Hoshi tried concentrating on the movie that was playing, as The Fugitive was one of her favorite classics. She had always loved this movie, with its suspense and action, but she found it hard to focus. Travis, who was sitting to the right of her, continued to be a distraction with his constant movements. Malcolm, who was sitting to her left, was pretty much doing the same.

Hoshi sighed. "Would you two please sit still?" she begged. "You're making it difficult for me to concentrate."

"Sorry," Malcolm mumbled.

"Yeah, sorry," Travis echoed.

Hoshi looked at both men. She realised they were still processing everything that happened on the away mission. She had heard from one of the security men that Travis had been forced to shoot and kill one of the Tandaran guards, which wouldn't have been easy for her friend, so she understood his edginess. Malcolm, however, was a different story.

Hoshi peered at him from the corner of her eye and watched curiously as he kept glancing in her direction. She finally turned to him. "Something on your mind, Lieutenant?" she asked.

Malcolm shifted in his seat and blushed. "Ah, no, no..." he stumbled out.

Hoshi smiled and leaned into him. "It's okay, Malcolm. Your secret is safe with me," she whispered.

Malcolm stood abruptly. "I'm sorry, I just remembered that I have something to do," he said, then quickly left.

Hoshi watched curiously as Malcolm raced out the door. "That's weird," she mused.

"It's been a trying time, to say the least Doctor Lucas, and I feel I have let everybody down, especially the Captain." Phlox paused and observed his patient. "I was concerned that something like this would happen and I carry the blame for not acting earlier. I saw the warning signs but the captain can be stubborn."

Phlox sighed. "There are days, Doctor, when I regret that I'm held to my Denobulan ethics. I've done what I can to minimize the damage. However, I fear I have not done enough. In any case, the captain will require ongoing counselling to assist him through this period and I promise to be there every step of the way."

"Doctor..." Liz Cutler interrupted, holding out a mug in her hand.

Phlox smiled and took the offered beverage. "Thank you, Miss Cutler," he said.

"Why don't you call me Liz?" she suggested.

Phlox huffed, surprised. "I'm not sure how appropriate that would be, especially when we're on duty."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "Then call me Liz when we're off duty," she said, then turned. "I'll be doing the re-stock if you need anything."

Phlox watched, amused, as she walked away. "On a lighter note, Doctor, it seems that I have an admirer, Crewman Cutler." He took a sip of his coffee. "She did an outstanding job of handling our emergencies. I'm aware of how difficult it was for her and I'll make sure that I de-brief her thoroughly to help her understand that what she's feeling right now is a normal reaction."

Phlox rubbed his tired eyes. "Thank you for your listening ear, Doctor Lucas. I know you understand." He put down his PADD. "As always, happiness and health to you. Your friend and colleague, Phlox."

Jon held Trip's hand tight. He didn't care who saw him. He didn't care that people would know how he felt. He just wanted Trip to be okay, even though he had assurances from Phlox that he would be.

He felt as guilty as hell that he had gotten Trip into this situation. The knowledge that he was responsible for Trip being hurt was eating away at his soul. "Tortured, you mean?" he growled, softly.

He had a small moment of satisfaction, knowing that he had dealt out his own retribution by leaving Kayla to die on the ship. But it was tempered by the news that T'Pol had ordered a medical team over to the vessel to provide treatment when she had been informed. It left a sour taste in his mouth that the woman who would have happily killed him was now recovering and awaiting escort from the Vulcans back to her home planet, where she would face criminal charges.

Jon chuckled mirthlessly, "Yeah right. Put on trial by her own people. That'll work," he grumbled.

"Captain, Admiral Forrest is waiting online," came the relief comm officer's voice.

Jon slowly rose to his feet and made his way over to the comm. "Route it through to sickbay," he ordered. He took a controlling breath and prepared himself to face the consequences. He fully expected that he would be removed from command, possibly even kicked out of Starfleet, but at the moment he didn't really care. Trip's fate was more important than his, and he could only hope that his friend would not be affected.

"Jonathan, how are you feeling?" the admiral asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"I'm fine, Admiral."

Forrest stared at him as if he was trying to climb into Archer's mind, to figure out what made him tick.

Jon frowned. "Admiral..." he prompted.

Forrest straightened. "Jon, I've spoken to Starfleet Command. Thanks to Doctor Phlox and Sub-commander T'Pol's intervention, you will not be held accountable for your actions."

Jon released the breath he was holding. "Thank you, Admiral," he said. "What about Commander Tucker?"

Forrest shifted uncomfortably and leaned forward in his chair. He folded his hands together. "That's a different story. Since he was in his right mind, we can find no reason not to bring him up on charges."

"Admiral –"

"Sorry Jon, but you are to return to Earth as soon as possible, where Mister Tucker will face courts martial."

Jon dropped his head. At least Malcolm's part in all of this is still unknown, he thought bitterly. He looked over to Trip, who was now awake and fully aware of what was to come. Their eyes met. Dammit...

The End...

Yes, I is mean... :)