Disclaimer: see Chapter 1

A/N: Wow! What reviews. Thank you, everyone. I think I've discovered the power of a cliffhanger! If you're thinking 'What cliffhanger?' you may have missed Chapter 10 which I posted very soon after Chapter 9.

I hope this is worth waiting for but constructive criticism welcomed, as always.

Chapter 11

It's true - time does slow down at a moment of crisis - the moment of death.

For Trip, each breath lasted an eon, an instant expanded exponentially. He was startlingly aware of every feel, every nuance of the scene, vibrantly and indelibly etched. All senses intense, untrammeled. Focussed to incredible brilliance. A thing of wonder if not for its source.

Archer's fingers were poised over the trigger. They began to move, frame by frame - a constant and relentless progression toward mortality. Playing like a movie in slow motion.

Trip's rapt perception embraced movie, the obscene eagerness of the aliens, the ice cold Rav, his own friends' disbelief and impotent anger. And Archer's unnatural isolation. The entire universe.

The prickle of sweat along Trip's forehead collected carelessly into tidy beads, combining into rivulets.

Trip searched deep into his friend's lost eyes - seeking for even a spark of his consciousness. But he found only unknowingness, innocent yet treacherous. He parted his lips for one last plea, then closed them. He was ready, as ready as one ever might be to be shattered into one's molecules. It would be quick, at least.

Trip stood with a final acceptance as Archer depressed the trigger. This was it. The end. The irony of it being at Jon's hand.

The trigger clicked. But nothing. Nothing happened.

Trip took a shallow breath, forcing it in through constricted airways. A short respite. The gun had broken. He wasn't dead... not yet.

Archer looked down at his gun in puzzlement as if he had never seen such an object before. He lifted his gaze to his mentor.

"Don't worry," said Rav with a laugh, breaking the spell - breaking Trip's timeless enchantment. "You did a fine job, Captain. Your only problem is that you are not a Thraxian. These weapons are genetically coded." He held out his hand. Archer handed the gun back to Rav without a word.

Trip held himself rigid as Rav hefted the gun and studied him. Genetically coded? Rav would do it instead?

Rav smiled at Trip. "That worked better than I had hoped. It was a useful test. You can relax - for now."

Relief washed over Trip at his escape, gratitude at being spared his life, then fury at that false emotion. Gratitude for his life? He had to fight to his utmost to keep the rage contained within him, its only outlet a tremor of his body. Silence was his only option. He couldn't trust himself to speak.

Rav gave his fellows a smug bow, accepting their plaudits on the drama.

Malcolm took an audible breath, released from the thrall of shock. He saw Trip's unsteadiness. Not surprising after a mock-execution. His contempt for these aliens grew, if that was possible. And to dress Archer as a Nazi with all those connotations - that added to the wickedness. He stared at Rav in distaste. "Why have him in that uniform?"

Rav appraised Archer, now staring blankly ahead. "He is mine now. It is appropriate."

Before Malcolm could respond, Trip laid a light hand on his arm to check him. There was nothing to gain and perhaps all to be lost if tempers rose.

"Is that really our Archer?" rasped Trip, finding his voice again.

"I believe so," said Rav in an offhand manner. "He had a uniform similar to yours when he was found. He told me he was from the future."

"What did you do to him?" asked Trip. He didn't know what was worse. To lose Archer completely, or to find him alive but in this distorted state, a warped and empty figure.

"Oh. Some experimenting. Humans are very susceptible you know. It was interesting to see if that changes in the future. Apparently it doesn't. The conditioning procedure was widely used once. Some subjects were more resilient than others. Apparently it was quite random as to which survived and which... didn't." Rav considered Archer - his specimen. "I have no idea which Archer will prove to be. Time will tell."

"What will you do next, Rav?" asked one of his followers.

Rav extended a talon. "I had considered a pageant in the rally next week before an appreciative audience. The gallant and loyal Captain Archer dispatching three enemies of the Reich." The talon swept an arc in the air to indicate Trip, Travis and Malcolm. "But then, that would be perhaps unsatisfying - too quick, and then what?"

"We could draft them all into the armies, after suitable conditioning?" put in another alien.

Rav sniffed. "Yes, but that lacks any additional excitement - no different from our usual fare. But I do have another idea. Perhaps we condition just another one of these three? We set them against each other - Archer and the other conditioned subject against the remaining two. That would be most diverting. Two intent on killing, the other two... well, what would they do? There is a deserted village we use for training in house to house combat - ideal for our purposes."

Trip, Malcolm and Travis exchanged alarmed looks at these appalling prospects, each suggestion worse than the last. They had to escape from these madmen - and soon. "Excellent notion, Rav!" exclaimed a Thraxian, slapping him on the back. "Let me know who you select as the second in your team and I will make a wager with you. I think you will find widespread interest in that scenario!"

Rav shrugged modestly. "Thank you. I may have other ideas, even more diverting. Let me consider further before we get too far." He rocked back on his heels and swung around to include all his prisoners in his next comments. "I'm sure you want to talk about our plans. We'll leave the good Captain with you so you can catch up but we'll be back. We've got some interesting things lined up for you, whatever is decided."

The Thraxians left with much animated discussion amongst themselves. The men watched them file through the door. Rav was the final one - a triumphant smirk plain in his face. The meeting had gone well as far as he was concerned, it would seem.

They heard the bolts being thrown home to secure the door. Travis stepped over and listened. "I think they've gone, " he said in relief.

"Damnation," muttered Trip, drawing a hand through his hair. "They are crazy. Crazy, terrifying bastards." He slumped back against a wall, head tipped up and eyes closed. The reaction was starting to set in now Rav had gone. He found he was shaking.

Malcolm peered at him and said worriedly, "Trip - are you alright?" As soon as it was out of his mouth, he berated himself. What a ridiculous comment to make to someone who had been certain he would die at his own friend's hand. Why could he never get it right? He unconsciously massaged his neck as he considered Trip's ordeal.

Trip looked at him and straightened up. "I think so. God, Malcolm. I thought I was going to die then - for sure. I thought it was the end." He rubbed his arm over his sweaty brow.

Malcolm was sympathetic but they didn't have time now for the luxury of analysis. He thought back to Rav's plans for them. What would be worse? Being a murdering zombie or having to deal with his friends transformed into such monsters? He snorted in disgust. What a choice! It was imperative they escaped. He said, "We have to get out of here, and soon, unless we want to be intimately involved in raising Rav's popularity index."

Trip grunted in agreement, trying to quell his anxieties. He had responsibilities. One in particular. "The Captain?"

The three friends looked at their Captain. Archer stood expressionless in the center of the room. He was very pale and a thin sheen of sweat coated his skin. He wavered a little, unsteady on his feet.

"Will we have to carry him?" said Travis.

"Possibly," said Trip, frowning as he studied Archer. Perhaps they could bring him out of this state. Rav's parting words had implied that they would be able to talk to him. He had to try. He took a slow step toward Archer, alert for any reaction.

"Jon," said Trip.

"Careful, Commander," warned Malcolm. "He isn't in his right mind."

"I know," said Trip softly, not taking his attention from Archer. "Captain. Captain Archer - Jon. It's Trip. Can you hear me?"

Trip was afraid that this would turn out to be some huge hoax - yet another game. Perhaps this was not the Captain but a hologram? He reached out a hesitant hand and laid it gently on Archer's arm. It was reassuringly solid. But then, he had come across exceedingly realistic holograms in the past. No - this had to be him. The Thraxians wouldn't know about Archer, would they?

Archer remained oblivious. His eyes were wide open but unseeing.

Malcolm was poised beside them, watching intently. Not even the barest twitch of recognition. He shook his head in disappointment, "It's no use, he's..."

Archer gasped, as if coming up for air from a deep underwater dive. "No!" he yelled. "Stop!" He grabbed at his head, moaning, eyes screwed tightly shut. His body twisted in agony.

"You're safe, Captain, Jon. It's okay!" shouted Trip. He wrapped his arms around Archer, trying to quieten him. He needed to get him to subside. Then perhaps he could get him to listen to what he was saying.

Archer gave a huge heave to free himself. He opened his eyes wide, fixated on Malcolm. With a wild scream he jumped at his armory officer, who swore and back peddled. He wasn't quick enough and Archer landed a good blow to his jaw that sent him sprawling.

"Jon!" exclaimed Trip.

Archer whipped around to him. He growled incoherently and swung a quick one-two. Trip avoided the first blow but the second caught him across his nose.

Travis leapt on Archer from behind, grabbing his arms and Malcolm threw himself headfirst at Archer's legs. The two officers together used their combined weight to topple him to the ground. He lay face down with Travis and Malcolm sitting on him, riding his violent thrashing.

"Careful!" shouted Trip. "We don't want to hurt him!" Ignoring the trickle of blood running from his nose, Trip crouched low on the floor by Archer's head, turning about so as to see his face the right way up. "Captain. Jon. Listen to me. It's Trip. Enterprise is here. You're safe." He winced at his last statement. He hoped it was true, or would be soon.

Archer stilled his physical exertions - somewhere his consciousness apparently he knew it was futile - but his eyes still had a wild aspect to them. Trip didn't like the way they rolled feverishly.

"Please, Jon." Trip felt powerless. What could he do? "Captain. Remember Enterprise... your ship. Your crew. Me."

"It's no good," gasped Malcolm, still catching his breath. "We should restrain him so..."

"No," said Trip firmly. "I'm not giving up yet." His attention hadn't wavered from Archer. "Captain, do you remember our mission to the Expanse. The Xindi. You destroyed their weapon. Enterprise destroyed the spheres. The Expanse has gone!" His eyes begged Archer to remember, to return to his senses.

Archer frowned. "Xindi?" he muttered.

Trip barely heard his quiet voice but it gave him hope. He smiled encouragingly at his Captain and friend. "Yes. Xindi - the Expanse. You destroyed the Xindi weapon. Do you remember?"

The answer took a while to come, and then only faintly, but it was enough for Trip. Archer's eyes were calmer, a semblance of reason had returned. He said quietly, "Yes. The weapon. It exploded. I told everyone to leave and then... then there was a Reptilian, and we fought. And then it exploded." His brow drew together in concentration as he considered the figure before him. "Trip? It's you?"

Trip grinned broadly. "Yeah, Captain. It's me!"

Archer blinked. He tried to sit up but his body wouldn't co-operate. "There's something the matter. I can't move."

"Okay, fellas. Let him up," said Trip, hardly daring to let his great joy at Archer's true return impinge on him. He was still grinning.

Travis began to get off Archer.

Malcolm was less willing. "Wait, Travis. Commander, don't you think we should be careful about this? Secure him first?"

Archer tried to twist around. "Malcolm? Is that you?"
Malcolm sat a touch more firmly. He was determined not to be decanted before he consented to let Archer up.

Trip said sharply, "Let him up. That's an order."

Malcolm looked skeptically at Trip. Trip sighed. "Malcolm. There are three of us, and the Captain isn't at his best. I'm sure we can manage. Now get off him!"

Malcolm and Travis rolled off Archer, who turned onto his side, breathing deeply. Malcolm got to his feet and moved away a few paces while the others stayed on the ground. The enormity of what had happened was now growing in them all. Their Captain returned from the dead.

Archer pointed to Trip's face and said, "Did I do that? It's all a little hazy."

Trip wiped the back of his hand over his face and looked at the blood. He shook his head. "It's nothing. Don't worry. We thought you were dead, Captain."

"I... I don't know what I thought," said Archer. He couldn't concentrate. "I don't know what happened." He looked at Travis, grinning wildly next to him, and gave his arm an affectionate squeeze. "Travis."

"Welcome back, Sir," said Travis. "We've missed you."

Archer smiled at him then looked up at Malcolm, taking in his tattered appearance, the fresh red mark on his jaw below a dark bruise. "I hit you too, didn't I? I'm sorry."

Malcolm shrugged and folded his arms. "I should've been quicker. How did you get off the Xindi weapon?" There was a suspicious edge to his voice.

Trip picked up on it immediately. "Malcolm!" he admonished.

"No, it's okay, Trip." Archer grimaced. He tried to place his memories in some sort of order. He ran a finger along his mouth as he fought back to the fragments belonging to the attack on the weapon. He was conscious of Trip's concern and Malcolm's sharp attention. He shrugged. "I can't account for it. I saw Daniels before we transported to the weapon. He might have had a hand in it."

"Daniels? You didn't say anything about that at the time," said Malcolm accusingly.

"There was no point. He wanted me to stay behind. There was no way I was going to do that. But I think that might be why we traveled back in time."

Travis said, "We haven't. This is the correct year, just not the right... Universe."

Archer felt faint. He brushed a hand over his temples, wincing at tender spots. "I don't follow."

"Neither do we," said Trip. "T'Pol's working on a theory."

"T'Pol as well? Is everyone here?"

Trip nodded. "Yeah. Enterprise and the team - the survivors - that infiltrated the weapon. Did you hear what I said before? We destroyed sphere 41. The Expanse has gone. We succeeded."

Archer closed his eyes and gulped. "Thank God," he said in relief. He wasn't feeling well. A lassitude was overtaking him accompanied by nausea. A building pain in his head. He gazed around at his crewmates. "I thought I would never see any of you again. But... I mentioned Enterprise. They know about her!" He remembered an alien, the questioning, his answers.

"What did you tell them, Captain?" asked Malcolm, alarm growing.

Archer ran his thumb over his eyebrow. "I said she was a spaceship, warp capable. It's difficult to recall much. I was drugged I think... I know. It's hazy."

"Did you say where she was?"

"In the Expanse, in the future. Unobtainable." Archer looked at his armory officer with a shred of hope. "Perhaps they believed me?"

"Let's hope so," said Malcolm quietly.

Trip watched Archer with concern. "What did they do to you?" Archer was pale and growing paler.

That simple question triggered horrific memories. Vibration; dreadful, unendurable pain. He groaned. "Uhh. Some kind of brain washing. They... they fed chemicals into my brain. Drilled into my skull... It hurt." That was an understatement. He touched the sore place on his left temple as remembered the rest of it.

"Drilled..." gasped Trip, clutching at his knee. He could see the mark, could now make out it was a neat hole... Saw another one. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat.

"Barbarians," ground out Malcolm, paling as his imagination went to work. "Their conditioning process, eh?"

"We have to get out now," said Travis.

"Agreed," said Malcolm meeting his fearful eyes.

Archer rubbed his hands over his face, avoiding the burn, then stopped. Her blinked at the gray sleeve, then slowly followed his arm down to look at the tunic he was wearing. "My God...What is this? What have you done?" He gazed in accusation at Trip, then the other two. "Answer me, damnit!"

Trip said, "It wasn't us. It was the aliens. Don't you remember? Rav? What he made you do?"

Archer's face changed from animated concern to hard stillness. Then he looked up, snarled and launched himself in a frenzy of blows at Travis.

"No!" shouted Trip, leaping to Travis' defense as Malcolm joined the fray. They swiftly managed to pin the Captain down again, this time on his back. He had weakened and couldn't muster much of a defense.

"Dogs!" shouted Archer, "Traitors to the Reich!"

"No!" yelled Trip. "Please..."

Archer's strength left him and he stopped struggling after a few seconds. He sighed as he relaxed back exhausted.

"Captain, please don't do this," begged Trip. "Remember what happened, remember Enterprise." He looked pleadingly at Malcolm. How many times would they need to go through this?

Malcolm grimaced. "It was triggered when he saw the uniform. We need to take his jacket off."

"Trip..." Archer spoke softly. He turned his head toward him. "What's happening?"

Trip bit his lip. The Captain was back with them. It seemed his weakened state couldn't support the altered personality for very long. "I don't know, Captain. You aren't well."

Archer felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck as he saw, in his mind's eye, Trip standing before him and noted the gun in his own hand. He knew its purpose. An illusion or real, that memory? "What did I do? Trip! I was going to kill you." He wanted Trip to deny it. Trip didn't. He bowed his head and put out a comforting hand, holding Archer's shoulder.

Archer shook his head, slowly because it was so painful. "I did, didn't I? Oh, Trip." The world shattered around him as the surroundings rushed dizzyingly past. He felt the nausea take hold.

"Quick!" said Travis, seeing the signs.

Travis and Trip got Archer to his feet and into the bathroom where he threw up.

Trip saw streaks of blood in the vomit. Archer's forehead was burning hot and his pulse erratic. Trip gently guided Archer to a chair in the main room and helped him with a glass of water, supporting him with his arm around his shoulders.

"How is he, Commander?" asked Malcolm, squinting at Archer and noting his drooping lids.

Trip scrunched his face up. "Not good. He appears to know who he is still but he's... spaced out... not quite with it. We have to get him medical attention."

"Let's get that tunic off him," said Malcolm. "We can't let him see it again and he certainly can't walk through the camp dressed like that."

"Uhh, yeah," said Trip, dragging his mind back to their escape plan.

Between them but with little help from Archer, they removed the gray uniform tunic with its hateful swastika and unbuttoned the collar of the undershirt.

"Shame we haven't got a change of pants," said Trip, looking around as if expecting some to miraculously materialize. "Look, Malcolm. We can't tie him up. I know he's unpredictable..."

"It's okay. He's in no fit state to try anything now. In any case, he'll be easier to manage like that."

Trip nodded gratefully.

Malcolm said briskly, "Let's get out of here before the Thraxians return for more 'entertainment'. And the sooner we get back to the ship, the sooner Phlox can see the Captain."

Archer grabbed Trip's arm, "I... stay here. Can't go. Slow you down."

"Uh huh, no way, Captain. You are coming with us. That's non-negotiable." Trip levered Archer's fingers off him. "Come on, Lieutenant. Let's use your expertise."

"Understood," acknowledged Malcolm with a broad grin. "One jailbreak coming up."

-----------------------------

The plan went remarkably smoothly - at least it started like that. Malcolm's explosives made short work of the door. They made their way along gallery and via the elevator to the ground floor, taking turns to support Archer between them. He could barely stand but did what he could to assist them as they made their best speed. The moving walkway made it possible to make progress and they soon arrived unchallenged at the portal room.

"This seems too easy," grunted Malcolm as he scouted ahead to the portal.

"Don't speak too soon, Lieutenant," commented Trip as he labored under Archer's weight. Travis grinned at the remark. He was bearing Archer's other arm over his shoulder. They followed Malcolm into the room.

"How do we know which code to use?" said Malcolm in agitation as he studied the control panel.

"It doesn't matter," shouted Trip. "As long as it's on Earth."

"It has to be in the correct hemisphere though, otherwise Enterprise won't pick up the emergency beacon's signal," warned Travis.

Trip joined Malcolm, leaving Travis to hold on to Archer.

"Come on, come on," Malcolm muttered under his breath as he tried to make sense of the display and its alien script. "We need Hoshi!" he said in exasperation.

"Perhaps not!" exclaimed Trip. "It must be easy to use. It isn't supposed to be used by outsiders. Why make it secure? Look... this indicator is divided into three. The three warring factions, right? Red, black, blue. Red in the East, black for the Nazis, blue for America."

Malcolm made a doubting noise.

"We can try," said Trip, touching the blue bar. They both sighed in relief as the display changed into a representation of North and South America, with side panels representing other places presumably under American influence. Trip stabbed a finger at the center of North America. The map zoomed in. He gave a confident grin and homed-in in a few steps to the base they had landed near.

A winking red dot showed the location of the portal. "Good enough!" said Trip. He touched the dot and it changed to green. "Everyone through," said Trip. "We don't know how long it will remain open for."

They stepped through the blue shimmering screen and into the room Malcolm had departed from.

"This seems right," said Malcolm. "This way."

They entered the lobby area after Malcolm had confirmed it was clear and ran to the entrance door. Malcolm opened it a little. "Clear," he confirmed. "No! Wait!"

They waited impatiently, Archer sagging on Trip and Travis' shoulders while Malcolm watched a soldier pass outside.

Noises came from the room they had left.

"We've gotta go now!" said Trip.

Malcolm nodded, "Clear now," he called as he opened the door. They ran to the forcefield barrier. To Malcolm's horror he could see no switch to disable the field. "How do we get out?" he said hunting around.

"It could be on auto, after all, they want to stop people getting in. They're not worried about those leaving," said Trip. He led the way forward to test his hypothesis. A gleaming rectangle appeared in the air before them. Without delay, they passed through and into the compound. Shouts floated across to them from the domed building. The aliens were on their heels.

Malcolm promised, "I'll transport you back as soon as I get on board," and gave a sharp triple rap with his right heel as he looked in concern at the gaining aliens.

He dissolved in a shimmer while his crewmates gazed on.

"Hurry up, Malcolm," said Travis as they waited.

TBC