clear away the paraphernalia. Trip took a rag and washed the captain's sweat from his face. He put another on his forehead to cool it. Trip looked up from his friend and looked at the displays on the monitor, which at the same time made a shrill alarm. At that moment, Phlox came back and pressed a button to turn off the noise. "What does that mean?"
"Oxygen saturation has dropped further. Ricin has the property to destroy the red blood cells. As a result, less oxygen can be absorbed", the doctor replied. He reached into a compartment in the wall behind the biobed and pulled out a breathing mask. "That should bring something. But I will give an infusion and a blood transfusion. Then we can only wait. "
The next few hours dragged like chewing gum and were characterized by waiting, hope and anxiety. T'Pol apologized after some time, as she was now needed as commanding officer on the bridge, while Trip did not leave his friend's side. Phlox advised him to lie down for a few hours, but he refused to leave the sick bay. The Denobulaner thus prepared a biobed so that he at least came to rest for a few hours. But peace was unthinkable. The captain's ratings continued to drop, and Phlox was desperate to make an antidote because conventional methods failed. He gave him high-dose analgesics, further blood transfusions and a solution to restore the electrolyte balance. It came to tachycardia, which he tried using a defibrillator to get a grip. Meanwhile, the fever continued to rise. Jonathan Archer got nothing from all this. He had lost consciousness a few hours ago.
The otherwise optimistic doctor saw the despair. He did not know what he should do and try, as he also had to be careful with the medication. Many medications attacked the stomach even more. And he wanted to prevent that. Although he would not give up and continue his efforts to save the captain, but he was at some point with his Latin at the end.
Every now and then T'Pol looked in on the sick bay to inquire about the condition of the captain. She had told Commander Shran what had happened aboard the Enterprise during their last conversation and came to the station with a message. "I just got in touch with the Kumari and told Commander Shran what the reason for our meeting is. The Commander happened the same a few days ago and wanted to inform us about the wrong delivery. Already one day after the meeting of our two ships. However, only now he has managed to contact the Enterprise. The trader who sold him these seeds sits in the Kumari holding cell. But what is more important at the moment is that Andorians have succeeded in developing an antidote. At maximum warp of both ships we meet in about 2.5 hours. Will the captain manage it by then, Doctor?"
The Vulcan said, looking worriedly at the poor vital signs on the monitor. "I want to be honest with you, Sub-Commander. I do not know. We have had to revive him four times in the last few hours. The fever is immensely high and the oxygen saturation is terribly low. You can also read off the other values. Even if he survives until then, I can not judge what the future holds, whether he may have suffered further damage due to lack of oxygen."
The Denobulan bowed his head. Trip sat in a chair by his friend's side with his back to T'Pol and did not realize what he was feeling. He held the captain's hand and regularly cooled his feverish brow.
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