CHAPTER 20;
RECUPERATIONS
The sickbay seemed like a heavenly place after their captivity, and as Malcolm Reed looked around, he smiled a slight smile. He was glad to be out of that place, even though he had been in there dozens of times before, considering it was merely a cargo bay. But the darkness and cold that the alien had created sent a shudder through Reed, and he glanced across the room to the others.
Mayweather and Matheson had been released a short while ago, told to return to their quarters. They were not hurt badly, just shaken.
Captain Archer sat on the end of a bed, like Reed, wincing at an apparent pain in his back, and what Doctor Phlox had told him was two bruised ribs from the blow the alien had delivered.
Porthos sat on the floor at the Captain's feet, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, as if in a grin.
Sub-Commander T'Pol stood near to Archer, her hands behind her back loosely, one eyebrow raised. She had sustained no injury either, and for that, Reed was envious.
He had his arm in a sling, and had been told to come back to the sickbay the next day for more treatment. Apparently it would not take long for the bone to mend, and Reed thanked his lucky stars for that. On top of that, he had a slight concussion, which proceeded to make his head ache a considerable amount. The damage could have been a lot worse though, considering.
Commander Tucker, on the other hand, hadn't gotten off as lucky. He had two broken ribs; one bruised rib; some internal bleeding -which Phlox had managed to stop-; and a rather nasty blow to the head. He lay on a bed beneath a screen, and, as he had been since defeating the alien, was unconscious.
Phlox was a little worried about Trip's injuries, but he claimed that he should be fine with some rest. a couple of weeks at the least.
Reed hopped off the bed carefully, and walked over, looking to the Captain.
"We should get back to the cargo bay. see what happened to the alien. I wanna know if it's still alive," Archer said, and Reed agreed with a silent nod. He was curious to know whether or not the damn thing still posed a threat.
T'Pol tilted her head slightly to the right, and said in a calm, smooth voice, "I do not advise returning to that area of the ship, Captain. If the alien is indeed still alive, it could attack without provocation."
"It already did, T'Pol."
"It was not attacking us, Captain. Whilst in momentary connection with the alien, I learned that it needs powerful psychic energies to survive, such as fear, anger or joy. Fear seems to be the best provider, and so, the alien called on our fears to sustain itself whilst aboard Enterprise."
Reed looked to Captain Archer for a response, and as usual, the Captain didn't disappoint.
"There was no reason to do what it did. If it had made contact, we could have made some sort of arrangement."
"And how would you have done this? Scared each other with your human pranks until the alien felt it had had enough, and simply left?"
Archer glared at T'Pol, and the look on his face said everything. He was not in the mood for Vulcan cynicism.
"How did it get aboard in the first place?" Archer looked to Reed this time, and the Lieutenant felt as though he were being put under a spotlight.
He quickly responded though, "I'm not sure, sir, but it could have been any number of ways. It could have crept aboard one of the pods whilst we on an away mission; an alien ship could have smuggled it aboard, or the alien could have travelled from one to the other; it could have been from the cargo itself; or its capable of living in space, and entered the ship whilst we were travelling ourselves." He shrugged.
Archer nodded, and sighed. With so many variables, it would be difficult to track down the source of the alien invader.
The Captain stood from the bed, casting a momentary glance over at Trip, and left the room, followed by Reed and T'Pol.
* * *
Archer stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the cargo bay, his jaw dropping open, and his heart skipping a beat from the shock.
It was gone.
There was nothing left. apart from a few dots of blood that had dripped from the alien's nose when Reed had slammed his boot into it. That was all that remained. there was no tracks, no point of exit, no sign of the alien creature at all.
Beside him, T'Pol raised an eyebrow, and Reed looked more confused than Archer had ever seen the British man.
"What happened to it?" he asked no one in particular, but as usual, T'Pol replied.
"I believe the creature survived Commander Tucker's phase pistol shot, and whilst we were in sickbay, made its escape, probably fearing its own demise at our hands."
Archer looked to her. "Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?"
Again, she raised a single eyebrow.
Porthos started sniffing around, and after a few moments, returned to stand beside Archer, not a noise escaping from the beagle. Surely enough, the creature was gone, but where it had disappeared to was a mystery to Archer.
Reed took a glance into the now normally lit room, and shook his head. "I can't see any sign of it, sir."
"Dammit," Archer mumbled, realising he had missed out on yet another first contact. well, almost.
* * *
With an aching head, and an incredibly sore body, Trip woke, looking up through squinted eyes at the lights of sickbay, or what he assumed was sickbay anyway.
He was alone, from what he could figure. Phlox must have gone off to eat, or rest.
As his eyes opened fully, he remembered just what had transpired for him to be so sore, and he held a hand to his head, suddenly slightly wary of the silence surrounding him.
Just then, bringing him some comfort in the form of company, Jonathan Archer walked through the door, Porthos at his feet.
Trip tried to sit up, but Jon held up a hand.
"I'd lie still if I were you. Phlox repaired your internal bleeding, but you still have your broken ribs to worry about," Jon told him, and gave him a wan smile.
Trip sighed. It looked as though some more time off was in order. He would be bored out of his mind. maybe he could read one of Jon's books.
He looked suddenly to Jon, and regretted the swiftness of his action afterwards, as his head throbbed. "What happened to the alien? Is it dead?"
Jon hesitated, and then shook his head. "It's not dead, Trip."
"Then where is it?" He started looking around slowly, expecting the alien to appear out of the shadows, and attack. He shuddered.
"We. we don't know."
That comment earned Jon a look, one of sheer confusion. "What? How could you lose track of a fourteen foot alien?"
"It must have slipped away while we were in here somehow. I'm still trying to figure out how it got out of the ship, and back to wherever it came from," Jon told Trip, and the Commander let out another sigh.
"Did you manage to figure out what it wanted?"
Jon brightened slightly at this inquiry, and he launched into an explanation, "From what T'Pol tells me, it was here to. to feed on our fear, or something similar. She said it needs powerful psychic energies -like the ones generated by fear, anger and joy- to survive. That's why it was here. it manifested our fears, and benefited from them."
Trip closed his eyes against the harshness of the sickbay lights for a moment, and tried to fathom what his friend had just told him.
"You're tellin' me that it scared the hell outta us just to keep on livin'?"
"Something like that, yeah. T'Pol can explain it better," Jon said with a shrug.
Trip let himself smile. "I'm sure she can."
Jon laughed, and reached down to pick up Porthos, who seemed happy to see Trip awake again, as he let out a little excited bark.
Trip laughed, and held a hand to his side, reaching out with the other to pet the little animal.
As he and Jon conversed in sickbay, Trip realised that that terrifying alien must still be out there somewhere, hunting for the energies it needed. the fear it desired.
Somewhere out there, it was still stalking in the shadows.
RECUPERATIONS
The sickbay seemed like a heavenly place after their captivity, and as Malcolm Reed looked around, he smiled a slight smile. He was glad to be out of that place, even though he had been in there dozens of times before, considering it was merely a cargo bay. But the darkness and cold that the alien had created sent a shudder through Reed, and he glanced across the room to the others.
Mayweather and Matheson had been released a short while ago, told to return to their quarters. They were not hurt badly, just shaken.
Captain Archer sat on the end of a bed, like Reed, wincing at an apparent pain in his back, and what Doctor Phlox had told him was two bruised ribs from the blow the alien had delivered.
Porthos sat on the floor at the Captain's feet, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, as if in a grin.
Sub-Commander T'Pol stood near to Archer, her hands behind her back loosely, one eyebrow raised. She had sustained no injury either, and for that, Reed was envious.
He had his arm in a sling, and had been told to come back to the sickbay the next day for more treatment. Apparently it would not take long for the bone to mend, and Reed thanked his lucky stars for that. On top of that, he had a slight concussion, which proceeded to make his head ache a considerable amount. The damage could have been a lot worse though, considering.
Commander Tucker, on the other hand, hadn't gotten off as lucky. He had two broken ribs; one bruised rib; some internal bleeding -which Phlox had managed to stop-; and a rather nasty blow to the head. He lay on a bed beneath a screen, and, as he had been since defeating the alien, was unconscious.
Phlox was a little worried about Trip's injuries, but he claimed that he should be fine with some rest. a couple of weeks at the least.
Reed hopped off the bed carefully, and walked over, looking to the Captain.
"We should get back to the cargo bay. see what happened to the alien. I wanna know if it's still alive," Archer said, and Reed agreed with a silent nod. He was curious to know whether or not the damn thing still posed a threat.
T'Pol tilted her head slightly to the right, and said in a calm, smooth voice, "I do not advise returning to that area of the ship, Captain. If the alien is indeed still alive, it could attack without provocation."
"It already did, T'Pol."
"It was not attacking us, Captain. Whilst in momentary connection with the alien, I learned that it needs powerful psychic energies to survive, such as fear, anger or joy. Fear seems to be the best provider, and so, the alien called on our fears to sustain itself whilst aboard Enterprise."
Reed looked to Captain Archer for a response, and as usual, the Captain didn't disappoint.
"There was no reason to do what it did. If it had made contact, we could have made some sort of arrangement."
"And how would you have done this? Scared each other with your human pranks until the alien felt it had had enough, and simply left?"
Archer glared at T'Pol, and the look on his face said everything. He was not in the mood for Vulcan cynicism.
"How did it get aboard in the first place?" Archer looked to Reed this time, and the Lieutenant felt as though he were being put under a spotlight.
He quickly responded though, "I'm not sure, sir, but it could have been any number of ways. It could have crept aboard one of the pods whilst we on an away mission; an alien ship could have smuggled it aboard, or the alien could have travelled from one to the other; it could have been from the cargo itself; or its capable of living in space, and entered the ship whilst we were travelling ourselves." He shrugged.
Archer nodded, and sighed. With so many variables, it would be difficult to track down the source of the alien invader.
The Captain stood from the bed, casting a momentary glance over at Trip, and left the room, followed by Reed and T'Pol.
* * *
Archer stopped dead in his tracks when he got to the cargo bay, his jaw dropping open, and his heart skipping a beat from the shock.
It was gone.
There was nothing left. apart from a few dots of blood that had dripped from the alien's nose when Reed had slammed his boot into it. That was all that remained. there was no tracks, no point of exit, no sign of the alien creature at all.
Beside him, T'Pol raised an eyebrow, and Reed looked more confused than Archer had ever seen the British man.
"What happened to it?" he asked no one in particular, but as usual, T'Pol replied.
"I believe the creature survived Commander Tucker's phase pistol shot, and whilst we were in sickbay, made its escape, probably fearing its own demise at our hands."
Archer looked to her. "Has anyone ever told you that you think too much?"
Again, she raised a single eyebrow.
Porthos started sniffing around, and after a few moments, returned to stand beside Archer, not a noise escaping from the beagle. Surely enough, the creature was gone, but where it had disappeared to was a mystery to Archer.
Reed took a glance into the now normally lit room, and shook his head. "I can't see any sign of it, sir."
"Dammit," Archer mumbled, realising he had missed out on yet another first contact. well, almost.
* * *
With an aching head, and an incredibly sore body, Trip woke, looking up through squinted eyes at the lights of sickbay, or what he assumed was sickbay anyway.
He was alone, from what he could figure. Phlox must have gone off to eat, or rest.
As his eyes opened fully, he remembered just what had transpired for him to be so sore, and he held a hand to his head, suddenly slightly wary of the silence surrounding him.
Just then, bringing him some comfort in the form of company, Jonathan Archer walked through the door, Porthos at his feet.
Trip tried to sit up, but Jon held up a hand.
"I'd lie still if I were you. Phlox repaired your internal bleeding, but you still have your broken ribs to worry about," Jon told him, and gave him a wan smile.
Trip sighed. It looked as though some more time off was in order. He would be bored out of his mind. maybe he could read one of Jon's books.
He looked suddenly to Jon, and regretted the swiftness of his action afterwards, as his head throbbed. "What happened to the alien? Is it dead?"
Jon hesitated, and then shook his head. "It's not dead, Trip."
"Then where is it?" He started looking around slowly, expecting the alien to appear out of the shadows, and attack. He shuddered.
"We. we don't know."
That comment earned Jon a look, one of sheer confusion. "What? How could you lose track of a fourteen foot alien?"
"It must have slipped away while we were in here somehow. I'm still trying to figure out how it got out of the ship, and back to wherever it came from," Jon told Trip, and the Commander let out another sigh.
"Did you manage to figure out what it wanted?"
Jon brightened slightly at this inquiry, and he launched into an explanation, "From what T'Pol tells me, it was here to. to feed on our fear, or something similar. She said it needs powerful psychic energies -like the ones generated by fear, anger and joy- to survive. That's why it was here. it manifested our fears, and benefited from them."
Trip closed his eyes against the harshness of the sickbay lights for a moment, and tried to fathom what his friend had just told him.
"You're tellin' me that it scared the hell outta us just to keep on livin'?"
"Something like that, yeah. T'Pol can explain it better," Jon said with a shrug.
Trip let himself smile. "I'm sure she can."
Jon laughed, and reached down to pick up Porthos, who seemed happy to see Trip awake again, as he let out a little excited bark.
Trip laughed, and held a hand to his side, reaching out with the other to pet the little animal.
As he and Jon conversed in sickbay, Trip realised that that terrifying alien must still be out there somewhere, hunting for the energies it needed. the fear it desired.
Somewhere out there, it was still stalking in the shadows.