TITLE: Twins, 7/20, Tu/R, Tu/OMC, pre-slash, AU, PG-13 to NC-17.
AUTHOR: Serit.
PAIRING/S: Tucker/Reed, Tucker/original male character.
RATING: This chapter: Descriptions, R+ to NC-17.
WARNING/S: References to child abuse, prostitution, non-consensual sex, violent assault.
SUMMARY: What if Malcolm Reed had a twin brother that he—and his parents—didn't know about? An alien bazaar like Rigel X is life-changing for Reed and Tucker.
NOTE: Dialog in slashes / / and italics / / is Derek's writing before he can speak again.
2ND NOTE: Derek's memories of a matriarchal Orion culture are based on my theories; word choice is my translation of how these aliens may have referred to themselves.
3RD NOTE: Use your favorite search engine if you'd like to know more about Malcolm's audiobooks. Hint: one book is not real (yet!); extra points to the person/s who PM/s me (on FFN) with why the book and its 'authors' are on Malcolm's 'datapod'!
DISCLAIMER in Chapter 1.


Week Seven, Day Three:

Commander Tucker had bone regeneration treatments for two days in the outer area of Sickbay before Doctor Phlox released him for light duty. Reed argued bitterly with Tucker about holding Derek while his arm was healing. The alien doctor, overhearing their disagreement, eagerly suggested sedating Derek, after the Commander left Sickbay to bring their breakfasts. He had noticed that his upper arms were still bandaged over where his rank tattoos were, and he wanted to ask his brother, his brother Malcolm, how badly he was scarred, but he didn't know how to ask the question without appearing ashamed, or angering his brother. Derek moaned as loudly as he could with the intubation lines in his mouth to get his brother's attention.

Malcolm was at his side in an instant. "Derek, I'm here, it will be all right," he said, grasped his brother's hand, and sat next to him. "Doctor Phlox doesn't mean to alarm you; he doesn't want you to panic when I pour—feed—breakfast to you. Trip will be back soon with our meals." Derek tilted his head, which Malcolm knew was a positive response. "It's all right, Doctor Phlox," he added with a smile, "I think he doesn't like sedatives any more than I do."

The Commander arrived with their breakfasts just as Malcolm made that remark. "Well, if he doesn't," he said, "then let me hol' him; he's been good 'bout stayin' still when you touch him these past coupl'a days." After that, he prepared the liquid part of Derek's meal, and then gently held him. Malcolm poured the liquid breakfast down Derek's esophageal tube, and he stayed motionless. His brother cleaned and bathed him, and Derek quivered with barely-contained anger and arousal, tolerating Commander Tucker's embrace, sensual body heat flooding his torso like a matter/anti-matter cascade shattering a poorly aligned dilithium crystal. After the Commander cheerfully talked at him briefly, then left ICU, Derek dozed in Malcolm's arms.

He dreamt first of his overlooked childhood, the insecurity he felt at school; he dreamt of his aunt and uncle who disregarded his wishes, and their pandering of him to pay space station fees. Finally, the fifteen-year-long indenture to the Orion mercenary militias, which finally neared its end, until the mercenaries accused him of theft and treason, and broke their own tenuous rules to torture him.

Derek Cane dreamt of Sha-ny-ah, the Orion Matriarch of Matriarchs, when She decreed Their secretly acquired information must be taken to the Humans, and he would be Her courier. His last audience was very much like his first audience with Her, when he owned little more than the clothes on his back, two books, and a small first aid kit. She ordered him to strip, and he was unable to refuse Her. He removed his clothing as She demanded, and knelt naked before Her, mortified by his weak body. The other Matriarchs tied his arms behind his back; They put a gag in his mouth and a blindfold over his eyes so he could not see Them as They bound him to a pillar. He struggled and tried to scream as They rubbed Their essence and fascination, Their pheromones, onto his tortured skin. He felt each Daughter aggressively rub Her body against his, and Each stroked, scratched, and probed his genitals until, somewhere during Their torture, he lost consciousness.

He recalled his agonized coughing as he regained consciousness, still naked, but with his arms untied and the gag removed. He was hosed down suddenly with freezing cold water by an ïr-daughter—a scentless, infertile Orion Daughter, used as a servant and messenger by the Matriarchs. The ïr-daughter drove him against a stone wall and battered his body, front and back, with glacially cold pressurized water as sticky, black sludge sluiced off his body. That torment ended as suddenly as it began, and (she) dragged him out the cell's door; his clothes and belongings were on a bench in the corridor; he dressed and gathered his things, and (she) pulled him down the corridor to a side door, where his first militia commander waited for him.

When he had his last audience with the Matriarch, She told him that She, Sha-ny-ah, Matriarch of Matriarchs, would drown him in Her poison, which would make him resistant to Her essence and fascination, and which would free him from Her thrall, Her pheromones, and those of every other Orion Matriarch and Daughter. She ordered him to strip, and again, he was unable to refuse Her. Cane removed his armor, weapons, and clothing, and knelt naked before Her, ashamed of his many scars. The other Matriarchs tied his arms behind his back, and put a blindfold over his eyes to prevent him seeing where They took him. They forced a metal frame into his mouth to keep it open, and carried him to the source of Their Life-giving fluid. He struggled and tried to close his mouth as Their fluid poured onto and into him, into his mouth, throat, lungs, and every other orifice—drowning him until he lost consciousness.

He coughed with agonizing pain as he regained consciousness, his arms untied and the metal frame out of his mouth, and was hosed clean again with freezing cold water by an ïr-daughter. (she) drove him against a wall and pummeled his genitals, front and back, with glacially cold pressurized water as globs of clotted gel rinsed off his body. After the ice-cold flood was turned off, (she) pushed him out the door and threw his clothes at him. He dressed quickly, and was dragged to a side door, where Namir, his qong'ghojwi', waited to guide him through the tunnels to the marketplace and barracks. He remembered what the Matriarch of Matriarchs had said to him during that brief audience—that he was brought to Them to accomplish the Orions' plan for legitimate sovereignty—he realized She had foretold or planned everything he'd experienced.

Derek woke, remembering snippets of his fevered nightmare, and he suddenly remembered why he had to be taken away from Saiph III. He had to tell Malcolm where to find the secret, whatever it was. He woke with a jerk, nearly punching his brother in the stomach with his elbow. He clawed and tugged on Malcolm's uniform, and drew circles on his brother's palm to get his attention.

Malcolm was about to give him the padd when the Commander appeared with the squeaky cart and lunch. Derek wanted to pull the tubes from his mouth and lungs in order to speak, but he endured Commander Tucker's searing embrace. After his lunch was poured into him, Derek tolerated the Commander's grasp and strokes on his chest that made him quake with anger, confusion, and arousal as Malcolm examined his body's attachments.

Finally, Malcolm gave him the direct draw padd and propped it and his arm with pillows so he could write comfortably. / How many days long asleep? / Derek scrawled.

"You were comatose for fourty-two days," Malcolm replied.

The panicked expression returned to Derek's face. / / You all in danger! / /

"No, we'll be fine, we're on Enterprise, you'll be safe here—"

His brother tried to shake his head. / / No, they will follow, ARE following! / /

"Wait, who is following us?" Malcolm asked, now confused.

/ / Slavers, pirates, mercenaries—no time! Do you have my box bag? / /

"Yes, I put it into the gun safe in my quarters as soon as I went there," he said.

/ / Pickup dropoff passengers? / /

"We don't carry passengers, Derek," Malcolm explained, "it's a ship of exploration."

Derek dropped his head back onto his pillow, sighed with relief, then lifted his head again. / / Tell your warlord to go to battle stations, they are following us! / /

Malcolm and Trip glanced at each other: warlord? "Oh, you must mean Cap'n Archer," Trip said, "Starfleet uses Navy ranks." The former mercenary tilt-nodded.

"Derek, I have a hard enough time convincing Captain Archer to implement Security measures when a hostile spacecraft is in front of us," Malcolm exclaimed, "I'm not sure he'll take me—or you—seriously if there's no visible threat."

/ / Threat is real, invisible but real, / / he wrote, / / In box bag, a black stone, like asteroids, inside it is the secret/ /

"What am I to do with it?" Malcolm asked.

/ / It contains the secret, / / Derek printed. / / Put in demolition box, add liquid nitrogen, rock and nitrogen react; as soon as they do, vent and remove the secret. / /

"What is the secret?"

/ / I dont know. I was told it holds the secret. Please get black stone, react it with nitrogen please! / / Derek scribbled rapidly.

"All right, I'll do what you say," Malcolm said, "but I want you to rest; please don't try to take the intubation lines out of your mouth." He moved the datapadd off his brother's bed and removed the pillow under his arm. He then leaned over Derek, gently placed his shaking hands on his face, and kissed his brow. "I wish we had come to Saiph III sooner, before you were accused and jailed. I would have done anything to keep you from being tortured." His brother turned his head away as a lone tear trailed down his face. "Derek, please don't be sad," he embraced his brother, but Derek tried to shake his head. "What's the matter?" His face still averted, Derek closed his eyes and whimpered softly. Malcolm retrieved and turned on the direct draw padd, "Tell me, please."

Derek opened his eyes and wrote slowly, / / ShameI only bring shame and dishonour to your ship-family and blood-family. / / He closed his eyes and his body shook with sorrow.

Malcolm read what his brother wrote. "No, you do not shame me, Derek," he replied fiercely, "I'm proud you're my brother." He hugged him firmly and tucked the covers around him. "We'll come back as soon as we do your experiment and let you know what we find. All right?" he said. Derek looked up at him and tilt-nodded. "You'll be good for Doctor Phlox while Trip and I are gone, right?" His brother nodded again and cracked the closest thing to a smile with the intubation lines in his mouth. "You rest and get better," Malcolm said, squeezed him in a hug again, his hands supported Derek's head, he kissed his brother's brow. "You rest and get better," he repeated. "Derek, you're my brother; I—I love you," he said, surprised by the force of his own emotions. He released his brother, stood, let his shaking hands trail down Derek's shoulders and arms to clutch his hands firmly. Derek nodded and squeezed Malcolm's hands as tightly as he could, making his brother's face light up with pleasure, then they released each other's hands. Malcolm smiled and turned to leave ICU.

"See ya later, tiger," drawled Commander Tucker as he stood, winked, kissed Derek quickly on his cheek, and followed Malcolm out of the room. Derek was astonished by the Commander's flirtatious advance. Tucker thought Reed would go to his cabin first, then to the Armoury, so he was surprised when his best friend took his arm and guided him close to the corridor bulkhead, out of the way of foot traffic.

"I probably shouldn't have this conversation with you in a hallway," Malcolm said, "regardless of what I say, or how I say it, we'll probably misunderstand each other and end up arguing."

"About what?"

"About—what the hell are you doing, Trip?! You kissed Derek on the forehead last night, and you kissed him on cheek just now when you thought I wasn't looking—"

"—How'd you see that?!"

"The room is reflected in the observation window," he replied, " 'You know my methods, Watson;' Trip, are you teasing him, or are you trying to frighten him? Because whatever it is, I'm losing my patience—what do you think you're doing to my brother?!"

"Ya'know, after he's outta that air mask, an' after Phlox operates on his nose, Derek will look exactly like you," Tucker replied and controlled his exasperation.

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

"Malcolm, wha'd you say earlier? Regardless what we say, we'll probably misun'erstan' each other an' argue—I'm sorry, Mal, I know you two aren't the same, an' I try to remember that, but I forget—" Tucker stood close to Reed, placed his hand on his best friend and lover's shoulder, and leaned closer so he could whisper into his ear, "I love you, I love lookin' at'cha, an' I love holdin' you—Derek's your brother, your twin brother, an' even with that mask on his face, he makes me think it's you in that bed—Malcolm, you do know I wanna marry you—sooner or later—don'cha?"

Reed sighed and gave up the argument. "Yes, I know, and we will get married, but what does that have to do with Derek?" He tugged Trip's arm again, and they started walking towards the nearest turbo-lift.

"He's gonna be my brother-in-law—he's your twin brother, an' when ya marry me, ya marry the whole Tucker fam'ly—it'll be like you an' Derek getting' adopted by us Tuckers!"

"—Stop there, Mister Tucker," Reed said, "We'll discuss this somewhere else, at some other time; right now, we have our duties to carry out!" Tucker tried to speak, but the Armoury Officer just glared at him.

Tucker sighed; sometimes, when he tried to make his best friend laugh, his attempt would backfire spectacularly. The turbo-lift doors opened, he gestured towards the car, and Reed nodded. They entered, and Tucker pressed the key for Deck F, the Armoury Deck. They were silent until the turbo-lift stopped; the officers exited and began walking. "All right, then, Lieutenant—I'll pick up a tank of liquid nitrogen from Ship's Stores," he told his friend and lover, hoped-for spouse, as they walked, "Where are we meetin'?"

"The Armoury," Reed answered, "Derek specifically referred to a demolition box. I'll get the black stone and meet you there." The two officers parted ways at the next turbo-lift intersection.

Fifteen minutes later, they were in the Armoury's Munitions Demolition Chamber. "That's a pretty odd 'family keepsake,' don'cha think?" Tucker asked when Reed arrived with the chunk of black rock.

"It is, isn't it?" Reed said, hefting the stone in one hand. "It's much heavier than you'd think something of this size would be—here," he handed the stone to his friend.

"Looks like coal, feels like lead—or gold," Tucker replied.

They set up a small demolition box, placed Derek's 'black stone' in it, and attached reinforced valves and gas lines to the box. The officers attached flow timers to the gas lines, connected the nitrogen tank, and examined all the connections. They donned protective suits, in case they had to extinguish a fire, and withdrew behind a transparent blast shield to protect themselves if the demolitions box couldn't hold the reaction. Reed activated the nitrogen transfer. Even behind the shield, they could hear a loud 'crack!' inside the box.

Trip pulled the floppy 'helmet' off his head and turned off the air valve attached to his shoulder. "Di'ja hear that?!"

Malcolm pulled off his helmet. "I couldn't miss it, even with all this aluminium foil on me!"

"Let's go get this secret!"

"Wait a minute!" he shouted, "I want to run some scans—it might be dangerous!"

"Your brother told you about this secret," Trip said, "Don't you want to know what it is?!"

"Of course I do, but I don't want to land us in Sickbay next to him!" He opened an equipment locker, removed three scanners, gave one to Trip, and turned on the other two.

They circled the demolitions box and examined what the scanners picked up, which wasn't much. Finally, they vented the reacted gas into a secure holding tank and approached the container. Fine black dust covered the transparent panel in the lid, obscuring the contents.

"Let's equalize internal pressure and see what we have," Malcolm said and pushed buttons to let air into the box. The officers replaced their 'aluminium foil' helmets and checked each others' air lines. They came close to the box and looked in. "Hey!It looks like a mechanical device!" Trip said, reaching for the lid's clamps.

Malcolm grabbed his arm and pulled him back."It could be an explosive device or one that releases a chemical or biological weapon," he said through gritted teeth, "Let's scan it some more, so we can rule those possibilities out." He called the Bridge and told Captain Archer what Derek had written on the direct draw padd about his 'black stone,' described their discovery, and cleared all personnel from the Armoury and that portion of the deck in preparation to lock down the section. Sub-Commander T'Pol insisted on being present, and, once she arrived, insisted they change into Clean Room EV suits.

After operating a scent analyzer loaded with the databases of hundreds of thousands of Human and alien explosive chemicals, and billions of chemo- and bio-weapons, Sub-Commander T'Pol decided that the device was not explosive and did not contain any dangerous bio-weapons or diseases. Once he received her approval, Malcolm turned on the Armoury's powerful exhaust fans to vent any remaining gas or dust from the tanks directly into space, and they scanned the object again. They approached the box, released the lid's clamps, cautiously lifted it off, and set the item on an empty exam table.

Sub-Commander T'Pol delicately—and slowly—cleaned the object, which turned out to be a device of some sort, for nearly an hour, and conducted precise analyses and examinations upon it, with Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed hovering over her shoulders, frequently offering helpful advice.

Derek felt full and warm when he woke again that evening. "You were right! There was a secret in the black stone!" Malcolm exclaimed, "It's an alien device. Trip—Commander Tucker and I will work with Sub-Commander T'Pol on it tomorrow, but we'll visit you in the afternoon and evening. I wouldn't miss spending time with you for anything, Derek," Malcolm said, smiling brightly.

Late that night, when Derek was mostly asleep, he thought he heard Malcolm whisper to him: "Good night, Derek; I'm your brother Malcolm; I'll look after you until you've healed; and I'm very glad you're my brother. Get well soon, Derek."

After leaving Sickbay, Reed met Tucker in the corridor, and the two men walked to Malcolm's quarters. His cabin was the smallest of the Command Staff's rooms, and located on an interior corridor. Reed pushed up the lightbar; he stumbled from the door to his bunk, sat heavily, rested his elbows on his knees, and dropped his head into his hands. Tucker locked the door and turned the 'do not disturb' light on. The engineer quietly walked to where his best friend and lover sat, and knelt before him. "Mal—Malcolm, I'm sorry I keep thinkin' that Derek is you; I won' do it again, an' I won' kiss'im anymore," Trip said softly.

His friend and lover raised his head. "I am not Derek, and Derek definitely is not me."

"I know that, Malcolm, but he looks like you, he's your twin brother," Trip continued, "At an unconscious level, I'm—an' everyone aboard ship is—hopin' he's gonna be like you—"

"—I wouldn't wish my past on my worst enemy!"

"Don' say that!" Trip exclaimed, "I don' wanna hear you talkin' yourself down! You're an honorable man, loyal, duty-driven, and trustworthy—"

"—Of course I am, I'm an Eagle Scout, but I am also a former intelligence operative, and I was none of those things when I worked for the Section!"

"You ain' workin' for the Section now!" Trip shouted, stood, and began pacing his best friend's small cabin, "An' I will think good of'ya, an' of Derek, b'cause you haven' acted otherwise yet, an' we shoul' reserve judgmen' 'til Derek's well enough to leave Sickbay!"

Malcolm snorted once, tiredly. "Must you always look for the bright side of everything?"

"Must you always look for the wors' in everyone an' everythin'?" Trip asked, standing in front of him.

"Oh, Trip, I can't help it—the worst in every situation and in everyone has always seemed to find me before I could hope otherwise—maybe I need you to protect me from myself!" Malcolm blurted out miserably, standing before Trip.

Trip tightly hugged his lover to his body and sat next to him on the bed. "Oh, my darlin' deares' Malcolm, I'll do my bes' to protec' you from the worst out there—" he mumbled into Reed's fluffy auburn brown hair. "C'mon, darlin', let's call it a night an' hit the hay—I'll undress you if you undress me…"

The two officers slowly undressed each other until both were wearing only their electric blue Starfleet-issued undergarments. One whispered an excuse to the other and entered the tiny lavatory; the other picked up clothes, stuffing them into the laundry chute, shoving their boots under the room's desk. The first returned, and the second excused himself; the first turned on the bulkhead reading lamp over the bed, switched off all the other lights in the room, and turned down the covers.

The second returned, and the two men paused to slowly examine each other. They met by the single bed, embraced leisurely, murmured softly, and kissed sweetly until one gently tugged the other down to the bed. Both men slid beneath the covers; bedding softly rustled, the mattress groaned once; the two men sighed as they settled, and each man adjusted his embrace of the other. One reached up and turned off the lamp; the room's darkness was broken only by greenly glowing nightlights in the door's intercom panel, the wall lamp's switch, and the lit optic fiber frame around the motion detection panel at the bathroom door.
*-*-*-*-*

Week Seven, Day Four:

Derek awoke the next morning feeling full and clean, with his brother holding one hand, his other hand on his face. Malcolm must have completed their morning routine while he was unconscious. He realized that he had looked forward to seeing the Commander, and was unpleasantly surprised that he missed the man's warm embrace. "Good morning, Derek," Malcolm said, "Commander Tucker and I will be working on the alien device today. I hope we can break for lunch or dinner, and spend time with you in the evening." He moved his hands away, then held up a thin device, about the size of a deck of Human playing cards, apparently similar to the scanners the doctor used. "I brought my audiopadd so you can listen to music and recorded books today—I'm sorry, I should have brought this to you months ago—it probably would have done you a world of good when you were comatose," he said, a troubled expression on his face.

Derek grabbed his free hand, squeezed hard, pulled it to his chest, and nearly tipped Malcolm onto himself. "Derek!" Malcolm exclaimed, stunned by his brother's reply, and was hugged tightly by his brother. He pressed Malcolm's hand onto his chest, his right hand over it, keeping it in place. His left arm wrapped around his brother's uniform-clad shoulders, and he squeezed as firmly as he could. He tired soon, and relaxed his hold on his brother. Malcolm gazed down at his brother's obscured face, "I'm fine, I really am fine," he said, his lips quirked wryly, "I guess Trip was right—you aren't going to let me skip meals or let me feel guilty!" Malcolm slid next to his brother and described the controls on the old-fashioned device, making sure Derek could manipulate its functions by touch. "Are you certain you have all that?" he asked, and Derek tilt-nodded and relaxed; Malcolm stood, carefully placed the earbuds into his brother's ears, straightened the covers on his bed, kissed his brow, patted his arm, and left the ICU.

Derek was fascinated by the selections of orchestral music by Beethoven, Britten, Copeland, Elgar, Gershwin, Handel, Ravel, and Tchaikovsky that Malcolm had loaded into his music importantly, he was intrigued by the variety of recorded audio books: To Rule the Waves by Arthur Herman, The Spanish Armada by Angus Konstam, and 21st Century Human Global Space Expansion by Piers Sellers, Helen Sharman, and Michael Wood. There also was Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, 1984 by George Orwell, No Good Deed by S. M. Kwandrans, Tao Te Ching by Lao-tzu, The Art of War by Sun Tzu, and The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Mushashi. Derek was stunned to discover that Malcolm had recordings of noted books about significant alien martial arts disciplines, in their language of origin with English translations: MoQ'bara' by Ghamlek Sa'nes, Qo'nos La'quv, Suus Manha by the Masters of the Monastery of Gol, and Tal-Shaya Rihannsu by Sela Fah'Rihann. He was so excited, he didn't know where to begin, so he started with Malcolm's ranking of the musical selections, and he fell asleep listening to an orchestral oratorio by someone named Handel.

Malcolm and the Commander returned at lunch with some kind of thick soup or stew, to which Tucker added protein concentrates and ran the mixture through the food processor. They went back to the computer lab after his catheters were examined, to continue working on how to get the alien device to function. They returned much later than they usually did to feed him dinner. Malcolm kept up a rapid murmur of descriptions of their tests as he fed him, with Commander Tucker interjecting his own observations.

Derek woke during the night, heard Malcolm whisper his twice-daily prayer to him, then he fell asleep again with his brother sleeping next to him. He woke even later in the night to hear the Commander murmur sensual and romantic phrases to Malcolm as he slept. Tucker seemed to know he was awake, however. "Derek, I promise you, I'll care for an' watch over both Mal an' you equally, like the brothers ya'both are," he whispered and held his left hand, his thumb softly brushing over Derek's wrist, sending waves of passion surging through his nervous system until he fell asleep.
*-*-*-*-*

Week Seven, Day Five:

A day and a half after Tucker and Reed found the device, Sub-Commander T'Pol had to speak with Doctor Phlox and Captain Archer in the Captain's Ready Room. "I believe the Commander and Lieutenant are, as Humans say, 'driving me crazy.' I am uncomfortable sensing Lieutenant Reed's anxiety about his brother and Commander Tucker's eagerness to work on the device. I am very concerned that I will lose my restraint, behave unprofessionally, and accidentally injure one of them. I do not know what to do about this situation."

"Sub-Commander, one unique trait of Humans is their fervor," Doctor Phlox said, "their enthusiasm for discovery sets them apart from many other space-faring races. You can harness their eagerness—"

"—I don't think that's what T'Pol means, Phlox," Archer interrupted, chuckling, "Commander Tucker tends to be overly enthusiastic, although Lieutenant Reed has tempered that somewhat." He leaned forward across his desk to study the Vulcan female. "T'Pol, I know you want to examine the device thoroughly, but don't you think you have enough information about it? Why don't you turn it over to Trip and Malcolm and give them a chance to figure out what it is and how it works?"

"In this case, you are probably correct, Captain," the Vulcan female replied, "but, if it is an alien information technology device, as I suspect it is, then it should not be attached to the ship's main computer database under any circumstances."

"And I will make sure Trip and Malcolm clearly understand that message," Archer replied.

"I believe Sub-Commander T'Pol has developed an allergic reaction to the black stone dust in which the device was encased," Doctor Phlox told Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed that afternoon while they sat with Derek. "She requires medication, meditation, and rest in her quarters for a few days. The Captain or I will let you know when she is ready to return to duty."

"That's unfortunate to hear," Reed replied, "The Commander and I value her insight." When a response from Trip wasn't forthcoming, Malcolm jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow.

Stifling a muttered "Ow," Tucker added, "Yeah, I—we—could tell that T'Pol was havin' a hard time breathin' with that dust aroun'—" The harsh glare from his friend, Malcolm Reed, made the rest of his remark fade into silence.

An hour later, Captain Archer located Tucker and Reed in a small computer laboratory in the Engineering section. "Sub-Commander T'Pol believes the object is an information technology device," Archer said to his officers, "She also stressed that it was not to be directly connected to the ship's main computer, do you understand? We won't argue about this; you'll have to find another way to make it work."

"Yes, sir, of course," Lieutenant Reed replied.

"Sure, Cap'n," Commander Tucker answered, nodding.
*-*-*-*-*

Week Seven, Day Six:

The following morning, Tucker and Reed woke early, fed and cleaned Cane in Sickbay, and then went to the Computer Laboratory. They confirmed that the device was a compressed data drive of alien manufacture. Reed and Ensign Hoshi Sato, the linguist, designed and constructed a free-standing computer system that would enable the alien drive to operate. They first had to puzzle through a confusing group of root files in order to make sense of everything else.

Four hours after they began, Sub-Commander T'Pol surprised them by having their lunches delivered to the computer laboratory. Three hours later, Sato decoded the initial two glyphs—they were the equivalent of zero and one in the alien numeral system. After initially fumbling which was which, the first dozen enormous files revealed the alien drive's operating system in binary code. After voicing his misgivings, Reed removed the terrestrial operating system from the isolated computer, and turned on the alien OS.

The hardware hiccupped—the alien drive ran on different voltage than the terrestrial equipment, which Tucker quickly corrected—luckily, it functioned at a slightly higher voltage, so the unit didn't burn out; a list of the contents on the drive scrolled in an unrecognizable alien font on the video monitor when they accessed the rest of the device's files. Sato transferred Starfleet's linguistic algorithms to a second free-standing computer system; she copied the font files into the linguistics computer, and the officers began the time-consuming work of analyzing file names. Tucker examined the two free-standing computers, then called Captain Archer. "Cap'n, I gotta design a two-way transformer for our research computers, an' a breaker box to monitor usage an' power surges," he explained, "Do'ya think you can convince Chef to send us a snack?"

"I think I can influence Chef for you," Archer replied and turned off his intercom. Twenty minutes later, the captain opened the lab's door and pushed in the squeaky cart which carried three bottles of beer with potato and corn crisps for Reed and Tucker, a bottle of pre-mixed Chablis spritzer with rice wafers for Sato, and covered bowls of candied pecans for Tucker, mixed nuts and dried pineapple chunks for Reed, and gourmet dark chocolate squares for Sato. "My officers can't lose their concentration because they've lost the Sub-Commander and her encouragement," Archer remarked as he handed out beverages.

"Do'ya want me to waste perfectly good beer an' spit it up at'cha?!" Tucker exclaimed in disbelief as he grabbed a handful of mixed nuts and fruit.

"I believe that was an example of irony," Ensign Sato remarked, pouring her drink into a tall stemmed glass.

"Perhaps satirical irony, but thank you for the snack, Captain," Reed said as he opened a slightly chilled bottle of British beer.

"You're welcome, Malcolm," Archer replied, grabbed his bottle of American beer from Tucker, and then he pointed at the long list of unknown glyph chains on the screen, "Are they at all similar to anything you've seen before?" he asked Sato.

"Oddly enough, they bear a slight resemblance to a very old dialect of Vulcan," Hoshi replied, "It's almost as if someone transformed Golic Cursive letterforms into a mechanical or pixel typefont."

"Please, tell me about what you've learned already," the captain asked, pulling another chair closer. He left the Bridge command to Reed's Armoury SIC, Ensign Stone, and the ship was traveling through an empty region of space. Archer also wanted to stay informed about the technical side of his officers' work. Sato, Reed, and Tucker snacked and sipped their beverages as they described the technical and linguistic obstacles they overcame, and where they were now.

Finishing his beer, Trip Tucker put the empty bottle back into the bucket on the squeaky cart. "I've gotta start drawin' 'lectrical circuits for those boxes if we're gonna get any further along with this puzzle," he said, then took a large sheet of carefully recycled graph paper out of the secure cupboard where it was stored. He laid the paper on one of the large work tables, and began drawing lines and electrical symbols for the two-way transformer adjusting power input, and the breaker box which would monitor power usage and surges to or from the two free-standing research computers.

Jonathan Archer happily divided his attention between Trip Tucker's schematic drawings and Reed and Sato's computer screens, asking questions, making comments (some more helpful than others), and giving opinions only when asked. He believed that an effective captain should not manage his command staff officers, but allow his officers to accomplish the most they could do, to the best of their professional abilities—and he was seeing three of his best officers achieving more, much more, than any one of them could individually.

Two hours later, Archer and Tucker had just finished the schematics for the two devices. Reed looked up from his datapadd at his two senior officers. "I'd like to go up to Sickbay now and feed Derek," he said, directing the remark to both men.

"Do'ya hafta leave now, Mal?" Trip whined, "Ya jus' figured out those hare-brained numerals, an' as soon as I get the guys on Beta Shift to build these boxes, I c'n get back t'you an' Hoshi, but we'll lose our place if you go look after Derek for an hour or so."

"Trip!" Archer exclaimed, trying to stop his friend from saying more.

"We could transfer a few of these files to altered datapadds that would back up and save to the free-standing system, not the shipwide system," Reed suggested, "and take those padds with us to Sickbay while I care for Derek."

"Wait a minute!" Sato objected, "I don't want to work alone on the linguistic analysis, and I'll be alone if you both go to Sickbay."

"Captain Archer, may we bring Ensign Sato to Sickbay with us, and introduce her to Derek?" Reed asked.

"I don't see any problem," Archer replied, "but let's find out what Doctor Phlox thinks," he said and turned to the intercom.

"Sickbay, this is Doctor Phlox; what can I do for you?"

"Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Sato have been working on the alien device today, Phlox," Archer explained, "They feel they've made great progress identifying numerals and accessing files, and they don't want to lose their you think bringing Hoshi to Sickbay and introducing her to Mister Cane would raise any serious problems?"

"No! Not at all! Not many problems, Captain Archer; I think Mister Cane may have concerns about being seen attached to the intubation lines," the Denobulan doctor said, "but I was going to suggest to Mister Reed tonight or tomorrow that he start introducing additional crew members to his brother."

"Thanks, Phlox; Malcolm and Trip will be there shortly," Archer replied, closing the intercom link. "Trip, call Engineering and assign some people to build these boxes. Malcolm, please call the Galley and ask if someone can come for the cart—wait, don't—I'll return it on my way to the Mess. Hoshi, one reason I came down was that T'Pol called me, she wants to hear from you about how far along you are in the decryption and translation process. Please put together a memo for her; I hope she'll be able to come to dinner tonight—" he paused to check the chronometer above the computer room's door, "—and I think I might be late for dinner; let's get moving, everyone, and yes, that is an order."

While Captain Archer was giving instructions, Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed were discussing how data cables could be connected and pulled from the free-standing computers on E Deck, go up through the Jefferies tubes to Sickbay, where they could attach connectors to their datapadds, which was the best way of transferring information from one location to the other. The officers planned to have their personnel pull the lines through after they finished dinner.

Archer, Tucker, Reed, and Sato rode the turbo-lift to Deck D, where Sickbay was located. "Mal, don'cha think Derek will be offended if we jus' bring in Hoshi without askin' if he wants other people there when we're feedin' him?" Tucker asked as they exited the turbo-lift.

"We could leave Hoshi in the outer section of Sickbay—"

"—I could help Doctor Phlox feed his menagerie," she said.

"We'll feed Derek, I'll check his attachments and vitals, then we'll tell him that we're working on the decryption and translation of the files on the drive," Malcolm said.

They paused outside of Sickbay's doors, and Archer drew Reed aside to speak to him privately. "Do you think Derek will have any problem with Ensign Sato's presence in ICU?" he asked, "Do we know if aliens have women—female aliens—in their military organizations?"

"I don't know, sir," the young Armoury Officer replied, "That's a question Sub-Commander T'Pol could answer more accurately—or even Ensign Mayweather, since he has experience traveling this far out."

"I'll ask T'Pol at dinner," Archer said, "Anyway, you and Trip continue caring for your brother, and you and Hoshi keep working on decrypting the hard drive's alphabet. You've all had a long day today, you shouldn't work very late tonight. Take care of yourself, too, Malcolm; have a good night, and tell Trip for me as well." With that, Archer turned, grabbed the squeaky cart, and headed towards the Mess Hall and Galley.

Before going into Sickbay, Reed turned to Sato. "I'll raise the head of Derek's bed higher, so he can see everyone in ICU more easily. When I introduce you, it's important for you to come very close to the biobed, so he can actually see you. I'm not sure if he remembers such essentials as shaking hands, so I may have to prompt him."

"Lieutenant—Malcolm, it's all right," Hoshi said, smiling comfortingly, "he has the greater disadvantage. How long did Phlox say he would have to remain intubated?"

"For another four to five weeks at least; then he'd run another battery of tests to see if his lungs are strong enough to have the tubes removed."

Reed, Tucker, and Sato entered Sickbay; not seeing Phlox, they walked across and went into the ICU chamber. Tucker and Sato stayed by the door, and Reed went to his brother's bed, and tapped Derek's shoulder with his fingers. He either was dozing or listening to music, because he flinched, opened his eyes, saw it was his brother, and calmed. Malcolm leaned closer, removed the earbuds, and whispered in his ear.

"I want to introduce you to one of the junior officers that Commander Tucker and I work with on the Command Staff," Malcolm said, gesturing for Sato to come closer to the biobed. Derek's reaction was immediate: his eyes widened and his skin paled; medical telemetry began beeping, alerting Sickbay staff to his irregular vitals. "Derek, I'd like you to meet Ensign Hoshi Sato, the Enterprise's Communications Officer and xenolinguist. She'll be working with Commander Tucker and me on decrypting and translating the alien hard drive's files for the next few days, so she may be here with us during our duty shifts." He leaned very close to his brother's ear, "You shake hands with your right hand," he whispered.

Derek was completely startled after his eyes focused and he saw a slender young Human female. She wore the same kind of jumpsuit uniform his brother and the Commander wore, which was surprising. The thin colored band around the upper chest and shoulders, red on Malcolm's and the Commander's uniforms, was a shade of blue-green on the female's jumpsuit; he wondered what the difference indicated. He also noticed the single square metallic rank mark on her uniform, and Malcolm had referred to her as 'Ensign'. The Commander called Malcolm 'Loo-tenant' in that exaggerated accent of his, and Malcolm had two rank marks; Commander Tucker had three rank marks. He realized that this Human Starfleet militia really was using wet Navy ranks for their service; he wondered why and what it said about them. All his observations occurred in a fraction of a second.

He was so surprised by the female's—woman's—presence that he didn't hear or even feel his brother guiding his forearm up slightly to shake hands with this astonishingly Human woman—beautiful and healthy looking Ensign Hoshi Sato—until their hands touched, and Derek Cane felt as if he had been electrocuted. He was familiar with the sensation, having been tortured by the Nausicaans with an electric charge; he blinked and tilt-nodded, and his jaw would have hit his chest if he hadn't been intubated. He didn't feel Hoshi release his hand, and dimly felt his forearm hitting the bed with a muffled thud.

"I'm very pleased to meet you, Mister Cane, and when your throat recovers, I'd like you to tell me about the alien languages you heard on—at—Saiph III," Ensign Sato said innocently, a faint smile on her lips.

"Well, I guess Derek's gobsmacked," Reed murmured softly.

"You were gobsmacked too, when you first met me—sir," the ensign replied, smirking.

"Ensign Sato, could you please help me with these supplements?" Commander Tucker asked from across the room.

"Yes, of course, sir," the amazingly beautiful Ensign Sato replied, "Excuse me, please," she smiled and nodded at Cane, then left his limited field of view.

With his stomach churning, Derek gestured for his padd and wrote on it: / / I will be shamed if she is here when you feed meit would be cowardly for me to be unconscious, and embarrassing for me to be held by the Commander. / /

Malcolm sat in his usual chair and held his brother's hand. "Derek, it will be all right," he said, leaning close, "I'll ask her to leave, and we won't be shamed. You are not a coward, and it's not embarrassing if someone holds you while I feed your dinner to you."

Derek heard the alien doctor entered ICU, probably to examine him. "Ah, Ensign Sato, I didn't know you were visiting Mister Cane," Phlox said ever-cheerfully, "Would you like to see the new trick my Pyrithian bat has learned? I was just going to feed my medical animals."

"Yes, of course," Sato replied, "That is, if Commander Tucker doesn't need me—"

"—Naw, you go ahead," Tucker replied, "Thanks for helping us."

"—Doctor Phlox, what is the Denobulan verb 'research, to perform research'? I'm using the Vulcan-Denobulan dictionary translated into English—" Sato asked as the alien doctor held the door open at the access controls, and their conversation was silenced when the door closed.

"There, you see? Ensign Sato isn't in the room, and Trip or I will ask her to come back after I've finished feeding and cleaning you," Malcolm told Derek. An intercom chime pinged, and he turned his head. "What's that?"

Derek heard the Commander move away from the counter. "Oh, Crewman Gerrold has brought our suppers," Tucker drawled and left the ICU. He returned moments later with the squeaky Galley cart. "Chef made chunky beef stew for Derek, an' the rest of us have roas' beef san'wiches—mmm, with horseradish sauce and au jus gravy for dippin'!" Derek heard the food processor whir, mixing the nutritional concentrates into his food. "You gotta get well fast, Derek, you're missin' out on Chef's great food!"

"If you feel anxious because Ensign Sato will be working with us here, I can ask Doctor Phlox to give you an antacid," Malcolm asked his brother, "Then you won't become sick to your stomach—and you won't risk regurgitating while the intubation lines are in your stomach and lungs."

Besides having been electrocuted, a fleeting memory of what the Nausicaans forced him to swallow turned his stomach, and Derek tilt-nodded as he gripped and squeezed his brother's hand. He also remembered the pain he had felt when the 'trainers' slashed his rank tattoos, and the searing, burning pain from the caustic chemicals they poured onto his skin; he wondered if the chemicals had altered or removed the colors of his ranks, and he feared that no explanation he could give Malcolm would adequately describe the value, the honor, the respect those tattoos had created in the aliens who saw them when they were whole. If they couldn't be sufficiently repaired, Derek had no idea how he would live with the shame of having been a slave, even if he could prove that he was wrongly scarred. "I'll get something for you now," Malcolm referred to his gastric distress, released him, and left ICU briefly. He returned with the medication, and the Commander sat next to Derek as he usually did.

Derek gripped Tucker's forearm; he shouldn't have thought of the Nausicaans—he wanted to jab his elbows into the man's ribs and pull the apparatus out of his mouth and body. Commander Tucker's left hand somehow worked free of his panicked grip, and his calloused, warm, and gentle fingers stroked his throat, quieting, calming him, causing sensual fire to surge up and down his spine. When Malcolm was finished, Tucker stopped stroking his throat, removed his arms, and moved off of Derek's bed. He missed the man's warm embrace but did nothing. "Take slow, deep breaths," Malcolm said, "You're safe here, Derek, you can relax with us."

Malcolm removed the feeding funnel from the mask's stomach aperture and placed the dirty medical vessels in ICU's sink. As he and Commander Tucker ate their meals, they told Derek about Sub-Commander T'Pol being adversely affected by the pulverized stone powder which disguised the alien computer drive component, and how quickly they were able to configure the free-standing computer systems with Ensign Sato's assistance.

After the officers finished their meals, they stacked the trays, plates, and utensils on the cart. Malcolm wiped any liquid spatters off Derek's inhalation mask, wiped the uncovered parts of his face, neck, arms, gently removed his food-spotted pajama top, and dressed him in a clean top. He smirked as he ran a damp, soapy washcloth through Derek's hair, rinsed it with a second cloth, rubbed it dry with a warm towel, and carefully combed and styled his brother's clean hair. Malcolm examined the catheters and waste removal lines, and replaced the used blanket with a clean one, neatly draped and tucked about his body.

After Malcolm cleaned and neatened Derek, he called for a Galley crewmember to retrieve the cart, then pushed it out of ICU. Derek heard his brother invite the beautiful and healthy looking Ensign Sato back into ICU, and she entered with him. The Commander moved Derek slightly closer to the bed's left edge and adjusted its left safety rail so Malcolm could sit next to him. His brother gave him the datapadd and stylus with which he wrote, and he looked at Malcolm oddly. Sato carried their labeled datapadds, passed them to the officers, and sat on the chair Malcolm usually occupied. "Hello again, Mister Cane," she said to him, "I hope you had a pleasant meal."

Malcolm nudged him and pointed to his padd; Derek was mortified—he had no idea what to say, and Malcolm wasn't helping him. / / The meal was fine—I want to take these tubes out of me, but I must wait, / / he wrote awkwardly.

"You'll heal and regain your strength soon," Ensign Sato replied politely. Sato, Reed, and Tucker continued working on decrypting or translating the symbols labeling the file documents.

"Derek, you lived at Saiph III and at other alien enclaves for many years; please look at this; do you recognize any of these symbols?" Malcolm asked, holding up the padd so Derek could see the symbols clearly.

Derek anxiously focused on the symbols displayed on his brother's padd and tried to think, but he could not even recall what the signs in the Saiph III caverns looked like. / / Im certain Ive seen them before, but I cant remember right now; I will do my best to remember for you. / / he wrote with a shaking hand.

"It's all right," Malcolm said quietly, turning so Hoshi could not hear him as he whispered, "I don't want you to worry about this or become upset; you'll remember when you're well enough to remember. When you're well enough to remember, and healthy enough to leave Sickbay, you'll be able to work with us when you aren't doing your physical therapy exercises."

Commander Tucker called Engineering, ordering two crewmen to bring a roll of cable from Ship's Stores to the Computer Laboratory. They would cut an opening in the interior bulkhead, install a temporary outlet, and run the cable inside the bulkhead wall to the nearest Jefferies tube, cut a second outlet into the inner wall of the tube segment, and then snake the cable through the maintenance shafts to Sickbay, where it would be put back into the interior wall, and dropped into Sickbay via a second temporary outlet. Lieutenant Reed got off Cane's bed and disagreed with most of Tucker's plan; he called Sub-Commander T'Pol to recommend the 'most direct and logical route' from the Computer Laboratory to Sickbay.

As the senior officers bickered in the background, Ensign Sato tried to talk with Reed's brother about his future plans. "Mister Cane, have you thought about what you would like to do for a career when you have recovered, after Enterprise has returned to Earth?"

Cane seemed shocked that she spoke to him, he blushed uncomfortably, then his expression changed to resignation. / / I dont know what Ill do, / / he wrote slowly on his datapadd, / / Ill do whatever Malcolm orders me to do, I suppose. / /

"I'm sure Lieutenant Reed wants to know what you like to do so he can guide you to further training or career prospects," she replied, surprised by his reply.

/ / I will not ask for favors from my brother, / / Cane wrote carefully on his padd: / / I am very happy just to know I have a brother. / /

Sato smiled, dazzling Cane as she leaned closer to him; "And Lieutenant Reed is also very happy to learn he has a brother."

After Derek fell asleep later, Phlox ushered the three officers out of ICU and Sickbay. Hoshi stopped Malcolm in the corridor. "Lieutenant Reed, may I have a moment, please?" she asked hesitantly.

"Of course, Ensign Sato; what did you want to tell me?"

"While you and the Commander were discussing the cables, I tried to talk with your brother about what he'd like to do when he was well, after we returned to Earth, but I received an odd reply," she said, "He wrote, 'I'll do whatever Malcolm orders me to do;' when I replied that you probably want to know what he likes to do, so you could guide him to training or career opportunities, he wrote, 'I will not ask for favors from my brother,' I—I just wanted to let you know, so you can talk to him about it later."

"I guess I'll have to," Reed was uncomfortable hearing Derek's comments, and worried about his unusual attitude. "I'll have to explain to him that I cannot order him to do anything he doesn't want to do," he said, "I would never force him to do something he doesn't enjoy, and helping him once we're back on Earth goes without saying—I wouldn't consider that to be asking for favors—I'll have to talk to him about this once he's well enough to leave Sickbay. Thank you for pointing it out to me, Ensign Sato."

"I hope I did the right thing by telling you," Sato replied, "He—he appeared unhappy to have to talk, or rather, write about himself, and he seemed reconciled to do whatever you told him to do. Good night Lieutenant, Commander," she ended awkwardly with a nod to the men.

"G—good night, Ensign Sato," Reed stammered; "G'night, Hoshi," Tucker said, smiling.
*-*-*-*-*

Week Seven, Day Seven:

T'Pol woke very early as usual, meditated, showered, dressed, sprayed her nasal numbing medication into her nostrils, and made her way to the computer laboratory. She accessed the partially decrypted document file names on the alien hard drive and scrutinized them for a time. She made her decision, and located a public terminal of the shipwide computer system. After she emailed Ensign Sato, she emailed Captain Archer.

An hour later, when Archer arrived at the Captain's Mess, Sub-Commander T'Pol was waiting for him, with a mug of herbal tea, a fruit salad, and French-style pastry for her breakfast. "I believe Mister Cane should be involved in the translation of the text portion and mathematical equations in the alien files. Lieutenant Reed must convince him to work with us." She spoke after each chewed and swallowed mouthful of food, which slowed their conversation.

"Do you believe Cane is familiar with this—these—alien languages?" Archer asked.

"Yes, although it may take him some time to recall aspects of the alien languages he knows," T'Pol replied. "We should take care not to intimidate him, or to make it seem that we are intimidating his brother, Lieutenant Reed."

"I agree with you," the captain said, "I'll call a short Command Staff meeting on the Bridge, tell them about your suggestion and my decision. I'll ask Malcolm to talk to his brother about this."

"We also should ask Doctor Phlox and Lieutenant Reed if Mister Cane is well enough to hear, and see, Constable Sakal's message for him," she added.

"I'll ask Phlox about Cane's condition," Archer said, finishing his last cup of coffee, as T'Pol emptied her last cup of tea. The Galley steward came into the small room as the two officers put their small bits of debris onto their plates. "Good morning, Cunningham," Archer said as he and T'Pol were leaving the Captain's Mess.

"Good morning, Mister Cunningham," T'Pol echoed, "Please tell Chef that I enjoyed the new fruit he served this morning; they are satisfactory."

"Good morning, Captain, Sub-Commander," the steward replied, "Chef will be happy they're satisfactory. Let's all hope for a quiet and peaceful day, sirs."

They were on the Bridge five minutes later. "All Alpha Shift Command Staff officers, please meet at the Bridge Situation Room," Archer announced via shipwide intercom. He was surprised when Doctor Phlox arrived, since he usually was busy in Sickbay. Lieutenant Reed approached and whispered to him anxiously; Phlox replied softly, and the young officer appeared mollified.

"The alien symbols that Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensign Sato recently have translated slightly resemble an ancient dialect of Vulcan," T'Pol reported. "Lieutenant Reed, I suggest that you ask for Mister Cane's assistance in translating these files."

"Begging your pardon, Sub-Commander," Reed said, "But how can Derek help us when he's essentially immobilized in an ICU biobed?"

"If I may interrupt, Lieutenant?" Phlox stood and patted Reed's shoulder. "Mister Cane has been losing weight and muscle tone more quickly than I believe he should and, with many misgivings, I will recommend to Mister Reed that his brother's intubation lines be removed tomorrow or the next day so he can begin eating solid food."

"That's great!" Tucker exclaimed happily, then saw Phlox's serious expression, "—Ain' it?" he mumbled and quieted.

"It would be, Commander, if Mister Cane's lungs had healed at the same rate as his stomach and intestines have," the alien doctor continued, "he will need to perform many hours of inhalation therapy daily for his lungs to regain their strength."

"Why do you have misgivings?" Reed asked.

"If Mister Cane can successfully perform the amount of inhalation therapy that I believe he needs this month, he should be able to speak normally again by the end of next month without the risk of losing his voice permanently. He may even be well enough to leave Sickbay and stay in your cabin with you, Lieutenant, by the end of Week Ten."

"Doctor Phlox, how can we help Malcolm?" Captain Archer immediately asked.

"Continue to support and extend good wishes to the Lieutenant and the Commander," he replied, "I hesitate to offer suggestions for decisions that must be made outside of Sickbay, Captain, but Mister Cane will need long sessions of physical therapy daily between inhalation treatments to regain the strength in his abdominal muscles, including those used for breathing and speaking. It would be most helpful if Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker could coach and supervise Mister Cane's physical therapy regimen over the next two weeks."

"What about our work decrypting and translating the hard drive's files?" Reed asked anxiously.

"Ensign Sato and I will continue to work on them while the two of you are in Sickbay," T'Pol replied, "We can arrange review meetings to keep you informed of our progress when you are not at your duty posts or in Sickbay—unless you have other orders, Captain?" the Vulcan female turned to look at Archer.

He tried not to appear amused. "No, no, you anticipated my orders very—uh—logically," he replied, "Malcolm, you and Trip should go to Sickbay with Doctor Phlox and explain to Derek what will be happening over the next two weeks." Archer tried to appear nonchalant, but he was having a hard time suppressing his smile, "Sub-Commander, you and Ensign Sato should begin working on the decrypting and translating of the hard drive files—check with Reed and Tucker if they have any last-minute insights to share. I think we're done now; each Command Staff officer who is leaving the Bridge, please call for relief to take over your station, and remember, department heads, Starfleet still requires your weekly and monthly reports."

Everyone nodded, moved to their consoles, and made appropriate calls to their personnel. Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Sato copied Reed's and Tucker's data chips, then Phlox, Reed, and Tucker left the Bridge. T'Pol and Sato entered the turbo-lift and headed for the Computer Laboratory when the next turbo-lift arrived. Archer gestured for Ensign Mayweather to take his Helm station again, and he sat in the captain's seat. "Another exciting day exploring the unknown, Ensign Mayweather," Archer said, "Why did the Admiralty reject my suggestion for a pool, Travis?"

"—Uh, losing the water's containment if the gravity plating goes off-line could endanger portions of ship's circuitry and ship's stores, Captain," Mayweather replied over his shoulder, not actually making eye contact with his commanding officer.

"Well, maybe I can work on that problem between all of my other duties today," Archer said glumly.

The turbo-lift opened and Lieutenant Hess exited, took a few steps, and then stopped, looking around the Bridge and Situation Room in surprise. "Excuse me, Captain, but, didn't you call for a Command Staff meeting here?"

Archer looked down at the chronometer embedded in his chair's armrest. "Yes, I did; it's been over for about four minutes. Commander Tucker was here; he's gone to Sickbay with Lieutenant Reed and Doctor Phlox."

Hess's expression changed instantly. "It's not bad news about the Lieutenant's brother, is it?" she asked softly.

"Not bad news, but unexpected and slightly alarming," the captain replied, "I don't want any unfounded rumors spreading—" he turned his seat completely around to inspect the relief personnel on the Bridge, "—but the intubation lines to which Mister Cane has been attached for many weeks will be removed from him, so he can begin physical therapy and regain the weight he lost while comatose. Doctor Phlox believes he'll recover faster with Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker coaching and directing his physical therapy for the next two or three weeks."

"Aw, dang!" Hess exclaimed, "That's why I came up; Stone and I finally finished hacking the power allocation project into manageable chunks; all we need are the Boss an' the Guv to beat the plans and programs into submission. Then, we'd only need about two weeks—and that's with one shift working double every day, swapping out between Alpha, Beta, Gamma. We plan to give a few key Tactical specialists a pass on double shifts so we can maintain combat readiness—"

Archer smiled at the young female engineer's enthusiasm. "Trying to get on Lieutenant Reed's good side?" he chuckled, "Lieutenant Hess, you may as well sit at Engineering's Bridge station while you're debriefing me—us," he took another long, slow gaze around the Bridge. "How long do you think Tr—" he caught himself, "—Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed will need, realistically, to review and revise plans and programs?"

"If Lieutenant Reed doesn't have to worry about his brother, they could easily rewrite the programs, test them, and implement revisions in ten to fourteen days, max," she replied and looked around the Bridge. "How long was your staff meeting?" Hess asked the Captain.

"Ten, fifteen minutes, at most. How long do you think it was, Travis?"

"I'd say eleven or twelve minutes, sir," the helmsman replied, "but that's only because Sub-Commander T'Pol and Doctor Phlox spoke; usually our meetings are shorter than that."

"Wow—probably a good thing we're in uniform an' on duty, or I'd hug'ya—any commanding officer who can keep a staff meeting to less than an hour is amazing; any commanding officer who keeps a staff meeting to less than a half-hour is incredible, an' any commanding officer who keeps staff meetings to fifteen minutes or less should be teaching his—or her—tricks to the Admiralty." A few muffled chuckles and snickers could be heard.

Jonathan Archer leaned back in his seat, hoping his blush wasn't too obvious. "Well, I think I have a few more years as Captain before Starfleet puts me out to pasture," he said casually, "since you have a timeline for the project, do you think Tr—" he paused again, "—Commander Tucker would mind if I skimmed it before he and Lieutenant Reed read and act on it?"

"Uh, you mean 'read and argue about it', don't you, sir?" Hess said rather cheekily as she handed the padd to Archer.

"Mmm—as long as no one tells them that everyone aboard knows it," he replied, switched on the device, and slowly scrolled through the project outline. "Damn—I'll have to tell Malcolm that he and Trip can have only one week to work with his brother on his physical therapy," Archer muttered, troubled by the energy allocation project's complexity. "Is anyone in the Armoury or Engineering even slightly familiar with the programs or schematics of these matrices?"

"Lieutenant Reed was teaching Ensigns Stone and Tanner the programming language he and the Commander had developed, but that was a few months ago," Hess said.

"Do you think they could write draft revisions of the first two programs to help Reed and Tucker save some time?"

"I—I think you could ask or advise Lieutenant Reed and Commander Tucker to allow Stone and Tanner to rewrite them," Hess replied, much less certain than earlier. "I can't speak to it; that would be your orders or instructions to the Lieutenant and Commander from the top down."

"Hmm—sounds like an appropriate answer from an SIC," Archer said, "Off the record—and ignoring ranks, do you think Stone and Tanner could write useable revisions?"

"Aw, yeah—Ensign Stone would move mountains to help Lieutenant Reed! Tanner would be right behind him with extra equipment, but it's your place to be asking—or ordering—that."

"Send Doctor Phlox an email asking him to call you when Trip and Malcolm leave Sickbay for their own lunches; you can bring the report to them then," Archer said, "I'll email them with my suggestions. Do you have any other questions, reports, remarks about the project, for me or the Commander and Lieutenant?"

"No, sir, I'll get back to Engineering, now," Hess said thoughtfully; "Stone and I will inventory the necessary parts in stock, and pull schematics on the ones that will need to be built for the installation. If you have no further orders, Captain?"

"—Dismissed, have a quiet day, and give Stone my regards; good luck with the preparations."

"Thank you, Captain Archer, have a good day," she said, still appearing pensive as she entered the turbo-lift and left the Bridge.

Phlox, Reed, and Tucker left the Bridge after the Captain's meeting, and rode the turbo-lift to Deck D, where Sickbay was located. Cane had been sleeping much more peacefully than he had over the previous three weeks. Malcolm gently shook Derek awake, and cleaned his eyes and face. "Doctor Phlox has news for you," he told his brother, "he'll tell us after we feed you breakfast."

Commander Tucker went to the Galley to pick up the officers' breakfasts; he prepared Cane's liquid protein mix when he returned. The Commander sat next to Derek and held him as Malcolm slowly poured the liquid breakfast into his brother's stomach. Reed switched out the external intubation housings for clean, sterilized ones, examined the catheters, and combed his brother's hair.

Malcolm sat next to Derek on the biobed, his left arm wrapped about his brother's shoulders, his right hand clutching Derek's left. Derek's right hand was wrapped around their joined hands, gripping them tightly. Commander Tucker had raised and locked the left safety rail, not so much to protect Derek, but to make him feel protected. Tucker sat anxiously in the chair Malcolm used when he wasn't sitting next to his brother.

"Good morning, Mister Cane," Doctor Phlox said, "Unfortunately, not all my news this morning is good. Your weight has decreased to lower than average for your height and age, and, of more concern to me, your muscle mass has noticeably decreased since you came aboard Enterprise."

"Doctor Phlox, what can you do about this problem?" Malcolm asked.

"This problem has no easy solution," he replied, "Mister Cane, your lungs still require much more treatment, but more importantly, you need to eat solid foods to regain the weight you've lost, and you'll also need to perform physical therapy to rebuild and strengthen the muscle tone you have lost while comatose. Those things can be much better carried out with the intubation lines removed."

Derek tugged Malcolm's sleeve for the datapadd to write on. / / Will I be able to talk to you when tubes are gone? / / he wrote.

Malcolm read the question, but he did not meet his brother's inquisitive gaze. "Doctor Phlox, perhaps you can explain the problem to Derek more clearly than I can," he said and let the alien doctor read the question on the padd.

"Ah, Mister Cane, if you can successfully perform the amount of inhalation therapy that I believe you require this month," Phlox explained, "You should be able to speak normally again by the end of next month without the risk of losing your voice permanently."

Derek raised his right hand to cover his throat protectively; the news meant that he still could not speak to Malcolm because of his throat and lung injuries. He felt anxious and vulnerable, and he felt confused about his baffling feelings for his brother Malcolm, and for Commander Tucker.

Malcolm Reed was concerned about his brother's health. "Derek, when Doctor Phlox told me earlier that the intubation lines will have to be removed so you can regain your weight and strength, Tr—Commander Tucker—and I decided that our priority for the next two weeks will be your physical therapy program."

Trip Tucker knew that, if anyone needed a gentle and kind friend, it was Malcolm's brother, Derek Cane. However, the engineer was anxious and confused about his real fondness for, and attraction to, Derek. It wasn't just that the former mercenary looked exactly like his best friend and lover, Malcolm Reed; as vulnerable as Malcolm was beneath his professional persona, Trip suspected Derek Cane was probably magnitudes more vulnerable than his brother.