Chapter 2

Trip was beat, as he walked to his quarters. He had intended to work for a few hours then get something to eat and some rest. But then out of nowhere a plasma injector had blown just like that. While his crew worked on the repair, Trip had tried to find out the reason, to make sure that nothing like that could happen again. The equipment was well monitored at all times, it shouldn't be that an injector heated up like that unnoticed.

When Trip checked the time again, it was already late in the evening. His stomach rumbled and he couldn't keep his eyes open. Still, he forced himself to work another hour, until all the problems were solved to his complete satisfaction. Then he waved at Hess who had started her shift two hours before and shuffled to his quarters. Suddenly, he stopped to listen when he heard Malcolm's frustrated voice.

"Come on, Trip. Let me in. We need to talk. Answer the door, please."

Trip peeked around the corner. Malcolm stood in front of his quarters, ringing the bell for what looked like the umpteenth time and raking his hand through his hair in frustration. "I know you're in there, Trip. Your shift ended two hours ago, you weren't in the mess hall, you're not in the gym and I'm pretty sure that you're not in the captain's quarters watching a water-polo game. So just open up so we can talk."

Trip took a step back so that Malcolm wouldn't detect him. Now the armory officer wanted to talk? About what? The cogenitor? About how stupid Trip had acted and how he had endangered the ship? How he could consider himself lucky that the Vissians had been so understanding and didn't react hostile when they had discovered what he had done? No thank you, no need to talk about that, mister security officer.

"Okay. Be. My. Guest. Mr. Tucker," Malcolm spat out. "If you don't want to talk, that's fine with me." And with that Malcolm stomped away.

Trip waited until he'd rounded the corner before entering his quarters. He dismissed the thought of food, he would throw it up anyway. Without undressing, he let himself fall onto his bed and closed his eyes. He was sure he would go to sleep within seconds.

It appears you're doing everything you can to undermine the captain's wishes, T'Pol's voice echoed through his mind. First contacts are important to the captain. You may very well have damaged this one irreparably.

Trip started to sob from sheer exhaustion. He had to sleep, he just couldn't. T'Pol's words weighed heavily on him. He hadn't just damaged this first contact, but his relationship with the captain as well, and beyond repair. And maybe with the crew as well. He couldn't stand the stares when they measured him up with disgust or pity in their eyes. Even his engineering crew had started eying him stealthily.

Trip got up. No way could he go to sleep with these thoughts going round and round in his head. He sat down at his desk and skimmed through the latest reports. The exploration of the planetoid had been successful and the away teams had brought back a lot of material the science department could play with. Another report caught his eye. Sensors had picked up something that could be a dark matter nebula. For the first time since Charles had died, Trip felt something like excitement. It would be great to observe it. Although there wouldn't be much to be seen. Through his foggy and sleep deprived brain Trip seemed to remember that the Vulcans had experimented with the matter. It took him some time to pull up the article in the database, but was immediately intrigued by it. They had bombarded dark matter with metrion particles. Interesting. But the Vulcans had experimented only with small quantities of dark matter, this nebula would be a lot bigger. Could it be done? His fatigue all but forgotten, Trip took a quick shower, changed into a fresh uniform and got to work. He may have lost Jon's friendship, but he would show him that he still was the best engineer Enterprise could get.


"Commander?"

Trip looked up. "Anna. What can I do for you?"

"You've been working for the whole night, boss. Again. You need to take some rest."

"Nope. My shift just started."

"You can't go on like that, Commander. You need to sleep."

Trip sighed. If only it was possible. He had tried to nap for a few minutes when the computer had done its calculations, but it hadn't worked. As soon as he closed his eyes, he either saw Charles, Jon, or T'Pol accusing him of undermining the captain, sabotaging the missions and being responsible for Charles's death.

"Listen, Commander, it's not my place to tell you what to do, but maybe Phlox can help."

Trip looked at Hess. His second in command seemed to be truthfully worried. He gave her a small smile. "That's good advice, Anna. I'll give Phlox a visit after my shift."

"Not good enough, Commander, I have a feeling that you haven't slept for days. The work here is dangerous. We can't risk an accident because you're too tired to watch out. I'm sure the captain will grant you a day off. Or even two."

Trip sighed. She was right, of course. He had been plain lucky that all the sparks he had inadvertently set off because his foggy brain didn't register what he was doing hadn't seriously injured him or anyone else. He had been debating with himself for days if he should pay Phlox a visit or not, but he kept postponing the decision, hoping that the symptoms would vanish without the doctor's help. Maybe now was the time to finally admit that he couldn't go without it. Trip cringed at the thought of Phlox's well-meaning advices. Another one who would tell him it was his own fault that he couldn't sleep. But the doctor would help him. Trip nodded. He would go to his quarters, finish writing his report on the metrion particles research, and then ask Phlox to put him to sleep. He winced. Oh yeah, wouldn't that be just great!


His stomach was cramping in earnest by the time Trip finished his report. Hissing, he doubled over his desk. "Yeah, I know," he whispered, gritting his teeth. He had to eat. Maybe Phlox could help him with the nausea also, so he could keep some food down. He sent the report to T'Pol for her to check it out and got up, ready to leave for sickbay.

"Archer to Tucker."

When he heard the captain's voice coming through the intercom, Trip started badly. He hesitated.

"Commander, answer me." The voice was harsh, without even a hint of their friendship.

"Tucker here."

"Commander, I got word from the science department that the samples they got were soiled. They can't work with them. I want you to get down to the surface and collect some more. They need at least five more of those big stones."

"Me? Why me?"

"Because I say so. And do it quickly. I want to leave this planet as soon as possible."

"I was just going to get a bite to eat." Trip knew it was the wrong thing to say the moment the words left his mouth. Why the heck had he mentioned food now of all times?

"Why is that, Commander?" The voice grew even icier than before. "Your shift started more than an hour ago. Has it become your habit to eat during shifts?"

"No, Sir."

"Then take the shuttlepod and do as I told you. Take an EV-suit with you, the air down there is toxic, you don't want to breathe it. You shouldn't need more than an hour to get the samples, two hours top. I want to be underway at eleven hundred hours."

Trip still tried to wrap his mind around the order he had just been given.

"Commander?"

"Acknowledged, Captain." What else was he to say?

"Good. I guess collecting a few samples is something you can't mess up. Archer out."

Trip flinched at the testy tone. He closed his eyes as unwanted tears welled up. Jon was still mad at him. That was the only reason he was being tasked with flying to the planetoid and collecting some extra samples. That definitely wasn't a job for the chief engineer. Trip was so tired he barely remembered how to set one foot in front of the other, let alone fly a shuttlepod and get into an EV-suit. Briefly, he considered going to Phlox anyway, to ask for something to keep him awake, but he decided against it. He had to hurry, and keeping awake didn't seem to be a problem. All he had to do was to think about Archer or Charles.


Trip hurried through the pre-flight checks. When he took off, he had the distinct feeling that he had forgotten something, but he couldn't remember. He thought about it for a moment then dismissed the feeling. The shuttlepod's engines were humming perfectly fine and Trip found the sound strangely comforting. He doubled over when another cramp hit his empty stomach. Hissing, he rode out the pain, desperately waiting for it to subside. Swallowing dryly, he set the autopilot and stood up to rummage through the compartments in hope to find some ration packs, but there weren't any. The shuttlepod hadn't been restocked since the away team had come back. At least Trip found a few bottles of water. He drank greedily, but stopped when his stomach reacted with a fierce cramp to the cold fluid. Trip gritted his teeth, leaned again the bulkhead and closed his eyes, desperately trying to keep the water down. He had taken too much of it. His body tolerated even fluids only in very small quantities. He burped loudly and spit out a mouthful of water that had come back up, already mixed with the bitter taste of vomit. Utterly frustrated, he let himself fall onto the pilot's seat and allowed his eyelids to fall close.


An alarm woke him up. He had actually managed to sleep almost twenty minutes without any bad dreams. But it hadn't rested him. If anything, he felt even more tired than before. He scrambled to his feet. The image of the planet already filled the whole screen. Checking the sensors, Trip adjusted his course and looked for a suitable landing site. So far so good, he thought when he set the pod on the surface without a hitch.

Putting on the EV-suit proved to be a challenge. His movements were clumsy, and it took him more time than he had anticipated to get it on. Tiredly, he checked the air supply and with a deep sigh stepped outside the shuttlepod.

"Lovely surroundings," he muttered. The planetoid had a rocky surface that was covered in a thick mist about forty centimeters high, making it difficult to see all the stones underneath it. Some of the bigger stones were oozing some thick vapor. The readings told Trip that it was the source of the toxins that covered the surface. He had never seen anything like that. He opened one of the containers he had brought with him and tried to lift a stone that would fit in it. It was pretty heavy and when the task was finally done, Trip was panting. His head was aching and his stomach had decided to remind him once more that he hadn't eaten for days. Trip breathed through the cramps, but it didn't help much. The best he could do was proceed as quickly as possible and fly back to Enterprise where he could ask Phlox for help. Trip left the container where it was and stumbled forward to find another suitable stone, which was at least hundred meters away. He was sweating profusely as he dragged the two filled containers to the shuttlepod, and he had three more to fill. Two hours tops, yeah right, Cap'n. How about you do it yourself? But Trip didn't want to disappoint his captain again, so he ignored his aching stomach, the headache and the tiredness and picked up the pace.

He was going to have to drag the last container for about 500 meters and he was exhausted. It was difficult to find his footing with all the rocks hidden by the mist. It was more of a shuffling, constantly hitting some rocks with his boots. Trip stopped to catch his breath. Of their own accord, his eyes began to close and his head slowly sagged to his chest, but he was jerked awake when the container hit the ground. Oh geez, he'd almost fallen asleep, standing, in an EV-suit. He had to go back as quickly as possible. Getting down, he groped for the container and sighed when he realized that he still had about 150 meters to go.

I might have expected something like this from a first-year recruit, Jon's voice echoed through his mind. Sneaking into her quarters, bringing her on Enterprise, lying about where you were going, why? The voice Trip heard in his head got angrier with every word that was said, even angrier than the pain in his stomach. Jon was absolutely right, if someone in Trip's engineering crew had done something like this, Trip himself would have been furious. But it had felt the right thing to do. All he'd ever wanted was to help Charles. Yes, he had lied, and he knew why he hadn't even told Malcolm about it. Because he wouldn't have understood. Everyone would have considered what he had done wrong. But what could be wrong in showing a little kindness? Trip had never expected things turn out this way. "I'm so sorry, Charles," he sobbed. "Please forgive me."

His foot got caught on a sharp stone that lay under the mist and Trip fell down hard, while the container slipped from his grip. A sharp pain shot up his leg. Awkwardly, he turned around and moved it. It stung, but it was okay. Trip sighed with relief. At least there was nothing broken. He had to be more careful. When he tried to get up, however, his leg buckled beneath him and Trip fell down again, smashing the helmet of his EV-suit against a stone. He held his breath, listening to any sound that might indicate a leak. Once again, he seemed to be lucky. There was a crack in the visor, but apparently, it was holding. On hands and knees Trip searched for the container. He closed his eyes for a moment, when he eventually found it, contemplating if he just should stay down. Getting up seemed to be as hard as keeping his eyes open, but Trip willed himself to do both. Sharp stings of pain radiated from his leg, and he panted with every step he made. Tears of sheer exhaustion escaped from his eyes when he finally heaved the heavy containers into the shuttlepod and pulled himself in. After closing the hatch, he purged the toxic air and replaced it with breathable one. Now he only had to get rid of the EV-suit and set a course for his return.

As he struggled to get the EV-suit off, Trip noticed a long gash in the fabric around his right shin. He sighed. He was lucky that by producing this weird sort of mist the planetoid had created some sort of atmosphere. Tearing up an EV-suit in the vacuum of space was not a good idea. He had no clue if he had inhaled any toxins, but he felt fine. Just tired, but what was new? Sitting down on the floor, he clumsily pulled the suit off his legs. Mission accomplished.

Panting, Trip leaned his head against the bulkhead. Putting on his uniform again just seemed too much for the moment. The EV-suit's undergarments had to do for now. He had to close his eyes for a little while, before he could even think of doing something else. Just a couple of minutes.


Jon had fetched himself a cup of coffee and was making his way back to the bridge when he met a young ensign from science. "Did you get your samples?" he asked with a friendly smile.

"Yes, Captain, we now have a lot material to work with. These stones are magnificent. They stopped producing this mist as soon as they were removed from the surface, which is a pity but also a good thing, otherwise we would have the corridors covered in mist within a few days." The young woman chuckled nervously.

"I'm intrigued about what you'll find out." Jon nodded at her and resumed his way to the bridge. So, Trip had delivered. He checked the time. Eleven hundred hours. He was miffed that Trip wouldn't report back to him, but he wasn't surprised that he hadn't done so. Trip had become somewhat recalcitrant over the years, not respecting him as much as he had used to. Maybe it had been a mistake, taking his friend on Enterprise. Trip counted on their friendship, always expecting to get away with his stunts. Maybe Jon had been too lenient. Trip needed to learn that he had to respect his captain, despite the fact they were good friends. They should talk about it, but Jon wasn't in the mood to do so. Actually, he was glad that Trip had been avoiding him since the incident with the cogenitor, for it still upset Jon every time he thought about it. He would let a few more days pass, before he faced Trip again.

Jon forced a smile when he entered the bridge. "Any news?" he asked.

"Commander Tucker apparently has found a way for us to watch the dark matter nebula you want to explore a lot better," T'Pol answered.

"He has?" Archer frowned. How long had Trip been back again? Anger welled up in him. They could've been long on their way if he had reported back properly.

"Yes. Relating to a Vulcan experiment, he has rigged a few spatial charges to bombard the nebula with metrion particles."

"D'you think it'll work?"

"Perhaps. If it even is a dark matter nebula."

"Let's find out. Travis, set a course."