ADDICTION
Chapter Four
A'Tal sat in the darkness while the others slept. The week of heat was to begin the next day. The old man stood slowly and stretched his tired body. He silently cursed the longevity of the Xyrillian species. So many prisoners had come and gone over the years and each time one would die, a small piece of A'Tal would die, too. Just the day before he'd watched Alta charge a guard and then fall dead from the shot to her chest. She wasn't the first to choose to be killed and A'Tal knew she wouldn't be the last. He knew he would choose a fast death to a slow, excruciating one if given the choice.
A'Tal sat back down and reached a hand out in the dark. He felt the shoulder of the young man next to him and he gave it an affectionate squeeze. He had always tried to remain at a safe distance emotionally from his cellmates so that their inevitable deaths wouldn't hurt quite as bad but Trip was different. The old man was astounded at how attached he'd become to this human in just three weeks time. He smiled in the darkness then shook his head. There wasn't even a moment he could pinpoint when Trip had knocked down the walls A'Tal had carefully put up around his heart. Somehow the starship engineer had just done it. The Xyrillian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He said a silent prayer to his guiding spirit that his new friend would survive the next week.
Trip peered through the fog. He could hear voices but he couldn't see any shapes. Slowly he made his way toward the sounds.
"You've always been impulsive."
Trip turned around. "Cap'n?" he called. The fog continued to roll around him, gray clouds encircling him.
"They won't let me climb mountains."
"You're damn right it's your fault!"
"I want to stay here."
"Dismissed."
The voices echoed back and forth around him.
"Dismissed."
Trip covered his ears and started to run. He had no idea where he was going he only knew he had to get away from the voices. His heart was pounding hard and his lungs were fighting to take in enough air.
Then he stopped. There in front of him stood his Vissian friend, Charles. She was very still, the fog moving around her like phantoms. She was looking at him.
"Charles?" he whispered softly.
The co-genitor looked back at him with rounded eyes but she remained silent. Then slowly she raised a phase pistol and held the barrel against her temple.
"Goodbye, Trip," she murmured.
Charles squeezed the trigger.
Trip awoke with a start, breathing hard. He looked around frantically for Charles but she was nowhere to be seen. A hand gripped his arm and he tried to pull away.
"Trip?"
The engineer turned to see A'Tal looking at him with concern.
"A'Tal? Where is Charles? I have to stop her!"
"She's dead, Trip. Remember?"
"No, no! She's not dead! I saw her, A'Tal! I can save her!"
"Trip look at me," said the Xyrillian. He grabbed both of Trip's arms and turned him so they were face to face. "Look at me."
Trip looked at the old man in a panic then slowly the world came back into focus. In a brief moment of clarity, he knew exactly where he was.
"Are you alright?" asked A'Tal, his voice gentle.
Trip nodded. "I think so. For the moment anyway," he replied with a weak smile. His gaze went around the cell. Everyone was looking at him but no one moved. Pale light poured through the windows as dawn arrived.
"Captain!" cried Hoshi. "We're being hailed!"
Archer stood up from his chair. "Commander Omara?" he asked anxiously.
Hoshi shook her head. "No sir. It's a small transport vessel."
Archer looked at Malcolm. He immediately ran a scan of the tiny ship.
"Only particle weapons, sir," he reported. "No heavy artillery."
Archer turned back to his communications officer. "Put it through."
Malcolm looked at the screen as the face of a Silotan male appeared. He guessed the man to be around the captain's age. Beside him stood a little girl.
"Are you Captain Archer?" asked the man.
"Yes. What can I do for you?"
The girl smiled and held up her hand. Malcolm gasped. She was clutching a Starfleet shoulder patch.
"It is them, Father!" the girl cried happily. She turned to the captain. "We know where Trip is!"
Jon could hardly believe it was the same place. They had been so close to Trip before but Jon had been so focused on the prison, he hadn't even thought to look elsewhere on the little planet. He silently cursed himself and prayed that his friend was okay.
As the transport touched down, Jon gazed out the window at the bright sunshine. He could see guards milling around the landing pad and in the distance stood a small building. Malcolm moved up beside him.
"I see eight guards, sir," he said quietly. "Finn says during the break in the weather, they generally only have two on duty in the prison itself."
"Did he say why so few?"
Malcolm shook his head. "No, sir. He doesn't seem to know a lot about the place just what he's seen when this Breenan allows him to see his wife."
"She's never told him anything?"
"Apparently he only sees her working out in a field and then only for a brief minute. He's never been allowed to talk to her."
Jon looked up as Finn entered the hold. "We ready?"
The Silotan nodded. "The minute I open the door, the guards will take you, Captain," he said then he looked down briefly before lifting his eyes to Jon's. "Are you sure this'll work? I mean there are a lot of things that could go wrong."
"It has to, Finn. I want my friend back."
A'Tal looked around his cell. Everyone was quiet, huddled against the walls. Next to him laid Trip. The young man stared vacantly at the ceiling, the only noticeable movement the blinking of his eyes. The Xyrillian knew the Silotans would begin experiencing withdrawals in a matter of hours when their bodies would begin to crave the drug they were no longer receiving. He'd been through it so many times, the vomiting, the screaming, and the raging fevers. A'Tal shook his head sadly. He looked down at his human friend wondering what Trip would go through and when it would begin.
The cell door clicked as it was being unlocked. A'Tal stood and watched as the door swung open then he smiled as a human male entered. The man looked at each huddled figured then his eyes settled on the starship engineer.
"Trip!" he said and moved to the young man's side. He was followed by a group of men all brandishing rifles.
A'Tal knelt beside the stranger. "I knew you'd come for him."
The man looked up. "I'm Captain Archer," he said then his eyes dropped to Trip again. "What did they do to him?"
"Does your ship have a medical facility, Captain?"
Archer nodded.
"I will explain everything later. Right now all my friends need your help. Will you help them?"
"Sir. These are criminals," said a younger man who had knelt beside Archer.
The captain looked at A'Tal closely. "We'll help your friends," he replied. "Malcolm, have your men get these people to the transport."
Archer reached down and pulled Trip to his feet. A'Tal grabbed his friend's other arm and between them, they all but dragged the engineer from the cell.
Malcolm looked around the hold at the Silotan prisoners. They were all so quiet, almost meek, he thought. Finn sat in one corner holding his wife in his arms, stroking her white hair. Travis had agreed to pilot the transport back so that the Silotan could be with Kaea. Malcolm was thankful that their little daughter was still on Enterprise so that she wouldn't have to see her mother in her current condition.
The lieutenant's gaze moved then settled on the commander. Archer was sitting next to him, talking to him quietly but Trip seemed unaware. He looked around him but dazedly.
"How is he?" Malcolm asked as he dropped next to the captain.
"A'Tal, the Xyrillian," Archer replied, nodding his head toward the old man watching over the Silotans. "Says that he's been drugged."
"Drugged?"
Archer nodded. "Something called Triasaphen. A'Tal says its highly addictive. It was used to keep the prisoners in line."
A moan from the youngest Silotan drew Malcolm's attention. The boy was curled up, groaning in pain. A'Tal knelt beside the young man and rubbed his back.
"They're all going to go through withdrawals," Archer continued. "Trip included."
Malcolm looked back down at his friend. "How bad?" he asked.
"Apparently it's pretty painful for the Silotans but A'Tal has no idea what'll happen with Trip."
"Cap'n?" mumbled the engineer. "Is that you, Cap'n?"
Archer put his hand on Trip's shoulder. "Yeah, it's me."
"You came for me?"
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
"How'd you find me?"
"Finn and his daughter, Kamella helped us."
Trip nodded then closed his eyes. "I'm not feeling too good, Cap'n."
"We'll have you back to Enterprise in no time, Commander," said Malcolm.
Trip just nodded again.
Archer looked up at the lieutenant his concern plain on his face.
The little transport came under fire as it cleared the upper atmosphere of the planet. Jon stood up from Trip and looked out a tiny portal. He could see a Silotan cargo hauler firing at them. The captain was thankful that Travis was at the controls as the transport veered and spun out of the line of fire. Enterprise swept in and made a direct hit to the hauler's engines and Jon let out a breath of relief.
Jon's communicator beeped for attention. He reached in his pocket, pulled it out then flipped it open.
"T'Pol to Captain Archer."
"Archer, go ahead."
"Ensign Sato intercepted a communiqué being sent from the penal colony, sir," replied his first officer.
"Great. That means Omara will be sending his troops. We should be in the launch bay in a matter of minutes, T'Pol. Be ready to take us out of here at high warp the second the bay doors close."
"Yes, Captain. Was the mission successful?"
"Yes. We found him. Have Phlox prepare sickbay for some guests. We'll see you in a few minutes. Archer out." Jon closed his communicator and shoved it back into his pocket. He knelt down next to Trip again. "How're you feeling?" he asked.
The engineer shifted slightly. "I'm alright, sir. How're the others doing?"
Jon looked around at the huddled figures of the Silotans, all now grimacing in pain. "Not too good. Hopefully Dr. Phlox will be able to help them."
"Hope so. They're good people, Cap'n."
Trip felt like a caged animal. He paced back and forth in the confined space of his quarters, very much aware of the watchful eyes of his captain on him.
"I need to get out of here, Cap'n!" the engineer shouted. He slammed a fist onto his desk then swung around to face Archer who sat quietly on Trip's bunk. He held a phase pistol loosely in one hand.
"You know what the doctor said, Trip. Right now you're a danger to yourself and to the crew."
"I won't hurt anyone!"
"Trip."
"You just don't get it! I'm suffocating in here! I can't breath!"
Archer stood up. "Why don't you try to rest? You've been up pacing for nearly five hours."
Trip turned and leaned forward on the back of his desk chair, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip. "I can't rest," he muttered. "I feel like I'm going crazy!"
"Phlox said it'll only be a few more hours. Just hang in there."
"Why are you here? I'm sure you've got more important things to tend to then your psychotic chief engineer."
"You know the answer to that, Trip," replied Archer. He came over to stand at Trip's elbow. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."
Trip's body started trembling. "Not again," he said angrily. He dropped his head between his shoulders and closed his eyes, willing his body to be still but the tremors continued.
"Hang on," coaxed Archer.
Finally the shaking slowed then stopped completely.
"I don't think I can take a few more hours of this, Cap'n," Trip said. He shoved Archer aside and headed to the door control panel.
"You know we've got it locked down, Trip."
The engineer growled then slammed his fists against the door. When he felt Archer's hand on his back, he swung around and pushed the older man away with violent force. The captain stumbled and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the desk. He lay in a lifeless heap on the floor.
"Serves you right," Trip spat. "Always interfering in my personal life. Thinking you're some kind of friend of mine!" He laughed out loud. "If you were a real friend, you'd let me out of here!"
Trip began pacing again, his eyes never leaving the inert form of his commanding officer.
To Be Continued
Chapter Four
A'Tal sat in the darkness while the others slept. The week of heat was to begin the next day. The old man stood slowly and stretched his tired body. He silently cursed the longevity of the Xyrillian species. So many prisoners had come and gone over the years and each time one would die, a small piece of A'Tal would die, too. Just the day before he'd watched Alta charge a guard and then fall dead from the shot to her chest. She wasn't the first to choose to be killed and A'Tal knew she wouldn't be the last. He knew he would choose a fast death to a slow, excruciating one if given the choice.
A'Tal sat back down and reached a hand out in the dark. He felt the shoulder of the young man next to him and he gave it an affectionate squeeze. He had always tried to remain at a safe distance emotionally from his cellmates so that their inevitable deaths wouldn't hurt quite as bad but Trip was different. The old man was astounded at how attached he'd become to this human in just three weeks time. He smiled in the darkness then shook his head. There wasn't even a moment he could pinpoint when Trip had knocked down the walls A'Tal had carefully put up around his heart. Somehow the starship engineer had just done it. The Xyrillian leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He said a silent prayer to his guiding spirit that his new friend would survive the next week.
Trip peered through the fog. He could hear voices but he couldn't see any shapes. Slowly he made his way toward the sounds.
"You've always been impulsive."
Trip turned around. "Cap'n?" he called. The fog continued to roll around him, gray clouds encircling him.
"They won't let me climb mountains."
"You're damn right it's your fault!"
"I want to stay here."
"Dismissed."
The voices echoed back and forth around him.
"Dismissed."
Trip covered his ears and started to run. He had no idea where he was going he only knew he had to get away from the voices. His heart was pounding hard and his lungs were fighting to take in enough air.
Then he stopped. There in front of him stood his Vissian friend, Charles. She was very still, the fog moving around her like phantoms. She was looking at him.
"Charles?" he whispered softly.
The co-genitor looked back at him with rounded eyes but she remained silent. Then slowly she raised a phase pistol and held the barrel against her temple.
"Goodbye, Trip," she murmured.
Charles squeezed the trigger.
Trip awoke with a start, breathing hard. He looked around frantically for Charles but she was nowhere to be seen. A hand gripped his arm and he tried to pull away.
"Trip?"
The engineer turned to see A'Tal looking at him with concern.
"A'Tal? Where is Charles? I have to stop her!"
"She's dead, Trip. Remember?"
"No, no! She's not dead! I saw her, A'Tal! I can save her!"
"Trip look at me," said the Xyrillian. He grabbed both of Trip's arms and turned him so they were face to face. "Look at me."
Trip looked at the old man in a panic then slowly the world came back into focus. In a brief moment of clarity, he knew exactly where he was.
"Are you alright?" asked A'Tal, his voice gentle.
Trip nodded. "I think so. For the moment anyway," he replied with a weak smile. His gaze went around the cell. Everyone was looking at him but no one moved. Pale light poured through the windows as dawn arrived.
"Captain!" cried Hoshi. "We're being hailed!"
Archer stood up from his chair. "Commander Omara?" he asked anxiously.
Hoshi shook her head. "No sir. It's a small transport vessel."
Archer looked at Malcolm. He immediately ran a scan of the tiny ship.
"Only particle weapons, sir," he reported. "No heavy artillery."
Archer turned back to his communications officer. "Put it through."
Malcolm looked at the screen as the face of a Silotan male appeared. He guessed the man to be around the captain's age. Beside him stood a little girl.
"Are you Captain Archer?" asked the man.
"Yes. What can I do for you?"
The girl smiled and held up her hand. Malcolm gasped. She was clutching a Starfleet shoulder patch.
"It is them, Father!" the girl cried happily. She turned to the captain. "We know where Trip is!"
Jon could hardly believe it was the same place. They had been so close to Trip before but Jon had been so focused on the prison, he hadn't even thought to look elsewhere on the little planet. He silently cursed himself and prayed that his friend was okay.
As the transport touched down, Jon gazed out the window at the bright sunshine. He could see guards milling around the landing pad and in the distance stood a small building. Malcolm moved up beside him.
"I see eight guards, sir," he said quietly. "Finn says during the break in the weather, they generally only have two on duty in the prison itself."
"Did he say why so few?"
Malcolm shook his head. "No, sir. He doesn't seem to know a lot about the place just what he's seen when this Breenan allows him to see his wife."
"She's never told him anything?"
"Apparently he only sees her working out in a field and then only for a brief minute. He's never been allowed to talk to her."
Jon looked up as Finn entered the hold. "We ready?"
The Silotan nodded. "The minute I open the door, the guards will take you, Captain," he said then he looked down briefly before lifting his eyes to Jon's. "Are you sure this'll work? I mean there are a lot of things that could go wrong."
"It has to, Finn. I want my friend back."
A'Tal looked around his cell. Everyone was quiet, huddled against the walls. Next to him laid Trip. The young man stared vacantly at the ceiling, the only noticeable movement the blinking of his eyes. The Xyrillian knew the Silotans would begin experiencing withdrawals in a matter of hours when their bodies would begin to crave the drug they were no longer receiving. He'd been through it so many times, the vomiting, the screaming, and the raging fevers. A'Tal shook his head sadly. He looked down at his human friend wondering what Trip would go through and when it would begin.
The cell door clicked as it was being unlocked. A'Tal stood and watched as the door swung open then he smiled as a human male entered. The man looked at each huddled figured then his eyes settled on the starship engineer.
"Trip!" he said and moved to the young man's side. He was followed by a group of men all brandishing rifles.
A'Tal knelt beside the stranger. "I knew you'd come for him."
The man looked up. "I'm Captain Archer," he said then his eyes dropped to Trip again. "What did they do to him?"
"Does your ship have a medical facility, Captain?"
Archer nodded.
"I will explain everything later. Right now all my friends need your help. Will you help them?"
"Sir. These are criminals," said a younger man who had knelt beside Archer.
The captain looked at A'Tal closely. "We'll help your friends," he replied. "Malcolm, have your men get these people to the transport."
Archer reached down and pulled Trip to his feet. A'Tal grabbed his friend's other arm and between them, they all but dragged the engineer from the cell.
Malcolm looked around the hold at the Silotan prisoners. They were all so quiet, almost meek, he thought. Finn sat in one corner holding his wife in his arms, stroking her white hair. Travis had agreed to pilot the transport back so that the Silotan could be with Kaea. Malcolm was thankful that their little daughter was still on Enterprise so that she wouldn't have to see her mother in her current condition.
The lieutenant's gaze moved then settled on the commander. Archer was sitting next to him, talking to him quietly but Trip seemed unaware. He looked around him but dazedly.
"How is he?" Malcolm asked as he dropped next to the captain.
"A'Tal, the Xyrillian," Archer replied, nodding his head toward the old man watching over the Silotans. "Says that he's been drugged."
"Drugged?"
Archer nodded. "Something called Triasaphen. A'Tal says its highly addictive. It was used to keep the prisoners in line."
A moan from the youngest Silotan drew Malcolm's attention. The boy was curled up, groaning in pain. A'Tal knelt beside the young man and rubbed his back.
"They're all going to go through withdrawals," Archer continued. "Trip included."
Malcolm looked back down at his friend. "How bad?" he asked.
"Apparently it's pretty painful for the Silotans but A'Tal has no idea what'll happen with Trip."
"Cap'n?" mumbled the engineer. "Is that you, Cap'n?"
Archer put his hand on Trip's shoulder. "Yeah, it's me."
"You came for me?"
"Did you think I wouldn't?"
"How'd you find me?"
"Finn and his daughter, Kamella helped us."
Trip nodded then closed his eyes. "I'm not feeling too good, Cap'n."
"We'll have you back to Enterprise in no time, Commander," said Malcolm.
Trip just nodded again.
Archer looked up at the lieutenant his concern plain on his face.
The little transport came under fire as it cleared the upper atmosphere of the planet. Jon stood up from Trip and looked out a tiny portal. He could see a Silotan cargo hauler firing at them. The captain was thankful that Travis was at the controls as the transport veered and spun out of the line of fire. Enterprise swept in and made a direct hit to the hauler's engines and Jon let out a breath of relief.
Jon's communicator beeped for attention. He reached in his pocket, pulled it out then flipped it open.
"T'Pol to Captain Archer."
"Archer, go ahead."
"Ensign Sato intercepted a communiqué being sent from the penal colony, sir," replied his first officer.
"Great. That means Omara will be sending his troops. We should be in the launch bay in a matter of minutes, T'Pol. Be ready to take us out of here at high warp the second the bay doors close."
"Yes, Captain. Was the mission successful?"
"Yes. We found him. Have Phlox prepare sickbay for some guests. We'll see you in a few minutes. Archer out." Jon closed his communicator and shoved it back into his pocket. He knelt down next to Trip again. "How're you feeling?" he asked.
The engineer shifted slightly. "I'm alright, sir. How're the others doing?"
Jon looked around at the huddled figures of the Silotans, all now grimacing in pain. "Not too good. Hopefully Dr. Phlox will be able to help them."
"Hope so. They're good people, Cap'n."
Trip felt like a caged animal. He paced back and forth in the confined space of his quarters, very much aware of the watchful eyes of his captain on him.
"I need to get out of here, Cap'n!" the engineer shouted. He slammed a fist onto his desk then swung around to face Archer who sat quietly on Trip's bunk. He held a phase pistol loosely in one hand.
"You know what the doctor said, Trip. Right now you're a danger to yourself and to the crew."
"I won't hurt anyone!"
"Trip."
"You just don't get it! I'm suffocating in here! I can't breath!"
Archer stood up. "Why don't you try to rest? You've been up pacing for nearly five hours."
Trip turned and leaned forward on the back of his desk chair, his knuckles turning white from his tight grip. "I can't rest," he muttered. "I feel like I'm going crazy!"
"Phlox said it'll only be a few more hours. Just hang in there."
"Why are you here? I'm sure you've got more important things to tend to then your psychotic chief engineer."
"You know the answer to that, Trip," replied Archer. He came over to stand at Trip's elbow. "I'm not letting you go through this alone."
Trip's body started trembling. "Not again," he said angrily. He dropped his head between his shoulders and closed his eyes, willing his body to be still but the tremors continued.
"Hang on," coaxed Archer.
Finally the shaking slowed then stopped completely.
"I don't think I can take a few more hours of this, Cap'n," Trip said. He shoved Archer aside and headed to the door control panel.
"You know we've got it locked down, Trip."
The engineer growled then slammed his fists against the door. When he felt Archer's hand on his back, he swung around and pushed the older man away with violent force. The captain stumbled and fell, hitting his head on the corner of the desk. He lay in a lifeless heap on the floor.
"Serves you right," Trip spat. "Always interfering in my personal life. Thinking you're some kind of friend of mine!" He laughed out loud. "If you were a real friend, you'd let me out of here!"
Trip began pacing again, his eyes never leaving the inert form of his commanding officer.
To Be Continued