Chapter Three



"What do you mean, the ship's been destroyed!" demanded Malcolm Reed. He stood from his chair, ignoring the look of warning given him by T'Pol. "Our two officers were on that ship!"

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. Please accept my condolences."

"Your condolences?" Malcolm stared in disbelief at the face of General B'Ren Taroot. "We saved your bloody prisoners of war and that's---."

"Lieutenant!" interrupted the Vulcan sub-commander firmly.

"We were unable to communicate to our brethren in time to stop the orders," explained the Tozran. "I am sorry, Sub-commander."

"I understand, General," replied T'Pol.

Malcolm looked at her in time to see her jaw muscles twitching. He knew she was seething inside as much as he was but it didn't help. He dropped his head for a moment. If only they'd left those people to die, Trip and the captain would probably still be alive. He bit his lower lip against the sudden rush of emotion. They'd done the right thing, he reminded himself. They'd saved thirty innocent lives.

"At least you were able to retrieve the body of your corporal."

"Yes, General."

Malcolm glanced up again at the face of the Tozran. They'd found Corporal Woods' bloodied corpse in the passenger section, thrown haphazardly just inside the doors. Malcolm knew from the other MACOs that the young corporal had a wife and child back on Earth. He swallowed the bile that rose suddenly in his throat.

"Again, Sub-commander, we are truly sorry for what's occurred here today."

T'Pol nodded once. "Thank you," she replied briskly then she nodded at Hoshi who instantly ended the transmission.

"What now, Sub-commander?" asked Travis.

"We go to the coordinates where the general claims the Karelle was destroyed," T'Pol replied. The Vulcan turned and moved slowly to the captain's chair then sat down. "Then we continue our mission, Ensign. We find and destroy the Xindi weapon."



Trip tried again and for the third time, the little propulsion unit failed to come to life. "Sonofabitch," hissed the engineer under his breath.

"Trip?"

"Yeah, Cap'n," replied Trip. He turned in his seat and bent over his friend. He'd managed to find medical supplies and a thermal blanket in one small compartment and had wrapped Archer's wound in the confined space. He looked closely at the bandages, noting how the bleeding had slowed but hadn't stopped completely.

Archer squinted up at him. "You're injured."

Trip reached up and wiped at his forehead, surprised to find his fingers bloody. "It's nothing, sir, just a scratch."

"How much longer?" breathed Archer weakly.

"Enterprise'll be here soon. You just hang on."

Archer nodded then fell silent.

Trip looked at the older man for a long moment then he turned and tried the propulsion unit again.

And again it failed to come to life. Trip cursed and slammed his fist into the console. He looked at the little gauge to his left, watching as it flashed red at him in steady intervals.

Their air supply was running low.

"Anything wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Trip lied. He lowered himself to the floor and gently picked up his friend's shoulders. He sat down then let Archer's head rest against his thigh. "You wanna play Geography?" he asked.

The captain smiled. "No," he replied then he coughed, his hand clutching at his side.

"Easy, Cap'n," soothed Trip. "Take it easy."

"I'm alright," gasped Archer.

Trip reached for a gauze bandage from the medical kit and gently swabbed his friend's brow.

"Would you have given it to her?" asked Archer.

"The formula?"

The captain nodded.

Trip shrugged. "Yeah probably, but with a few key omissions," he replied. "I needed to buy us some time. It was either that or give her the secret recipe to my uncle's special whiskey."

Archer smiled then fell silent. "Tell me about Bedford," he said finally.

"What? How the hell did you know about him?" asked Trip incredulously.

Archer looked up at the engineer. "Sim told me. He was only around 8 years old at the time."

"What else did he tell you?"

"Not a lot. We actually didn't talk that much," replied Archer.

Trip swallowed hard. He hadn't thought of his dog in years.

"Hey," Archer said as he nudged Trip's leg with his hand. "So what kind of dog was he?"

"A Golden Retriever. When I was little, I could ride him like a horse." Trip leaned back against the wall and smiled warmly at the memories. "There was this lake at my grandparents' house. Grandma used to always tell me never to go down to it without a grown-up." Trip shifted slightly. "Did I listen? I wasn't even four yet 'cause Lizzie was still a baby. I wandered down to the lake with Bedford and we both decided to take a swim."

The engineer shivered. "I remember wading in then nothing! The bottom just disappeared from under my feet. I thought I was a goner for sure! Then Bedford was there. I grabbed hold of his collar and he swam us to shore. Saved my life, that old dog." He chuckled softly. "Needless to say I got a pretty good swat on my backside from my grandma when she saw us both soaked to the skin."

"Sounds like Bedford was pretty special."

Trip nodded. "He used to go everywhere with Lizzie and me. Never let us out of his sight." He shook his head. "We had a lot of fun together, just the three of us."

"You and Lizzie spent a lot of time together?"

"Yeah. My folks worked a lot and my brother was off busy with sports and girls. He was a lot older than Liz and me. And we couldn't afford a 'sitter so it was my job to keep an eye on her. She was a good kid though so I didn't really mind." He sighed sadly. "I still can't believe she's gone."

They fell silent and Trip wiped the beads of perspiration from Archer's brow.

"Trip?"

"Yeah."

"Promise me you won't let this mission fail. Promise me that," Archer said. He reached up and grabbed the commander's wrist staying it. "Swear to me, Trip."

"WE won't let the mission fail, Cap'n, you're going to be fine."

Archer looked at Trip, his fingers still closed tightly around the engineer's wrist. "Promise me, Commander," he said sharply.

"Oh no you don't! You are not going to give up on me, Cap'n!" ordered Trip. "We've been through too much for it to end like this, you understand? This crew needs you to lead them."

"Trip---."

Trip looked squarely at his commanding officer daring him to argue with him any further.

Archer hesitated then he pursed his lips and nodded slowly. His eyes slid shut as he released Trip's wrist.

"Good. Now shut up and lie still. T'Pol will be here any moment."

Archer coughed. "That sounds a lot like insubordination to me, Commander," he managed.

Trip snorted. "Well then when Enterprise gets here, you feel free to lock me in the brig, sir."

"You'd probably find some way to get into trouble even in the brig," the captain mumbled.

"Very funny. And this from the Starfleet captain who can't seem to set foot off his own ship without something happening to him."

Archer chuckled then coughed harshly.

"Hey, take it easy."

The captain waved his hand. "I'm alright, just finding it hard to catch my breath."

Trip glanced at the flashing red light. "Maybe you should try to rest, Cap'n. I'll wake you when T'Pol gets here."

Archer nodded and fell silent. After a few moments, his breathing evened out and Trip knew he'd fallen asleep.

The engineer stared out the little view port. He'd realized long ago what an important role Archer's friendship had in his life and that he'd gladly lay down his life for the man at any time. What surprised him, though, was that the captain seemed to feel the same way.

He smiled warmly. Over all those years, neither of them had ever actually spoken of their powerful bond. Even after Sim, neither of them spoke of it. They'd just always known it was there and that it would always be there no matter what happened. Archer was the one true constant in Trip's life, his touchstone, his friend, even his brother. And, the commander reminded himself with sudden affection, even his self-appointed protector.

Trip let his head fall back. He closed his eyes and let his mind wander, let himself remember all the times they'd shared, both good and bad.

"I'm sorry, Cap'n," he whispered finally. "You've always protected me and the one time I could protect you, I failed." Trip swallowed the sudden swell of emotion. "I'm sorry, sir."



Dr. Phlox dimmed the lights in sickbay then moved to his chair and sat down. The lights just seemed too bright to him suddenly.

The Denobulan leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. They were dead, both the captain and Commander Tucker. He shook his head. Although he'd had disagreements with Archer, Phlox still had the utmost respect for and loyalty to the man. In his eyes, Archer was nothing short of a memorable human being.

Phlox sat back and looked up at the ceiling. As much as he felt for the captain, though, it was Commander Tucker who had forever found a place in his heart. The doctor couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the young engineer. In his mind's eye, Phlox could still clearly see the baby he'd held and rocked in his arms. He had tried to remain distant and clinical toward Sim, but he had failed miserably.

He sat forward again, covering his face with his hands. Even though Sim was a distinct individual, Phlox couldn't help but feel he'd had a glimpse of the boy Trip had once been. Now they were both gone and his captain as well, lost to him because of the Expanse.

"T'Pol to sickbay."

Phlox sighed then forced himself to his feet. He moved to the nearest comm. "Go ahead, Sub-commander."

"Doctor, meet me in launch bay one. We're bringing an escape pod on board."

"An escape pod?"

"There isn't time to explain, Doctor."

"Alright, alright, T'Pol, I'm on my way." Phlox ended the call. He quickly grabbed his medical case from the counter then hurried out of the darkened sickbay.



Continued