Chapter Three



"What?" asked Jon.

"Its Zeekiel," replied T'Pol.

Jon's instincts instantly told him his science officer was right. In a split second, all the pieces fell into place. He swung around and stared at the young Datorian.

"She's wrong," breathed Zeekiel.

"Let Trip go," demanded Jon as he took a step toward the younger man.

"I'm not doing anything. I'm only a companion."

"You said that elders were members of other classes in their youth, members who showed special mental capabilities." Jon took another step. "Capabilities like yours."

Suddenly Trip cried out. Jon turned to look at his friend who was writhing and fighting against his restraints. He cried out again.

"Stop this," demanded T'Pol.

"If you harm me, Captain, I will kill him and his death will not be a quick one." He smiled. "Or maybe I'll just destroy his mind."

Jon looked back at the Datorian but he could still hear the engineer's moans behind him.

"Let him go."

The captain turned at the new voice. Meesa stood by her sleeping pod with Reed, Phlox, and Rostov beside her. She seemed unsteady but the old woman's deep purple eyes were blazing.

"Mistress," gasped Zeekiel.

"Let him go, Zeekiel," demanded the elder again. She moved forward and placed herself between the captain and her companion.

"I won't, Mistress."

Jon moved to Trip's bedside and placed his hand on the commander's forehead. Dr. Phlox moved quickly to his patient's side. The engineer was still fighting against his restraints and Jon could see blood encircling his wrists. His friend's eyes were still opened and the agony he was feeling was clearly reflected in them. T'Pol appeared at the head of the bed. She placed her hands firmly on Trip's shoulders to hold him still.

"I demand that you stop this torture!" shouted Meesa. "Please, Zeekiel. I don't want to hurt you!"

Zeekiel laughed mirthlessly. "You are an old woman, Mistress. You can't hurt me."

Trip clamped his jaw against a scream and tears slid from his eyes down his temples to soak into his pillow.

"Zeekiel!" shouted Meesa. "Please!"

The young Datorian laughed again in response then he fell suddenly silent.

Trip's writhing ceased instantly and his eyes slowly closed. Keeping his hand on Trip's forehead, Jon turned to see Zeekiel lying in a heap on the floor. Meesa knelt beside him and bowed her head. Then the old woman stood and moved to Jon's side.

"Is he dead?" asked the captain.

"Yes."

"Thank you, Meesa."

The elder smiled weakly. "I was showing him how to use his gift. I had no idea he would use it for such cruelty." She looked up at the captain. "You have me at a disadvantage, sir. I was told I would be transported to Datoria IV on an alien vessel but I have no idea who you are."



Trip blinked. He was standing on the bridge surrounded by his friends. He looked down at his hands and found them covered with blood, their blood, and it was still warm. He turned to see Archer sitting awkwardly in his chair, half of his head torn away. Beyond him Trip could see Malcolm slumped over his console, his dark hair matted, his uniform soaked. Turning, the engineer saw Travis and Hoshi sprawled on the deck, their bodies bloodied and broken.

"No," Trip choked. He stepped over to the science station and knelt beside T'Pol's still form. He rolled her over. She was dead, her heart pulled from her chest, green blood everywhere.

The 'lift door slid open, drawing Trip's attention and Dr. Phlox appeared.

Trip stood. "Doc, help me!" he pleaded.

The Denobulan stared back at the commander with lifeless eyes then he fell forward into Trip's arms. There was a gaping hole in the doctor's back. Trip dropped the body then backed away, tears springing to his eyes. They were all dead.

The engineer turned and ran but couldn't escape the bridge, the bodies of his friends, the people he considered his second family. Their blood was splattered everywhere and its stench filled Trip's nostrils. He tripped over Travis then crawled on his hands and knees, fighting to catch his breath, struggling to get away from what he'd done.

Then he stopped and vomited.

"Its alright, Commander," said Phlox gently. "You're safe."

Trip retched again. Then he felt a warm gentle hand on his shoulder keeping him rolled onto his side. He threw up one last time then felt himself eased gently onto his back.

Trip opened his eyes and stared into the face of the doctor. "You're alive?" he gasped as he sat up.

Phlox nodded as he placed the silver bowl he held on the bedside table. "Yes, as are Captain Archer and the others." He applied gentle pressure to Trip's chest forcing him down. "Now lie back and try to relax." The doctor pulled the blanket up to cover the engineer.

"But I killed them all, I killed you, Doc."

"No, Commander," replied Phlox gently. "Zeekiel forced you to believe that's what happened but as you can see, I'm still very much alive."

Trip squeezed his eyes shut and the horrible images of what he'd done to his friends assaulted him immediately. Charles Tucker III was a killer.

The engineer brought his hands up to cover his face as he wept.



T'Pol followed behind Archer and the elder Datorian as the three entered sickbay. She and the captain had taken Meesa to get something to eat while they waited for the commander to regain consciousness. The call had come from Phlox only moments before informing them that Tucker was awakening.

The sight of the commander weeping caused T'Pol to stop just inside the doors. She had never seen him so broken and she was momentarily overcome by a strange ache in her chest. She swallowed and willed herself to move to the engineer's bedside with Archer.

"Trip?" whispered the captain. "I'm here, Trip."

Tucker shook his head. "No," he croaked.

"Come on, Trip," coaxed Archer. "Look at me." He gently reached out and took the commander's hands then pulled them away from his face. "Look at me, Trip."

Tucker turned his head away. "I---I can't," he managed. "This isn't real. You're dead."

The captain gripped the hands he still held tightly. "I'm not dead, Trip. Look at me."

Suddenly Tucker pulled away. He rolled off the bed, knocking Phlox to the floor then he stumbled to the counter. One hand closed around a laser scalpel.

T'Pol moved instantly to Tucker's side and grabbed his wrist, staying his hand. "No, Commander," she said firmly.

Tucker turned swollen eyes to look at her. "T'Pol?" he whispered.

"Yes, Mr. Tucker."

Tears formed in his eyes as he reached his free hand up to touch T'Pol's cheek. "I'm sorry I hurt you."

"You have not hurt me," replied T'Pol softly.

Tucker nodded. "But I did, T'Pol. And I can't live with that." He tried to pull his other hand away from her strong grip.

"If you end your life, Mr. Tucker, only then will you hurt me," T'Pol whispered gently.

The commander touched her cheek again. T'Pol raised her other hand to Tucker's shoulder where she sought out the nerve near his neck then she squeezed and the engineer collapsed against her.

Archer stepped forward and took Tucker's legs then together they returned the unconscious commander to his bed.

"Can you help him, Meesa?" asked Phlox.

The elder stood silently at the foot of Tucker's bed. "I am an old woman, Doctor. My gift has faded with age. And I am weakened by my struggle with Zeekiel." She moved up to stand beside Phlox. She looked at the commander. "But I will try."

"What will you do?" asked T'Pol.

Meesa sighed. "He is seeing the violent images as actual occurrences in his life. They are very real to him as are the emotions that accompany them. I must remove these images from his mind."

"Have you done this before?" inquired Archer.

The elder smiled. "No, Captain," she replied. "I have had no such need on my home world. My gift was used only to better our understanding of and our relations with other worlds. You see I was a politician in my youth."

Tucker began to stir, his head rolling from side to side.

"Captain, the restraints," directed Phlox. "T'Pol, would you please?"

As Archer and the doctor tightened the bands around Tucker's wrists, T'Pol closed the restraints around his ankles.

The commander began thrashing more violently then his eyes flew open. "Let me go," he pleaded as he struggled. Then he stopped. "Please, just let me- --."

Archer leaned in close to his friend. "Hang on, Trip. Meesa is going to help you."

Tucker settled and looked directly at Archer. "Cap'n?"

"Yes, Trip."

"You're here?"

Archer nodded. "We're all here, Trip."

"Hello, Commander," said Meesa gently. Phlox moved aside so that the tiny woman could step closer. "I'm going to take your nightmares away, young man."

Tucker looked at her in obvious confusion. "My nightmares?"

Meesa nodded. "Doctor, he will need to be heavily sedated," she said over her shoulder.

Phlox took a hypospray and gently placed it on Tucker's neck then released its contents.

"No," Tucker said, his voice already slurring. "Don't take Lizzie." His eyes closed slowly. "Don't take Lizzie," he murmured again.

Meesa looked up at Archer. "Lizzie?" she asked.

"His sister."

"She was killed in an attack on the human home world," explained T'Pol. She let her gaze fall on the sleeping commander. "Mr. Tucker has been haunted by her death in his dreams."

"I see," replied the elder. "And I think I understand. I will not touch the images of his cherished one."

"Thank you," said Archer softly.

Meesa sighed. "I only hope you will thank me when this is over, Captain."



Jon began pacing again. Meesa had been with Trip for over three hours and there was still no word from Dr. Phlox as to how it was going. He stared at the closed curtain that surrounded his friend's bed as he walked back and forth.

"As I stated before, Captain," said T'Pol. "Your pacing will not speed up the procedure."

Jon looked at his first officer who stood perfectly still, her hands clasped behind her back.

"How can you remain so calm, Sub-commander?" asked Malcolm who had joined his senior officers earlier. "Trip's sanity is at stake here."

"Just because I do not openly display my concern, Lieutenant, does not mean that I do not feel it," replied T'Pol and Jon caught the hint of anger in her carefully controlled voice. From the look on Malcolm's face, the captain knew he'd caught it as well.

The three fell silent again but Jon continued his pacing. Then the curtain opened and Phlox appeared carrying Meesa in his arms. He hurried to help the doctor lay the elder gently on a bio-bed.

"The procedure is finished," said Phlox. "She merely passed out from exhaustion. She should be fine with some rest."

Jon nodded then joined Malcolm and T'Pol at Trip's side. His friend was resting peacefully, his face relaxed and calm.

"Did it work?" asked Malcolm.

"We won't know for certain until he awakens," replied the doctor. "Now might I suggest that the three of you take a break? I'll let you know when he begins to stir."

"If you don't mind, Doc, I think I'll stay right here," said Jon.

"As will I," added Malcolm.

"I would like to remain here as well, Doctor."

Phlox sighed but smiled knowingly. "Alright then but do remain quiet, hmm."

Only minutes had passed when Trip started to mumble in his sleep. His head jerked from side to side and his hands flexed. Jon's stomach knotted with fear.

He leaned over his friend and placed his hand on Trip's forehead. "Shhh," he soothed. "You're okay, Trip."

Trip's eyes opened suddenly and he looked around in confusion. "What---?" he began then his eyes found Jon. "Cap'n? What's going on?"

"How do you feel, Commander?" asked Phlox.

"My head's killing me, Doc," Trip replied with a grimace. "Why am I in sickbay?"

"What's the last thing you remember?" asked Jon. He removed his hand from his friend's forehead.

Trip closed his eyes. "I was in engineering with Zeekiel, going over the shift schedule with Malcolm and Rostov." He paused then opened his eyes. "She was doing something to my mind, Cap'n, but why can't I remember?"

"It wasn't Meesa, Trip. Turns out it was Zeekiel who was hurting you."

"Zeekiel? But why?"

"Remember at breakfast when I said he seemed quite taken with you?" asked Malcolm.

Trip nodded. "You were only joking."

"I was at the time but unfortunately it appears I was right."

"That explains all his questions."

"My companion saw something he wanted but couldn't have, Commander," said Meesa who suddenly appeared at Jon's elbow. He thought she looked worn and even more aged then before.

Trip's eyes widened at the sight of the elder and he shied away.

Jon put his hand on his friend's arm. "Its okay. She's the one who helped you."

Trip looked hesitant. "How?"

"I removed the visions Zeekiel planted in your mind," replied Meesa. She smiled warmly at the engineer. "I wasn't certain if I was going to be successful. You have a somewhat chaotic mind."

"Indeed," agreed T'Pol.

Trip smiled at the Vulcan then turned to Meesa. "Thank you for helping me."

"You are quite welcome, young man."

"I'm afraid I have to ask all of you to leave," interrupted Phlox. "I'd like Commander Tucker to get some rest." He looked at the elder. "You may stay and rest as well, if you'd like."

Meesa shook her head. "What I'd like is to see your marvelous ship, Captain. Then I'm afraid I must go back into the Timbarra until the end of my journey."

"What will you do without your companion?" asked Trip. "Who will take care of you?"

Meesa patted his hand. "Now don't you fret over me, young man. I'll be well looked after." She looked up at Jon. "If it's no trouble, I'd like Sub-commander T'Pol to give me the tour. Some female conversation would be quite refreshing for this old woman."

"T'Pol?" asked Jon.

"I would be honored to show you the ship," replied the sub-commander with a dip of her head.

"I should be going as well," said Malcolm reluctantly. "Take care of yourself, Commander. I'll be back to check on you later."

"Thanks, Malcolm."

Jon watched the three as they exited sickbay then he turned back to his friend. "Before you awoke just now, you were having a dream. What was it?"

Trip looked at the ceiling and his fingers picked absently at his blanket.

"Was it about your sister?"

The commander nodded reluctantly. "As horrible as they are, the nightmares are the only time I can see her alive, Cap'n. If they stop, then she's really gone."

Jon shared a concerned look with Dr. Phlox. He patted Trip's arm gently. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

Phlox administered a hypospray and the captain watched as his friend drifted into sleep.

"Has he talked to you about his sister yet, Captain?"

Jon shook his head.

"Have you asked him about her?"

"No, Doctor," Jon replied a bit harsher than he intended. He sighed. "He's been acting more like himself lately. I guess I thought he'd talked to T'Pol."

"I think 'acting' is the operative word here," replied Phlox. He pulled Trip's blanket up under the engineer's chin. "I'm afraid humans and Denobulans both are generally blind when it comes to those we care about most. And no, he hasn't confided in T'Pol. She has certainly tried to get him to open up but each time she broaches the subject, he becomes highly agitated."

"He's hanging onto his grief, isn't he? So when we finally find those responsible for his sister's death---." Jon stopped. "I'll keep him safe, Doc. He might hate me for it, but I'll keep him safe. In the mean time, though, I've got a weapon to find. I need to devote all my energy to finding it." He looked down at his sleeping friend. "But I'll be there for you when this is finished, Trip. I promise you that---if its not too late."



Continued