Let the Dead Bury the Living
By Thalia Drogna
AN: Thanks to highonscifi, Rinne, Gabi, Stage Manager, plumtuckered, Tata, Luna, Maraschino and Laura B for your reviews. I promise the end is in sight. Oh and Happy Easter, I hope the Easter Bunny has been kind to everyone!
"Where the hell is he?" asked Archer. It was a rhetorical question and he didn't expect Reed to answer him.
"I'm sorry, sir, I thought that he was right behind me. I was watching everyone else not him," said Reed. "I can't believe that I allowed this to happen. Some bodyguard I turned out to be."
"It's not your fault, Malcolm," said Archer. The hallways of the court house were crowded and Reed had no reason to suspect that Trip would try to sneak away without him. Reed had been expecting an attack, not Trip wandering off on his own. Archer's biggest worry was that Trip was lying somewhere hurt and couldn't summon help.
The search parties were mobilised and there was nothing else for them to do. Phlox had returned to their accommodation in the hope that Trip would go back there, but given his mysterious disappearance, that seemed unlikely. Archer was pacing in the bustling foyer of the court house and Reed was doing his best to remain calm and co-ordinate the search. Neither of the two men had spoken much except to cross destinations off their list of places that had been searched.
Suddenly T'Pol appeared, striding through the crowd with a padd in her hand. "I think we may have found him. There has been a report of a man matching the Commander's description at Starfleet Space Traffic Control, he has locked himself in the control room."
"Locked himself in? Are you sure that it's Trip?" asked Archer.
"The description mentioned that the man had silver eyes," said T'Pol.
All three of them knew what that meant. The nanites had taken over Trip's body. He was not responsible for his actions because he was not in charge of his own body anymore.
"Oh no," said Reed.
Archer closed his eyes as if the answer to all of his problems could be found in the darkness. "Why now? I thought we'd reprogrammed them."
"As did I," replied T'Pol.
"He spoke to Nash just before he left the court room. Trip said he just quoted Nietzsche at him. Maybe that was some sort of trigger. Perhaps that's what all this "let the dead bury the living" stuff is all about," said Reed.
"That doesn't make any sense, he's read the phrase and heard it spoken before now. And why Space Traffic Control? Why would he go there?" asked Archer.
"The weather station," said T'Pol, a look of realisation dawning on her face.
"The weather station?" asked Reed. "What does that have to do with anything? There's no one on board at the moment, it was sealed pending the outcome of this trial. The only people who have been allowed on board were the court sanctioned investigators and as far as I know they've completed all their work."
"Commander Tucker identified a power drain on the station and we were unable to identify what it was that was causing the drain," said T'Pol.
"You think that it's a weapon," said Reed.
"Given what we know about Nash's aims, it was always a possibility," said T'Pol.
"Yes. But you still haven't explained why he would go to Space Traffic Control," said Archer.
"It is one of the few places with a powerful enough transmitter to contact the space station," said T'Pol. "Commander Tucker has both the clearance and the knowledge to access the required systems to make use of the transmitter."
"We need to get over there, now," said Archer.
"I have already arranged transportation," said T'Pol.
Trip stood in the Space Traffic Control room. Everything that was coming in to land or waiting to take off had been put into a holding pattern. He hacked into the system using the nanites and bypassing the security protocols.
"We missed you," said the nanites.
"You were still here," replied Trip. "You just weren't talking to me."
"We apologise. We were under overriding orders."
"I got that."
"Let the Dead Bury the Living now running as ordered by key phrase and voice print," said the nanites. "Systems running at eighty percent efficiency. Damage sustained to twenty percent of nanites. Presence of nanite damaging substances detected."
"It's the therapy. It's a drug designed to destroy nanites. Will it affect the performance of the program?"
"Ninety percent probability that it will not," said the nanites.
"So that means there's a ten percent probability that this isn't going to work at all."
"Affirmative. Some decrease in efficiency and communication between units detected. One percent of data packets lost during transmission."
"Damn," thought Trip. He might yet have to correct for the damaged nanites that had been affected by Phlox's drugs. Somewhere inside him a small voice cried out and told him to fight this. This wasn't him, he was being controlled by Nash's program. The overwhelming voice of the nanites and their control program was more powerful though and no matter how hard his inner consciousness tried, it couldn't break through. His brain was completely engaged in the task at hand.
He vaguely heard shouts outside the door and knew that the security team assigned to the Space Traffic Control Centre. They were trying to gain access to the control room but Trip had scrambled the lock and the nanites would keep it that way. The only way they were getting through the door was to cut through it and so far no cutting equipment had appeared. Trip had the nanites tap into the security cameras so he could see what was going on outside the door. He was revelling in the fact that the nanites were back with him and he had all their powers at his fingertips. That was making it easier to ignore the small voice which shouted at him to stop what he was doing.
"Target acquired," said the nanites. "Transmitting signal."
"Do we have control?"
"Yes. The weapon is armed and ready. Please… input… target co-ordinates."
"Something wrong? Perform diagnostics."
"Performing diagnostics," replied the nanites.
Pain burst across the backs of Trip's eyes and he closed them to try to ease the sensation. He leaned against the console while the feeling passed.
"This isn't right," he said out loud. "What am I doing?" The silver faded from his eyes and Trip blinked. "God damn Nash to hell." Trip looked down at the console. It was set to transmit data to the weather station and he knew that the nanites had sent a program to the weather station. He also knew exactly what the nanites were now in control of and that scared him considerably.
"Diagnostics complete. Correcting corrupt data," said the nanites.
"No, wait…" said Trip urgently, but the nanites had already begun. This time the pain that ran through Trip was excruciating and he was driven into unconsciousness as his eyes returned to silver once more.
Archer, T'Pol and Reed arrived at the Space Traffic Control building and disembarked their transport at a run. A security officer was waiting for them.
"Lieutenant Jackson, sir," he said, introducing himself as they rushed into the building. "He's locked himself into the control room and disabled the lock. We can't break the code. I've just asked for the cutting gear but its going to take a few minutes to get through."
"What about surveillance. Can we see what he's doing?" asked Reed.
"The cameras aren't working. That shouldn't even be possible. All the security equipment is on a separate circuit," said Jackson.
"The Commander is very good with technology," said Archer. He and T'Pol exchanged a look, they both knew what the nanites were capable of if used maliciously. "Can we talk to him?"
"I think the com system is still working," said Jackson. "We could probably patch you through, but so far he hasn't replied to any of our attempts to talk to him."
"He's not exactly himself," replied Archer.
"We had assumed something like that. After all it isn't often that an officer of Commander Tucker's standing locks himself in the control centre," said Jackson. "Hopefully you can talk him down."
"We're going to do our best," said Archer.
They reached the control centre and Archer thumbed the com unit which would connect him with Trip.
"Trip?" he paused. "Trip, please talk to me."
"Hey Captain," came the reply.
"Would you like to tell me what you're doing," said Archer.
"Running the program," said Trip.
"What program?"
"Let the dead bury the living."
"What does the program do?"
"I can't tell you that," said Trip. Then there was a pause and a much softer voice added. "But I should tell you. I don't want to do this. You've got to help me. Shut up! Shut up! It's a secret."
"Trip, are you okay?" Archer cast a worried look back at Reed and T'Pol who both looked equally perturbed by the conversation which Trip appeared to be holding with himself.
"I'm trying to fight it but the nanites keep pulling me back. Tell T'Pol to check… No, I'm going to tell them. Leave me alone… Tell T'Pol to check the weather station… I'm not going to tell you anything. I can't tell you anymore. I've got to finish the program," said Trip.
"Trip, listen to me. You've got to fight harder. The nanites are controlling you and you need to stop what you're doing," said Archer. T'Pol touched his shoulder and indicated that she was going to find a terminal and see if she could get further information on the weather station.
"It's a weapon, Captain… Shut up! You're telling him too much… Leave me alone…No, got to input the co-ordinates. Must destroy them… I can't. They're our friends… No, I must complete the program… But it's going to hurt people. Kill people…But it's the program." Trip was pacing backwards and forwards, his mind going round and round in circles while he wrestled with the nanites' control of his body. Archer could hear the footsteps and the disturbing two sided monologue that gave him an insight into Trip's state of mind.
"Can we get people to the weather station?" Archer asked Reed, temporarily closing the channel to Trip.
"I can get Travis to take a shuttle out from Enterprise with a couple of Security officers, but even if they leave now it will take them an hour to get to the weather station," said Reed.
"Do it and get them to take Hess with them. I have a feeling that they'll need an engineer," said Archer. "Get Phlox down here as well, I think we're going to need him."
"Yes, sir," replied Reed and went to make the required calls.
"Captain," said T'Pol. "I believe that the weapon on the weather station is based on Xindi technology. Enterprise detected an energy signature from the station a few moments ago that is very similar to the Xindi probe that attacked Earth. The satellite is currently in position to fire on San Francisco."
Archer turned back to the com with another reason to talk Trip out of this.
"Trip, you can't fire that weapon," said Archer.
"Have to, but I don't want to. Have to. They're telling me to do it. I've input the co-ordinates. All I have to do is send the fire codes," said Trip.
"I know that you're stronger than this, Trip. Fight them."
"It hurts. My head hurts. I'm not going tell you anymore, you're trying to stop me. But I want to stop. No, this is the program. I have to do it. Leave me alone! Fire codes need to be sent. Not going to do it, I'm not."
"Trip, what's the target? We know that the weapon is aimed at San Francisco, but where in San Francisco?"
"I want to tell you, but they won't let me," said Trip.
"T'Pol, we need to shut down the transmitter or jam it or something," said Archer. "He's not going to be able to keep holding back the nanites for long."
"The Commander has locked everyone out of the system," said T'Pol. "It's impossible to break into them unless we can get into the control centre."
Phlox arrived at that moment. Archer updated the doctor on the situation. Trip was still ranting to himself over the open com link and Phlox agreed that it didn't sound at all healthy. "You're doing the right thing, Captain. Keep talking to him and it will ground him in reality, remind him who he is."
Archer nodded and turned back to the com. "Trip, listen to me. I want you to unscramble the door locks. I know you can do it. Fight the nanites."
"I can't. They won't let me." Suddenly Trip cried out and Archer heard the sound of equipment crashing to the ground. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…" said Trip and then there was silence.
"Trip! Trip?" There was no reply to Archer's shouts. "We have to get in there, now."
"The door has released," said T'Pol. She rapidly entered the code and the door slid back. Trip lay on the floor, obviously unconscious, curled in on himself. Pieces of broken equipment lay on the floor beside him. Phlox went to his patient, scanner in hand, while T'Pol moved to the control panel.
"How is he?" asked Archer.
Phlox turned Trip on his back and prepared a hypospray. "His heart has gone into fibrillation. I need to stabilise him."
"He has sent the fire codes," said T'Pol. Reed joined her at the console.
"It's targeting the Vulcan compound," said Reed.
"Can you stop it?" asked Archer, from where he knelt beside Trip.
"We can try," replied Reed.
Trip's eyes flickered open. "Trip, how do we stop the fire codes?" asked Archer.
"Luke 9:60," said Trip and closed his eyes, his body going into convulsions.
"Trip!" said Archer, holding him down as best he could, while Phlox tried to help his patient.
Reed wanted to go to Trip too but knew that he had other, more important, concerns. Trip was being tended by Phlox and was in the best hands that he could be in. There was nothing more that Reed could do to help him that Phlox was not already doing.
"Luke 9:60. It might be a password," said Reed.
T'Pol nodded and tried it. "It has not shut down."
"How long do we have?" asked Archer.
"The weapon needs to draw considerable amounts of power to fire. It takes several minutes to accumulate enough to discharge," said T'Pol.
"How many minutes?" said Archer.
"Approximately four," replied T'Pol.
"Luke 9:60 is a verse of the bible," said Reed. He tapped into the network and found the verse that he needed. "Jesus said unto him, let the dead bury their dead: but go thou and preach the kingdom of God."
"Let the dead bury their dead," said Archer and Reed together.
T'Pol nodded and sent the phrase to the weapon. There were a few tense seconds before T'Pol spoke. "The weapon is changing target. However it is still not shutting down."
"It's firing," said Reed.
"Where?" asked Archer urgently.
"The bay. It's discharging into open water," said Reed.
"Thank god," said Archer and turned back to Trip. "How's he doing?"
"Stable for the moment but I need to get the Commander to a hospital immediately. Starfleet Medical is the closest," said Phlox.
"I'll call an ambulance," said Reed and left the room.
"This was far too close for my liking," said Archer.
"Indeed," said Phlox, all his attention focused on his patient, who most certainly wasn't out of danger yet.
Archer sat in one of the long corridors of Starfleet Medical, outside the room where Trip lay unconscious. Phlox and another doctor were still examining him and Archer wasn't allowed in to see his friend until the doctors had finished. Guards stood beside the door and Archer knew that they were only partially there to protect Trip and mainly there to stop him from leaving should he awake under the control of the nanites again.
Reed paced up and down. The Lieutenant was not good at waiting and it showed. In contrast, T'Pol sat on the floor with her back against the wall, her eyes closed, meditating.
"Lieutenant, you're making me dizzy," said Archer as he watched Reed walk backwards and forwards.
Reed stopped pacing. "I'm sorry, sir." He collapsed into one of the chairs. "It's just that shouldn't we have heard something by now?"
"Doctors tend to take their time, Malcolm. Phlox will give us an update when he knows more," said Archer.
"Almost makes me wish I was Vulcan," Reed added with a nod in T'Pol's direction.
"I know what you mean," said Archer. He noticed Admiral Forrest striding down the hall towards them and went to meet him.
"As soon as he can be moved, we're sending him back to Enterprise," said Forrest, without any preamble.
"I suspected that would be the case. At least they're not demanding that he be sent to the Lunar Research station anymore," said Archer.
"There's a new condition though. He's got to be under guard at all times. This time they're assigning Enterprise's security team to the duty. Lieutenant Reed should be receiving the orders shortly," said Forrest.
Archer nodded. He had expected this. Obviously they couldn't allow Trip on Enterprise without some sort of security in place. If the nanites could still control Trip then they needed to ensure that he couldn't do any damage.
"Doctor Phlox and Lieutenant Reed can take him back to Enterprise when he's well enough to be moved," said Forrest.
"He hasn't seen his family in over a year, Admiral," said Archer.
"I know Jon, and it isn't fair, but it is necessary. If he was to be taken over by the nanites again then there's no telling what trouble he could cause. Imagine if he'd ordered a satellite to crash or had tampered with the space traffic control systems. He's better off in a sealed environment. It's only temporary until the nanites are out of his system."
"There's still the question of what happens when the repairs are finished and whether he's even well enough to return to service on a starship," said Archer.
"He'll have a job at Research and Development, whatever happens. The top brass are still debating whether he's important enough to Enterprise to delay the launch. I'm doing my best for him."
"Thanks Admiral, it's appreciated," replied Archer. "I refuse to let them forget how much he went through to save Earth."
"Keep me updated on his condition," said Forrest, and left Archer to return to his vigil.
Archer had fallen asleep in his chair when he was woken by the sound of a door opening and closing. He turned around to see Phlox emerging from Trip's room. T'Pol's eyes flew open, her hearing tuned to listen for anything that would mean news had arrived.
"He's awake," said Phlox.
"How is he?" asked Archer.
"He's stable but very weak. He had a full cardiac arrest on the way here. As far as I've been able to tell the nanites sent an electrical pulse through his body which caused his heart go into fibrillation and his collapse. My speculation would be that once the program was complete the nanites were programmed to kill him, but it seems that they were malfunctioning and the charge they produced wasn't enough to do it. He says that they aren't talking to him anymore," said Phlox.
"Not even in binary?" asked Reed.
"No, complete silence apparently. I think it's taking him a little while to get used to it."
"Not surprising. Can we see him?" asked Archer.
"Yes, but only a couple of minutes. His stamina is very low at the moment and he needs to rest. Don't be alarmed by the medical monitors, we're keeping an eye on his heart but I don't expect there to be any further cardiac incidents. I've also given him some painkillers that are probably making him a little fuzzy."
Archer nodded and pushed the door to Trip's room open. The young engineer lay swathed in white sheets. His bare chest showed above the blankets and had the heart monitors attached to it that Phlox had mentioned. His skin had only slightly more colour than the bed sheets. Above him the screen showed Trip's heart trace, currently strong and even. His eyes were closed but as soon as he heard the door open, blue eyes pulled themselves open ready to greet his visitors.
"Hey guys," said Trip in a quiet, tired voice. It sounded as if it was an effort for him to form even those two words. The semi-smile that accompanied them did nothing to help the image either.
"How are you doing?" asked Archer, sitting in the seat beside the bed. Reed hovered by the door and T'Pol stood at the foot of the bed, her hands clasped behind her back.
"I don't know. I could have killed those people, Captain. I nearly did," whispered Trip. His eyes began to collect water and Archer knew that Trip was trying desperately not to cry in front of his friends. Given his weakened condition it didn't surprise Archer at all that Trip's emotions were close to the surface.
"It wasn't you, Trip. Nash used the nanites to manipulate you," said Archer. Trip looked so young and distraught. He took Trip's hand in his own and squeezed it, hoping that it would give him some comfort.
"The Captain is correct. You could not have controlled your actions," said T'Pol from the end of bed.
"And I should have never let you out of my sight," added Reed from the door.
"It wasn't your fault, Malcolm," said Trip, weakly. "I used the crowd to get away, I remember that much."
"Even so, I was meant to be looking after you, making sure that nothing happened to you," replied Reed, in the depths of self-recrimination.
"As soon as Phlox says that you're well enough we'll get you back to Enterprise," said Archer. "Nash won't be able to get to you there."
"Yeah, home would be good," said Trip. "When is this all going to end? Just when I think I'm getting rid of them, this happens. I could have killed those people." Archer noted that Trip didn't seem to realise that he was repeating himself.
"We won't let it happen again, Trip," said Archer.
Trip closed his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I could have killed them," he mumbled, a tear escaping his eyelids and tracing a track down his cheek.
"It wasn't your fault," said Archer, but Trip didn't seem to hear him.
"I think that's all for today. It's time you let him get some rest," said Phlox, checking his patient's readings. "He should be more lucid tomorrow and hopefully we can take him back to Enterprise then."
Archer gave Trip's hand one last squeeze before he left the room followed by T'Pol and Reed. Archer only let himself feel the emotions that he knew had been building after he left the room. He lent against the wall, realising that it may be the only thing holding him up at that moment.
Nash sat in his high security cell waiting for the inevitable. It was really only a matter of time. His masters would not be at all pleased by his latest failure. It had been his last hope of redeeming himself and dealing with Commander Tucker at the same time. The Commander had turned out to be far more trouble than he had ever suspected. He should have been a test subject and no more. Something to be used and then discarded when no longer required. The plan had seemed to be perfect in every way, until the human factor of Enterprise's crew was taken into account. Archer's persistence had cost him dearly and his plan to manipulate Lieutenant Reed had backfired with undesirable results. Even his attempt to dispose of the predictable Vulcan, T'Pol, had floundered against the intelligence of the Science Officer.
The tap on the small sink in the corner began to drip. Except that the drips weren't water, they were a black fluid. The drips turned into a steady flow which spilled out onto the floor.
"I was wondering when you would arrive," said Nash, as the black puddle formed into a man. The black surface of Lieutenant Davis seethed with movement and turned Nash's stomach.
"You helped to create me. It's only fitting that I should be the one to kill you," said Davis.
"You're Section 31's executioner now?" said Nash.
"Everyone has a vocation in life. I find it gives me a certain amount of fulfilment," replied Davis.
"I'm glad that you enjoy your work," said Nash. "I suppose that there is nothing I can do to prevent you from killing me?"
"You can try to fight me, but my new form gives me a few advantages. In short, you're a dead man," said Davis. He flowed over the Senator, black liquid pouring into his victim's nose and mouth, suffocating him.
Nash tried to free himself from the blackness that enmeshed him, but he knew that this was the end. The light was fading and with it all his grand schemes and ambition faded too.