CHAPTER 6;
FACING REALITY
Trip was on edge, shifting on his booted feet beside Archer, staring around sickbay, awaiting Dr. Phlox's comments. Porthos sat on the floor between them, pining, staring with liquid brown eyes up at Trip, who glanced down at the animal, sighing. If Porthos had not been present, would they still have detected the blood?
Trip didn't like to think about it. This whole situation was strange enough without wondering what the blood was all about.
Dr. Phlox looked up from his analysis of the blood, and sighed heavily. The alien doctor looked troubled. He stood from the desk, and paced over to the Captain and Commander.
"It is human blood, Captain, and it is quite fresh," Phlox informed them, a grave expression on his toned face.
Trip frowned. "Is it Crewman Matheson?" Trip could only come to the conclusion that it did belong to the young crewman. What else would explain it, or the woman's disappearance?
Archer seemed to be in agreement that that could be the only explanation for the blood his dog had discovered.
Phlox sighed. "I have examined the blood, and come to a conclusion of it's origin…" he trailed off, rather ominously.
Archer swallowed dryly. "So… who does it belong to?" His voice was urgent, his tone insistent.
Trip glanced from Archer to Phlox, desperate to find out the answer to his friend's question that was just about to be provided.
"The blood does not belong to Crewman Matheson," Phlox told them.
Trip felt himself sigh. Good, he thought, at least she's not hurt.
"It belongs to Lieutenant Reed."
Ensign Hoshi Sato was terrified. She had received the information that the blood Porthos had discovered belonged to Malcolm… her friend Malcolm. She could barely contain her fright as she sat trembling at her comm station. She took a deep calming -or what she had intended to be calming- breath, and demanded that her eyes focus properly. They obeyed.
"Is everything okay, Ensign?" she heard Archer ask, and she looked in his direction as he paced behind Travis.
She hesitated, and then decided that -as her grandmother had always told her- honesty was the best policy. She shook her head.
"No, sir, I'm not," she said with a quaky voice.
Archer sighed, and nodded. "I know what you mean, Hoshi. Take a break. We'll call you if we need you."
Hoshi nodded gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I'll be okay."
Archer nodded, dismissing her.
Hoshi stood from her station, and left the bridge, walking into the turbolift.
She stood, arms crossed, against the side of the lift, and breathed heavily.
She felt her throat begin to close up, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Don't," she told herself sternly, trying to stand up straight, "don't cry."
It was no good.
A single tear fell down her face, and then another. Before long, she was crying freely, although quietly.
She felt the lift coming to a stop, and tried to use her sleeve to wipe away the tears, without much success as more tumbled down her cheeks.
The doors opened, displaying Commander Tucker.
"Hoshi? Hoshi, are you okay?" he asked in his thick Southern accent that she always found so refreshing and charming.
Finding words so difficult all of a sudden, she sniffed and shook her head, looking at Commander Tucker with her tear-filled green eyes.
Trip moved into the lift with her, and took her in his arms, embracing her gently for comfort, comfort she found welcoming.
"It'll be okay. We'll find Malcolm… don't worry." Trip looked down at her, releasing her from the embracing hug. He tried to look into her eyes, but she averted her gaze, feeling ashamed she had allowed him to see her cry. He was a superior officer, and she couldn't help but feel silly, and childish.
"What if we don't find him?" she asked with a choked voice, wiping her eyes with her sleeve once again, with more success as she managed to calm herself an acceptable amount.
Trip didn't seem to have considered this perspective, and suddenly lost his optimism. His brow furrowed in worry, and his shoulders slumped. He shoved his hands roughly into his pockets, and shrugged.
"We'll just have to hope we do find him."
FACING REALITY
Trip was on edge, shifting on his booted feet beside Archer, staring around sickbay, awaiting Dr. Phlox's comments. Porthos sat on the floor between them, pining, staring with liquid brown eyes up at Trip, who glanced down at the animal, sighing. If Porthos had not been present, would they still have detected the blood?
Trip didn't like to think about it. This whole situation was strange enough without wondering what the blood was all about.
Dr. Phlox looked up from his analysis of the blood, and sighed heavily. The alien doctor looked troubled. He stood from the desk, and paced over to the Captain and Commander.
"It is human blood, Captain, and it is quite fresh," Phlox informed them, a grave expression on his toned face.
Trip frowned. "Is it Crewman Matheson?" Trip could only come to the conclusion that it did belong to the young crewman. What else would explain it, or the woman's disappearance?
Archer seemed to be in agreement that that could be the only explanation for the blood his dog had discovered.
Phlox sighed. "I have examined the blood, and come to a conclusion of it's origin…" he trailed off, rather ominously.
Archer swallowed dryly. "So… who does it belong to?" His voice was urgent, his tone insistent.
Trip glanced from Archer to Phlox, desperate to find out the answer to his friend's question that was just about to be provided.
"The blood does not belong to Crewman Matheson," Phlox told them.
Trip felt himself sigh. Good, he thought, at least she's not hurt.
"It belongs to Lieutenant Reed."
Ensign Hoshi Sato was terrified. She had received the information that the blood Porthos had discovered belonged to Malcolm… her friend Malcolm. She could barely contain her fright as she sat trembling at her comm station. She took a deep calming -or what she had intended to be calming- breath, and demanded that her eyes focus properly. They obeyed.
"Is everything okay, Ensign?" she heard Archer ask, and she looked in his direction as he paced behind Travis.
She hesitated, and then decided that -as her grandmother had always told her- honesty was the best policy. She shook her head.
"No, sir, I'm not," she said with a quaky voice.
Archer sighed, and nodded. "I know what you mean, Hoshi. Take a break. We'll call you if we need you."
Hoshi nodded gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I'll be okay."
Archer nodded, dismissing her.
Hoshi stood from her station, and left the bridge, walking into the turbolift.
She stood, arms crossed, against the side of the lift, and breathed heavily.
She felt her throat begin to close up, and her eyes filled with tears.
"Don't," she told herself sternly, trying to stand up straight, "don't cry."
It was no good.
A single tear fell down her face, and then another. Before long, she was crying freely, although quietly.
She felt the lift coming to a stop, and tried to use her sleeve to wipe away the tears, without much success as more tumbled down her cheeks.
The doors opened, displaying Commander Tucker.
"Hoshi? Hoshi, are you okay?" he asked in his thick Southern accent that she always found so refreshing and charming.
Finding words so difficult all of a sudden, she sniffed and shook her head, looking at Commander Tucker with her tear-filled green eyes.
Trip moved into the lift with her, and took her in his arms, embracing her gently for comfort, comfort she found welcoming.
"It'll be okay. We'll find Malcolm… don't worry." Trip looked down at her, releasing her from the embracing hug. He tried to look into her eyes, but she averted her gaze, feeling ashamed she had allowed him to see her cry. He was a superior officer, and she couldn't help but feel silly, and childish.
"What if we don't find him?" she asked with a choked voice, wiping her eyes with her sleeve once again, with more success as she managed to calm herself an acceptable amount.
Trip didn't seem to have considered this perspective, and suddenly lost his optimism. His brow furrowed in worry, and his shoulders slumped. He shoved his hands roughly into his pockets, and shrugged.
"We'll just have to hope we do find him."