Author's Notes: As planned, the story was ending after Chapter 16. But then I became caught up in the interaction between Archer and the Vulcans, E'Shara, etc. All chapters since Chapter 14 are bonus chapters:) I'm not going to try and predict when the story ends.

Sorry for the long gap. A little preoccupied by current events, like many others...

xxx

Hess

Hess tapped her chief on the shoulder, "Hey, it's getting close to the time limit, you've got to get back to Enterprise." Good thing Phlox'd asked her to keep an eye on Trip, the man would kill himself trying to find the data. Not that she could blame him. Trip pulled his upper body out from the helm console where he'd been working, awkwardly crunched between the pilot seats. There were dark pouches under his eyes. The engineer stretched and checked his com. It felt like he'd been jammed in a couple of feet of space. "There's still time," he said, and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, spreading grime and dust all over his face.

Hess thought he looked like a sick raccoon. Actually she thought he looked like hell, but she wasn't going to tell him. He'd been looking like hell since he'd come back from Sickbay, pale and stiff and pretty much morose. The whole engineering team'd wondered what happened, would have kept wondering but for Hoshi, who was Hess's sister-from-another-mother. And who could get any information out of Phlox. Through her, they'd learned that the Vulcan healers had been able to communicate through Trip even though he was in a coma. She wasn't quite sure how that happened but it explained why Trip'd been looking like he had the hangover of the century.

Before she had the opportunity to argue that there really wasn't time, Trip literally dropped out of her sight, contorting himself back into the narrow opening of the console. Hess sighed. This was so familiar. He only listened to her about engineering stuff. When it came to anything else, the man was as stubborn as a mule. Plus Trip was her commanding officer and that didn't really help make him do what she said. She looked around at the broken hull, the empty cargo space of the alien ship, wondering how she was going to convince him to stop what he was doing and get back to the ship. Once the Vulcan healers had left Enterprise, they'd sped back to the planet with the broken ship, looking for anything that could tell them where it came from. They had no ideas where that might be or what it might look like, so of course Engineering was involved. Because who else could pull a miracle out of their butt on request?

Well, it wasn't quite all Engineering, almost everyone on the ship had volunteered to help with the wild goose chase. To stretch their legs she suspected. Teams went planetside in three-hour shifts. Some were fanning outside, looking for any piece that had sheared off from the ship on impact. She and Trip were inside, taking the helm apart, imbedded circuit by imbedded circuit, hoping one of those held the database helm commands, perhaps the flight plan, a set of coordinates. If there was such a thing and it hadn't been crushed on impact or long gone back to its component atoms, who knew how long the ship'd been sitting there, broken and gathering dust.

"Coming to relieve Commander Tucker!"

The call almost made her jump, interrupting her train of thought. She turned to glare at Travis, who responded with an impish smile. He knew full well he'd startled her, probably did it on purpose. Hess shook her head, silently signaling to the console where Trip was holed up. All had precise instructions from Phlox about making sure the engineer did not spend one minute more than prescribed planetside. She leaned over, "Hey, Chief! Time to get back to the ship!"

There was a grunt or a groan from under the helm and that was all. She turned to Travis with an expression of 'please help'.

Travis nodded at her that he understood. He leaned over the console in turn. "COMMANDER!" he shouted, his voice booming in the tight confines before spreading outward through the ruptured hull.

There was a bang and a curse. Hess repressed a snort. Trip must have been startled into hitting something. Then "Travis?" Came a disembodied voice from under the console.

Travis leaned further over, "Commander, Dr. Phlox asked me to let you know he's increased Commander T'Pol's life support settings."

There was another curse, followed by silence. Finally noises and movements let them know Trip was coming out from under the helm console. The chief engineer was covered in dust and grime, looking about ready to pass out. "Ok, ok. I need to get back to the ship," he said to Hess. She refrained from pointing out that's what she'd been telling him for the past twenty minutes. Trip lurched away, his limbs stiff from being squeezed under the helm.

Hess and Travis watched him and then she turned to Travis, "Was that true?"

Travis shrugged, "No. Phlox said to use whatever it took to get him back. He said he'd cover."

Hess nodded, looking towards where Trip had exited the ship through the hull breach. She turned back towards the helm, "Well, let's see if that thing can spit out its secrets." She looked at Travis, "You want dibbs?"

The helmsman dubiously looked at the space Trip had been stuck in, and made a face, "Looks like a tight space."

"We have lube," Hess said, staring down with him. There were a couple of heartbeats and then Travis chuckled. Hess threw her head back and laughed uproariously. God, she was a riot.

xxx

Trip

Archer was waiting in the transporter room, nodded at Trip as he finished materializing. "Anything?" he asked.

The engineer shook his head, "All the components are embedded in the console, like that thing was made as a single piece. Every time I take a layer off, I may be crushing the navigational software. Not that I'd know what it looks. Plus E'Shara said some of them fly, perhaps they don't need one." Trip realized he was oxygen-starved, his limbs laden with lead. Good thing he was on his way to Sickbay. "Perhaps their navigational software is in their brain, like homing pigeons," he added, "we could be straight out of luck."

Archer had been nodding all along. That last statement brought his attention. "Homing pigeons?"

"They have a special ability to get back to their home from wherever," Trip explained, "they were used for warfare centuries ago." He went on to Sickbay, leaving a thoughtful Archer behind him.

xxx

Phlox

Phlox took a sharp breath in between his teeth. "I don't know... Even if it didn't seem insane, I doubt the Commander would agree."

"No more insane than what we've already been through," Archer replied, "All we have to do is tell the alien we're looking for the location of its planet."

"The realm..." Phlox corrected.

"Yeah, the realm," Archer replied. "It must be on the planet."

The doctor shifted, obviously ill at ease, "From a medical perspective, Commander Tucker is fully recovered from the... experience...," he let his voice trail, there was no word for 'being-used-as-a-phone-line-while-in-a-coma', "but I wouldn't approach him until the approach has been, hmmm, fully vetted strategically." He looked at Archer, hoping the Captain would catch his drift. Captain Archer was very adept at getting Enterprise in delicate situations and calls for caution were always useful, if seldom heeded.

That did not have the desired effect. His comment seemed to energize Archer further, as if it shored up what he was thinking, "We know the alien energy form wants to get to that realm more than anything in the world," he replied. "It won't do anything to jeopardize that. There's no risk."

Phlox eyed him dubiously, thinking the proof of that was on the lighter side. Everything always sound so plain and simple when the Captain talked. That seldom held true in real life, and they'd all had plenty of experiences to that effect. He shook his head, "You still have to get Commander Tucker to agree," he pointed out. He doubted very much that Trip would be inclined to go along with the plan.

xxx

Trip

"Ah, Trip! Glad to find you here! I have to talk to you," Archer called as he entered Sickbay and saw the younger man making his way back from the isolation room, Dr. Phlox at his side. The doctor stopped and started rocking on his heels ever so slightly, hands behind his back, watching the Captain with great interest.

"Huh..." was Trip's verbose response. He was tired, he'd come to check on T'Pol, gotten a full lecture from Phlox about pushing the limits of the hemoxygen, rested, ate, came to check on T'Pol again. All he wanted to do was get back to the alien wreck and continue digging around for the navigational database. Because it had to be there. He just knew it.

"There may be an alternative to finding the location information," Archer said, looking pointedly back at Phlox. When the engineer didn't show much interest, he went on, "If the aliens are homing pigeons, as you say, perhaps all we have to do is let them guide us there."

"Huh?" Trip said again. How did Archer plan to have the alien guide them there? The thing didn't even have a physical existence.

Archer could see he was going to have to spit it out. "Through you!" he exclaimed, "The alien can guide the ship through you! All we have to do is let it get to where it wants to go. We don't have to find the coordinates!"

"What?!" Trip startled back as if he'd been stung.

"You said it yourself, if they're like homing pigeons, the navigational software is in their brains. E'Shara told us the alien was trying to get us to the realm. How about we let it?"

"But how would it..." Trip started shaking his head vehemently as he figured out what Archer was thinking, "No! I'm not letting that thing back in my mind! Once was enough, thank you!"

"You don't have to let it back in your mind," Archer replied quickly. He took a breath, what came next needed to be stated delicately, "...but since you already have a bond with T'Pol..."

"That's not how it works!" Trip raised his voice. "It's not like some kind of...," his voice trailed as the technical possibility started building itself in his engineering mind. Phlox and Jon were looking at him silently, both very aware that was exactly how it'd worked when the Vulcans were aboard. "...We don't know if it can happen again," Trip was going through the arguments as he too became aware that's how it'd worked, "...We'd have to talk to the alien..." Plus, that thing was holding T'Pol hostage, refusing to release her until they got to the planet, putting her life in jeopardy. Even if she seemed stable, there was only so much time until her life signs started ebbing slowly. "...What if it won't release me?" They were already deprived of a science officer, who might already have figured out the alien planet coordinates, too. What if Enterprise didn't have an engineer either... There was only one logical answer, "I'm not doing it, and you can't make me!" He shuddered inwardly. When he'd woken up from a dreamless vegetative state, feeling like he'd been run over by a repair cargo, slowly and several times, Phlox and E'Shara were leaning over him, watching him closely. He would never forget the scene.

(to be continued)