The New Doctor

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 53


Those gathered around the conference table tried to hide the heaviness of their hearts after watching the Denobulan crew exit the portal with their still comatose friend. There hadn't been a chance to say a proper good-bye to him due to the hard fibrous shell that encased his entire body. Were it not for the rhythmic pulsing of fluids coursing through the protective cocoon they might have assumed his demise. But the other Denobulans remained firmly hopeful of his recovery, save Ymo, who was surprised Phlox wasn't dead yet. Even Ezme had managed to look positive when regarding her father's globular form.

Now the normal course of business was at hand. Archer stood at the head of the table and waited to commence the proceedings until the final member had rushed through the door, out of breath and silently took her seat at the far end of the table. There was a large gap between her and the others, but she made no move to close the distance. She was also the only person present to have brought a beverage from the Mess Hall.

"Would you care to bring us up to date on Phlox's condition?" Archer inquired, catching Andie mid-sip.

She swallowed her coffee carefully before announcing. "Phlox was removed by the Denobulans this morning. His condition is serious, but treatable and they feel confident that he will be returned in a few weeks in mint condition. His condition is the result of a senior officer refusing to acknowledge his own physical and emotional needs and each member of the crew should take it upon themselves to reflect upon their own condition and attend to their requirements, whatever they might be." Andie kept her gaze steady on the captain when she said this, but he knew she was reminding him of his refusal to accept her unofficial opinion that something might be wrong with Reed.

Ignoring the small dig, he forced a smile in her direction. "Until Phlox returns, Dr. Andie has agreed to serve as Temporary Acting Chief Medical Officer. I'm sure she'll attend to all her duties with the utmost attention to detail." His green eyes bore into her and she knew it was a reminder of the condition of her continued presence on board. She had yet to speak to T'Pol or Tucker and she definitely hadn't gone out of her way to speak to Reed just yet.

Andie merely inclined her head to accept his introduction to the staff. Then she leaned back in her chair and kicked her heels up onto the table and sipped her coffee as he continued. She hadn't bothered to acknowledge the audible gulp from Reed's corner of the table when her promotion was announced. Actually she'd been working pretty hard to stay away from him for a couple of days now. There was no reason to change that habit any time soon.

"Dr. Andie has indicated that several members of the crew who went aboard the pirate's den known as The Reef might have been carriers of the Denobulan Sleeping Sickness, which means we have an obligation to check on their progress and make amends if we've infected them," Archer announced. "Eckta will allow a small boarding party, so Commander Tucker will be heading up the group there. Malcolm, I'd like you to join him. You will enter The Reef and dispense a canister of the antifungal treatment through their environmental control system and then get out of there I don't want you lingering there any longer than you have to."

"Me, sir? I could arrange for a team of MACO's…" Malcolm had no wish to return to the one place where people could place him as a mercenary but he couldn't very well report that to the captain.

He'd gotten away with minimal detection before and he was reluctant to tempt fate any further.

"You've spent time on The Reef. You know the layout better than anyone else," Archer told him, ignorant of the way the armory officer flinched at that statement before realizing the captain meant his most recent sojourn. "Take a couple MACO's if you want, but remember, we are responding to a medical emergency there. Keep it friendly."

Malcolm clenched his jaw. "Aye, sir."

Archer turned back to the group. "We have also contacted the Daihan people and offered them the same assistance. Andie will be leading the team for those inoculations. "

"I have already contacted the Daihan transport," T'Pol interjected. "They do not wish to allow Dr. Andie access to their ship. They seem to hold her in some way responsible for the actions of the current…Prince Paramour."

Andie couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Ask them if they'll accept a Vulcan team," she suggested, dropping her feet off the table and onto the floor where they belonged.

"I cannot be expected to dispense medicine to an unknown species without a representative of the medical community," T'Pol objected.

"You won't be alone and they won't know I'm there," Andie answered. She didn't elaborate, but they all realized she was talking about a disguise.

"They might notice if they do a bio-scan," Trip pointed out.

"They won't," Andie denied with certainty. She sipped her coffee without further explanation.

"I trust you can make the necessary modifications to pull this off?" Archer queried.

"Piece of cake," she answered briskly.

"Then let's get started," Archer commanded, rising from his chair carefully.

The senior staff dispersed.

"Doctor?" T'Pol stopped Andie before she could scramble away. "I can offer you one of my uniforms for your disguise."

"Thanks, but I have everything I need," Andie answered with a small smile. She'd been meaning to ask T'Pol further questions about her comatose state, the way she'd interrogated Archer and Tucker about theirs. More and more she was convinced that what she suspected about the medical charts was true: T'Pol's comatose state was related to Tucker's through a neural link. The doctor just didn't know how or why they should be interconnected. Now didn't seem to be the right time though. "I have to go…get changed," she stammered, offering another polite smile before dashing for the door. If she could just keep moving, maybe they wouldn't catch up to her.

She sighed in the quiet of the corridor for one whole microsecond.

"Congratulations on your promotion, Doctor."

Jerking around she saw he had waited for her with his back against the wall. "Thanks, Reed. I'll see you in the Launch Bay." She straightened her shoulders and started for the turbo-lift at a brisk pace.

To her irritation, he matched her stride. "Dr. Ezme said that you didn't use your sulfate theory at all," he continued, wondering what it was about him that made him unable to just let things lie still.

"Nope," she agreed, tapping her feet impatiently at the wait. "I used a sample of Denobulan DNA to produce the anti fungal treatment."

"How lucky it is that you came up with something shortly after I was incapacitated." He meant to apologize for tormenting her to the point that she could only work productively when he was absent but he didn't realize that his tone might sound more aggressive than he intended.

"Actually it was Mayweather's doing. His presence in Sickbay set me on another course of action. Would you excuse me?" she stepped into the lift and hit the button to close the door in his surprised face.

Ignoring the fact that slamming the door in his face was the rudest she'd ever been, Reed acknowledged that Andie seemed to be avoiding him more than usual lately. He didn't relish the thought of tempering his ability to do his job well in order to maintain a peaceful working relationship on board this vessel so he wasn't putting forth his best efforts to find her, but he realized he would have to make peace with her somehow. He sighed. It was a small ship. He could make an appointment with her after this current operation was over to make all the speeches he wanted. He was nothing if not persistent.


The ride to the Reef was fairly uneventful. There were few other ships in the vicinity. The NX-01 could not trespass through the heavy asteroid field, so a shuttle pod was dispatched at close range. Malcolm felt the knot grow in his chest as he watched the large ship change course and disappear in another direction. Enterprise would close the distance to the retreating Daihan Brigade much faster than the shuttle pods could fly, although they would also stop a respectable distance away and allow the 'Vulcan Medical team' take the last leg of the journey in the second shuttle pod, according to the wishes of the SaiDai. It just didn't feel right to watch the vessel racing away when he might need her.

"Did you happen to get a look at Andie in her Vulcan get-up?" Trip slapped Malcolm's shoulder jovially as they stepped aboard the open cavern that was the landing pad. "If I didn't know better, I'd think her pointed ears were real!"

Malcolm forced a smile to be polite, but he didn't really want to think about Andie's ability to blend into any background. If there was any way he could have refused this assignment he would have taken it. Confronting an unpleasant part of his past was on the bottom of his list of things to do. He had managed to peek out the porthole and noticed that the scout ships that had originally kept watch over the entrance to the Reef had gone missing. There had been nobody to challenge their approach.

The humans weren't certain what to expect on the Reef, but it wasn't the sight of two multi-armed pale thugs holding weapons on their small party. Reed wished he'd brought more than the four of them. Commander Tucker was there to apply the human container into the alien environmental controls and Mayweather was happy to fly the shuttle. Woods was the only other security personnel to be found. Reed liked the thought of a MACO on this job, more than any of the regular security force. It looked like he was going to be useful.

All four humans had raised their arms in a gesture of surrender when a gruff voice could be heard behind the armed guards. "Put them down, nikfark! Let them in!" Eckta himself came sliding into the room on slimy tentacles, reaching out two digits in wide open formation as though he meant to embrace old friends. Thankfully he stopped before he could touch any of them.

"Colm, after so many years, I see you so much now!" Eckta's tiny mouth stretched into an oily grin as his wide dark eyes seemed to bore through him. If he hadn't been looking straight at Reed, Malcolm would have turned his head to see if someone was behind him.

"We need access to your main environmental controls and then we'll be out of your…hair," Reed spoke briskly.

"You all business now, eh, Colm?" Eckta needled him slightly. He whipped a tentacle at the guard who still hadn't dropped his weapon. "Do what I tell you! Now!" he barked. The guard stumbled backward at the force of the blow. When he steadied on his feet, his weapon remained at his side. "Come wit' me now," Eckta motioned them to follow.

Reed motioned Mayweather to remain behind and guard the shuttle and Mayweather looked relieved to do so.

The octopod led them through the rabbit warren of tunnels that bore their way through the former asteroid until they reached a rusty old claptrap that served as oxygen recirculator. "'Dere 'tis," he nodded.

Trip started to kneel down on the damp floor, but Eckta stopped him with the tip of one tentacle. "You only put medicine in 'dere, yeah? I wouldn't want you to put nuttin' unfortunate in 'dere, make ever'body sick. That might upset me."

"We're trying to help you," Trip snapped back. The octopus creature gave him the creeps. Trip thought it might have to do with the completely black eyes that didn't allow for any color or light to penetrate. They were eyes that saw darkness everywhere they looked, and Trip didn't like spending any more time here than he had to. Rather than continue nipping at the sea-creature, Trip turned his attention to the machine in front of him and concentrated on getting the small canister to release its medicine into the main ventilation.

Eckta lingered, chattering ceaselessly about famous people who had come through his bar, as though he could impress his human guests with names they'd never heard before. He wasn't really interested in their reactions though, judging by the way he spoke without waiting for a reaction from anybody. Woods stood at the door and never took his eyes off the octopod. Reed leaned against the wall and pretended to relax.

""Dey don't need no two of you to guard him," Eckta noted finally. "You and me, Colm, we go get drinks and talky to us while 'dey work."

Once again Reed was dismayed to find the barkeeper paying attention to him especially. "I don't drink on duty," he replied calmly. If he agreed, would he be taken into the bowels of this place, never to be seen or heard from again?

"Good! Den I'll do all da drinkin'!" Eckta hissed out his laughter at his own wit. One tentacle wrapped around Malcolm's shoulders in a way that did not accept refusal. "Colm, we go now. We be back when dey finished."

Malcolm and Trip exchanged glances before Reed was led away with his new pal.

The wide round room that housed the main bar and dance floor was nearly devoid of people. The lights were slightly brighter than they'd been, and this time Malcolm was aware that the floor was made up of a heavy metal grid. Under the grid lapped a pool of dirty water. Had it been like that last time he was here? Malcolm allowed himself a single moment of panic at the thought of what would happen if the gravity plating went off-line and all the water beneath him rose up to drown him where he stood before he straightened his shoulders and refused to look down.

"That Red, she slippery, eh, Colm?" Eckta grinned as he moved behind his round bar and placed an empty glass on the counter with one tentacle while another pulled the top off a bottle and poured an amber brew into the mug, while still another arm wiped up a sticky spot near the display of bottles.

"Why do you keep calling me Colm?" Reed inquired irritably.

"Dat what she said," Eckta looked confused. "When I axed your name, she said Colm Noir. You don't know your name?"

Reed bit back a smile. "Call him Noir" had not translated correctly and had become his new nickname. He noticed the sly look Eckta was giving him, which was so different from the ebullient chatter he'd been nattering before, and straightened his shoulders. "I prefer Noir," he explained shortly, thankful that he'd followed the directive to remove all identification from their uniforms before setting out on this fool's errand. It would make tracking him much more difficult later. He had a dark moment when he thought it wouldn't be such a bad idea to wipe out all the places such as this one from the known world with a couple of high yield torpedoes.

The green-skinned band leader returned to the stage and began to warble, accompanied again by his similar hued brethren and the many armed percussionist. They seemed unmindful of the nearly empty room. Malcolm assumed it was a rehearsal in preparation for the next night's festivities.

"Lor!" Eckta shouted. "He prefer Noir!" He jabbed a tentacle at Reed and Lor, the bandleader, nodded tiredly. The musicians began a slow song, dark and moody.

Reed thought the music was perfectly in tune with his disposition.

"How come Red don't come wit' you?" Eckta asked, leaning in and speaking confidentially into Reed's ear.

"Does she seem the type to head out on an errand of mercy?" Reed responded with an appropriate level of sarcasm. He didn't think too hard about how easy it was to slip back into the persona of a pirate.

The octopod's sly grin came back. "You don't know her well, do you?"

Reed cocked his head to one side and studied the barkeeper. "We're acquainted well enough. Do you know her well?"

Another hissing snort rocked the squishy body. "More than she knows," Eckta muttered. Those crazy black eyes studied Reed intently. "You want to see somethin', Noir? Somethin' about your girl?"

"What did you have in mind?" Reed replied. Obviously it was something that Eckta was dying to show him, but for whatever reason he wanted it to look as though Malcolm wanted whatever it was. In spite of his decision to make amends to the doctor, Malcolm couldn't help the curiosity that ate at him. He nodded at Eckta and the squid led him away through another door into the darkness of The Reef.

Eleanor would not have approved, but she wasn't here.


The mission involving the Daihan princess and her contingent of ladies in waiting was mostly uneventful as well. As Andie had promised, the Daihan guards who allowed them entrance did not conduct bio-scans. Starting with the armed ships that guarded their royal cargo, Andie and T'Pol were able to conduct quick scans of each vessel, not discovering any of the virulent fungal spores that had taken over the human vessel so quickly.

Moving on to the larger vessel housing the royal family, they underwent the same physical pat down for weapons, but again there were no technological advancements to assure their identity to the guards. The guards nodded at their two pointed-eared guests and gestured them through a portal at the end of the corridor. The SaiMei was surrounded by other young ladies and they chattered incessantly about the formal wedding preparations that would begin taking place on the Daihan Homeworld as soon as they arrived. Barely any attention was paid to the mostly silent visitors as they waved medical tri-corders at each female, and each negative sign of the Sleeping Sickness was met with agreeable eyebrows from the Starfleet conspirators.

T'Pol and Andie made preparations to exit the Daihan ship, gathering their supplies back into the medical kits they carried. The Vulcan had been impressed that her human companion spoke fluent Vulcan, and when she spoke to the Daihan, she even had the appropriately heavy accent that was indicative of the formal language used in courts and legal proceedings by the leaders of Vulcan, not that the Daihan would know the difference in languages. Andie seemed unconcerned that the Daihan might be translating the words she spoke, and with good reason. Except for the guards who followed them through the ship and held their weapons at attention, little interest was paid to them at all. Quietly, T'Pol told the guards to thank the SaiDai for his assistance and requested permission to depart.

It was not the king but the Prince Paramour that met them at the door. "Leaving so soon?" Jase inquired sardonically. He wore rich robes now and a circlet on his head, but his derisive scowl remained the same.

"We have completed our scans," T'Pol informed him, standing in front of Andie as though to shield the other woman with her body. "We are ready to take our leave."

"Who said you could go?" he asked, stepping around T'Pol to look into the face of the woman just behind. "Perhaps I require some medical attention myself."

"Then you should make a request to the SaiDai," T'Pol told him briefly.

"I am making a request of you," he said, looking directly at Andie. It didn't seem that her disguise fooled him at all.

Andie looked him in the eye. "I have completed my vork here. Your health is no longer my concern. You should look to your vife for your future needs." The formal high speech transcribed the 'V' and 'W' sounds.

"What if my future needs require a…Vulcan medic?" he teased, reaching out to run a finger across her collarbone and the dark brown silks that covered her from neck to toe.

"Then I suggest you contact the Wulcan High Command," she told him firmly.

"We would like to allow you to return to your journey without further delay," T'Pol added tightly, lifting her chin in an effort to be intimidating.

"You could stay?" he offered once again, ignoring T'Pol as though she'd never spoken and lightly touching the golden hair of his former companion that had been arranged in an elegant fold at the back of head and held in place with a thin gold band. "I'm a prince now. I could make things easy for you."

It was an offer. She could go with him, to live as a companion in the royal household of Daihan. She would have comfortable quarters and many nice things. She could remain with a man who had been her best friend, who had shared everything with her right before he tried to kill her, not once but twice. And she'd let him go both times without punishment, she reminded herself. She must be crazy to drop him back into this Daihan mess and expect it to end well. One quick look at the rich detail of his robe and the metal circlet that wound around his forehead and Andie knew that he was beyond her reach, even if she wanted to change her mind.

"Ve are finished vith the princess," Andie spoke stiffly. "Ve vill leaf."

Jase's hand dropped to his side once more. "Then go," he snapped, stepping back and letting the alien females step through the airlock into their small shuttle pod once more.

T'Pol could appreciate the calm that kept Andie demure in the presence of a man determined to torment her. Not all of her human crewmates had exhibited that kind of restraint over the years, a trait that the Vulcan certainly hadn't expected of this particularly volatile human.

"You handled yourself well," T'Pol commented as the smaller shuttle dropped away from the Daihan ships and started back to the place where Enterprise waited.

"Because I didn't punch him in the face?" Andie questioned acerbically.

"Yes," T'Pol agreed.

"I should have," Andie muttered. "Just one good blow for old times' sake." She sighed heavily.

"That would have made our medical mission…difficult." T'Pol sounded a little amused.

"Yes," Andie sighed again, cranky that the realization that he was gone for good made her a little wistful. The best thing for her to do would be to remember why his absence was for the best. "How much time do we have until we rendezvous with the ship?"

"Seventy-two minutes," T'Pol confirmed, checking out the charts.

"Archer wanted me to tell you something," Andie began slowly. She dreaded the retelling.

T'Pol finished programming the auto-pilot and swiveled her chair around to face the female seated behind her. "Go ahead."

Andie insisted on a vow of secrecy, and then began the rather long tale.


Eckta dragged Malcolm back into a tiny room filled with view screens. "I tell you dis as a friend," the squid nudged the man conspiratorially. "I tell you we could make bucks from Red wit' a little help."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Reed told him impatiently. "Get to the point."

Eckta's face darkened. People didn't usually talk that way to him inside his own bar, and he didn't like it. Every patron knew not to screw with the sea creature. "She's wanted in three different systems. At least two of her…heh, let's call 'em fans….would pay a premium to bring her to 'dem. We could split the money."

Malcolm frowned. "I thought you were her friend," he pointed out.

"Friends? Red and I were never friends!" Eckta called up several different tapes, and Malcolm realized the squid had already selected them; he'd been planning to make this offer since before the humans returned to the station. The tapes played out on the screens in front of him painted a bleak story, less noble than the one he'd come to believe, and more in keeping with a woman who would hide her past at all costs.

Andie, on stage, dressed in skimpy clothing, captivated the crowd by gyrating to the music. She sauntered off the platform into the unruly crush of persons that surrounded the stage to lay her hand on the arm of a male who seemed to be struggling with his female prostitute. It was difficult to make out their movements as a brawl seemed to be brewing in the room around them, but it looked like she was stealing the rich patron from the poor girl. Given Andie's distinct and somewhat violent reaction to being touched without her consent, Reed found it hard to believe that was true. She focused her attention on the male who forgot to continue beating the weeping girl at his side when the woman in red thrust her nearly uncovered bosoms at him. He set his sweaty hands on her shoulders and didn't notice when she swept the girl behind her into the arms of a green musician who pulled the girl away under the stage. Andie kept her body between the thug and the cowering, bloody female as she ran her hand along the bulging muscle of his arm and offered that slow, hot grin before signaling for a round of drinks, distracting him from his prey.

"That guy claimed she stole a piece of jewelry from him. Nobody could see nuttin', or at least they said nuttin', but she's got quick hands," Eckta was watching his reaction closely. "He pro'ly be happy to make her acquaintance again under better circumstances for him."

"Didn't you investigate these allegations?" Malcolm inquired. The crowd swirled around the surveillance equipment and it was hard to make out what was happening.

"Nobody ever catches Red if she don't want to be caught," Eckta told him plainly. The squid hit a few more buttons and brought up a different scene.

On a different night in the bar, a young female threw a drink in Andie's face. Andie struck the female hard enough to drop her to her knees. Other people got involved and the scene devolved into chaos; women struggling with other women while males and other observers placed wagers on the outcome rather than lending a hand to stop the fight.

"T'at little girl wunnit never seen again," Eckta informed Malcolm. "Nobody who tangle with Red ever seen again. Not in one piece leastways."

In yet another short clip, the bar looked like it had barely survived a war. In the middle of the debris leftover from one of the frequent brawls, Andie crouched with a sharp blade in her hand beside a bleeding female. Malcolm couldn't tell if she was rendering aid, or cutting the girl further. Although the tapes were unclear, Malcolm was pretty certain he could guess which option was more likely from the woman he'd come to know.

"T'at girl had an offer to go wit' a rich owner. Red didn't like it that somebody else got her man. T'at girl vanished." Eckta made a soft popping sound with his mouth to indicate her disappearance. "Red is dangerous, but desirable. There's profit to made wit' that one."

In spite of the fact that these images seemed to prove every angry thought he'd ever had about her, Malcolm felt they didn't tell the whole picture. "You're not listening," his ghost had insisted during the course of his fever. Andie may have done all these things that Eckta said, but Reed discovered he believed her when she said that she smuggled girls out of Eckta's Reef. That beaten prostitute, the angry antagonist, and this bloody girl who barely looked old enough to frequent an establishment like Eckta's, let alone work in a professional capacity were probably all living somewhere else now, far away from the greasy tentacles of this monstrous barkeep, due to one determined doctor. He wondered how she had managed to fake her death and got the entire den of thieves to believe it. And she'd walked right inside it once again to save the blue fellow she called her friend.

Malcolm casually fingered his sidearm and looked directly at Eckta's face. "There will be no deal today. If you speak of it again to anyone, you'll have to deal with me."

Eckta's black eyes lost their fanaticism and hardened. "Don't threaten me in my place, boy."

"Don't threaten the lady in my care, squid," Malcolm countered in a low purr.

The squid glared once more before allowing his missed opportunity to pass by with a hiss of his terrible laughter. "So it's like that, is it? You don't know her. She'll lead you on and then she'll leave you high and dry. It's what she does best." Those wet black eyes studied Malcolm's resolve, which did not waver. He relented. One tentacle flipped the monitors off. "Come on, Noir. I'll buy you another drink."


T'Pol and Andie stepped into the familiar corridors of Enterprise with relief. The journey back had passed quickly as T'Pol listened without interruption. Andie couldn't decipher the Vulcan's reaction to the tale and the Vulcan didn't offer any commentary. It was weird to air her dirty laundry for the second time in a matter of days, after spending so much time trying to pretend it never happened. She ought to feel relieved, but instead her stomach was tied in knots.

"How have Commander Tucker and his team fared?" T'Pol asked, standing attentively before the captain.

Andie looked up to realize that Archer had met them outside the Shuttle Bay. She hadn't even noticed.

"They haven't checked in yet," Archer confirmed. He studied the women carefully. Something had happened; he just couldn't figure out what. Hope sprang up in his chest. If Andie was complying with his demands, he might be able to let her stay. The knot of tension seemed to lessen in his chest.

"You should have received a progress report by now," T'Pol noted, feeling her insides curl together. Perhaps the chief engineer was in danger.

"The asteroid belt that houses the Reef might be interfering with their communicators," Jon said with a confidence he didn't feel. "We're headed back that direction now. We'll be there shortly."

"I'd like to take a shuttle and observe their progress myself if you don't mind," Andie volunteered cautiously.

"I thought you weren't welcome aboard Eckta's Reef?" Archer inquired, faintly surprised at her request.

"I'm not myself today," she answered with a brief gesture at her Vulcan disguise that had worked so well on the Daihan.

"All right," Archer agreed. "We leave as soon as we're in range."

'Would it be possible to get a list of all the equipment Tucker took with him? I might see something he missed." Andie followed at the captain's heels.


Trip was still grunting over the foreign machinery when a cleaner hand than his offered a slender tool. "You may find this to be of some assistance, Commander."

He looked up to see a slender Vulcan standing at his shoulder. "Thanks," he muttered, wiping the sweat off his brow with his sleeve before taking the new tool. It was just what he needed to pry the last valve open. Slipping the contents of the medical container into the ventilation was just a step away now.

"Will your repairs be completed soon? I would care to partake of a cup of coffee."

Trip looked up again at the slender female with the pointed ears. "Andie?" he whispered with a grin. "That really you in there?" Her disguise was truly impressive up close.

"No," she disagreed solemnly, with a twinkle in her eye. "It is not me. Will you be long?"

"Not long now," he admitted with a sigh of relief. This place was moist and grungy. He didn't think an hour of showering would let him feel clean again. "You look great."

The Vulcan face frowned. "Hurry and finish, then head back to the shuttle. We need to get moving."

"Sure thing…Sub-Commander," Trip grinned. The brown silk suit was not unlike the one that T'Pol had worn for two years. "Just give me five more minutes."


Malcolm remained at the main bar, hunkered over his still full beverage. From this particular seat he could catch in the reflection over the bar anyone who passed through the room. One female had entered and caught his eye. She was the one who had claimed Jase as her lover. She sported a black eye, and what's more, some old bruises that were barely healed peeked out from under her low cut top. It seemed a shame to leave her here when this was over. He nearly missed Archer's entrance, so entranced was he on watching the working female.

"I see you're hard at work," Archer teased as he slid onto the stool next to the brooding man, noting the female in full view.

"It's a dirty job, sir," Malcolm agreed with mock seriousness.

"Think I can get one of those?" Jon nodded at the glass.

Malcolm slid his glass over. "Drink mine if you like, sir. Eckta poured it for me himself."

Archer stopped with the glass halfway to his mouth. "Is he still mad about the damage?" He looked around at a few new blemishes on the worn and faded interior from explosions and weapons fire.

"It's hard to tell." Reed swung his body around to face the captain. "We should leave here as soon as possible, sir."

"I'm working on that, Malcolm," Archer assured him. He watched the shorter man's eyes wander again to the female. "She's pretty."

"She seems to be sporting some extra damage, sir." Malcolm fiddled with a napkin. "Perhaps we could offer her sanctuary?"

"Did she ask you for sanctuary?" Jon inquired, surprised that his stoic armory officer might be turned by a pretty face.

"No, but she might have reason to wonder if someone might overhear her request and retaliate." Tilting his head, Malcolm indicated the security cameras surreptitiously.

"I don't think…" Archer's sentence cut off as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Andie was crossing the floor. In addition to her garb and patterns of speech, she also had a knack for gliding along the floor in near silence, as most Vulcan's moved.

Malcolm watched her come closer. In the slightly brighter lights of the main room, she'd pulled her travel cloak over her head, but he would have known her anywhere. "Excuse me, miss," he called out, raising his hand to garner her attention. "I'd like another, if you please." He waggled his glass in her direction.

"I'm not a serving wench, jackass," Andie's low voice was tense as she stopped right next to him.

"Forgive me," he apologized easily. "Clearly a mistake." He was perversely amused to watch her jaw line clench as she fought back the nasty rejoinder she ached to make.

"Trip's nearly done. Are you ready to go, or would you care for another round?" she asked icily. "I hope you're enjoying your leisure time."

"Malcolm's considering taking a wench home," Archer joked easily, indicating the female who cleaned another table.

"She's not your type," Andie bit off the words sharply, as though they might bite her back.

"I'll let you two work it out," Archer slid off the stool. "I'm going to go help Trip finish up." He passed through the room quickly.

The doctor remained on her feet and looked carefully around the nearly empty room. The band still played in the background. "Lor's pretty good," Andie idly noticed, as she swiveled her head back around to Malcolm.

Reed tried not to look at her. ""You're not safe here. The barkeep has some nefarious plans."

"He always does," she acknowledged easily. "I'm not worried about Eckta."

"You should be," Malcolm warned. "He wants to sell you for profit."

"I know where Eckta's most prized possession lies. Believe me. He won't touch me," she said quietly.

"He seemed very determined," Reed insisted. "Perhaps he's worried you'll make off with his…prized possession, whatever that is."

"He knows I don't want it." Andie refuted wryly.

This time he did look at her. Over her shoulder he could see Trip and Woods waving at him from the doorway. With a surreptitious wave of his hand behind her back, he sent them on their way. "Can I buy you a drink? We should speak privately."

"Vulcans do not consume alcohol," she stated evenly.

He wondered if she was being deliberately obtuse or if the skill came naturally to her. With a heavy sigh, Malcolm nodded toward the battered female still bussing tables. "Perhaps we should offer her an escape."

"She won't take it," Andie told him with certainty.

"Are you telling me she would prefer to remain a prostitute rather than live an honest life?" he asked.

The doctor merely shrugged and indicated with her hands that he was free to make the offer. Malcolm wasn't certain how a person went about offering an escape to a hooker. Trip had a movie about just such a thing somewhere; now he wished he'd paid closer attention.

She recognized his discomfiture and stood up straighter, indicating that he should follow her. "Yo, bella!" Andie called out softly as they drew near. "You want a ride?" Her voice didn't carry much further than the woman in question.

"Go frak yourself," the female grunted.

"Last chance," Andie told her. "They'll take you anywhere."

The female replied in a very long sentence that the translator program could not complete. They didn't really need it though; her refusal to leave was pretty clear. Malcolm sighed and followed the female through the corridors to the Launch Bay. Only one Starfleet shuttle pod rested there.

"Gee, I guess the others have already left," he said with feigned surprise.

"How convenient," she murmured dryly, stepping inside and taking a seat near the back.

Malcolm wondered if his manipulation had been less stealthy that he'd assumed. Shrugging he slipped into the pilot's seat and confirmed that the rest of their party had managed to fit into the other pod before calling the tower and getting clearance for takeoff.

"This is a different hangar than the one we used last time," he remarked casually as he lifted off from the enormous covered platform and drifted toward the exit portal. "There are fewer people loitering about."

"Of course," she agreed. "Eckta's getting ready to run. He kicked out the riff raff and he's preparing to maneuver. It is a space station, you know."

Malcolm couldn't really think of anything else to say to her. Why was it so hard to start a conversation? He had been an ass and he wanted to apologize; how hard could that be? Reed started making idle chitchat instead. "Where do you think he'll go?"

"No idea."

"Why don't you make an educated guess." Reed tried to make it easy on her by calling up a star chart. "We're right here." He pointed helpfully.

She heaved a sigh, studying the map reluctantly. "Well, he can't go much farther down. He's got a thing about Klingons and they own the lower sectors. And he probably won't head too much closer toward Earth because there are too many civilizations and border patrols, not to mention the Orion territories. And the sectors further up are considered haunted and Eckta's superstitious. It's anyone's guess. He'll probably risk the Klingons."

"Haunted?" He tossed a disbelieving glance over his shoulder as he maneuvered through the complicated system of asteroids.

"Sure, old space stories tell of a 'darkness that moves.' They say it 'swallows ships whole.' They say you can't even see it coming until it's too late." Under different circumstances she might have gone on to tell him the whole legend, but it was late and she was tired.

"You should tell that story to Travis. He loves a good haunted space story." They just cleared the thickest part of the asteroid field which made Reed sigh with relief. There was just a thinner veil of rubble keeping them from open space.

"He's a Boomer; I'm sure he's heard them." Andie fell silent. This might be a good moment to tell him the whole sordid thing. The tiny ship lurched quickly to port to avoid a tumbling rock and she decided against it. There wasn't enough time to tell it properly and he needed his attention on the debris field. Her relief was too quick for her own comfort. She idly considered the logistics of filling her schedule so full each and every day that she would never have time to tell him the story of her misbegotten youth. She bit her lip, knowing that course of action wouldn't be practical.

"Look…" Malcolm began then paused. "I wanted to apologize to you for my behavior before. It was unforgivable."

Andie was actually taken aback. She couldn't think which actions he was apologizing for, unless it was his suggestion to take Jase's woman with them. "No worries. Forget it." She settled back into her chair, staring out at the star field through the porthole.

"I'm not usually so agitated and you've been rather gracious in the face of my…"

"It's no problem." She fiddled with the edge of her sleeve. "Your behavior was understandable." Her voice faded away.

Malcolm thought that might be as close to an apology as he'd get from her. He resisted the urge to huff with frustration and tried another tactic. "You said something before I succumbed to the coma, something about Post Traumatic Stress?" Knots formed in his gut; being treated for emotional distress would not help his chances for promotion.

"You want me to test you for it when we return?" She could not know that her guilt at presenting his dream state to the captain while insinuating he was unstable would cause her taciturn state to sound to him like boredom.

"Do you think I might have it?" He wondered if they might require a good security man in the looney bin.

"Everyone on board has been under a great deal of pressure lately. Anything's possible. I'll make an appointment for tomorrow." She dug through the small satchel that rested at her feet. From its depths she pulled out a data pad.

"That's not necessary!" He stopped her from placing the appointment. "Do you think my subspace relays are responsible for Blau tracing you?"

She sighed and rolled her head around her neck. "I shouldn't have said that. I mean, if Jase was monitoring human communications, he already knew where I was. It was just a matter of time before he found me. You had nothing to do with that."

"I'm glad you decided to stay with us though. And not run off somewhere where we couldn't find you." He tried for a light-hearted smile. His words were meant to be soothing but they just made her more anxious.

"Yeah, you're stuck with me now," she muttered. "Do you mind? I think I fastened my ears too tight. I'm beginning to get a headache."

Her tone was brisk and Malcolm was out of conversational topics. "Fine," he nodded curtly. He concentrated on the path before him, docking the small shuttle pod with the larger ship with careful precision.


Andie's head was pounding by the time she'd removed all the Vulcan prosthetics and washed up. It was long past the dinner hour and she was starving. She was looking forward to a quick snack and a long nap right up until the moment she stepped inside the Mess Hall and found Trip standing in the semi-darkness with a mug in his hands.

Gathering a sandwich and a glass of iced tea didn't take long. Knowing that one of her tasks lay before her nearly sapped her hunger. Archer hadn't put a time line on her forced debriefing, which was an oversight that she planned to milk for its full advantage with Lt. Reed. She didn't trust him. That incident with the fractured knee cap still preyed on her mind, as did his apparent hallucination of ladies long dead. He may or may not have been part of some military group under cover in Eckta's Reef many years ago, but she didn't want to take the chance that his dislike of her would put her own career at risk by his inability to keep her background a secret.

She may intend to wait until Doomsday to tell Reed anything he didn't need to know, but Tucker was another problem. On the whole she preferred to deal with problems right away; otherwise the anticipation would drive her crazy. She wasn't the kind to enjoy the buildup of suspense. She really preferred instant gratification. But in this case she might be willing to drag her feet a bit.

"You've been standing there a long while," Trip noted quietly without turning around. "Please tell me you're not just looking at my butt." His mouth twitched at the joke.

"Sorry," she smiled ruefully. "I was lost in thought." She sat at the closest table and took a bite of her sandwich.

"Penny for your thoughts, my mom always says," he said as he took the chair next to hers.

"I guess financial inflation never caught up to your mother," Andie grinned, taking another bite. Her jaw froze mid-chomp. Something he'd just said sent her into deep introspection and she forgot to chew.

Trip chuckled. "Maybe she's just thrifty." He sipped his beverage. "You can't sleep?"

"I was checking on a few remaining patients and then I was taking off my ears and feeding the cats and I guess bed would be next on my list," she admitted. She swallowed, suddenly feeling like her tuna and cheese was made of grave dirt. First she had to deal with this problem. "I have bottle of red wine in my room," she started slowly. "Would you mind sitting up with me and we could talk?"

"I don't know," he hedged. "It's getting kind of late. People might talk." He knew how quickly they would start talking too. Phrases like 'you're kind of hard to miss' were burned into his brain along with his flaming cheeks.

"Talk about what?" she asked, shoving the last of the sandwich into her mouth and trying to chew around the crust of bread.

"You know," he stammered, "A man and woman sitting alone together and drinking alcohol? It makes a certain assumption."

"That people who are sitting together could not actually be sitting alone at the same time?" she asked with a grin. Her grin faded. "You know what? Forget it. I'm just going to sit in my room for a while. I don't really need to talk about anything right now. You just don't even worry about me."

Trip eyed her dubiously and tried not to squirm. "Did you have to pack your bags before you launched that guilt trip?" he wondered out loud.

Her face broke into a quick grin. "I travel light."

He tried to think of some engineering emergency that would require his presence at work earlier than was necessary and couldn't think of a single one. "Sure, let's drink a toast," he agreed. He thought it might be easier than arguing with her. "We'll drink to Phlox, okay? One glass?"

"Sure," she agreed, looking particularly somber considering she just got what she wanted. Her mind was obviously elsewhere. "I'll meet you in your quarters in a few minutes." She dropped her plates in the basin and headed out the door.

Trip sat for a few minutes, wondering if he made the right choice. He didn't want to lead her on, but she seemed a little lost at the moment. It couldn't hurt to act like her big brother for a bit. She hadn't even made a joke about his pants at all. He set his own mug in the basin and headed back to his quarters.

He'd barely made it inside the door when his chime rang. "That was quick!" he joked as he pushed the button to open the portal.

"I am accustomed to reading material quickly," T'Pol announced, surprised by his greeting. Trying to maintain her composure, she handed over the book she'd borrowed. "It was an interesting if simplistic premise that lacked a socio-political overview and global historical context."

Trip took the book in his large hands. He'd forgotten that he'd lent this to T'Pol some time ago. It was called Little House on the Prairie, by Laura Ingalls Wilder, and it had been one of his sister's favorite books. It was an old copy that had been recently been rebound by a rare book shop who specialized in such restorations. Lizzie, his little sister, had loved the story about two young girls and their parents making their home on the edge of the frontier. She used to beg him to take her to the prairie museum several times a year. The last couple of times she asked, he'd been too busy to take her. Holding the book was sort of like holding his sister's hand one more time.

"I forgot about this," he admitted hesitantly. "Thanks for bringing it back."

"You seemed to expect me," T'Pol pointed out. She wondered why she was lingering in the door.

"Actually I was expecting…someone else." He felt like his face was on fire as he admitted this to T'Pol. He shouldn't be embarrassed; she was married after all. Their relationship had never been personal like that. He was free to see anybody he wanted. She stayed with Koss after all. Trip couldn't even hate him; Koss was a decent sort. He'd helped out Archer and T'Pau when they were trapped on Vulcan recently, on behalf of his wife. Trip shouldn't feel guilty at all.

"At this hour?" she questioned sharply. Her Trellium addiction was the only reason she could think of for that unfortunate outburst. She did not care with whom he spent his free time or when.

"Yeah, at this hour," Trip countered. Now he was annoyed; she had no right to judge what he did with his spare time or who he might spend it with. "It was the only free time we had today." He didn't raise his voice, but he was fighting the urge to retain his natural drawl. His diction grew more pronounced when he was upset.

"Am I interrupting something?" Andie watched the pair spin around to take in her presence. "I can come back some other time."

"Nah, come on in!" Trip stepped back to let her enter. Something passed over T'Pol's face. It might have been relief or understanding. Whatever it was allowed her shoulders to relax, as she stepped back to allow the doctor passage.

"Excuse me, I must go," the Vulcan admitted softly. Her heart pounded in her chest. Her self-control was slipping. It must have to do with the late hour; perhaps it was time to meditate. "Thank you for the loan," she reiterated to the engineer.

Trip watched her disappear down the corridor before pulling his head back in and turning to Andie who was already expertly pulling a cork from the bottle neck. "That looks great!" he chirped loudly to dispel his own feelings of weirdness.

"If you need to speak with T'Pol we can put this off for another night," Andie told him, staring at him almost earnestly.

"Don't worry. She was just returning a book I loaned her." He held out the tome for Andie to catch the title. Instead of glancing at it, she snatched it out of his hands. "It used to belong to m'sister."

"Oh. Oh! Ooooh!" she muttered to herself as she perused the summary on the back cover. "She was returning your book!" A book that no doubt had to do with log cabins and chopping wood and might possibly explain why a Vulcan and a human were dreaming the same dream at the same approximate time, Andie thought quickly.

"Yeah, just returning a book," Trip agreed, curious at her outburst. "You want to borrow it?"

"No thank you," she shook her head and pushed it back into his hands. "I just…it answered…never mind." She offered him a glass of the dark red liquid.

"To Phlox," Trip said, lifting his glass. "May he recover swiftly in the hands of his countrymen." Realizing how that must sound, he tried to back track. "Not that you're not perfectly capable of…"

"To Phlox," Andie cut him off with a sardonic smile. She sipped, making herself comfortable on the foot of his bunk. "You like stories? I've got a story for you. It's a little long and kind of a secret. If you were anybody else I'd have to kill you after telling you this tale!"

"Sounds dangerous!" His smile was much more normal this time. He sat down on the chair that sat in front of his computer and prepared to hear her yarn.

Of course, after he heard her tale, he wasn't smiling anymore. It made him a little sick to his stomach.