Disclaimer: The plot is the only piece of this puzzle that I have a claim to.

Finishing with the Beginning

The moment he accepted the transmission, it looked as though Admiral Forrest might explode. "What the hell is going on, Archer?"

"I'm working on the full report at the moment, sir," came the weary but respectful reply. If the admiral's tone was any indication, it was a good thing he was in his ready room, where at least he was sitting down.

"I just got this," proceeded Forrest, waving a padd in the air. "A request for a new science officer, communications officer with expertise in exolinguistics, pilot, armory officer, chief engineer, and another security officer. This document leads me to the unpleasant conclusion that Dr. Phlox is the only other member of your senior staff still alive, but there are no death certificates included in this transmission. So I'm going to ask you again, Captain. What the hell is going on?"

"My report will…"

"I'm not waiting for the report."

Jonathan Archer sighed and put his padd aside. Steeling himself emotionally, he began to talk.

                                                 **********

Travis had been thrilled with his assignment. Orbiting the entire area of the planet were asteroids, a moving sphere several layers thick. Excitement had been lacking at the helm lately, and he was excited at the prospect of maneuvering Shuttlepod One down to the surface of Aria IV. Once there, Commander Tucker was going to help the Arians make sure that the hull of their first space vehicle could withstand the strain of frequent trips through the asteroids.

"This could get rough," he commented as he initiated their descent.

"I wish these things had seat belts," muttered the commander. Travis chose to ignore the remark.

"We're ready," piped up the other occupant of the shuttle. Ensign Tatiana Silina was accompanying them because Lieutenant Reed had insisted that someone from security go down to the surface. Travis had talked to Tatiana before, finding her formal manner of speaking, a remnant of learning English as a second language, to belie a playful and lighthearted woman.

Once safely on the surface, Travis and Tatiana had ample time to talk. Someone had thoughtfully brought in chairs, and they talked while Commander Tucker and the Arian engineering team tweaked the alien vessel. He admired her ability to carry on an engaging conversation while simultaneously and rather ceaselessly observing, staying alert for any threat to them or the Chief Engineer across the room. They talked about life experiences- his life as a boomer was so different from hers. She'd never even been to the moon before joining Starfleet, which he couldn't imagine. Then again, she couldn't imagine not knowing one spot of Earth so well that it was nearly a part of you.

Eventually Tatiana looked at the engineers swarming around the shuttle and remarked, "They look like birds, trying to build a nest out of so many shiny things."

"Tatiana Silina! You'd better not let Commander Tucker hear you talk about engineering projects that way." When she started laughing, Travis was perplexed. It was funny, but not that funny.

"My apologies, Travis, but to rebuke such as you attempted you must call me Tatiana Ivanovna. It sounds silly the way you said it."

"Ivanovna?"

"You said "Eevanovna." This is good. Too many people believe it is "Eyevanovna." In Russian, we haven't this hard sound. Ivan is my father."

"So your middle name means daughter of Ivan."

"Something like this. My sister and I are Ivanovna. Our brother is Ivanovich. These do not translate neatly. It is saying "Ivan, feminine," or "Ivan, male," but it is understood to indicate paternity."

Some people wondered how the universe could hold such diverse cultures. Travis thought it astounding that many cultures shared so much in common, when the diversity a single planet could produce was astounding. He told Tatiana that. He also wondered which way he would address her to ask her on a date, but this he kept to himself.

"Becoming a philosopher, Travis?"

Their conversation was abruptly cut off when Commander Tucker strode over. "Ready ta go back? The Arian shuttle's as good as I can make 'er."

Right before he took Shuttlepod One up through the asteroid field the adrenaline kicked in. His senses heightened as he turned- right, right, left, down and under, now back up, left- and got them through the maze. He noticed that Shuttlepod Two had launched, but it looked as though they'd pass by with a little over fifteen meters between them. In Enterprise, fifteen meters wasn't much at all, but it was ample room in the small shuttlepods.

Which is why Travis Mayweather was very surprised to see that the shuttlepods were suddenly on a collision course. His sensors were dead. What happened?

"Travis!" shouted out Commander Tucker, who was trying to hail Shuttlepod Two, or Enterprise, or both.

"Helm unresponsive. Switching to manual. Still unresponsive." He looked up and saw on the small viewscreen a streak pushing Shuttlepod Two towards them. It was at once both every color he'd ever seen, plus many he hadn't, and no color at all. This thin, pulsing streak probably had a twin behind his shuttlepod. Frantically he pushed buttons, brakes, anything he could think of that would, under normal conditions, do something helpful. Nothing happened. "There's nothing I can do!" Still, he tried, and kept trying until suddenly the colors that weren't enveloped him. His last thought was regret that he'd never get to ask Tatiana Ivanovna Silina on a date.

    **********

Malcolm was in a good mood as he walked to the shuttlebay with Hoshi and T'Pol. Not only had Captain Archer allowed him to send security with the second away team, the captain, in an unusually cautious mood, had sent him personally. (The possibility that Archer just wanted him out of his hair had occurred to him, but it didn't seem likely so he dismissed it.) He hadn't been forced to argue with the captain over security. Perhaps a couple of years had made him realize how important security precautions were. Malcolm wouldn't have minded having another of his people, but he'd decided not to press the issue.

Hoshi was already working on a translation, looking up from her padd only occasionally as she walked. It was a good thing the corridors were practically deserted, or she would've run into a good many people. The Arians had received a transmission from Aria III, which had showed no signs of advanced technology until five minutes previously. They were having trouble deciphering the language, but had noted it shared some qualities with English, and had requested Hoshi's help. (All they'd managed to figure out so far was that the inhabitants of Aria III called their planet "Nerth.") Additionally, since the asteroid field was distorting the already weak transmission, T'Pol was going to the surface to do work on making a clearer transmission. Malcolm knew that there were plenty of people on board Enterprise who could do that, so T'Pol was also going for her ability to pilot. Although she did not often pilot, Malcolm had seen her at the helm once on an away mission, and she was almost as good as Travis.

"Amazing. This language is very similar to English! The syntax is almost identical, and many of the words sound like ours. It's practically just the alphabet that's different!" exclaimed Hoshi from the back.

Their launch went smoothly, and Malcolm focused on the readouts he was getting as copilot. Really, there was nothing for him to do, but he liked to be busy. Sometimes this required a little inventiveness. Hoshi had gotten her new language look on her face and was, very unsurprisingly, deeply involved in her padd. Malcolm found the look on her face very attractive, but that thought was out of line, as it was every time, and he went back to the readouts.

He saw the problem at the exact same moment T'Pol did. One second they were on course to the surface, and it looked as though they'd pass the returning Shuttlepod One with fifteen and a half meters. The next second nothing in the shuttlepod was working and they were going to collide into Shuttlepod One. He couldn't even get a hail out to tell Travis they'd lost all control.

"All systems unresponsive," T'Pol said. "Manual control is having no effect. I am unable to influence our flight path."

Now even Hoshi had come out of her linguistics reverie. "Malcolm?" she said, trying hard not to sound afraid but not quite succeeding.

"There's nothing we can do." No matter how many buttons he pushed, no matter how fervently he wished for a miracle, they were going to crash.

"At least it's beautiful," she said in a small voice. Leave it to Hoshi to notice beauty when they were about to die. Looking at the screen (what difference did it make now, anyway?) he saw that she was right on two counts. First, there was something, her "it," pushing Shuttlepod One towards them. Probably a similar anomaly was behind them. They could see it, pushing the other shuttlepod towards them. Yet, it was beautiful. It pulsated with many colors, more than half of which Malcolm didn't think he'd ever seen, but then seemed to have no color at all.

"I was able to send a brief data burst to Enterprise." He didn't know how T'Pol managed it, but before he could ask her, Malcolm Reed succumbed to the colors that were not.

                                           **********

Things were going fine until the streaks came out from nowhere. He could only watch in horror as the two shuttlepods were pushed together. The way the streaks were pulsing, in waves, it was strange that the shuttles were going at a steady pace. In the scheme of things, this wasn't a terribly helpful observation.

"Hail them!" he'd immediately told Ensign Jenkins, covering for Hoshi. She was a good communications officer who always did a good job at her post, if not the brilliant linguist Hoshi was. Wisely, she didn't ask which shuttlepod to hail. When the first didn't respond, she tried the other.

"No response from either of them, sir, but I'll keep trying."

Lieutenant (junior grade) McAllister failed to provide Malcolm's usual sense of calm in the middle of chaos, but she was doing her best. "I can't get a tractor lock on either shuttlepod!"

"Could a torpedo knock them off course?" Damn, he was getting really desperate.

"I don't think it could do anything but harm, sir."

Ensign Lee at the science station added her input. "I can't make heads or tails of this thing, Captain, but it's off every chart I've got."

"Any ideas?" In response, the bridge was conspicuously silent. He heard T'Pol's station emit beeps of all varieties, and Lee was scanning the monstrosity in front of them. He did not doubt her abilities, but all the same, it was T'Pol's station.

Propelled by streaks of more colors than he could count that at the same time managed to look colorless, the two shuttlepods, carrying six members of his crew –five from his senior staff, with whom he'd developed a special friendship- hurtled towards each other. He didn't want to look, but forced himself to out of loyalty, respect, and a certain measure of desperate hope.

Just as Jonathan Archer was sure that he was going to watch his closest friends smash into each other and meet their deaths, the streaks disappeared and the shuttles hung next to each other, inert in space. His elation quickly plummeted when Lee broke the silence.

"No life signs, sir."

                                             **********

Hoshi woke up slowly, enjoying the feeling of the sun radiating on her face. Wait a second…sun? What about Enterprise? Suddenly it all came flooding back to her- the colored and yet colorless streak, the shuttle crash. I'm alive!

This prompted her to open her eyes very quickly, but it took a moment for them to adjust to the bright light. While she couldn't really see anything, she said to herself, "I'm alive!"

"Indeed you are, Ensign. As am I, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Silina, and Ensign Mayweather." Hoshi was so happy to see T'Pol she could've hugged her, but instead opted to sit near her on the grassy hillside... The other four were still asleep, and evidently quite unharmed.

"What happened? Where are we?"

"I regret that I cannot answer either question."

"No tricorder?" That was unlike T'Pol.

"My utility belt was not transported to this planet with me. Neither were the phase pistols that Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Silina were undoubtedly carrying or our communicators."

"I'm alive."

"An astute observation, Commander. Is everyone accounted for?"

The southern drawl and clipped British alerted the women to Trip and Malcolm's return to the waking world.

"We're all here," Hoshi supplied.

"However, we do not have any of our equipment," T'Pol added. The two men had figured that out quickly. As soon as he woke up, Malcolm had reached for his phase pistol and discovered that he didn't have so much as the holster. Trip had attempted to take out his communicator but also came up empty-handed.

"Nothin' but the clothes on our backs," Trip concluded remorsefully, thinking fondly of his tool kit in the shuttlepod and how useful it could be. Deciding to look on the bright side, he forced more cheer into his voice. "But we're all here without a scratch."

"How is that possible? We were going to crash." It seemed that Malcolm had already found a makeshift weapon in the form of an oval rock that he gripped in his right hand.

"I do not know. My Vulcan physiology prevented me from falling asleep, as you did. We simply left the shuttle and arrived this hill."

Since T'Pol didn't have any answers, Malcolm hiked up the rest of the hill and studied the view from all angles. "I don't see anyone."

Joining him, Hoshi took in their surroundings. Down past the side of the hill that they awoke on was a forest. Opposite that was a lake, and otherwise all she could see was a rolling field, dotted here and there with bushes and the odd tree. They stood in silence, taking it in.

Meanwhile Travis was waking up below. "Tatiana?" he muttered. Groggily, he forced himself to a sitting position.

"Ensign Silina is three meters to your left."

"T'Pol? You're here too?"

"She is, an' so're Hoshi and Malcolm," Trip supplied.

"My phase pistol is gone." Tatiana Silina's first sentence upon waking marked her as the other security officer of the group.

"We do not have any equipment." At this point, T'Pol was beginning to realize that if they were marooned for any length of time she was going to want her meditation candles more than anything else.

Malcolm and Hoshi came down from the top of the hill, and upon seeing all his companions awake, Malcolm declared the hill "the best defensive location around."

"There is no proof of malicious intent, Lieutenant."

"T'Pol, I dunno about you, but I've never had a friendly howdie-do like that before."

While T'Pol arched one eyebrow up, Tatiana spoke up. "I think it'd be best if we took watches tonight."

"As soon as we figure out when night is," sighed Travis. He'd have to ask T'Pol how long he was asleep, because he didn't particularly feel refreshed.

Looking at the sky, Tatiana ventured a guess. "I suppose it is either three o'clock in the afternoon or nine o'clock in the morning, by Earth standards."

As it turned out, it was afternoon. The six of them spent the rest of the daylight hours discussing their situation, which led to more questions than answers, and finding a small stream that led to the lake. After some debate, it was decided that they'd drink some of the water. It would have been better to have a tricorder with which to scan the water, but Hoshi led the way in drinking. It didn't look like they would have access to a tricorder soon, and it was important to keep hydrated.

Tomorrow we'll have to find food. With this thought Hoshi drifted off to sleep.

                                 *************

Archer had really wanted to go examine the shuttles himself, but then there wouldn't be anybody left to take the bridge, so he opted instead to keep an open communications link with his team. They hadn't found anything, anyway. The shuttles, and all the equipment in them down to communicators, were unharmed and intact. His people were gone. The science department was going over the scans and the short data burst Shuttlepod Two had sent, but so far they'd come up with nothing at all. The data burst was very short and apparently told them that the streaks were made up of a great deal of material they couldn't measure and didn't have any idea what it might be. Personally he found significance in the fact that someone, presumably T'Pol, had been alive and well enough to send it. And if they never actually crashed, then he had reason to believe that she, as well as everyone else in the shuttlepods, was still alive.

Dr. Phlox was involved as well. He'd been briefed and was given the bits and pieces of information that were comprehensible. A small percentage of the streaks seemed to be composed of known substances, and Archer gave this list to Phlox in case he had any ideas as to possible effects. So far, he hadn't come up with anything and told his captain in no uncertain terms that he doubted he would. However, he'd also scanned the shuttlepods for DNA traces. There were plenty, of six different varieties, but happily no blood was found. That reassured Archer, but it was only a small amount of comfort.

The Arians had been most cooperative, although they didn't know any more than he did. Many of their citizens had seen the streaks, and now archivists were looking for records of these in the past. Their scientists were also trying to figure out the anomaly, although they weren't making any more progress than Enterprise. He'd talked to the engineering team about Shuttlepod One's takeoff and was told nothing remotely unusual occurred. Nothing went wrong, and nothing should be wrong. He even had his shuttlepods back without so much as a scratch. Now if the anomaly had just left his people alone!

Pacing around in his ready room, he was trying to make sense of the events of the last ten hours when someone- he was too tired to remember who- told him he had an incoming transmission.

"Grolf, I'm sorry that we haven't been of more help with your linguistics puzzle."

"No, captain, it is understandable. This mystery concerns you very deeply. I contacted you for two reasons: one, to express my desire for the swift retrieval of your people."

"Thank you. It can't come fast enough."

"No, but I understand that you have reason to believe that they survived, which is wonderful news."

"Yes."

"The second reason I contacted you is that we have made much progress translating the message from Aria III, from those who call their planet Nerth. The syntax is remarkably close to your English. This cannot be explained, but I have sent Enterprise the translation algorithm."

"I appreciate your concern and your information, Grolf. If we come to any conclusions, we'll contact Shelb." Shelb took all transmissions for all branches of government and sent them out to the appropriate party, or connected transmissions. Compared to some bureaucracies he'd encountered, Archer thought the Arian system was fairly efficient.

He desperately wished he had more information.

                                       ************

Hoshi and Travis were the first to wake up. T'Pol had taken the last third of the watch, and she was sitting serenely on the top of the hill, keeping aware of everything that was going on. After a few minutes, she and Hoshi decided to go get a drink from the stream, since no adverse effects from their previous drink had been observed.

"It would be unwise to allow ourselves to suffer from dehydration," T'Pol agreed, although Hoshi knew that she disliked using her hands as a cup to drink from. The stream was just a few meters from the bottom of the hill, and they were almost there when T'Pol suddenly stopped.

"What's wrong?"

"We may have been closer to danger last night than we thought."

Following T'Pol's gaze, Hoshi found her own eye settle on a line of footprints of a large variety that most likely belonged to a voracious predator. T'Pol bent down to analyze the tracks, while Hoshi looked around to make sure that the animal wasn't around.

"These prints were most likely made by a creature weighing approximately 450 kilograms that possesses sharp claws." Hoshi didn't know how T'Pol figured out its weight, math not being her specialty, but it was obviously big and a predator. This was a very bad combination, especially when their defense consisted of nothing more than a small pile of rocks Malcolm had accumulated and a long stick that Tatiana had happened upon.

"I think we need to find a safer place to sleep tonight. Hopefully Enterprise will come, but I don't want to take any chances."

"A logical precaution."

That was how Hoshi, Tatiana, and Trip ended up scouting around for a better shelter. Malcolm, Travis, and T'Pol were gathering food, because they decided more could be accomplished by breaking into two groups. No cover was available around where they had arrived, so the trio wandered into the woods. It was only after an unsuccessful morning that Tatiana came up with the idea of living in a tree.

"If we could make a floor near the top, I suspect we would be protected from most predators."

"It's worth lookin' into," said Trip, and he started up a large tree they'd just walked past. Hoshi and Tatiana watched him disappear into the leaves.

"It's perfect!" Hearing this, the two women came to the same conclusion.

"We're coming up!" When they broke through the leaves they saw why it was perfect. The tree trunk ended abruptly and left a flat circle probably five meters across. It would be rather tight for six people, but Hoshi had seen a similar-looking tree a few meters ahead and thought that they could easily split into two groups again.

The branches rose from the side of the trunk to make a green dome. Tatiana scrambled up and discovered that there was enough room for her head. "It is perfect."

"What a good idea!"

Settled in the women's tree that night, Hoshi concluded that she'd never been so lucky on an away mission gone awry before.

                                         ************

Two noncorporeal beings were celebrating their success. The First thought to the second, We were successful. We appeared in that plane of existence. The Second thought to the First in return, Yet when we returned here we displaced the biological entities that were in our path. The First felt sorrow for the effect of their experiment. Which plane are they in? it thought to the Second. They are displaced within their own plane. For us to fix this is not possible. They must reverse it by their own efforts, or not at all. The First knew then that the experiment could not be repeated. The danger was too great.

                                            *************

It had been, by Tatiana's fastidious count, nine days since their arrival on the planet before they were relatively settled. She and Malcolm now had a general knowledge of the area that satisfied them as well as a trusty weapon apiece. After much searching they had discovered rocks that, through much hard, backbreaking work, could be formed into spearheads. These were lashed with a strong root onto a straight stick. They had agreed that the other four should also have a weapon, but for now either Malcolm or Tatiana guarded expeditions. T'Pol had initially argued that it was more efficient to split into three groups of two, but had eventually acquiesced after Trip pleaded for the cause of caution.

Thus, they passed their days in a routine. Malcolm, Trip, and T'Pol gathered items that could be made into tools and containers. Malcolm wanted to start right in on another spearhead, but had been cajoled into working on a knife instead by the combined efforts of Trip's persistence and T'Pol's logic. It was slow going, because he insisted on making the sharpest knife possible, but working on weaponry made him feel useful so he was, as much as one could be in the situation, content. Trip had started constructing a fire pit, although they hadn't needed one for heat yet due to fortunately warm temperatures. It was actually a bit hot, but all the same he wanted to be able to cook. As much as T'Pol would dislike it, meat was rapidly becoming necessary. The berries and water were taking their toll in sluggishness all around. By the ninth day he had finished the pit and spent that entire afternoon trying to start a fire, muttering curses. Meanwhile, T'Pol had finished her first basket and had begun weaving another. Well, Trip wasn't entirely sure if it was a basket, because it didn't have handles and every basket he had ever seen had handles. Either way, he hoped that soon they might have something to put in them other than berries, because he was getting sick of them. However, Hoshi, Travis, and Tatiana were able to bring back more berries once she gave them a basket.

"Hallelujah!"

"I assume that you have successfully started a fire," she said without looking up from the bottom of her second basket.

"Look at 'er go!" he looked around, eyes finally resting on Malcolm's spear. "Can I borrow that?"

"And what do you think I'll use for defense, a half-finished knife?"

"The fire, of course. C'mon, I can't go huntin' without a weapon."

"You shouldn't go alone."

"I won't go far. There are plenty a' lil rabbit things around 'ere."

With a long sigh, Malcolm handed over his precious spear, and Trip trotted off to hunt. It occurred to Malcolm that perhaps the southern drawl increases with fatigue.

"What do you think of that?" Malcolm, feeling somewhat naked without his spear, asked T'Pol.

"It is barbaric; however I believe it is necessary. We require protein to sustain activity. The past four days I have noticed that Ensigns Sato and Silina slept for half an hour longer than they previously did. When they are awake, they are not alert as they once were. Today I have begun to feel the strain on my body. I will partake in any meal Commander Tucker manages to catch."

He nodded. "Very logical."

With this, they went back to work. Several minutes later, the other three came into view. Travis was holding what appeared to be a rock. Tatiana had her spear in one hand and a head-sized blue sphere in the other. Hoshi cradled the basket of small peach-colored berries in her arms. (Travis observed that they tasted like a cross between grapefruit and apples, which wasn't great tasting but was food.) As they came closer, it looked like Travis was about to drop the rock any minute. He didn't until they were close to the fire pit.

"We found a bowl," he panted. "A really heavy bowl."

"Travis has been carrying it for an hour." Malcolm thought that he detected a half-disguised note of admiration in Tatiana's voice. "We found a coconut or something. The chvetka-birds like them. This was the only one that had not been pecked to death."

"The what?" Malcolm guessed that this probably meant something in Russian.

"Flower-birds. They're gorgeous, Malcolm, and when they spread their wings it's like a flower blooming," supplied Hoshi.

"Ah." He nodded approval of this. "Well, Trip is off rabbit-hunting. He plans on eating roast rabbit tonight." Three days ago they'd agreed to use first names, except for T'Pol who still addressed everyone by rank.

"Good! I am going to disappear to nothing without meat." Tatiana looked at the fire approvingly.

Just then Trip appeared with his catch. T'Pol raised her eyebrow higher than he'd ever seen it, but said nothing. "It's a little fella, but I figure we'd better start small and get used to real food again." Carefully wielding the tip of the spear, he went off to a side and began gutting his catch.

All remains after each of them had eaten their meager portion of meat, included a somewhat disdainful T'Pol, he went off to bury the remains and bones. Tatiana stopped him from throwing in the hide. "I will scrape it and keep it. We may need it at some point."

T'Pol looked as close to nauseous as a Vulcan could get. "Uh, maybe I'll take care of it," Trip amended.

"Thank you. I will adapt in time, if necessary." She thought, rather wistfully by human standards, of her meditation candles. Vulcans did not eat meat, but she just had out of necessity, and felt a great need to make peace with the tumult of illogic in her mind.

"Here's hoping it won't be," said Travis, who toasted Tatiana with a berry.

                                    **************

Hoshi woke up to sweltering heat and Tatiana making another mark on a slab of bark she tallied days on; three groups and then today's new one. It was bath day, which was great fun. They only bathed every third day, much to T'Pol's displeasure. Really, though, they all would've liked to go down to the lake more often. The problem was that they had far too much to do. On bath days the men went first, because as Trip put it, "I could take three baths in the time it takes ya for one!"

When everyone was awake they walked to the stream for a drink. This stream ran quite close to their tree houses- it was maybe ten meters away. Once the berries were eaten, Trip, Malcolm (spear in hand), and Travis went off to the lake. It was a kilometer or so away, so they'd be gone a little while. Meanwhile in the clearing near their trees, T'Pol, having completed three baskets (she had become a proficient weaver), began to weave a sleeping mat. Hoshi had set out some berries on a stone in the sun to dry, in case winter came upon them, and was guarding them from the birds. Tatiana was chipping a rock into a scraper for any further animal hides they might get.

Currently it seemed that Trip's first rabbit was beginner's luck, but two days previous he had found a tortoise of some sort. The shell had proved to be fire-resistant and an excellent, if somewhat small, cooking pot. They never seemed to have a great deal of meat to put in it anyway. Boiled tortoise was stringy meat that wasn't very enjoyable, but even T'Pol ate it. She had meditated for an extra long time that night.

"Out here, in this natural environment, I believe it is easy to rethink my previous religious beliefs."

"Ensign, I was not aware you had any religious beliefs." T'Pol never looked up from her mat, as was her custom.

"I don't. Or at least, I didn't. Now I think I could've been wrong. At home and on Enterprise, I was sure that I was right. Maybe I wasn't." Tatiana sounded genuinely confused.

"I know what you mean." Hoshi swung her arms up at an incoming bird, then looked to her friend. "It's hard to explain, but I know what you mean. We're surrounded by nature now, and I never was before."

"Vulcans do not have any religious beliefs. I maintain that position."

"Well, to each her own." That was a rather strained conversation since T'Pol obviously thought they were nuts, and each woman went back to work.

"I have another problem," said Tatiana suddenly, after some time. "I find myself attracted to Travis."

There was no reply from T'Pol, but Hoshi spoke up. "How's that a problem? Weren't you two flirting back on Enterprise?"

Although Hoshi had brought up a subject that had, after the first few days, become taboo by unspoken agreement, Tatiana didn't look surprised. "This is different. It is serious."

"Does he feel the same way?"

"I suspect so."

"You should talk to him about it. If…" she trailed off, leaving the implications of a long-term stay on the planet unspoken. "You two would make a good couple."

"T'Pol?" queried Tatiana, as though asking for permission. Which, though not directly, she was.

"This is the human way?" she asked, more of Hoshi than Tatiana.

"Yes."

"Humans do not fare well when they suppress their emotions. However, I would advise you to proceed with caution for the sake of your professional relationship with Ensign Mayweather."

Tatiana nodded and silence once again came over the group.

                                     *************

Ensign Jenkins and Grolf had just said words that Jonathan Archer didn't think could possibly be true. "You mean these people, on Nerth, speak a form of English?"

"Did you ever speak pig Latin when you were younger, sir?"

"Yes," he frowned, not quite understanding where this was going.

"Pig Latin?" Obviously the UT hadn't found anything in Arian that was the equivalent.

"It's a sort of code children use on Earth, so they think that nobody else can understand them. Except that everyone knows what they're saying anyway."

"Thank you, Ensign."

"What does pig Latin have to do with this?"

"Well, Nerth is like a more complex version of pig Latin. Most of the words can be traced to an English root."

"Most, but not all?"

"There are some that I can't trace to an English word, but I think this is more than coincidence, sir."

Grolf added his opinion. "Once Ensign Jenkins pointed it out, what she had observed seemed obvious to me."

"Okay, so we have a language with an English root. What does that mean?"

The silence he got in response was disheartening.

                                  ***************

Tatiana felt her stomach twist as she saw T'Pol return from the fiber-gathering expedition with no new weaving materials and no Travis. She had and Hoshi were just about finished with dinner. The rabbit she'd caught was just about done roasting, and Hoshi had found grain that she carefully plucked, mashed to powder and declared flour. Most of it she was saving for winter, but in celebration of the accomplishment had made a small tortilla of sorts for each of them. Malcolm and Trip had returned from their latest mission to find objects that they could manipulate into tools, and had just sat down when T'Pol jogged into camp. That was unusual, because they usually avoided running. The planet was too hot for that, although she supposed T'Pol was better suited to it than any of them. Personally, Tatiana had grown up in the region of land that wasn't quite in Siberia, but was very close to it, and wasn't used to such heat.

"Where is Travis?"

"He is injured. A tree pinned him to the ground. I was unable to free him myself." Part of Tatiana wanted to scream, but she controlled herself. It wasn't T'Pol's fault, and it appeared that she left their spear with Travis.

"I will come with you."

"Tatiana, do you really think…" Malcolm began, but Hoshi made a small slicing motion with her hand and he left the rest of his question unasked. "I'll come too."

"Is it serious?"

"Ensign Mayweather believes he has suffered only a broken left ankle. However, he requested our haste."

"Of course."

"Trip and I will stay here," volunteered Hoshi. "We'll get ready to look at his injuries."

Trip looked like he would have preferred join the rescue attempt, but didn't say anything about it. "We'll keep the viddles warm, too."

T'Pol didn't even bother to raise an eyebrow.

When they came back, it was apparent that Travis had suffered several cuts and bruises in addition to his broken ankle. Trip had volunteered his undershirt to be used as a rag, and had also gathered sticks to make the best cast that could be made under the circumstances, silently cursing whatever it was that didn't even have the decency to leave them with a med kit, or even painkillers.

Hoshi had hot water ready when they came. She disliked the task ahead of her, but her aunt was a nurse, so she had a notion of what had to be done. The bone would have to be set, tied with sticks and ripped undershirts, and infection would have to be prevented. She was afraid, but couldn't let Travis –or Tatiana- see her fear.

He was a trooper, only hissing through the hot water she used to sterilize the wounds and trying desperately not to show how much pain he was in. Trip and Malcolm somehow got him up to their tree, and he stayed there until he could, though with a limp, walk around the camp and contribute again by cooking. Tatiana visited him for as much time as she could spare. Hoshi would stop by and tell him amusing anecdotes about mistranslations and some of the things her students said in the past, meaning to say something else altogether. T'Pol stopped by, never staying for long, but always making an appearance, telling him the various misadventures she encountered in her attempts to understand humans. A week after his injury she presented him with a blanket, carefully woven with an amazingly perfect circle made of darker fibers in the middle. Trip and Malcolm had teamed up to procure a hard, small piece of wood to carve and a chipped rock point, obviously of Malcolm's work. So when he felt useless, cooped up in the tree, he started carving a bear for Tatiana. It was finished two days after he could walk again.

They had found a new fruit and saved it to eat until he could sit by the fire and eat with them. T'Pol explained that she noticed a rodent chewing on a protruding tuber, and that alerted her to the presence of a possible food source. Tatiana thought that it tasted a bit too much like cabbage for her preference, but was so overjoyed to see Travis back that she didn't care.

"It'd be better if we had some ranch sauce," noted Trip.

"How can one extract a sauce from property devoted to raising livestock?" Travis smiled at T'Pol's comment, thinking how much he'd missed their lively conversation. It was good to be back.

                                  ***************

"Malcolm, when're ya gonna start takin' Hoshi out?"

Back in the shallow part of the lake, because for reasons he refused to disclose to anyone, Malcolm stubbornly went no further once the water reached his shoulders, Malcolm stopped scooping water up on to his head and looked at Trip, who was happily treading water. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Like hell ya don't!"

Travis called out, or rather up, since he was lazily enjoying a backfloat, "It's pretty obvious, Malcolm. She likes you too." Under Trip's tutelage he'd become a good, strong swimmer. Trip offered to teach Malcolm to swim, but Malcolm insisted that he knew how to swim and snapped shut like a clam. The subject hadn't been brought up again.

"It wouldn't be appropriate." He returned to scooping water onto his hair, which had grown disgracefully shaggy. For all his attempts, they didn't have anything with which to cut hair, or, more irritatingly, beards. Fortunately, he felt certain that he was on the verge of a small pair of scissors.

 "It's been two and a half months, Malcolm. You've waited a lot longer than Tatiana and I did."

"You have the same rank. It's different."

"Not really."

He wanted to change the subject in a most desperate manner, but part of him hoped that they were right. "I'm no good at relationships."

"You know as well as I do that Hoshi's special to ya."

Travis didn't say anything, opting to leave this difficult topic to Trip after all.

"Besides, with Travis and Tatiana moving into their own tree tomorrow, that would leave you and T'Pol to live together. It's a bad idea to have only one person in a tree."

"How's that a bad thing?"

"You've got to be kidding, Trip. T'Pol?"

"We've been talkin.'"

"And?" Travis decided to reenter the conversation.

"We got right to the point. "Realistic" she calls it. We could be down here a real long time. Maybe forever. At some point, we're all gonna need "companionship and sexual release.""

"I didn't think Vulcans…" It was a good thing he was used to floating in zero-g. It helped keep Travis from losing his backfloat, which was quite enjoyable.

Trip didn't elaborate. "The thing is, we're here. By some lucky break, there's three of us and three women. It's natural to partner off an' nobody expects you to be superhuman." Malcolm didn't respond. "It's also not fair ta Hoshi."

The last line did it. "I'll talk to her. But I will not repeat the conversation to you."

Trip and Travis started swimming to shore, the latter with a mildly disappointed look on his face.

"Just talk to 'er."

"I almost forgot to tell you! Tatia and I talked, and if we ever get back to the ship we're going to have Captain Archer marry us. That's why we're moving in together."

"Good for you, Travis!"

                                  **************

It had been five days, and he was going to have to send a report to Starfleet soon. So far he'd managed to keep the reports on strictly diplomatic topics, but there would be no avoiding a full report on the accident. Sciences had come up with a report on the streaks. They really didn't have anything useful in it, but it was time to acknowledge the reality. He had nothing to go on, not even a small lead to follow. His six officers –including his best friend- could be anywhere.

"Sickbay to Captain Archer." Dr. Phlox's voice broke through his disparaging.

"Archer here. What can I do for you, Doctor?"

"You may find this difficult to believe, but I have come up with a theory regarding the disappearance of Sub-Commander T'Pol, Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Ensigns Sato, Mayweather, and Silina. It would be best if you could come to Sickbay so I can explain it."

The full report could wait. "I'll be right there. Archer out."

                                 **************

It turned out that this planet didn't have a winter, just a rainy season. After three months of beautiful, if slightly hotter than desirable (to everyone except T'Pol) weather, it poured daily. In the afternoon there would be a couple of hours when it didn't rain, and after the first week Trip had come up with a strange waxy coating from plants, and a pair of turtles that he found, which he pasted over the sleeping mats T'Pol had made for all of them. Gallantly, he put this protective roof over T'Pol and Hoshi's heads first, and then it started to pour so he and Malcolm got wet all over again. Finally all three trees were protected, except near the side designated as a door. This meant that there were no sleeping mats (except Travis's blanket with the dark circle), because T'Pol's usual weaving materials were drenched. However, they were fairly dry so nobody found cause to complain.

By this time Malcolm had made a knife, complete with a woven scabbard made by T'Pol, for everyone. He also insisted that Hoshi and T'Pol keep a spear in their tree house. At some point he would move into a tree with Hoshi, but they were content for the moment to gather berries together during the afternoon breaks and talk. Travis spent the dry time with Tatiana, climbing fruit trees for the blue coconuts and some other fruit that was square and black but very sweet. There was nothing else that seemed to be ripe. T'Pol and Trip went hunting. It was unpleasant for T'Pol, but she was very good at finding animals. Then Trip took over and did the killing. "It is the most repulsive task I have ever undertaken, but it is imperative that I do this. Charles is able to slay creatures with accuracy, but his skills at locating them are lacking," she explained to Hoshi one evening.

Everyone had to do things that they considered repulsive. For Trip, the worst thing was sitting in the tree for hours on end. There was only so much that he could do up there, although he had undertaken an ambitious project with one of the two tiny turtle shells. T'Pol had taken one for a cup almost as soon as he thoroughly washed it, but the other he saved and spent the days etching. First he'd spent four days just making a tool sharp enough for detail work out of bone, and a slightly bigger one out of rock. He was etching an elaborate winding pattern on it and planned to present it to T'Pol when they moved in together. That could be a while, since Hoshi and Malcolm were taking things slowly, but he could wait. Even with his project, though, he was going stir-crazy. Not that Malcolm was doing much better. He'd made a dozen fish hooks out of bone so far. Everyone else assumed that the boredom was the worst thing for Malcolm, too, but Hoshi knew that he hated the lake more than anything else. He was probably the only person happy to go out in the rain and take his shower. Still, he went there to fish.

Fishing was a terrible thing, Hoshi thought. She and Malcolm went one afternoon and she felt horrible for the fish. It wasn't that she didn't like meat; she just didn't like to see her meals alive before she ate them. She'd eaten sushi and never thought a thing of it, but had never been forced to watch the transition from alive to meal. The first time she saw Malcolm hit a fish against a rock, she thought she might cry. It was better than making the creature suffocate, as Malcolm pointed out, but she felt horrible. Her dreams for a week had been plagued with images of dead fish eyes staring up at her accusingly. She didn't know how T'Pol did it, not even wanting to eat meat.

Tatiana was miserable when it rained for days on end. "It is as though the world is too sad to smile. It makes me sad as well." Travis brightened her days considerably, but she hated the rain, and doubted that she'd complain about the heat again. It was much preferable to the alternative.

As for Travis, he had to fight bouts of intense feelings of uselessness. Tatiana and Malcolm were needed for security. T'Pol's unique ingenuity had helped them immeasurably. Trip kept coming up with useful inventions. Hoshi, though they didn't need a linguist, kept moral up. When everyone was in a foul mood, she was the glue that bound them; her willingness to do what it took and nursing skills kept her always in demand. What could he offer? He could gather food. Sure. Anyone could do that. When he confessed this to Tatiana, she told him that by gathering food, he gave Trip the time to make things. He hadn't thought of it that way. "Besides," she said, "I love you. That has to count for something." He'd decided it counted for a lot more than anything else, but still wished that he was able to make stuff.

It rained for three months, and they'd been on the planet for half a year then.

                                     **************

We have displaced them in their own plane. Now they will be Beginners, thought the First to the Second. I fear we have greatly disrupted that plane. With this, the second moved its essence toward the vortex. Perhaps we should attempt to undo that which we have done. The First thought, No! We will cause only more danger. We must stay in those planes that we know. In order to preserve other planes, we must. Thus they resigned themselves to a thousand millennia of boredom before death took them, and they did it out of a small bit of respect and a great, looming fear.

                                     ****************

"Hoshi?"

"Come on up, Tatiana. We can have some good old-fashioned girl talk while the boys are off. This may be a men's fishing expedition, but I bet that they talk about women."

"I would expect no less. Should we invite T'Pol? I never know if I should try to include her or not."

"She's been looking forward to this all week, though she wouldn't admit it. It's probably very hard to meditate with Trip in the same room."

"She is using our first names now."

"I think we've all given up, and that's how she's showing it. I'm not sure if she knows any other way."

"Maybe it is good that we have lost hope. Now we can move forward to this new life."

"As long as Malcolm and I are together, I'll be fine."

"I feel the same way about Travis. Do you suppose that T'Pol and Trip are happy together?"

"I am content in my partnership with Charles, as is he." Hearing that voice, Tatiana turned a very deep shade of red.

"T'Pol, I, um…"

"I am familiar with the human custom of gossip, Tatiana." She finished climbing up at Hoshi's beckoning wave. "I find myself unable to meditate. Before I discuss the topic with Charles, I wish to gain the perspective of a human female. Two will be fine."

Tatiana was about to ask what was wrong, but decided to say nothing because that's what Hoshi was doing. T'Pol looked distinctively uncomfortable.

"I have finished the construction of my first garment."

"That's fortunate. All our uniforms are in bad shape, but yours is the worst." She hoped that wasn't out of place. She really should've let Hoshi be the first one to talk.

"Indeed. However, I have only made the bottom." She held up a skirt that Tatiana hadn't noticed before.

"That's beautiful, T'Pol. Mine is much less even." Hoshi held up a half-finished skirt of her own. The grasses T'Pol had suggested were working alright, but one side was at least a centimeter shorter than the other, and it didn't even reach down near her knees yet. Somehow, T'Pol had kept hers even all the way down to ankle-length. Hoshi didn't plan on going past knee-length.

"I can't weave at all, but I'm sewing the rabbit fur together. It's coming along, and I'm really glad I saved it."

"This garment will suffice. However, I was unable to form these fibers into pants. Charles will be most displeased when I tell him that the pants he is currently wearing are likely the last pair he will ever wear."

                                   *************

"Lieutenant Saheem has gone through the data we collected during the anomaly again at my request, Captain. She cannot draw any conclusions but tells me that she cannot rule out the possibility of time travel." Dr. Phlox looked like this was very significant. Archer frowned.

"Do you mean to tell me that it's not just a question of where my officers are, and now we have to worry about when?"

"Oh no, Captain. I am quite certain that I can answer the first question for you. It is the second that I cannot."

                                   ****************

"Tatiana, did you and Travis fight? I'm not trying to pry, but he seems very sullen." Hoshi muttered a curse under her breath in a language Tatiana didn't know and pulled out the last row of her weaving.

"He is angrier at himself than at me."

"Oh?"

"Travis did not like the idea of wearing a skirt. So I told him that I am not a seamstress and he is welcome to sew his own clothes."

"That's why he's been spending so much time in your tree, then."

"Yes. He is just as good at sewing as I am, but I am afraid that doesn't mean very much. At any rate, his is frustrated because he cannot make pants either."

Hoshi let out a small laugh. "How's his skirt coming?"

"The skirt, fine. Our supply of needles, not so well. I told him that the fish do not come out of the water with needles for bones after the third one he broke."

"Maybe T'Pol or I could teach him to weave."

"There is always next year." Planning for next year had lost its taboo. It had been a little over seven months since they'd mysteriously arrived on this planet. In that time, they had grown to accept their new lives.

"I tried to teach Malcolm."

"How did that go?"

"It failed miserably." She smiled at the memory. "I'm not great, but Malcolm was a disaster. We decided that he should just stick to braiding rope. It took a little practice, but he can do that now. He prefers to go hunting, or make knives-anything else, really."

Tatiana laughed. "It seems that the boys will have to get used to skirts."

Malcolm walked over to Hoshi and put his hand on her left shoulder. "I have a surprise for you."

"Will you excuse us, Tatiana?"

"Of course. I will talk to you later."

Walking the short distance over to their tree house, Hoshi looked at the man in front of her with admiration and love. She'd been attracted to Malcolm before, but on this planet their friendship turned into something much deeper. It was interesting how his presence could bring out the introvert in her, and hers the extrovert in him. It was amazing how intense her feelings for him were.

"I suppose I can't ask you to close your eyes," he commented.

"Don't even try." She pulled herself up over the second-to-last limb. "Oh, Malcolm, it's beautiful!"

"I thought that we could use a little privacy."

"So that's what you wanted all that rope for!" Hanging in front of her was a curtain of feathers. She wondered how he had plucked the feathers off all the birds they ate without her noticing. He'd probably enlisted Trip or Travis's help in hiding them. Now the feathers were hanging down, each and every one tied on to a braid of rope. In all, twelve braids hung in their doorway, each covered in feathers of all sorts of colors.

"This is amazing."

"I'm glad you like it. Come inside." He took her hand and led her into the tree. "We can't have an official marriage ceremony here, but I still wanted to give you a ring." Lying on his palm was a delicate ring, carved perfectly smooth out of bone. Around the band it said Forever My Love in delicately etched letters. Suddenly his careful attention to the fingers of her left hand made sense. He'd taken good mental notes, because the ring fit perfectly.

"Malcolm." Hoshi found that she simply didn't have words to express how she felt. "You're my universe." She hugged him with all her strength.

                             *****************

"This is the genetic structure of an individual from Nerth. It was included in the transmission sent to Aria, and they kindly sent it to me. A most considerate race."

"It's human." Archer's mind was racing.

"Almost. There are some components that I believe are Vulcan."

He sighed. "I supposed the genetic structure is one-sixth Vulcan." In some strange way, this was starting to make sense. In the back of his mind, he thought that this was going to be miserable to explain to the Vulcan High Command. He could hear T'Pol's voice in his head, saying the Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible.

"Not quite. I would consider it closer to one-seventh. Perhaps Sub-Commander T'Pol had fewer children than Ensigns Sato and Silina. Considering the genetic difference between humans and Vulcans, that is highly plausible."

"So you think that my officers are somewhere in the past on Nerth? Do you have any idea how far back in time they traveled?"

"It's difficult to guess, Captain, without knowing how many children were born in the first generation of their descendants."

"Can you give me a range?"

"Judging from the number of biosigns we detected on Nerth, I would say they cannot be less than two thousand years in the past." He thought for a moment, hit a couple of buttons on his computer console, and then the good doctor looked back at his highly agitated captain. "It is doubtful that they are more than nine thousand four hundred years in the past. I wish I could give you a smaller time frame."

"This has been very helpful, Doctor. If you come up with anything else, please let me know. In the meantime, I need to talk with Lieutenant Saheem."

"Of course, Captain."

While he was walking down the corridor, an idea hit his mind like the proverbial bolt of lightening. Nerth…New Earth! Why didn't I think of that? The answer was saddening. Because Hoshi would've.

                              *****************

"Malcolm, remember a few months ago when I told you that you're my universe?" They were picking berries on a beautiful, breezy day. He tasted the odd berry here and there, leading to a slightly redder tongue than usual.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, it's about to get a little bigger. In seven months." He looked confused, so she put a hand over her abdomen.

"You mean you're…we're going to be…a baby?" It took several seconds before he was able to speak, and even then the words didn't really form a sentence.

"Yes!"

"Wow." He looked stunned. She hadn't seen him look so out of it since he'd fallen when fighting that viscous bear creature. They'd decided to look at the sunset from the comfort of their tree after that adventure, although they got a nice bearskin blanket out of the whole ordeal. He still had a scar that ran down behind his ear from it. Seeing him fall, she thought that if she lost Malcolm she'd die.

"You're not happy." The pain in her voice was evident.

"Oh, Hosh, it's not that. I just thought of my father." He sat down, and she sat next to him. "I don't want to be like him."

"You won't be, Malcolm. I know that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know you. You're loving and kind; you're not your father."

He looked down at her stomach. "You have the most wonderful woman in the universe for a mother." Kissing that wonderful woman, he added. "And the luckiest man for your father."

Later, as they walked back with the berries, they talked about possible names for their baby. No decisions were made, but there was plenty of time.

"I'm going to start on a crib right away. Or maybe I should make a wall inside first. I can hardly believe it. I'm going to be a father!" Hoshi was relieved to see that, despite his initial (and probably still nagging) doubts, Malcolm was excitedly making plans for their child with as much joy as she felt. "Of course, I'll have to rig something up to get you in and out of the house. Maybe Trip will have an idea on exactly how." She looked at him menacingly. "You won't be able to climb very well in a couple of months, love."

He was right. "Huh. Well, you're the one who's going to have to feed me. There's no chocolate out here; it might get ugly," she teased.

"Maybe you'll crave rabbit instead. I can get rabbits."

She raised an eyebrow in a manner that would've made T'Pol proud. "You should be so lucky."

                                     ******************

Forrest had never heard such an insane story in his life, and the fact that it was probably true made it all the harder to believe. The evidence made sense, and there wasn't any other explanation that fit the facts. The inhabitants of the planet had human genes mixed with a bit of Vulcan. They spoke a language with its root in English, the only language all six officers shared in common. To top it all off, the planet was called Nerth, which sounded suspiciously like New Earth.

"So they're long dead." Although Phlox confirmed that all six had lived to produce children, citing genetic diversity and some other medical jargon that Forrest was at a loss to understand.

As hard as this was –he didn't even want to think about explaining this mess to the Vulcans- it had to be even harder on Archer. He had worked closely with the lost crew, had been close friends with them, and now suddenly they had been dead for some indeterminate period of time and their descendants populated a planet. It had to be a lot for the man to take.

"They're living their lives, Admiral. They're dead now, but sometime in the past they're alive and well." And happy, I hope, he thought. Please, make yourselves happy.

"Did you go to the planet? Obviously they're aware that other sentient life exists."

"No sir, we didn't. They don't have anything close to warp technology yet. The Arians are communicating with them, but we're not going to."

"I understand, Archer. Perhaps in a few years…"

"Maybe."

"Archer?"

"Admiral?"

"I'm sure that they're happy."

"I hope so, sir." You'd better be happy.

"I expect your report tomorrow morning. Do you want to contact the families?"

"I have to. For them."

"I'll delay the death-in-the-line-of-duty payments then. And Archer? I'm sorry. They were good officers, good people. Forrest out."

Make yourselves happy. Trip, I guess we'll never get to watch the latest Stanford-Harvard match. Dr. Phlox says there's no way he can tell who ended up together, but I've seen you and T'Pol. You are-you did- ah, hell, you two will be a good couple, even if it takes you a long time to realize it. You're both stubborn as mules, though. T'Pol, I know this won't be easy for you, but there's more logic in humans than you've yet to see, and there's more emotion in you than you realize. Look after Trip for me; he's the best buddy a guy could want. Malcolm, I'm sure that you've already come up with weapons, whenever you are in your time. I know that you'll keep protecting them, and I'm glad. But Malcolm, don't forget to make the most of your life. You and Hoshi have something special, and since I dragged her out here I'm glad that you're with her now. Because the two of you belong together. Even T'Pol saw it. Oh, Hoshi, I'm sorry that I ever brought you out here, but I just know that you're finding joy in your new home. You're so good at that, finding joy and beauty when nobody else sees it. Bring out the joy, and make sure Malcolm sees it too. Travis, you're so young and energetic. That's why I picked you. Did I ever tell you that? I was impressed by your energy and spirit. I can see you and Silina-Tatiana- together. Keep that spirit.  I wish that I knew you better, Tatiana Silina, but I know that you're a fine officer and a good woman. So the six of you make a happy community. Consider that your last order from your old captain.

Stepping out of his ready room, he gave the surprisingly painful command to take the ship away from the planet that he couldn't bear to visit. "Turn us around, Ensign. We're headed to Earth. Warp 3.5."

                                  ***************

Malcolm reflected as he watched the rise and fall of Hoshi's chest while she slept. It had been a bloody good week on New Earth, as she called the planet. Lizzie had said her first word, which was "Dada," much to his pleasure. They'd decided to name their daughter in memory of Elizabeth Cutler, whose death had haunted the Enterprise crew before the anomaly, a lifetime ago. Much to Malcolm's relief, he turned out to be nothing like his own father, as Hoshi had known all along. Just two days before that special word, Tatiana gave birth to a healthy boy who she and Travis named Alexander. Trip and T'Pol were mysterious and evasive about their chances of having a child, although for some inexplicable reason Trip had muttered something about two years. He refused to elaborate, so Malcolm decided not to press the issue. However, Trip went on to excitedly mention a private Vulcan bonding ritual that apparently didn't require anyone to officiate, so things were going well in the farthest tree to the right. Just when things couldn't get any better, he perfected the arrowhead he'd crafted out of shells from Hoshi's latest discovery, freshwater oysters. Now he had a weapon with a better range to protect his family.

Hoshi was sleeping peacefully, murmuring "Malcolm est ma cherie!" Hmm, a snippet of language he could understand, for once. Lizzie was contentedly sucking her thumb as she slept. A cool night breeze rustled the roof-leaves. He'd never imagined a life like this, but found that he was very happy. Putting an arm protectively around Hoshi's shoulder, he drifted off to sleep.

                              ******************

Travis had been very nervous when Alexander was born three years ago last week, and got butterflies remembering that last night Tatiana said that she thought that she was a month pregnant, but Trip had easily beaten both he and Malcolm in the nervous new father department, and T'Pol hadn't even given birth yet. Malcolm and Hoshi were the veteran parents, having two daughters, and Travis hadn't feared that Malcolm would go crazy from impatience either time. Trip, on the other hand, had already been coolly banished from his house by T'Pol. "Charles," she'd said, "I doubt that our child will be born before dark. If you must pace, will you please do it outside?"

So Trip had resorted to wearing a path around the trunk at a dizzying pace. Hoshi was up in the tree with T'Pol, Tatiana was simultaneously keeping a good supply of water warm and making a turtle stew for dinner. Travis was watching Alexander, who was at the moment happily playing with the stuffed rabbit that had been his birthday present from Hoshi and Malcolm, and trying to calm Trip down. Malcolm was showing Lizzie how to carve, or rather compress, soft wood with a very dull rock while her ten-month-old sister Madeline napped in a cradle at his side. T'Pol's reserve had so far kept the day uneventful, which Travis privately thought was a very good thing; if Trip had to hear her scream, or any other indication that she was in pain, he might insist on staying in the tree with her.

"Lizzie, do you want to play with Alexander for a little while?"

"Is it okay, Daddy?"

"That's fine, sweetie." Inwardly Travis smiled. When he first joined Enterprise he had never expected to hear Malcolm Reed say the word "sweetie." Things had gone much differently than he ever expected, but Travis was a happy man. They were all happy.

"I'll watch Lizzie and Madeline. Why don't you take him hunting, or fishing, or anywhere else?"

"Are you sure you can watch the three of them?"

Tatiana spoke up. "I can help him. Take Trip out of here!"

They had to have been gone an hour, but it didn't seem like nearly long enough. Trip had a pair of rabbits in his hand, while Malcolm had found one of the tasty fox-like creatures with black spotted green fur and a large squirrel. The expedition seemed to calm Trip a little, and he talked to Malcolm while they skinned their catches and started up the tiny smokehouse.

"Trip."

Instantaneously he was climbing up his tree. "We're not ready for you yet, but T'Pol thought that you'd want to know. We think she's having twins." Then Hoshi's face was gone and Trip, looking very dazed, sat down next to Travis.

"Twins?"

"That's what she said. Congratulations!"

Meanwhile, up in the tree, T'Pol and Hoshi were discussing the ramifications of this. "It explains the chaos of emotions that I sensed. The level of chaos was greater than I believed to be normal, but I attributed it to the child being half human."

"I suspected before, but didn't want to get your hopes up." T'Pol did not bother to argue that Vulcans do not get their hopes up. Where her child, now children, were concerned, she would have. "But now I'm almost certain."

"I presume that Charles is unable to form a coherent sentence at this time." She would have liked to see that, but her mate's frantic pacing strained her already challenged control.

"I bet, but Malcolm and Travis will help him get over that."

"Then they will not be able to prevent him from talking ceaselessly."

"He's probably already started on the second cradle." After a moment, her curiosity got the better of her. "Do Vulcans have twins? I haven't ever heard of it."

"It is a rare occurrence, but not unheard of. I am gratified; the odds against human-Vulcan conception are great. I doubt that Charles and I will have any more children."

"You never know, T'Pol. You've already beaten the odds twice."

"Perhaps." She flinched. "I believe that my offspring have decided to 'enter the world' earlier than I estimated."

"Do you want me to get Trip?"

"I believe the saying is, "'wild horses couldn't keep him away.'"

Tatiana couldn't believe it when she heard a newborn's cry. T'Pol hadn't screamed once! "A boy!" That was Trip. "Right, water." He appeared in the doorway. "We're ready for the water!" Tatiana loaded it in the basket and Trip pulled it up to the tree, then disappeared.

Baby Jonathan was washed and had been dozing in his father's arms for an hour before his sister was born. When both children had been fed and were in their cradle (which was a tight fit, and Trip vowed to finish the second one tomorrow if it took from dawn to dusk), Hoshi shooed Malcolm, Travis, Tatiana away, saying that T'Pol needed her rest and so did Trip, even if he didn't know it yet. Malcolm and Travis shared a smile at that.

"We don't even get to know their names?" said Travis disappointedly. "They wouldn't tell."

"Well, it's not my place to tell."

"You know?!" Malcolm looked at Travis, trying to warn him that Hoshi wouldn't tell. He knew better than to attempt, but Travis didn't. She told him that Trip and T'Pol would tell them, and set her daughters in the basket to raise them up to bed. Malcolm grabbed a bowl of stew for Hoshi before following her up.

Trip poked his head out and gleefully called out "Make sure ya'll come see little Jonathan and T'Mir tomorrow!" Hoshi's sensitive ears picked up T'Pol admonishing him that he might wake the children. Trip had practically glowed as he watched his children be put to bed for the first time. The amazing thing about that look, she mused as Malcolm tucked Lizzie and Maddie in, was that it never faded.

She ate the stew gratefully, then, seeing her daughters sleeping comfortably, pulled the bearskin blanket over herself and Malcolm. It had been a long and tiring day, but an amazing one.

"Malcolm."

"Yes, love?"

"I'm glad we're stranded here."

"I wouldn't trade this for anything."

"Gorws bexso falpv." Every night, she told him that she loved him in a different language. Over the years she'd started to repeat them, but it didn't matter to Malcolm. He found it to be a most endearing ritual, the foreign nature of the words not able to hide the depth of meaning she put into them.

"Forever, Hoshi." His last thought before going to sleep, arms around her waist, was that he was glad Trip and T'Pol finally had a family so they, like Malcolm, Hoshi, Tatiana, and Travis, could know the joys of parenthood. This life, one he'd never dreamed of, was more rewarding than he'd ever dare hope his life could be.