Narcosis: Chapter 7
By Piper
See Chapter 1 for disclaimer and other story details.
~*~
Travelling near warp five gets you where you want to go pretty fast. They hadn't been in as big a hurry as they went away from the station, so they were able to cover the distance back in a shorter amount of time.
Malcolm was still missing in action.
As they neared the point where they would drop out of warp, Captain Archer was in the ready room off of the bridge putting the finishing touches on his game plan. He didn't plan on announcing their presence at all. He wanted to be in and out as quickly as possible, hopefully without ruffling any feathers.
He was going himself this time, despite whatever medical protests Phlox could come up with. It had been 24 additional hours and he felt fine. These were his people and he was taking full responsibility for their lives.
Surrounding the table were the six crewmembers he had chosen to go with him. He was taking three crewmen for security. He hated to pull anyone off the search for Malcolm, but it couldn't be helped. He had to work with what he had.
He also wanted a science/medical officer, but he couldn't take Phlox. He wouldn't take the risk of a major medical crisis with Eric or Malcolm erupting while the doctor was away and unable to help them. So the Captain had chosen Ensign Cutler, who had plenty of experience and was more than willing to help.
To expedite the mission he needed someone who had been there before and could take him straight to the lab. There his options were a bit limited. Obviously Malcolm, Eric, and Chelsea were out. He didn't want to take the exhausted Eli away from his brother. And he wanted to leave Trip as well—not just because he was also exhausted, but because he was Malcolm's best friend on this ship and he might be needed to talk him down should a situation arise. That left T'Pol.
That was fine. She, of course, did not seem too rattled by this entire incident, and she was perfect for this mission. But she was also the one he would have left in charge of Enterprise. Trip was next in line, and that left him exhausted, worried and searching for his friend and in charge of the ship should the aliens realize they were back. It wasn't an ideal situation, but it would have to do for the short time they'd be away. At least he would have Travis to back him up, and Hoshi was conscious (if a little out of it) in med-bay if she was needed.
He didn't know exactly where Trip was searching, so Jonathan had summoned him to the bridge with a ship-wide call. He hadn't gotten a response, but he assumed his friend was slightly irked about being pulled away and was grudgingly responding. He expected him to walk into their meeting at any moment.
"We're going straight for the laboratory," he briefed. "Most of the team will be staying outside of the room while Ensign Cutler and I go in for chemical samples. I don't want to risk exposing anyone else, understood? We go in, get what we need, and get out. Any questions?"
None of them spoke up. Cutler had already spoken with Phlox and knew exactly what she needed to do; the others were ready to do whatever was necessary. This mission was all about saving their own people.
"Sir, we're almost there. I'd give it about 15 minutes until we drop out of warp," Travis said from the helm.
"Good. I want us ready to go as soon as we're in position. Get suited up and go on down to the launch bay. I'll be there as soon as I brief Commander Tucker."
If he could find Commander Tucker. Where was Trip?
~*~
Consciousness returned slowly. With it came the worst headache Trip had had in a long time. He groaned and slowly opened his eyes to find himself staring up at a familiar ceiling.
He frowned and blinked a few times, trying to get his bearings. He was in his own quarters, in his own bunk. He briefly wondered if he just had a hangover—maybe he had gotten really drunk and had a heck of a nightmare. He pushed himself upright and tried to stand, but the room promptly began to spin crazily. He aborted that move and sat down hard, cradling his head and moaning again. Trip began to probe the source of the pain and winced as his fingers hit the wound. He slowly lowered his hand—which came away sticky with blood. So much for the hangover theory.
"Careful, sir. I think I gave you a concussion."
Trip froze mid-moan and slowly raised his head. Malcolm was sitting in the corner, so still and quiet that Trip had missed him in the dark room.
He valiantly fought to get through the fuzziness in his brain, knowing that he had to focus here. Malcolm hadn't killed him yet and that was a good sign, but there was no telling what might set him off in his current condition. Trip knew he should tread carefully, but his head felt like it was about to break in two. "What's going on, Malcolm?" he asked as calmly as possible.
"Not much. Although there was a call for you to come to the bridge a few minutes ago."
Good, hopefully that meant that someone had missed him. But this situation was still very not good; he couldn't read Malcolm's frame of mind from his words and he couldn't see him well enough to help at all. "I don't suppose you'd let me answer it. Or at least get an ice pack," he said, wincing as he tenderly touched the back of his head again.
Malcolm spoke as if he hadn't even heard Trip. "You were out for quite a while. I was afraid I might have hit you too hard."
Trip sighed in frustrated pain. "Can I ask why you hit me at all?"
Malcolm stood at that and began to pace slightly. "I'm sorry, sir. You would have found me."
Trip tried to follow the tactical officer with his eyes, but it only made him dizzy. "But you weren't in your quarters. I didn't know where to look next."
"You would have figured it out eventually."
Trip snorted in disbelief. "Thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wish my scull didn't have to pay the price." He took a few steadying breaths then continued, "And would my finding you have been such a bad thing?"
"You would have taken me into custody, I…I couldn't let that happen. I don't know what I might have done."
"But you know nobody was going to hurt you. We're just tryin' to figure out what's going on here. We're tryin' to help you!"
Malcolm stepped closer in response, finally in light that allowed Trip to get a good look at him. The first thing he noticed was the phase pistol hanging loosely in the grip of his right hand. When he was able to tear his gaze from it to look into Malcolm's face, he was surprised at what he found. The look in his eyes was almost mournful, and the words that went along with it were now clearly dejected. "I know. I didn't want to hurt you, any of you."
Trip sucked in a breath. He knew that look; that was the look that had been in Eric's eyes during the "incident" in engineering. His aching head had egged on his temper, but it dissipated now. It suddenly became extremely important for him to handle Malcolm with care. "The Captain's okay. Hoshi and those guards are gonna be fine too," he said gently. "And none of this is your fault."
Malcolm shook his head and turned to pace again. He obviously wasn't going to be that easy to convince. Trip opened his mouth to explain that it was the chemicals, that Eric and Chelsea had done the same things and more, and that he wanted to help him before he went that far. But he was interrupted before he got any further than "Malcolm—."
The intercom on his wall buzzed. Both of them swung towards it, Trip having to grab his head at the burst of pain as he did so. It buzzed again, and Trip looked to a suddenly more agitated Malcolm. After the third tone, Malcolm seemed to make a decision and motioned with the pistol. "Answer it."
"Sure thing," Trip responded. He then made a valiant attempt to get up and walk across the room while keeping an eye on Malcolm. Unfortunately, his head was still spinning a bit. He stumbled and Malcolm had to step in to help him-'help' being a relative term. The tactical officer switched the pistol to his other hand and gripped Trip's arm roughly, half-dragging him the rest of the way to the intercom.
Maybe Malcolm wasn't as far into that final stage as he had thought. Trip rested his weight against the wall and shut his eyes to steady himself for a moment before looking to Malcolm. "Thanks for the hand," he said rather sarcastically, belatedly reminding himself he should be nice to the unstable guy with the gun.
Luckily Malcolm settled for glaring at him before motioning to the intercom again. "Answer."
Trip complied obediently. "This is Commander Tucker."
"Trip, I called you to the bridge. I was getting worried." Trip could pick up on the relief in the Captain's voice.
"Yeah, uh…sorry about that…"
Malcolm reached up to cut it off. "Tell him you're on your way, that you just had to stop at your quarters for a moment."
Trip started to tell him that the Captain would know he was lying, but before he said a word Archer spoke again. "Trip?" He was worried again.
"Yeah, sorry Cap'n. I'm on my way; I just had to stop by my quarters for something."
There was a pause, and Trip knew that Jonathan was weighing the words. "I called you at least half an hour ago."
"Uh, well…" Trip tried to give Malcolm the impression that he was trying to come up with something, but he was really quite glad for this. Jonathan would know something was up and would come down here to check on him. Of course, then he'd be Malcolm's hostage…
It didn't come to that. After a moment the Captain spoke again. "Trip, did you fall asleep?"
Trip started to roll his eyes, but decided it would hurt his head too much. He had himself in a life and death situation, and his Captain was still trying to get him to sleep. Beside him Malcolm was nodding, obviously saying 'tell him yes.'
"Um, yeah. Guess I was more tired than I realized. Sorry sir."
Trip could hear the smile in his friend's voice. "Don't apologize. You needed it. Do you feel better now?"
"Oh, lots," he lied through his teeth.
"Good. Listen, we're about to drop out of warp. Dr. Phlox thinks he may be able to reverse the effects if he has samples of the chemicals, so I'm taking a team back to the station. I'm about to go suit up now. T'Pol is going with me, so I need you up on the bridge as soon as you can get here. We haven't found Malcolm yet, but don't worry. The crew can handle it; I need you here in case either of our new sets of friends decides to put in an appearance."
"Sure thing, Cap'n," he said; though he doubted he'd be going anywhere any time soon. Still, it was more important that they get those samples so Phlox could fix this. He needed the Captain to go and not worry about him. He could handle Malcolm for a little while. He just had to pray that the aliens didn't show up wanting to play with him too. "You be careful, okay?" he added.
"Of course. We'll be back soon. Travis is waiting for you up here."
"Okay," he said as cheerfully as he could manage, then cut off the communication before looking to Malcolm. "You hear that? They're going back over there so we can save you."
"No one can save me, Commander." That look was back; the words were soft, matter-of-fact and resigned. He gripped Trip's arm, more gently this time, and helped him back towards the bunk. "Please sit, sir." He deposited the chief engineer on the bed, then turned away to pace again.
Trip sighed, watching the pistol swing in his friend's grip. He hoped the Captain's mission wasn't too long. He had a bad feeling about this.
~*~
To Be Continued