Author's Notes: Italics in the text indicate the scene is in the past.

xxx

Trip (Cont'd)

Trip crossed his arms. He wouldn't do it. He wasn't going to. He was done having someone else in his head. Anyone. Other than T'Pol, of course. He remembered the scene when he woke up.

He opened his eyes to the anxious face of Phlox and the raised eyebrow of E'Shara, both leaning over him. Trip looked right and left, taking everything in. He tried to remember what had happened, why he was in Sickbay but came up blank.

There was a movement on his far right side and he saw Malcolm. It came back in a rush, the Vulcans, the Captain, Malcolm. He wasn't sure anymore what he'd been worried about, why he'd been afraid they were going to harm T'Pol. Malcolm. Son of a gun had stunned him. He threw a dark look at his friend. He'd better have a good reason, there'd be words later.

He made to sit up but Phlox's hand kept him in place. "How are you feeling?" Phlox asked.

E'Shara's eyebrows rose in silent comment at the impossible question. What did the doctor mean - intellectually, physically, spiritually, psionically?

The Human answered as if he understood the question, "Like I've been... like I've had more than one too many," he said, his voice hoarse.

Her eyebrows climbed higher at the nonsensical answer. Perhaps the engineer was showing signs of psychotic decompensation.

But the doctor obviously thought that the delusional answer was acceptable, "Good, good!" he said, grinning.

E'Shara catalogued the exchange for further analysis. A healer with more experience interfacing with aliens could help her decipher it. "Do you have any residual memories or mental impressions that are not yours?" she asked in turn.

That only earned her a non-plussed stare. The fact that the Human did not understand the question could only be an indication of brain damage. She turned to Dr. Phlox in silent confirmation that he had noticed the slip as well.

But the doctor didn't seem to note anything abnormal. He was talking again, "We've had... quite an interesting scene going on here. You don't remember anything, hmm?"

Trip shook his head. What was there to remember? He furrowed his brow, trying to recall. He suddenly turned around, trying to look beyond his biobed, "T'Pol! Is she-" he started.

"She's okay!" Phlox cut him off, "She's in the isolation unit..." Then as if he was reminded, "We've been able to establish contact with... the energy form."

"Is it a psionic parasite?" Trip asked worriedly.

Phlox exhaled, "No, it isn't a psionic parasite," he shook his head.

Trip exhaled in relief, sinking back against the bed. He looked up at Phlox, "So, you were able to get rid of it?"

Phlox looked at E'Shara, who looked back at him expressionlessly. The minutest emphasis of an eyebrow pressed him to keep going.

Someone cleared his throat at the foot of the biobed and Trip turned to Archer, who stepped nearer. "Well,..." the Captain started.

Trip just knew what he was going to say, "You didn't get rid of it?!" he asked accusingly. He made to sit up again and this time Phlox didn't hold him back. "What do you mean, you didn't get rid of it?!" Trip was turning red. Had they wasted the chance to rescue T'Pol?

Archer looked at E'Shara, who looked back at him expressionlessly.

Somehow or other, she seemed to sense he needed support. She addressed Trip, "We were able to make contact with the alien energy form and clarify its objectives. Its only aim is to go back to a specific site and the Captain has agreed to bring it there." Trip was eyeing her through narrowed eyes. She went on before he could ask, "Given the imbalance in power between the alien and Enterprise, it was agreed that the alien energy form would maintain its current locus." Archer looked up sharply. She didn't mention he was the one who'd agreed to that. A Vulcan helping him and not throwing him under the bus, well, well, would miracles ever cease.

Trip was staring slack-jawed as his brain slowly parsed what the Vulcan elder had said. "Are you telling me that that... that thing!... is still in T'Pol - and you let him stay there?!" he croaked. He swallowed, wondering why his throat was sore and parched, as if he'd been talking too long.

This time, it was Phlox who stepped forward, "Commander, why don't I catch you up on the events of the last few hours, while you were unconscious, hmmm?"

The retelling didn't take very long. Trip swallowed again, now he knew why his throat felt sore. He looked at E'Shara, "So you were in my head," the thought made him ill at ease, there were a few things in there he didn't really want Vulcans to know about... "Hope you didn't get spooked by the cobwebs in there," he said with a chuckle.

His attempt at humor fell flat. E'Shara just stood there, staring at him, blinking. "It would be biologically impossible for arachnids to reside in your head," she finally pointed out.

Trip felt himself blush. How obtuse could the healer be, really? "That's okay, it wasn't that funny," he muttered, mentally fishing around for anything to change the subject.

E'Shara was observing him keenly. His tone and his emotional projection were dissonant. An underlying current of anxiety was emanating from him. She had enough experience to know what that might be. "I was not 'in your head' as one would colloquially understand it," she enunciated clearly. "In the absence of your conscious acquiescence to a mindmeld, it was impossible for me to access your thoughts and emotions." The glimmer in the Human's eyes let her know she hit the mark. "The alien energy form may have leveraged your bond with Commander T'Pol, but only as a channel of communication. It did not have the psionic abilities to do more. Nobody was 'in your head'."

Trip relaxed, E'Shara could sense his relief. He was young. She had seen relationships of all kinds, had had many ponn fars herself, what he was worried about was no more than an incidental fact of life. She sensed a sudden surge of negative emotions coming from the Captain of the Enterprise.

She did not understand. Humans and their emotions, they were too mercurial, too labile, there was no underlying rationale. E'Shara wondered how T'Pol could stand it, how she could be bonded to one of these aliens.

Trip rolled his tongue inside his cheek. It's true that nobody had gotten inside his head, found out about him and T'Pol, some stuff he'd rather keep to himself. E'Shara'd said the alien didn't have the ability either. He realized Archer and Phlox were staring at him. He was a little bit tired of having everyone look at him that way.

"How would that even work?" he asked, "figuratively," he added, lest they'd think he was agreeing. "I am psi-blind and the alien energy form has no psionic abilities."

Archer glanced at Phlox and Trip had a sense there was another shoe to drop, though he had no idea what it was. "We now know we can talk to the alien, that it understands what we're saying," the Captain started. "As for the lack of psionic abilities...," Phlox shuffled nervously as if he knew what the Captain was going to say, "... somehow, the alien managed to get you to try and unplug the stasis field, and attack me." Trip swallowed nervously, staring at the sling around Archer's arm. Oh, yeah, now he remembered. Not that it helped his negotiating position any. "Now that we're all on the same page," Archer went on, "it will be a lot smoother."

"But you'll have to release the stasis field, no?" Trip asked.

"We don't have to," Phlox cheerfully answered, "It was able to influence you from under the stasis field."

"Even if we released the statis field," Archer added, "It won't move from there. T'Pol is its ticket home."

Trip eyed him silently. "So..." he finally said, "if I let him use T'Pol to connect with me..."

"... we can get it home and it releases T'Pol," Archer finished for him.

"And if I don't..." Trip went on,

"We could spend days looking for the planet coordinates," Archer replied, "And we're not sure of finding anything. And if we don't..."

Trip nodded. It was starting to sound like he had no choice...

xxx

Reed

Spooky. It's not a very tactical way to describe it, but the whole thing's spooky. He violently disagreed when Archer let him know about the plan. Sure, hand over the ship to the intruder on board, why not?! Not that the intruder hasn't taken over their First Officer and Science Officer, has almost taken over their Chief of Engineering, and come within a hairbreadth of taking over the Vulcan healers. Notwithstanding some dippings into their weapons and medical database. Why should anyone be worried?!

So what does Archer do? Let the intruder actually take over Commander Tucker and have him guide Enterprise to god-knows-where and god-knows-who's going to be waiting for them there, ready to plunder the ship and kill its crew. The Captain is insistant that it's in the alien's best interest to keep them whole and healthy. At least until they reach its planet, possibly, but then... Lieutenant Reed can give him a half-dozen scenarios of perverse betrayal, the many ways this could be a trap.

Not that there's much he can do about it in the end. He has to reluctantly acknowledge that they're dealing with a limited set of options. Not if they don't want to lose T'Pol. Which they don't. If only because the ship is much better off with her as a commanding officer. Much better.

Reed purses his lips into a thin line. He still doesn't like it one little bit. Plus, it's spooky as hell. Having Trip there, where Hoshi should be sitting, Travis at his right, nervously following to where Trip points out on his console.

It's become a well-honed process by now. Trip walks on the bridge, the bridge falls silent, it means there's going to be a change of direction, an adjustment, Hoshi gets up and steps aside, Trip sits down in her seat, shows Travis where they're headed next, waits until Travis lays in a new course, then leaves again, back to that godawful isolation unit. As soon as he's gone, Hoshi sits back down and Travis blows his cheeks in frustration. Without exact coordinates, he can't steer as efficiently as he'd like. And Tucker can't give them the coordinates, he doesn't even know where he's going himself. The alien navigates on sight, he's told them as much.

Reed looks up at the screen, squinting at where the danger could be coming from. At least they're now in a fairly desolate stretch of space, few planetary bodies. But they're headed for an area with a lot more stars. That may be good for Archer, who's bored out of his mind after days of impulse navigation, they can't afford to get too far off track, but for him, more stars only means more potential traps, more alien ships lying in wait for them to bring them one of their own.

He straightens up, checks the wallclock. They have at least six hours before they get there. At least. He'll have everyone in security on high alert well before that.

xxx