Narcosis: Chapter 3

By Piper

See Chapter 1 for disclaimer and other story notes.

~*~

Eli West was pacing. That was an interesting feat in a small decontamination room that was also occupied by two other people.

"Ensign, that is not a very productive use of your energy."

West acknowledged T'Pol with an absent nod and a "Yes, ma'am," but he didn't stop.

Dr. Phlox had taken the still shaken Reed, Thomas, and West to med-bay, albeit under quarantine. He had wanted to examine them immediately. That left T'Pol, Tucker, and the younger West waiting in the decontamination room for his verdict. Though there had been nothing apparent on them to warrant decontamination, Phlox wanted to keep them there as a precaution until he knew more about the others.

As Eli went past him yet again, Tucker decided that he had finally had enough. When a few more steps brought the ensign in front of him again he grabbed the young man's arm and pulled him gently but firmly onto the bench beside him. Eli gave him a frustrated look, but his face was like an open book displaying his worry for his brother. "Just relax, kid," Trip tried to sound comforting. "I'm sure they're fine."

But he was far from sure. And Eli was no more convinced of it than Trip was. But since he was clearly getting on his superior officer's nerves, he managed to stay relatively still.

What seemed an agonizingly long time later, the intercom came on. "You all can come out now," came Dr. Phlox's voice.

Trip and Eli almost fell over each other trying to get out of the room. T'Pol came behind, managing to maintain an air of dignity. Outside they found the doctor and the captain. They accepted the offered clothes gratefully, and Phlox waited while they got dressed

"Well?" Trip asked the doctor anxiously.

"There's nothing wrong with them."

Trip stared at him for a beat, then said in unison with Eli, "What?"

Phlox reiterated, "Every test I have the capability to perform says that there is nothing wrong with them."

Another minute of confused silence passed.

"Okay, so we should just consider that unconsciousness is a side-effect of what? Getting into a shuttlepod?" Trip asked incredulously.

"Trip…" Jonathan started warningly. Tucker was usually easy-going and quick to humor. But when he was worried, that humor quickly gave way to sarcasm and easy-going just went out the window.

"Cap'n, they were exposed to chemicals. They lost consciousness for who knows how long and their suits were practically gone! And everyone keeps insisting that they're fine? Maybe something's wrong with the equipment. Either that, or I've stepped into the twilight zone!" At his side Eli appeared to agree whole-heartedly. Everyone else was looking at him like a child who needed to be pacified.

Phlox chimed in, "It is more likely, Commander, that the chemicals were of such design that they simply ate through the material of the suits. They seem to have had no effect on their flesh or internal systems."

"And they were unconscious because…"

T'Pol spoke up, "It is possible that the shock of seeing their suits disintegrate simply caused them to faint.

Despite himself, Trip snorted. "Beautiful. I can't wait to see Malcolm's reaction to that theory." He shook his head, then added, "I don't buy it. What do they think about all of this?"

Archer took over. "They don't remember much after finding the woman's body. Although West did say something about a big fuzzy mouse."

That threw everyone for a second. It was Eli who said skeptically, "What, like Mickey?"

T'Pol and Phlox looked confused at the reference. The Captain shrugged.

But Trip soon recovered from the momentary distraction. "What about the woman? And the others that we found? They didn't just faint."

Phlox considered that. "Yes, it would be useful to examine them if we seek to learn what really happened over there. Other than that, I don't know what to tell you. Whatever happened, our people are fine now."

~*~

A few hours later, the Enterprise was still holding orbit near the station. It wasn't curiosity that kept him here; it was the health of his crew. Because truthfully, like Trip, he was reluctant to believe that everything was just fine. And he didn't want to leave if they might later need something—be it a chemical sample or an autopsied green alien.

At the same time, he didn't want to send anyone else back over there. There was still an unknown factor and risk that apparently their environmental suits couldn't protect them from. And he didn't particularly want to risk upsetting the station's creators any more than he already had. Although they had had no more trouble since that first conversation, he assumed that it was only a matter of time before his excuse of fixing the engine would run out.

Jonathan turned when the door to the bridge was opened and smiled when he saw who it was. "Malcolm," he greeted, "It's good to see you up and about."

"Thank you Captain," he responded with typical Reed politeness. "I feel fine really; like nothing ever happened. I'd like to get back to work."

"Yeah, he's back to normal," Trip chimed in with a grin from his side, having entered the bridge with him. "Malcolm, when you get time off, you take it and enjoy it."

Jon smiled in response along with Malcolm. Trip appeared to have relaxed, probably because he was seeing for himself that his friend seemed fine. Ever since the shuttlepod incident the chief engineer had taken up a brotherly role with the armory officer that was making him rather protective. Archer didn't mind; he thought the relationship was good for both of them. He liked that his crew was like a family. Vulcans might scoff at the idea, but it was working great for this human.

Neither Trip nor Malcolm was on duty; both having been given what Trip liked to refer to as a medical "time-out." But he had summoned them to the bridge, along with T'Pol, for their opinions on the current situation. They knew the risks of that station better than he did, and he trusted their judgement.

T'Pol joined them shortly, and the Captain led the three of them to the situation room. They had barely begun to discuss options when the next crisis hit.

"Captain?" Hoshi interrupted. Archer turned to her. "We're getting a transmission."

"From the planet?"

"No, from a small ship coming up on our starboard side."

Brilliant. "Put it through." He expected an unhappy green alien to appear on the screen, and steeled himself for it. Instead, the face that soon showed had a skin tone similar to his own. Surprised, he stammered, "Uh...hello. Can we help you?"

He received a string of familiar-sounding words in response. He turned to Hoshi, who confirmed it with a nod. "He's speaking the same language as the other one did, sir." She listened for a moment before translating, "He wants to know what we're doing orbiting their planet."

"Their planet?"

"Scans show that they have hardly any weapons, Captain," said the lieutenant occupying T'Pol's usual station. "And there are only two lifeforms on board. I don't think they're much of a threat."

T'Pol came to look over her shoulder. "She is correct, Captain. And this ship appears to be nowhere near the architecture of that station."

He considered the implications of that. "So what are we talking about here? A less advanced race coexisting with the first one we encountered?" He got no answer before the aliens began chattering again.

"They may be a different race Captain, but I don't think they like us being here any more than the first one did. Leaving out some of the more colorful language, they've apparently decided that they don't care about our intentions, they just want us gone. Or else."

"Or else what? They'll break out their slingshots and take aim?" Trip snickered. "It's like David challenging Goliath."

"David beat Goliath, you know," Malcolm said softly from Trip's side.

"Okay, bad example."

"Hoshi, tell them that we're peaceful explorers and are simply passing through the system. We'd like to meet them if they're interested."

She relayed the message. A long string of words followed, accompanied by some rather unpleasant facial expressions. "Uh…they politely decline, Captain."

"Politely?" he asked in disbelief.

She shrugged. "They still want us to leave."

"Pause the transmission," he said to Hoshi, then turned to the others. "Any thoughts?"

"Would you like for me to hit them with the laser cannon, sir?" Malcolm asked.

Archer almost smiled and accused him of hanging out with Trip too much; the engineer's since of humor must be rubbing off. But then he took a good look at Reed and considered the statement. The man was perfectly serious. "Uh…no. That seems a bit extreme," he finally responded. "Any other thoughts?" he asked, though he kept a wary eye on Reed. This was a little gun-happy, even for him.

"We should go, Captain," T'Pol offered succinctly. "The doctor says that we are fine. Whatever may have happened on that station, there is nothing we can do now and no other reason to stay. It would be best to stay out of the conflict."

"Trip?"

"Well, if we are dealing with two different races here, this one might be responsible for what happened on the station. Maybe the other race is in trouble on the planet. We were asked for help, Cap'n."

"We were asked by those on the station, and they are now dead. The living of both races have requested that we leave," T'Pol interjected. "We should not interfere where we are not welcome."

"We should just blow them up and be done with it," Malcolm put in. Trip and T'Pol ignored him, not taking it seriously, but Jonathan studied the lieutenant carefully. Again, he wasn't joking. This was starting to be of some concern.

He put that worry aside for a moment to consider their arguments. He eventually decided. "I'm sorry Trip, but I agree with T'Pol on this one. I'm not taking any more unnecessary risks with your lives today. Hoshi, inform them that we're on our way."

She nodded and did just that. As the seemingly pacified aliens turned to go, Jon walked back to stand in front of his chair. Malcolm followed. "Sir, they threatened us. That in itself makes them an enemy."

"An enemy with barely enough firing capability to scratch the paint, Malcolm. They're no real threat to us."

"Captain, as you just pointed out, we are more than capable of destroying them. We should do just that!" This time Malcolm's vehemence earned surprised looks from more than just the Captain.

"Lieutenant, I have made my decision. We are leaving." As Reed silently fumed beside him, he turned to Travis. "Take us to warp, Ensign."

"No Travis," Reed promptly and emphatically contradicted his order.

Mayweather simply stared between the two of them, mouth slightly open in shock.

"Lieutenant, you are out of line," Archer said as calmly and authoritatively as he could manage at that moment. Then he repeated firmly, "Ensign Mayweather, take us to warp."

Travis snapped his mouth shut and turned back to his console, doing as he was told.

The change in speed took Jonathan's attention from his irate armory officer for a moment. It was long enough. He didn't even see the fist coming.

It wasn't until he found himself suddenly sitting on the floor by his chair that he realized what had happened. He took a second to rub his aching jaw in disbelief, and before he could gather his thoughts Reed was on him again.

At her station, T'Pol pushed the lieutenant aside and called for security. Everyone else was staring in shock.

It was against everything Jon had ever been taught and believed to use violence on one of his subordinate officers. But since said officer suddenly seemed hell-bent on hurting him, he felt justified in delivering a well-placed punch to his lieutenant's eye. It was enough to knock Reed off balance the few seconds until Tucker reached them.

Trip got a grip on Malcolm from behind and physically hauled him off of their captain. He was forced to hold tight when his friend tried to break away from him. "Relax, lieutenant," he said into Malcolm's ear. He meant it to be an order, but it came out more of a plea.

As Archer climbed to his feet in front of them, two security officers came bursting onto the bridge. They stopped short at the scene, confused. "Sir?" It was a little unclear whether he was addressing Archer or Reed, who they usually answered to.

Malcolm, meanwhile, stopped struggling and deflated in Trip's strong hold. A lost look came into his eyes. Jonathan studied him for a moment, then motioned to the guards. "Take him to med-bay. And keep him there until I say otherwise."

As a slightly subdued Reed was led off by two of his own men, Archer and Trip exchanged a long glance. Jonathan could see most of what he was feeling reflected in his friend's eyes: confusion, disbelief, and a lot of concern.

No matter what Dr. Phlox's scans said, something was definitely wrong with Lieutenant Reed.

~*~

To Be Continued