Chapter 1
Bad News
Beep. Beep.
Through the fogginess of sleep the annoying noise began to do it's intended task of waking the occupant.
Captain Archer rolled onto his back, bringing a hand up to his forehead and scrubbing his hair roughly, in a desperate attempt at alertness. He dropped his other hand onto the comm. switch.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to wake you Captain, but I need to see you in sickbay right away." The overly cheerful voice of the good doctor floated through the speakers.
Archer debated asking if this could wait till morning but as his mind wound up to operational status it occurred to him that the 'right away' probably meant it was important. That and the fact that Dr. Phlox had woken him up from a dead sleep. Sleep he had prescribed for the entire away team. It had been a mission with one misstep after another and resulting in a lack of rest for almost 72 hours straight.
"Ah, Captain?" Phlox enquired.
Groaning, Archer pushed his lanky frame up against the headrest, "Yeah Phlox, I'll be right there."
He gave the comm. button a punch and reluctantly tossed the covers to the side. Crap.
Archer strode into sickbay, the doors politely swishing shut behind him. He scanned the room and noticed three of the beds bore occupants. Cutler, Robbins and Sweet. He didn't have a medical degree but they looked miserable. Cutler was clutching a basin, Robbins was huddled underneath a blanket and Sweet was gripping the edges of the biobed, his face pallid and clammy. Archer took a step back, inwardly cringing. He didn't do sick.
"I wouldn't worry Captain...I'm afraid the damage is all ready done." Phlox appeared around a screen. His usual smile crooking the edges of his mouth upward.
"Damage?" Archer maintained his distance.
Phlox sighed. He had been dreading this moment from the time he realized what had happened. He waved Captain Archer to the other side of the room, away from the ill crewmen. He mentally noted Archer's fatigue-lined face and rumpled appearance. "I'm afraid we've got a bit of a situation Captain."
"Spit it out Phlox, what's going on?" Archer leaned against an empty biobed.
"Do you recall the shipment we picked up on Relas V?" Phlox asked.
Archer did recall, vividly. Phlox had requested a small menagerie of herbs, animals and other assorted supplies. Restocking his stores he had explained. T'Pol had located the majority of the items on a small trading planet within a days travel at warp 3, Relas V. That had been five days ago, before the disastrous away mission.
"I remember." He replied.
Phlox tugged at his collar, "ummm, it appears that the Venissian mice carried a virus onboard."
"What?" Archer stood up straight, "Don't we have procedures to prevent this?"
"Well, yes...but Captain, nothing is perfect. I'm afraid the mice were in the early stages of the virus. It was virtually undetectable." Phlox wished he was undetectable at this moment. Captain Archer had fixed him with a glare that would wilt mountains.
"Am I to assume this is why three of my crewmen are...gracing...your sickbay?"
Denobulans were a hard race to rattle but Captain Archer could be an intimidating man when he was upset. Phlox rather wished that he had gotten more sleep before having to drop this on him. At the very least he would've been more tolerant...he hoped.
"I'm afraid so."
Archer stood up and began pacing, his mind processing the information and considering implications. Ship wide contagions were a nightmare. At the least they could be an annoying setback, at the worst they could decimate an entire crew. He assumed from Phlox's guilty demeanor that this would be the annoying category. He wasn't behaving as if death was around the corner.
"What do we need to do?"
Beep. Beep.
Through the fogginess of sleep the annoying noise began to do it's intended task of waking the occupant.
Captain Archer rolled onto his back, bringing a hand up to his forehead and scrubbing his hair roughly, in a desperate attempt at alertness. He dropped his other hand onto the comm. switch.
"Yes?"
"I'm sorry to wake you Captain, but I need to see you in sickbay right away." The overly cheerful voice of the good doctor floated through the speakers.
Archer debated asking if this could wait till morning but as his mind wound up to operational status it occurred to him that the 'right away' probably meant it was important. That and the fact that Dr. Phlox had woken him up from a dead sleep. Sleep he had prescribed for the entire away team. It had been a mission with one misstep after another and resulting in a lack of rest for almost 72 hours straight.
"Ah, Captain?" Phlox enquired.
Groaning, Archer pushed his lanky frame up against the headrest, "Yeah Phlox, I'll be right there."
He gave the comm. button a punch and reluctantly tossed the covers to the side. Crap.
Archer strode into sickbay, the doors politely swishing shut behind him. He scanned the room and noticed three of the beds bore occupants. Cutler, Robbins and Sweet. He didn't have a medical degree but they looked miserable. Cutler was clutching a basin, Robbins was huddled underneath a blanket and Sweet was gripping the edges of the biobed, his face pallid and clammy. Archer took a step back, inwardly cringing. He didn't do sick.
"I wouldn't worry Captain...I'm afraid the damage is all ready done." Phlox appeared around a screen. His usual smile crooking the edges of his mouth upward.
"Damage?" Archer maintained his distance.
Phlox sighed. He had been dreading this moment from the time he realized what had happened. He waved Captain Archer to the other side of the room, away from the ill crewmen. He mentally noted Archer's fatigue-lined face and rumpled appearance. "I'm afraid we've got a bit of a situation Captain."
"Spit it out Phlox, what's going on?" Archer leaned against an empty biobed.
"Do you recall the shipment we picked up on Relas V?" Phlox asked.
Archer did recall, vividly. Phlox had requested a small menagerie of herbs, animals and other assorted supplies. Restocking his stores he had explained. T'Pol had located the majority of the items on a small trading planet within a days travel at warp 3, Relas V. That had been five days ago, before the disastrous away mission.
"I remember." He replied.
Phlox tugged at his collar, "ummm, it appears that the Venissian mice carried a virus onboard."
"What?" Archer stood up straight, "Don't we have procedures to prevent this?"
"Well, yes...but Captain, nothing is perfect. I'm afraid the mice were in the early stages of the virus. It was virtually undetectable." Phlox wished he was undetectable at this moment. Captain Archer had fixed him with a glare that would wilt mountains.
"Am I to assume this is why three of my crewmen are...gracing...your sickbay?"
Denobulans were a hard race to rattle but Captain Archer could be an intimidating man when he was upset. Phlox rather wished that he had gotten more sleep before having to drop this on him. At the very least he would've been more tolerant...he hoped.
"I'm afraid so."
Archer stood up and began pacing, his mind processing the information and considering implications. Ship wide contagions were a nightmare. At the least they could be an annoying setback, at the worst they could decimate an entire crew. He assumed from Phlox's guilty demeanor that this would be the annoying category. He wasn't behaving as if death was around the corner.
"What do we need to do?"