Disclaimer: Enterprise and her crew belong to Paramount. I'm just borrowing them for a while.

Bottled Up – Part 3

Depressed, Trip sat in a corner of the mess hall, gazing out at the stars and paying absolutely no attention to anything going on around him. So caught up in his misery was he that he hadn't even eaten any of the slice of pecan pie sitting on the table in front of him. Three months it had been – three months! – since the Captain had imposed his punishment and confined Trip to the ship. And, what was more, they had been an unusually busy three months, with some kind of exciting or important away mission almost every week. Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, T'Pol and the Captain had all left Enterprise to explore new planets and meet new people several times recently. Hell, even Dr. Phlox had gone along a couple of times, when his medical expertise was needed. But Trip…

The engineer sighed. He supposed he should be grateful for small mercies – the warp engine was running better than it had done in months, due to all the extra time he was spending working on it. But that didn't make up for the loss of his freedom…or his best friend. But before he could start wallowing in that aspect of his problem, his thoughts were interrupted by a cough. Looking round, he saw Malcolm Reed hovering next to his table, obviously having been standing there for some time trying to get Trip's attention.

"Mind if I join you?"

"Sure, go ahead," replied Trip, waving his hand at the other seat at the table before turning his attention back to the starscape

After several more minutes of silence, Malcolm cleared his throat again. "Er, Trip, is there something the matter?" he asked, knowing full well that there was something the matter, and hoping to get Trip to tell him what it was.

"No, Malcolm, everythin's just peachy." Trip had intended to stop there, but suddenly decided that it might be good to talk to someone, if only to stop himself going crazy. "I've been stuck on this ship for three months, watching everyone else flying off and having fun, and I've lost my best friend. Is that enough for you?"

Malcolm was shocked by the amount of bitterness in Trip's tone. He, along with the rest of Trip's friends, had noticed both the Commander's absence on away missions, and his lack of contact with Captain Archer. None of them had accepted Trip's excuses of a backlog of work in engineering, but since no other explanation had been forthcoming, they had no idea what was going on.

"Trip, what on earth's happened?" Malcolm asked. "And don't try to tell me that it's nothing more than repairs and tinkering with that dammed engine."

Trip hesitated. Did he really want to display all his personal baggage in front of Malcolm? Then he decided he did. Who knew, maybe the armoury officer might even have some kind of insight into the Captain's actions.

"The Cap'n confined me to the ship until further notice," he announced.

Shocked, Malcolm could only ask: "But why?"

"You tell me, Malcolm, you tell me. The Cap'n gave me some load of rubbish about me puttin' myself in danger too much on away missions, and therefore he was keepin' me on Enterprise for my own safety. But when I pointed out that he got into just as much trouble planet-side as I do, he just clammed up and pulled rank on me. Why would Jon do this to me, Malcolm? Why?"

The use of the Captain's first name told Malcolm that there was definitely more to this than Trip not being allowed on away missions. "Can't you try and talk to him about it?" he suggested.

"He won't even see me," Trip complained. "The most we've spoken to each other in the last twelve weeks was after that incident at Parmia Prime, and that was only because the warp reactor was in danger of blowing up!" Then his tone hardened. "Not that I particularly want to see him, you understand. The Jon I used to know would never have done what he's done without some kind of explanation. But evidently bein' the Cap'n of Starfleet's first warp-five vessel has gone to his head. He's not the man I knew anymore, and I don't particularly want to know this new incarnation."

Malcolm wasn't fooled, however. Although Trip's words were harsh, he could see the misery in the man's eyes, and knew that the engineer was desperately missing his best friend. Malcolm resolved to try and talk to the Captain himself about Trip's problem. He knew that there was the distinct possibility of a reprimand for questioning the Captain's orders, but he owed it to Trip, who had been a good friend to him, to try. He stood, deciding to implement his plan right now, before he could chicken out. But he was halted by the sound of the Captain's own voice coming through the comm, its tone one of urgent command.

"Everybody, brace for impact!"

Malcolm and Trip looked at each other for a split second, before grabbing on to the table as the ship lurched violently.

"What the hell is going on!" yelled Trip, as the ship shuddered again.

"Weapons fire, Commander!" replied Malcolm, stumbling across the room to the comm panel. But before he could press the button, the Captain's voice sounded again.

"Senior officers to the Bridge," he barked, and Malcolm immediately changed direction and headed out the door towards his post.

Trip hesitated. He was a senior officer, but should he be on the Bridge or in Engineering? Just as he had decided to follow Malcolm to the Bridge, the comm beeped again.

"Archer to Tucker."

"Tucker here."

"Commander, please go to Engineering and make sure that the warp reactor isn't about to blow up in our faces again. Archer out."

And there it was. Archer had stately clearly and concisely that he didn't want Trip anywhere near him, not even in a time of crisis. Part of Trip knew that in reality Engineering was the most sensible place for him to be, but the other part bridled at the Captain's veiled insult. Archer had implied that he couldn't keep the engines under control, as if he was a greenhorn cadet with no knowledge of warp mechanics.

Grimacing at yet another crappy hand dealt him by the universe, Trip left the mess hall and set off for Engineering. However, he had gone no more than twenty yards when the ship was plunged into darkness.