Chapter Two



Phlox dimmed the lights in sickbay so his remaining two patients could sleep. Both crewmen were well on their way to a complete recovery and Phlox felt a sense of relief at that knowledge. He still had a few patients he'd released to quarters, but for the most part, Enterprise's brave crew had recovered physically from their horrific experiences.

He moved quietly into his quarters just off the main 'bay and sat down. "Computer, begin recording," he instructed. He heard the responding bleep then leaned back in his chair. "Dear Dr. Lucas," he began. He paused, wondering if Dr. Lucas even existed in the current time line.

Phlox shrugged. "Dear Dr. Lucas," he continued. "As you have no doubt heard, the faithful crew of Enterprise succeeded in their mission to destroy the Xindi weapon. To say I'm proud to know these people is probably the greatest understatement I could ever utter. In my eyes, they are quite simply heroes, every one of them."

"I suppose history will consider me a hero as well, although I don't feel like one. Lives were lost and I know I will carry each loss with me to my grave. I also compromised my ethics on more than one occasion. Oh, I know the human saying 'the ends justify the means', but it doesn't make living with those means any easier."

Phlox sat forward. "Current circumstances have not allowed my friends to feel the full impact of those means yet, and I fear for them when they do. I will be here for them, though, Doctor. I promise you that. I am a member of this crew, this family, so to speak. I will not abandon them."

The Denobulan sighed. "Computer, end recording." He looked at the floor at his feet, unable to continue. He'd been relieved when he'd heard that Captain Archer had survived the weapon's destruction, but that relief had been quickly replaced by fear when he'd learned that the captain, as well as T'Pol and the commander, had been swept away by the enigmatic Crewman Daniels. He did not fear that his friends would fail in their new mission. On the contrary, he was certain that they would succeed just as they had in the Expanse. His fear was that all three would not be returning.

Phlox stood as he heard the sickbay doors open. As he left his quarters to see to his visitor, he wondered if perhaps those he held most dear had finally tempted fate once too often.



T'Pol peered around the tree at the little house. "It appears to be abandoned," she said softly.

"Looks like it's taken some damage," replied Trip. He moved up close behind her. "There's scorching on the north wall." He pointed. "And the windows are broken, see there?"

The commander's breath blew warm against T'Pol's ear as he spoke. Ignoring the responding shiver, she followed his pointing finger to see the shattered glass still hanging in the window frames.

"I'm not sure we're going to find any clothes in there," Trip continued.

"We're running out of time," replied T'Pol. "And there appear to be no other dwellings in the vicinity."

"Well, let's have a look then."

T'Pol put her arm out to stop Trip, her ears picking up a slight rustling in the forest. "Someone's coming," she breathed. She took his arm and pulled him down quickly to crouch beside her. Almost afraid to breathe, T'Pol listened to the distant voices. From the bits and pieces of the conversation she could hear, she knew they'd been seen.

"What're they saying?" whispered Trip, his face mere centimeters from her own.

"They know we're in the area," T'Pol replied. She tipped her head, listening intently. "They've seen your uniform before."

"The cap'n."

T'Pol nodded then motioned him to follow her. She stayed low and out of the Germans' line of sight as she lead the commander through the underbrush. She stopped when she heard the snapping of a twig nearby and felt Trip's hand on her arm. He'd heard it, too.

The soldiers were close, so close that T'Pol could smell their stale sweat and hear their labored breathing. She peered through the thick foliage toward the little house. She could see two soldiers walking around it then watched as they shrugged at an unseen companion.

Trip's hand tightened on her arm. She turned to see the muzzle of a rifle pressed to the base of his skull.

"Move slowly," directed the soldier.

"Commander," began T'Pol.

"You---shut up!" ordered the German. "Now you---I told you to move."

"Okay, okay," replied Trip slowly. "Do you speak English?" He started to turn his head.

The soldier twisted his rifle around in his hands and brought the butt of it down hard across the side of Trip's face. As the engineer fell forward, T'Pol moved. She swept her leg out and caught the German off guard, toppling him. T'Pol quickly hauled Trip to his feet and forcefully pulled him through the woods until he was able to find his bearings. She could hear shouting behind her as the soldier called to his comrades for assistance.



"What do you mean, it won't work?" demanded Malcolm angrily.

Daniels shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant," he replied. "Your phase pistols just don't have enough power to kill him."

"So just what do you suggest we do now?"

"I don't know, sir."

Malcolm snorted derisively. "You don't know? My captain, first officer, and chief engineer are all down there counting on us to get them this weapon! You bloody well better come up with something, Crewman. I'm not about to let them die and I'm sure as hell not going to let this being succeed in his mission."

Daniels stared down at the phase pistol then picked it up and looked at the exposed circuitry.

"Well?" prompted Malcolm.

"The MACOs," began Daniels. "They use pulse rifles, don't they?"

"Yes."

Daniels smiled. "I've got an idea, Lieutenant."



Jon opened his eyes. He hadn't been dreaming. He was still lying on an old rickety cot under the cover of a hospital tent surrounded by injured soldiers.

"How are you feeling?" asked the same nurse from that morning.

Jon simply nodded then took the glass of water she offered him. He sipped it then frowned.

"Our water not up to your American standards?"

The captain sipped again. "No, it's fine, thank you," he replied. "What is your name?"

"Leyna."

Jon gave her back the glass then sat up. "Well, Leyna, my name is Jonathan Archer and I need to get out of here. I don't belong here."

Leyna smiled sadly. "None of us belong here, Mr. Archer," she replied.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. But you, Mr. Archer, are a prisoner of war now. You are not going anywhere."

Jon met Leyna's eyes. She was young like Hoshi, but her eyes were so much older. She'd seen the horrors of war first hand. He wondered briefly what she'd been like before all the death and destruction had changed her world.

"Commander Wilhelm will be here soon to talk with you," continued Leyna. "I suggest you not aggravate him. His ways are different than our own."

"What do you mean, different?"

"You will understand when you meet him," replied Leyna. She stepped closer and looked intently at the burns on Jon's face. "There does not seem to be any signs of infection," she said. "That is a constant concern out here. As you can see, it is hard to keep things sanitary."

"Thank you for taking care of me."

"I am just doing my job, Mr. Archer. Do not make the mistake of believing there is more to it than that," said Leyna briskly. She turned and moved across the tent to a soldier who'd been moaning in pain.

Jon swung his legs over the edge of his cot and sat forward, his elbows on his thighs. He knew something had gone wrong. Whenever Daniels had pulled him from his present in the past, the crewman always had made contact. Something had gone terribly wrong.

The captain scrubbed his fingers through his hair then took a nonchalant look around. Two armed soldiers stood just outside the tent's flap eliminating that as a possible route of escape. Jon's eyes moved along the lower edge of the tent. If he could get his hands on a scalpel, he thought maybe he'd be able to cut through the thick fabric, but he'd have to get a scalpel first. The only doctor in the hospital he'd seen carried his medical instruments with him in a bag.

Jon turned his head as the flap to the tent opened. He gasped audibly at the sight of the officer who stepped into the room.

"Captain Archer," greeted the alien, his red eyes glowing. "I am Commander Egmont Wilhelm."

Jon swallowed. "You know me?" he asked.

Wilhelm chuckled. "Of course I do, Captain. You're here to stop me."

"Stop you?"

"You don't know? Now just how can that be?" asked Wilhelm with a light- heartedness that gave Jon chills. He stepped over to the captain's cot and looked down at him. "Perhaps those who sent you here realized the folly of their plan. You are a fragile species, after all, and so gullible." He ran a grey, knotty hand along the wall of the tent. "Take this Hitler, for example. All I had to do was foretell a random attack by the Red Army, and now he's putty in my hand. I can do anything I want."

"And what exactly is that?"

The alien laughed. "You really are in the dark, aren't you, Captain?"

Jon remained silent, his eyes fixed on the powerful alien before him.

Wilhelm dropped his hand from the tent wall and looked at Jon pointedly. "I am here to set things straight, Captain. To insure that the presence of the Expanse in the future is guaranteed." He grabbed Jon's hair and yanked his head back brutally. "And I will not fail," he added, moving in so close that Jon could smell his rancid breath. "I will not fail."



Trip barreled after T'Pol, her hand still firmly gripping his wrist. A bullet hit a tree next to Trip's head and he shielded his face instinctively from the flurry of bark that sprayed over him. He still felt light-headed, but the world around him at least seemed to be level and not skewed any longer.

"Are you all right?" asked T'Pol without turning.

"I---I think so," replied Trip as he plowed through the low-growing foliage on the forest floor.

"Over here," directed the sub-commander. She led Trip deeper into the center of the woods and soon the shooting stopped.

When T'Pol fell, Trip was caught by surprise and he dove over her, landing hard on his chest. He shook his head then pushed himself up, turning to look at his fallen companion. T'Pol was gripping her ankle, her brow furrowed in pain.

"Hey," said Trip as he crawled over to her. He gingerly felt her ankle. "I think it's broken," he whispered.

T'Pol gasped. "I believe your assessment is correct," she replied. "I can not continue."

Trip looked around. In the distance, he could hear the soldiers crashing through the forest, their angry voices echoing throughout the trees. He stood then knelt to pick up T'Pol.

"You must leave me," said the Vulcan.

"No way."

"Commander----Trip, I will only slow you down."

Trip looked at the woman in his arms. "I said no way," he repeated curtly. He turned to look behind them, then proceeded forward.

"They are getting closer," whispered T'Pol.

"Damn it," cursed Trip. He moved quickly to a thicket then lowered T'Pol behind it. "Can you slide under here?"

T'Pol nodded. "I believe this will give adequate cover," she replied. "There isn't room for you, however."

Trip smiled. "I'm going to lead them away from you."

"Commander----."

The engineer put up a hand. "I'll circle back around, T'Pol," he explained.

"I don't think we should separate."

"A minute ago, you wanted me to leave you. Now you don't?"

T'Pol looked away. "A minute ago you were not endangering your life unnecessarily."

Trip turned his head as he heard the soldiers shouting. "I gotta go, T'Pol," he whispered hurriedly. "I'll be back for you." He began to stand, but stopped when a hand grabbed his arm. He held T'Pol's eyes for a long moment then he patted her hand gently. "I'll be back for you," he repeated softly. "Now stay put."

"You told me you'd be there for me---when this was over. Do you remember?"

Trip nodded. "And I will be----I promise you that. Now I gotta go."

T'Pol held his arm firmly. "You have never broken your promises, Commander."

The engineer removed her hand, but held it tightly in his. "And I'm not going to start now," he replied. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissed it quickly then stood. "I'll see you soon."

And then he ran.



As much as she wanted to follow Trip, T'Pol knew that logically it would be folly. She slid her body under the thicket, then held still. Her ankle throbbed, but she kept her attention focused on the man she could still see moving away from her. She watched as he looked back once, then he disappeared into the darkness of the woods.

T'Pol held her breath as she heard the soldiers approaching. One shouted that he'd seen someone moving ahead, then the group ran by T'Pol's hiding place in a rush. She peered through the thicket to see five soldiers racing after Trip. The commander had no doubt left signs of his passing so that the Germans could easily follow him.

After they'd moved away, T'Pol pushed herself out from under the thicket then sat up. She put her hand on her ankle and gritted her teeth. She looked around for something to use as a crutch so that when Trip returned, he wouldn't have to carry her. She found a downed limb that appeared to be the right height. Using the branch, T'Pol levered her weight against it and pushed herself to her feet. She was still unsteady, but she was at least able to walk alone.

Lowering herself back down to the ground, T'Pol waited. A lack of patience was definitely a problem with which she had found herself dealing after recent events. Her eyes scanned the landscape for any sign of Trip, but she saw nothing except the flutter of a few wayward birds.

Trip; she wondered when exactly she'd stopped thinking of him as Commander Tucker, her colleague, and when she'd began thinking of him as Trip, her trusted confidant. And, she reminded herself, her lover. She paused on the word for a moment. 'Lover' was a human term, not one used on Vulcan, yet if she understood it's meaning, it was an apt description of her relationship with the commander. He was indeed a person with whom she'd shared sexual relations and he was indeed an affectionate friend. But, T'Pol reminded herself, the word also meant two persons in love. 'Love' was also not a Vulcan expression, but she knew that the strength of her affection for Trip equated to human 'love' and that realization still frightened her.

Her mind returned to that night in her quarters. Because of the Trellium- D, she'd been able to access more freely her emotions, but simply by his touch, Trip had awakened in her an entire new spectrum of feelings, all of which were still tangled up within her. Before that night, T'Pol had never realized she possessed such a great capacity to feel for one person, especially an emotional being. Through their intimacy, Trip had stirred the feelings within her that, up until that point, she'd tried to classify as by-products of their neuro-pressure sessions. But now the feelings were fully awake and very, very real. Trip was a part of her and she could no longer deny that.

T'Pol's head snapped up when she heard shouting.

Then the sound of a single gunshot echoed through the forest and fear like she'd never experienced before gripped T'Pol. "Trip."



Continued