Disclaimer: see book one.

Summary for book two: After a few weeks of being linked, Trip and T'Pol are finally starting to accept that they might be stuck this way forever. But just as Trip starts to see the positive side, they discover just how dependant they are on each other and T'Pol's life falls into Trip's hands.

My Mind to Yours

Book Two: The Silent Other

Wordlessly, T'Pol handed Trip the correct wrench. Accepting it, he offered her a lop-sided grin. They lapsed back into silence again for a moment until the faulty reactor flickered back to life. Sliding out from underneath the console, Trip wiped his sooty hands on his uniform and T'Pol wordlessly stood up. Smile fading, he sighed. "It's not that bad, y'know," he offered, standing up.

T'Pol didn't turn around. "Verbal communication is not necessary with me, Commander."

"Will ye jus call me Trip?" He said exasperatedly. "And, yes, T'Pol, I know."

"Then why do you persist in it?" She said coldly, turning around.

"I honestly don't know," he retorted, throwing his hands in the air.

T'Pol frowned. "Please try to control your emotions, Commander."

"You know, you're not the only one not likin' this situation, T'Pol!"

Wordlessly, T'Pol turned and left. Trip sighed and ran his hands through his hair out of frustration. "Impossible," he muttered to himself. "Totally impossible."

"You know that's the second time this week," a voice said from behind him, causing him to jump.

"Oh. Hi, Cap'n."

"We don't know how long you two are going to be connected. Don't you think you should try and make the best of it?"

Any of the anger that had left the engineer now returned twofold. "She's impossible! Being connected to her is like having some sort of… sort of… I dunno! She's completely deadpan!"

Jon sighed. "Trip, just try and be civil. I can make that an order, you know."

The anger dissipated again. "I know. Sorry, Cap'n." He thought for a moment, then a tiny smile crossed his face. "Could you order to feel something?"

Archer sighed. "I'll talk to her, okay?"

Trip flopped down on the comm chair and closed his eyes. "She's meditatin'," he said quietly. "She's at ease; relaxed. S'the only time she is." He opened his eyes. "I can tell whatever she's doin', whenever I want. D'you know how weird that is?"

Of course he didn't, but Archer could sympathize. That didn't help him with what to say, though, so he simply repeated, "I'll talk to her," and left.

Trip watched him leave, then sighed and closed his eyes again. He concentrated as hard as he could on the feeling of his body and his own mind, a technique T'Pol had taught him a few days after the linking. (It had been the closest she could come to an apology, he'd decided.) It hadn't worked the first few times, but now he had mastered it "as best as a human could be expected to". At least it provided him a little separation between his thoughts and hers. But not this time.

"She's stopped," he whispered. "Jon's there. They're talking." His eyes burst opened as he realized he might not want to hear this.

///////T'Pol's quarters///////////

"Come in," T'Pol said, ceasing her meditation.

"We need to talk," Jon said as gently as he could.

"Yes," she agreed.

"It's about Trip and you. He's upset."

"Indeed," she said as if she already knew. Which she did. "Continue."

"I think he's a little disquieted. By your… lack of emotions."

"Distumacon," T'Pol said.

"Pardon me?"

"Distumacon," she elaborated. "It means 'the silent other' in Vulcan. It's a syndrome that often occurs when a Vulcan and a member of a more primitive species form a telepathic link."

"You know about this?!?"

"Only in theory," she said coolly. "Only a dozen cases have been reported. Those who have experienced it reported feeling like they have a 'ghost' inside of their heads."

"That's a… way of putting it," Archer smiled. "But not exactly what Trip said."

"Indeed," T'Pol said in disinterest.

"Is there anything you can do?" Archer said, eager to fulfill his word to try and help.

"I can do nothing," T'Pol said firmly. "However, the commander could instill a mental block if he was willing."

"Trip doesn't like having his freedom limited," Archer said firmly. "You can't really expect him to voluntarily block off part of his mind."

"If Commander Tucker is so determined to have his mind back to himself again, he has to be willing to make some sacrifices."

"If you ask me," Archer said, trying to hide his anger. "Trip already made a pretty big sacrifice for you. In case you've forgotten, he saved your life."

That stopped her, but only momentarily. "Which I did not ask him to do."

Archer sighed. "I can see I'm not making any difference here. Maybe I'll just… leave you to your meditation." He stood up and left the room. Behind him, T'Pol re-lit her candle and resumed her meditating.

Corridor after corridor, Archer made his way back to the bridge, where he had left Trip. It was the middle of the night, and not many of the crew were awake, but Trip and T'Pol had stayed up late to fix a faulty consul, and Archer wasn't tired.

"Any progress?" Archer said as he entered the bridge, empty of all but Trip.

"Got it functioning all right until my people can construct another spare circuit."

"I meant with blocking her out," Archer corrected, and a dirty-faced Trip slid out from under the consul.

"Oh. Nope, none," he said. Then, after a pause: "You?"

"I couldn't budge her," Archer admitted.

"See? She's impossible."

"She did tell me one thing," Archer said. "Some sort of mental block."

Tucker looked distinctly uncomfortable. "She did mention that," he said softly. "But I'd rather have a Vulcan in my head than a brick wall."

Archer sighed. "Look, the consul's fixed. Why don't you turn in? We both have alpha shift tomorrow, so I'll see you up here at 08:00 hours."

"Right. See ya later, Cap'n." He pushed past his friend and the turbolift doors slid open and shut again.

Archer sighed again, as he seemed to be doing a lot lately.

////////////the next day////////////

The bridge was entirely silent when suddenly the lights flickered and went off briefly.

"Someone wanna get me a flashlight?" Travis Mayweather said nonchalantly. While he was used to this kind of thing, Ensign Sato's breathing had gotten heavier.

"Relax, Ensign," Archer said. "Trip, do you wanna try and figure out what's going on?" but just as soon as it had happened, the emergency lights took over.

"Probably just a bad circuit," Trip said tiredly. Archer noticed how much he had been talking like that lately, almost like it took him a great effort to say "boo."

"Do you require assistance?" T'Pol directed at Trip.

"I'll be fine," Tucker started to say, but suddenly he couldn't continue. In fact, no one on the entire ship could move, even breath. The emergency lights went out, just as everyone on the entire ship passed out.

///////////////////

By Travis's chronometer, they were asleep for almost two hours.

Once Malcolm had awoken, being first, it only took about three minutes for Hoshi to mark the last of them to awake.

"Any idea what that was, Lieutenant?"

"Not really, sir," Reed said stiffly, rubbing his forehead where he had hit it.

"You okay, Malcolm?" Archer said. "That's a pretty nasty gash," he commented as Reed's hand came away bloody.

"I'll be fine, sir."

"I want you in sickbay," Archer asserted, but just as Reed began to protest, Trip let out a small scream.

"Trip? What is it?"

"She's gone," he responded through clenched teeth.

"Who?"

"T'Pol."

Archer's eyes flickered around the bridge. He was right; T'Pol was no where to be found. "She might have woken up before us," Archer reasoned. "Knowing her, she's in sickbay figuring out what happened."

"I'm tellin' ya, Cap'n, she's not on the ship," Tucker protested desperately. His eyes were darting around like a caged animal's.

"He's right, Captain," Reed reported. "No Vulcan bio signs on the ship."

Archer looked at Trip just in time to see him panic.

///////////////sickbay///////////////

"Trip, just try and calm down," Archer said placatingly, but his friend didn't seem to hear him. To Phlox he added: "What's wrong with him?"

"I can't find anything wrong," the doctor said. "At least… not physically. It might have something to do with, mmm, the Distumacon syndrome T'Pol mentioned."

"The silent other," Archer mused, trying to access the information he hadn't bothered to take seriously.

"Yes. There hasn't been testing done, but it was theorized that if to far separated, the person connected the Vulcan may experience a sort of withdrawal, with symptoms much like what the Commander is experiencing right now."

"Can you do anything?"

"Certainly!" Phlox said brightly. "A neural depressant should do the trick…" he said, pressing a hypospray to Trip's neck. Almost instantly, his eyes stopped darting and the lids lifted.

"Jon?" Tucker said groggily. "What happened, Cap'n?"

"You, er, fainted," Archer said, and he would have been laughing ad the circumstances not been so odd.

Raising himself slowly onto his arms, Trip shook his head. "Can't remember." Then his eyes lit up in realization. "T'Pol…"

"You were right. She is gone," Phlox said gently.

Trip moaned and lay back down. "I knew it," he whispered.

"What you're experiencing is a sort of withdrawal due to your connection with T'Pol," Phlox explained.

"Coulda told you that much," Trip remarked. "Look, Cap'n, we have to find her?"

"Trip?" Archer said, but Phlox interrupted.

"Right now I think it's best it Commander Tucker tried to get some rest. His mind had been through a lot." He re-set his hypo and set it again Trip's skin. "I'm giving you a time-delay neural suppressant. It'll take effect in seven minutes; I think you can get to your quarters by then." Trip began to protest but the doctor broke in, "I suggest you go now unless you want to fall asleep in a corridor somewhere instead."

Tucker grumbled but left pretty quickly. When he had gone, Phlox turned to Archer. His voice taking on a more serious tone (if that was possible), he said, "Do you have any idea where Sub-commander T'Pol could be?"

"None," Archer admitted, sinking down onto a cot.

Phlox looked uncomfortable.

"You're not telling me something, Doctor," Archer accused.

Phlox forced his eyes to look at Archer. "If we're right in assuming that Sub-commander T'Pol has been taken, I believe I know a way to find her."

"What?" Archer said, standing up. "Spit it out, Doctor."

Phlox relented quicker than Archer had thought. "Obviously, the connection between Commander Tucker and Sub-commander T'Pol hasn't weakened drastically.

"Are you suggesting…"

"Yes. I believe that, using Commander Tucker, we could locate her."

Archer thought hard. "What would the strain be on Trip?" He said finally.

"None worse than he's under right now, Captain," Phlox said seriously. 'And I have to warn you: unless the two are re-united permanently, the negative effects could be permanent.

Archer tried to stay calm, but something in Phlox's eyes resembled the Grim Reaper. "How bad, Doctor?"

"All linked parts of his mind would be permanently shut off."

"And those are?"

"His logic centers. And all of his emotional centers."

Without another word, Archer returned to the bridge.

"We need to find T'Pol. Now." Archer announced as soon as he got there. "Trip's life may be on the line."

"It gets worse, sir," Reed said, giving up the command chair. "T'Pol's might be as well. Hoshi?"

"I've detected a signal, sir," Ensign Sato reported. "Source unknown. But I think I've got it translated."

"Let's hear it, Ensign."

A cold, male voice filled the room. "We have taken the Vulcan from your ship. If you want to see her again, we suggest you give us the information on the The Floaters. We have her hostage. Her life will be terminated in fifeteen of your hours."

"Great," Archer said sarcastically. "Just great. What do you have on these 'Floaters', Hoshi?"

Hoshi's face was even paler than usual. "I don't know what they mean. We don't have anything on any Floaters."

"Run it through the UT."

"I already did sir."

"It sounds like a species name," Mayweather mused. "Why don't you run it through all known languages instead of just English?"

Hoshi's fingers flew over her consul. "I've got a match. The Doetyr."

"We made first contact with them a few weeks back," Travis recalled.

"We didn't trade any information," Reed said. His tone made the very idea sound ludicrous. "At least nothing classified."

"I guess the… who sent the Transmition, Hoshi?"

"They call themselves the Seimine," Hoshi supplied.

"I guess the Seimine don't know that," Archer said. "Can you pick up any warp traces?"

"None, sir," Reed admitted. "But the time we awoke they were long gone."

"Any transporter traces? Do we know how they got T'Pol off the ship?"

"All I can tell you, sir, is that it certainly wasn't random. They specifically took T'Pol."

"But why?" Archer asked, more to himself than his crew. "I think," he said suddenly, "A conference with the Vulcan High Command is in order."

///////Trip's quarters//////////

"They're hurting her," Trip said again, but his wall wasn't really interested. "I have to help her, but they won't let me," He protested. The sedative had worked for maybe five minutes, that's all. Now the withdrawal was over-powering him.

"She's crying…" he realized. "She's terrified. They have to STOP!" He yelled, sitting bolt upright. What he didn't realize what that right then, he felt closer to her than he ever had. And she was finally feeling something.

////////bridge/////////////

"T'Pol is your officer," Admiral Forest retorted to Ambassador T'Kel on the other half of the viewscreen. "Jon isn't asking for any schematics or anything, he just wants help finding her!"

"The Seimine are a violent race," T'Kel responded coolly, both the Archer and Forest. "I don't understand what else you need to know."

"I don't know! What do they look like, who are their enemies, what do they have for breakfast?" Archer exploded.

T'Kel raised one eyebrow. "We have never seen them directly and I certainly don't know what they eat for breakfast. Their enemies are the Doetyr and anyone associated with them. I have more pressing matters to attend to," he said, and Admiral Forest's image took over the entire screen.

"Sorry, Jon," the older man said. "I'll see if I can work on Ambassador T'Kel. Good luck with T'Pol," He offered, then his image left, too.

"That was overly-complicated," Mayweather commented.

Archer sighed. "Keep working on tracing their signature. I need to go talk to Trip."

///////Seimine ship/////////////

"I told you," T'Pol protested. "I don't know anything about the Doetyr. Our exchange was purely a nicety. I don't know any more about them than I know about you."

"Vulcan!" Captain Nailliv shouted. "Your people have allied the Doetyr for decades! Now you have dragged these… these humans into it!"

"I know nothing about the Doetyr. Nor does Enterprise. If you want information, contact my people."

"What?" Nailliv smirked. "I thought these idiotic humans were your people now." His hand reached for the button again and T'Pol shrieked as electricity ran through her body.

/////////////////Trip's quarters//////////////////

"I see whatever Phlox gave you didn't hold out very long," Archer said gently, sitting down on the bed next to Trip.

Tucker lifted his head from his hands. "I can feel her," he whispered. "In my head, just as strong as ever. They're torturing her."

Archer played dumb. "Who?"

"I don't know. Whoever took her."

"The Seimine," Archer elaborated. "They're holding her hostage."

"I know," Trip said softly, then he moaned softly. "I can feel it all." He tapped his head.

"Trip, there's something you're not telling me." Archer prodded. Trip sighed.

"I'm dyin', Cap'n."

Archer started. How could Trip know the dangers of the connection? "What do you mean?"

Trip's eyes finally met Archer's, and he was shocked to see a tear tracing down the younger man's jawbone. "Ever since the connection, I can't stand not bein' around her, Jon," he said, purposefully using Archer's real name. "It's like bein' in love but more… mental. I can feel it here"-he touched his forehead-"not here"-he motioned to his chest.

Archer pursed his lips sympathetically. "That's… sort of what I came to talk to you about, Trip," Archer said.

"I know," Trip said, straightening like he was at attention and wiping away the tear. "You need to find T'Pol. And I'm the only one who can."

////////////////////sickbay////////////////

"You realize the risk involved," Archer said again as Phlox hooked Trip up to almost a dozen monitors.

"I understand,' Trip said stoically. Funny, Archer thought, how much he seems like T'Pol right now.

"This will put you in a sort of subconscious state," the doctor explained, injecting Tucker with a blue-colored liquid. "It should increase your telepathic range." No sooner than he had said this, Trip's eyes half-closed.

Archer and Phlox waited for almost ten minutes before anything happened. "I see her," Trip reported suddenly.

"Where is she?" Archer asked.

"He can't hear you, Captain," Phlox reminded gently. "He's deep in a trance."

Archer nodded, but now Trip was moving.

"Where's he going?" Archer demanded, but of course Phlox didn't know.

"I suggest we follow him," Phlox began, and before he finished, both men were out the door.

Phlox followed Archer following Trip all the way to the bridge. Had the Circumstances not been so grave, the looks on Hoshi's, Malcolm's and Travis's faces would have been priceless. Almost any time but right then.

"Let Trip take over, Ensign," Phlox said gently to Mayweather.

"Sir?"

"Do it, Ensign." Archer said firmly. Mayweather nodded and moved.

Wordlessly, Trip sat down at the consul and began working. After almost a half-hour of finger flying, he sat back and turned to Archer.

"Can you wake him up, now?" Archer asked Phlox. Trip's vacant yet all-knowing eyes were beginning to weird him out a little.

"Certainly."

Trips' eyes opened fully. "I think this is it, he said hesitantly."

Suddenly, a large ship resembling something like a giant sword appeared on-screen.

"Twenty-seven bio-signs," Reed reported. "One Vulcan."

Archer smiled. "Good work, Trip."

Tucker looked nervous, though. "I just hope it's not too late."

"How's our timing, Hoshi?"

"Seven of the fifteen hours left," Hoshi reported.

"Plenty of time," Archer assured his friend. Then to Hoshi: "Can you hail them?"

"I'll try, sir. On screen now," she announced after a pause.

"You have the data requested?" The warped green face on screen said.

"You have our crewman?" Archer said stiffly.

"T'Pol!" Trip said suddenly. "She's hurt; they're torturing her."

"Your Engineer is very smart," Nailliv said cruelly. "If you ask him he will tell you that the Vulcan is alive. But not for long."

"Give her back!" Trip burst out suddenly. "Give her back, you son of a bitch!"

"Commander!" Archer said sharply, but Trip didn't hear him. "Commander, control yourself! That's an order!"

"Do you have our data?" Nailliv said firmly.

"Give us ten minutes," Archer protested.

"The clock is ticking, Captain," Nailliv said, just as Hoshi cut him off.

"How can we get her out?" Archer demanded.

"We could try the grappler, sir." Mayweather said.

"It wouldn't work, Captain," Reed cut in. "She's too deep inside the ship."

"The Transporter?" Hoshi suggested.

Archer noticed how quiet Trip was and looked over. Trip was staring into space, deep in thought.

"I don't think it's advanced enough," Reed was saying when he looked back. "Captain?"

Archer brought himself back to the conversation. "It's out best option, Malcolm."

"No," Trip said softly. "Captain, if we try the Transporter, something will go wrong."

"What?" Archer said gently. "What'll go wrong?"

"I don't know…" Tucker said quietly.

"I need answers, Trip."

"I'd believe him, Captain." Phlox said firmly.

Archer sighed. "Any other options."

"Actually, yes sir." Travis said. "There's a ship off out port bow. It's Vulcan."

"Put them on screen."

"Admiral Forest advised us of your situation, Captain Archer," A Vulcan female resembling T'Pol said. "We thought we might assist you."

"You sure are a sight for sore eyes," Archer admitted. "How good is your transporter?"

The Vulcan ruffled. "More advanced than yours, I assure you. We…" Suddenly, a blast rocked both ships.

"One minutes," Archer said. "Hoshi, put our friends on screen." The green face re-appeared. "What the hell was that?"

"A warning, Captain. We see the Vulcan vessel and we don't much appreciate it when we're ganged up against."

"We're not ganging up on anyone," Archer began to protest, but he didn't get a chance. Another blast sent most of the bridge crew to the floor.

"Put the Vulcans back on screen," Archer shouted over the chaos.

"We're transporting T'Pol to your bridge now," the Vulcan said.

The Siemine fired again and as soon as Travis saw T'Pol on the floor, the ship went to warp.

"Highest we can get," Archer told Mayweather, then spun around and kneeled next to T'Pol.

She had greenish blood covering her wrists and neck and her face was bruised, but Trip was treating her as the most beautiful girl in the world. He looked happy enough to cry.

"You're back," he said breathlessly, hugging her tight enough for Archer to laugh in relief.

"Easy there, Commander," Phlox said, obviously amused as well. "T'Pol's been through quite an ordeal." Embarrassed, Trip broke off.

Archer turned back to the viewscreen, where the Vulcan female had appeared again.

"Thank you," Archer said.

"You're welcome, Captain Archer. Now I believe I may be able to help you with another predicament," she said. All of a sudden, T'Pol sat up.

"T'Pau?" She asked. Archer could have sworn she even sounded excited.

"You two know each other?" Archer asked.

"Of course," T'Pau elaborated. "T'Pol is my sister. And I believe I have a cure to her link with Commander Tucker."

Oh, I'm so evil! Cliffhanger! Want more?