The restaurant was almost empty. This did not surprise Sayden much, as it was now the middle of the afternoon, the streets were quiet, and this place had nothing to recommend it apart from its clear view of the edge of the quarantine zone.

Even moving through the city in this direction had made Sayden more conspicuous than he would have liked. He had drawn several sets of eyeballs, which was probably fine, but one could never tell with these Denobulans - their endless curiosity, their millions of relatives, their endless capacity for gossip.

But he'd made it unmolested and was now mere meters from the border. There were guards with friendly smiles doing the talking, guards with large rifle-like arms doing the frowning, and a string of discrete sensors doing the watching.

Sayden watched it all, over the rim of a mug filled with a brackish beverage which turned his stomach. Two hours after midnight he decided. Succeed or die.

"Be careful with that," he said sharply, when his pock-marked waiter, bringing the moss-covered pastry Sayden had reluctantly ordered, accidentally kicked the backpack containing several pounds of high explosives.

It wasn't ARMED of course- it was the principle of the thing.

Hoshi held her breath.

No one was saying anything.

Then Trip did. "Don't be ridiculous, Alice. You aren't going to Denobula."

"Am I not?"

Alice's voice was eerily calm, and she's spoken as though Trip had pronounced a law of physics she had never heard of, rather than forbidden her to do something.

"No, you're not," Trip continued, and he sounded angry now.

He WAS angry, Hoshi realised. He was furious at being in this position, of being cast in this role. There was fear in his rage, and grief, and the full force of it all was directed straight at Alice.

"You are NOT going down there. We already have three people dead down there. And three more trapped."

Alice held his gaze. "Phlox isn't TRAPPED, he's HOME. Liz went with him because she loved him. The only person trapped down there is the person you aren't letting me help."

"You're our responsibility..."

"I'm a grown woman, and I believe I've resigned."

Alice's calm seemed only to be making Trip angrier. Next to Hoshi, Archer was watching the two of them, eerily silent. And Travis was watching Hoshi herself.

Although clearly annoyed he was getting no verbal support from Archer, Trip pressed on. "Alice you have a responsibility for the health of this crew..."

Alice closed her eyes for a moment. "Everyone is healthy. You can reach medical help in a matter of days."

"T'Pol is..."

"T'Pol is pregnant, not sick, Trip, she's going to be fine," Alice said softly, reaching for Trip's hand.

"He's never going to love you, Alice," Trip snapped back, pulling his hand away. "Never. Do you understand that? Because, before you throw your future away, you need to understand that."

Alice took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, I know. But I'm going anyway."

Trip shook his head. "No you aren't! Jon, help me here!"

There was a long pause, maybe twenty seconds, before Archer spoke. "Alice, I'm ordering you not to go down to Denobula. Do you intend to follow that order?"

Alice peered thoughtfully at the captain.

Just say yes! Hoshi screamed internally, but Alice did not.

"No, Captain. I do not intend to comply with that order."

Archer nodded before continuing carefully. "Well, in that case, Dr Harper, I need to order you to report to the brig. Hoshi, will you escort her, please?"

Hoshi jumped. "Me, sir?"

"Yes please, Hoshi," Archer replied still watching Alice carefully.

"Um, all right?" Hoshi replied, utterly baffled, then turned hesitantly to Alice. "Shall we?"

Alice nodded, although Hoshi could have sworn it was directed to Archer rather than Hoshi herself, and then followed Hoshi off the bridge.

They walked through the corridor in silence for a few minutes before Alice stopped dead.

"Alice?" Hoshi asked. "Are you okay?"

Alice frowned. "Yes, Hoshi, I'm alright, I'm just not sure how to... I don't actually want to pull a weapon on you, or hit you or anything, but you should probably say I did, right?"

Hoshi gaped at her. "Excuse me?"

"I mean, would you find it helpful? I'm leaning more towards the 'let's not, and say I did' end of things, but you are the one who is going to have to sell it...What works better for you?"

Hoshi shook her head, not understanding.

Alice sighed, an edge of impatience creeping into her demeanor. "I don't want to rush you, Hoshi, but time is brain cells here. You follow me? So, behold the imaginary laser scalpel I have pointed at your throat, and let's go..."

"Alice, what are you...?"

"Something about this conversation is making me really look forward to getting got pulled apart atom by atom. Come on, Hoshi! You catch up on the way." With that, Alice strode off down the corridor.

In the wrong direction.

Towards the transporter.

Hoshi paused for a moment, head spinning, but then she made a decision.

She followed.

By the time she had caught up, Alice was already in the transporter panel poking unhappily at the controls. "I always swore I'd never use this thing," she muttered to herself. "Wish I'd taken lessons now..."

"Let me," Hoshi said, her mouth dry. "I've used it before."

"A'right, thanks," Alice replied gratefully, handing Hoshi a small tool. "You can use that to make whatever bruises you think you'll need to be convincing. It's all set up and it won't hurt, just point and click. I won't leave you a laser scalpel, because I'd probably take that with me, wouldn't I?"

Hoshi took the proffered tool and studied it carefully, while Alice retrieved a large medical case from the corner of the room. "Stashed it here on my way to the bridge," she explained sheepishly. "Had a feeling."

Hoshi nodded. She found herself wanting badly to say something, but utterly unable to do so. She wasn't quite sure what it was. "Let's do this then," she said instead. "Time is brain cells, right?"

Alice nodded, and positioned herself on the pad. "Tell T'Pol good luck with the baby," she said softly. "And tell the others, I'm sorry."

Hoshi answered with a curt nod of her own, the transporters controls at the ready. "Alice?"

"Yes?"

"Save him..."

"Yes."

Shaken, and feeling a confusing mixture or righteousness and remorse, Trip stepped into the quiet of sick bay.

T'Pol was still asleep, but she woke with a brush of his fingers on her cheek.

The strange connection between them burst to life.

She smiles, sweetly, and he can't help but return it.

"Hey there, darlin'"

"Th'y'la" she whispers sleepily.

"I'm sorry about before. Real sorry. You know that, right? I never thought you were involved in that explosion. I just... I was just upset. I'm sorry."

T'Pol pauses for a moment, but then nodded and took his hand. "And I'm also sorry. I... handled things...inelegantly. Is there news of the away team?"

Trip looks away. "There is. It's... well, it's bad."

T'Pol's brow creases, and Trip's hand moves to sweep the creases away.

"Sleep though, darlin'," he coos. "I don't want you worrying about that right now. I just wanted to check on you, because Alice...well, Alice has been detained."

"I'm the first officer," T'Pol grumbles sleepily, her eyes already rolling back in her head. "You should not patronise me."

Trip smiles. "I'll make it up to you."

She is then asleep.

Trip knew he was needed back in engineering, but made himself the deal of changing into a new shirt first.

On his way back to his quarters, he allowed himself the ghost of a smile. The shock, the grief, the worry, but in the midst of it all, a miracle. A tiny seed of a new life.

He splashed water on his face, changed his shirt, and was about to head back to engineering when a glint of light caught his eye. A bottle of twelve-year-old Scotch whisky lay on his bed.

Trip frowned at it for a moment and then stepped out the door.