Chapter 11

Back in Trip's quarters, they found a note on the bed, a few lines painstakingly drawn with a pencil: "We Go WiTh HoShI. See Yu Latr! SaRa"

It was obvious that the children had been in a great hurry to get going; Sara's books and papers lay scattered on the table, and Sammy had never even bothered to put on his shoes (or had discarded them on the way to the door).

"Hoshi promised to show them her favorite movie when her shift was over," Trip explained, gathering up his children's belongings. "They've been looking forward to it all day."

Malcolm nodded. He had noticed that Trip was taking more time than necessary straightening things up, not meeting his eyes as he carefully put the things back to where they belonged. He seemed unsure of what to do next, afraid, even. Malcolm wasn't surprised. Calling your family that you hadn't seen for thirty years was difficult enough, but calling them under these circumstances seemed like the hardest thing he could think of. Even more so since there was no time for... for anything.

"You know... Hoshi found out their call code a few weeks ago," he said quietly. He noticed Trip's back stiffen ever so slightly. "You can get it from the database."

A brief silence followed, then Trip turned around, still holding one of Sammy's shoes in his hand. His face was devoid of all emotions.

"I..." He lowered his eyes. "I don't know what I am going to say. I can't just..."

He trailed off, but Malcolm inwardly finished the sentence for him. I can't just call them and say "Hi, folks, remember the guy with the funny nickname who was kidnapped by the Orions about, oh, thirty years ago? Right, that's me. Oh, and by the way, would you take in my kids while I go gallivanting across the galaxy running away from Singer's mad henchmen? Great, thanks!"

"Maybe..." Malcolm hesitated. Truth was, he had no idea what he was going to say. "Maybe you just have to wait and see what they say. This is going to come as a shock to them, too." To put it mildly.

Trip turned the shoe over in his hands, never raising his eyes. "And if they don't want to talk to me?"

The possibility had occurred to Malcolm as well; he had no idea how Trip's family was going to react to the shock of finding themselves face to face with a stranger who claimed to be their son. Maybe cutting the comm link was the only way they would be able to cope. But then he remembered what Trip had told him about his mother fighting the Raiders, a single woman taking on a bunch of Orion warriors to save her child.

"They'll talk to you," he said. "I'm sure they will."

Finally, Trip met his eyes. He didn't ask how Malcolm could be so sure, only regarded him for a long moment. Then he nodded.

"Okay."

He trusts me

. The thought came to Malcolm as a startled realization.

Trusts me, just like that.

He watched Trip as he sat down in front of the monitor and switched on the screen, feeling strangely helpless. I'm just as clueless as you are. Why listen to me, of all people?

Trip, of course, gave no answer to Malcolm's mute question. Perched stiffly on his chair, he watched the Starfleet logo appear on the screen, then opened a link to the ship's database.

While Trip's reading skills had improved a lot over the last weeks, finding his way through a complex computer system was still difficult for him, and Malcolm was glad to help out. It gave him the feeling that there was at least something he could do.

He entered the code into the comm system, then turned back to Trip and pointed out a key on the monitor's frame.

"If you hit that button, your call will be connected."

For a moment, Trip only stared at the blinking row of numbers on the screen in front of him. Malcolm saw his hand tremble as he pressed the call button. A second later, the code disappeared to be replaced by another Starfleet/Joint Forces logo and the words "Your call is being connected".

Do they have to put that bloody thing everywhere

, Malcolm thought, staring at the Joint Forces symbol as if it were responsible for everything that had happened in the last half hour. Then the screen changed again, and Malcolm didn't even have time to shake his head at his own weird train of thoughts.

For a brief second, the display went blank (it always did before long-distance connections, a minor malfunction that used to drive Hoshi crazy), then the face of a woman appeared on the screen. Around sixty, Malcolm thought as he watched from his place outside the monitor's visual range. Her eyes, however, seemed younger than that.

The woman's gray-streaked blonde hair was tied back, and her nose resembled Trip's in its slightly upswept shape. The family likeness was there, though not strikingly so; Mrs. Tucker's eyes were green rather than blue, and Malcolm noticed a sprinkle of freckles across the bridge of her nose.

"Yes?" she asked, not in an unfriendly way. There was no recognition in her eyes, only slight surprise when her gaze dropped to check the call code at the bottom of her computer screen. "Can I help you...?"

She was obviously waiting for her caller to identify himself, but Trip did nothing of the sort. For a few seconds, he remained silent, and Mrs. Tucker had already opened her mouth again when he finally spoke up.

"You..." He cleared his throat. "You must be Susan Tucker." He said the name carefully, almost like a question.

The woman on the screen nodded, bewildered. "And you are...?"

Again, Trip hesitated. When he answered, however, his voice sounded quite steady. "I'm Charles Tucker III."

For a long moment, Susan Tucker did not move at all. She stared at Trip and Trip stared back, neither of them speaking or turning their eyes away. The silence was so loud that it sounded like a scream in Malcolm's ears.

Finally, the woman did speak, in a hoarse, unsteady voice. "If this is some sort of cruel joke..."

Trip only shook his head. Susan's eyes dropped back to the call code that was displayed on the bottom of the screen, and Malcolm could almost watch as the implication hit her - a Starfleet code. A long-distance call from a starship that was light-years away from Earth.

Her face went gray, and for a moment Malcolm thought she was going to pass out. She grabbed the table in front of her, hard, as if she needed to steady herself, but her eyes never left the screen even for one second.

"Are you... are you okay?" Trip asked, and to Malcolm's surprise the woman let out a laugh, a dry sound that spoke more of shock than of anything else.

"I... I guess I am," she said, the tremble in her tone belying her words. "So... you... " Her voice failed and the last word was hardly audible. "Trip?"

Trip nodded. Susan's hand went up to her mouth and clenched into a fist, as if she wanted to hold a scream inside. Her face was white. Malcolm got the impression that she had passed out, if only for a second and without ever bothering to fall over. Then the glazed-over look faded and her eyes became clear again, filling with moisture. Malcolm doubted that Susan even realized she was crying. Her hand came down limply, then curled around the edge of the table again.

"Trip..." She swallowed. "I... are you alright?"

Tears were running down her cheeks but she ignored them, shaking her head and letting out another laugh that didn't sound like a laugh at all. "I'm... I'm sorry, that's a stupid thing to ask you... but... oh, God, I'm so sorry, seems I jus' don't know what to say..."

"I'm alright," Trip said quietly. Malcolm couldn't see his face from where he was sitting, but he heard the crack in the other man's voice. "It's not a stupid thing to ask."

Susan nodded, pressing the back of her hand against her mouth. She took several deep breaths which sounded more like sobs, fighting to regain her control. Finally, she lowered her hand again.

"Will... will you excuse me for a moment?" she managed. "I'd like to get your father."

Trip nodded again and Susan reached out to touch the screen, an involuntary gesture by which she seemed to be assuring herself that the image was real, not only a figment of her imagination. Then she was gone. Trip stared at the monitor for another few seconds, though Malcolm doubted he was really seeing the living room with the old armchairs and couches, or any of the other things on the screen. His shoulders were slumped, and he covered his eyes with one hand, remaining in that position for a while. Malcolm hesitated. His first thought had been walking over there, maybe laying a hand on his friend's shoulder, but then decided that it might be better to leave him alone for the moment. This was something Trip needed to do on his own, and private emotions that he needed to deal with in... well, in private.

When Trip raised his head again, the trembling of his shoulders had stopped. He never turned around to look at Malcolm, and straightened his posture when Susan reappeared on the screen.

The man next to her was about her age, although his hair was entirely gray. Looking at Charles Tucker II, Malcolm thought he was seeing Trip like he was going to look thirty years from now - the likeness between father and son was unmistakable.

Trip's father froze just like Susan had when his eyes first fell on the monitor. For several seconds, he said nothing at all, only staring at what must seem like an apparition to him.

"I..." Trip trailed off, and the man on the screen was startled out of his trance.

"Trip?" His voice was no more than a whisper. "But... how... "

Like Susan, Charles Tucker took no notice of the tears that filled his eyes. He didn't even try to wipe them off, never taking his eyes off the screen.

"Where are you, Trip?"

"I'm on the Enterprise," Trip said. "A Starfleet ship."

Susan smiled through her tears. "Look at us," she said with a shaky laugh, and this time it seemed real, not just a reaction to the shock. "Bawlin' like babies, all three of us."

Trip's father laughed. He was crying at the same time, but it sounded genuine enough. "Trip, I... I don't know what to say, it's jus' so... are they takin' you home, son? Back to Earth?"

Trip hesitated. "Not yet," he said then. "But it's... it's good to see you."

Susan laid a hand on the screen's frame, as if she wished she could reach through it and touch her son. "We never stopped thinkin' of you, Trip."

Charles nodded. "You don't know what it feels like, seein' you again after all those years..."

"I think I do," Trip said quietly.

"And I can't even give you a hug!" Susan smiled, wiping her cheeks with her sleeve. "Tell those Starfleet people to put that warp engine of theirs to work. You've gotta come home, son."

Trip half-turned on his seat, meeting Malcolm's eyes. "Would you..."

"Of course." Malcolm got up and stepped into the screen's visual range. From up close, he saw that both of Trip's parents were still pale underneath their tears, their shoulders trembling.

No wonder

, he thought. You didn't get over that kind of shock in a matter of minutes, no matter how well you appeared to cope with it.

"This is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed," Trip said. "He's the one who... took me back to Enterprise."

Malcolm looked briefly at his friend, and back at the tear streaked faces of Mr. and Mrs. Tucker. He could see Trip's point in keeping his explanation as vague as possible. "I was given to him as a present because the Senator thought he'd enjoy screwing a slave of his own species" might not make for an ideal start.

He nodded his greeting. "Mr. and Mrs. Tucker..."

"Lieutenant." Susan smiled at him, still rather tearfully. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

Charles nodded. "I believe we owe you our thanks."

I don't think so

. Malcolm thought of Trip - or Sev, rather - kneeling before him in V'Lin's assembly hall, and suddenly found it hard to look the two of them in the eyes.

"I was only doing my job," he said, and the words were hardly out of his mouth when he realized what a stupid thing to say that was. "I mean, I... "

"We understand, Lieutenant." To his surprise, Susan sounded slightly amused. "Thank you for rescuin' our son."

"So..." Charles turned back to Trip. "When are you gonna come home, son? I believe I saw somethin' on the news 'bout Enterprise's five year mission bein' almost over. You're headed back to Earth, aren't you?"

"Yes." Malcolm knew what Trip was thinking. These people were his parents, a family he hadn't seen for, well, for a lifetime, and he hated to burden them with any more. "But... it's not going to be that easy."

Haltingly at first, but with growing confidence Trip told them about Admiral Singer's orders and how T'Pol had offered to stage his and Malcolm's escape. Aware of Malcolm's warnings, he mentioned very few details, despite the fact that they were using a secured channel. Usually, it wasn't customary with Starfleet or the Joint Forces to eavesdrop on their employees - at least that was what Malcolm had thought until a few hours ago. Now, however, he found that he didn't want to take any chances, one way or the other.

"We're going to take a shuttle into space," Trip said. "There's a planet not too far from here where we can seek asylum. But we're going to have to leave tonight."

Susan and Charles had grown pale while he talked. They never tried to interrupt him, but Malcolm noticed Charles' hands clenching to fists when Trip mentioned the part about the detention center. He could feel the anger radiating from the older man.

"They've gotta be outta their minds!" Charles shook his head. Two red stains had appeared on his pale cheeks. "There must be some way you can fight that decision. It can't be legal for any organization to... to brainwash their people, or send an innocent man off to prison."

"I agree, sir." Malcolm clasped his hands behind his back. "But they're planning to do it so quickly and quietly that no one will ever notice until it's too late. And I'm sure Admiral Singer is going to have a perfect explanation for everything once the media get hold of the matter. If they get hold of it, that is. I am quite certain that the Joint Forces have their ways of keeping things under wraps."

"You've gotta get goin'", Susan said quietly. Her face was calm, her voice trembling only slightly as she continued. "If there's nothin' you can do, then you need to leave right away. Don't take any chances by waitin' too long."

"We'll be leaving in a few hours," Trip said. "But... I won't be able to take my children along."

Both of his parents started badly at that. Susan swallowed before she spoke.

"You... have children, Trip?"

Trip nodded. "Two of them." Malcolm noticed that he was watching his parents very closely, as if everything depended on how they were going to react to that particular piece of news. Malcolm bit the inside of his lip, praying that Susan and Charles wouldn't say or do anything which might do irreparable damage before they even had the chance to establish a relationship with their son.

Another moment of silence followed, then, timidly, a smile began to form on Susan's face. "How old are they?"

"Sara is almost nine Earth years old," Trip said. "Sammy is four."

"Sara and Sammy," Susan repeated, and her smile gained confidence. "Those are beautiful names."

Charles nodded, but his eyes were worried as they rested on his son. "What about their mother? She with you?"

Trip shook his head. "She's dead," he said calmly. "She died several years ago."

His parents grew still for a moment. "I'm sorry," Susan said. "Your wife... was she... I mean..."

She left the sentence unfinished, but Trip understood. "She was human," he said. "And she wasn't my wife."

"Oh." A short silence followed, silence that seemed to stretch over more than several dozen light years of space. Malcolm read the unasked questions of a whole life time on Susan's face, questions that she was afraid of asking. You might not like the answers you'd get, he thought. There's a chance that you wouldn't even understand them. I myself had a hard time understanding some of the things he told me about.

It was Charles who finally spoke up again. "They can stay with us," he said, laying an arm around Susan's shoulders. "There's no way you're takin' them out into space. It's bad enough that you have to go."

Trip's mother shook off whatever thoughts had been bothering her. "A starship's no place for children, and we've got more than enough room. Of course they're stayin' with us."

Trip relaxed as if someone had taken a great weight off his shoulders. "Thank you. I... I had no idea what I was going to do if..."

"Nonsense, son," Charles interrupted him gently. "Don't worry. None of those JF people are gonna lay their hands on 'em. We'll see to it that they never get the chance."

"That's right," Susan said. "Is there any way you can get them here without anyone noticin'?"

"I believe so, ma'am." Malcolm joined the conversation again. "I'm sure Captain T'Pol will be able to arrange for a rendezvous with a Vulcan trading ship. They can go as fast as warp seven, and the children would be safely on Earth before JF Command even notices that they're gone."

"It's gonna be difficult for them," Susan said quietly. "I imagine you're very close to them, aren't you?" Of course, Trip's mother hadn't missed the look on her son's face when he talked about his children.

"I am," Trip said. "They've never been separated from me before. But I hope that Sara will understand. "

Susan nodded. "Where are the kids, anyway?"

"They're staying with Hoshi, a... a friend of mine." Trip paused. "Do you want me to get them?"

Charles shook his head. "Better talk to them first, and explain why you're leavin'. Wouldn't be the best start to introduce us and tell them at the same time that you're gonna send them away."

Susan nodded her assent. "Maybe your friend, Hoshi, can call us back in a few days when they've gotten used to the idea. I'd like to talk to them before we meet. That whole business of goin' away might be less frightenin' to them if they at least know who they're gonna be stayin' with."

If Trip had harbored any doubts about sending Sara and Sammy to stay with these people, Malcolm knew his parents' obvious concern had dispelled them. Charles and Susan seemed to think nothing of the fact that they were taking in a pair of kids they had never seen before; to them, it was the perfectly natural thing to do. Malcolm remembered his own grandparents, who had wanted nothing to do with the small, neglected boy after the authorities had taken him away from their alcoholic son-in-law. For them, the natural thing to do had been signing the forms that admitted Malcolm to the state-sponsored foster system.

You're lucky

, he thought, a little surprised at his own sentiments. "Family" had never been an important part of Malcolm's vocabulary, just another one of those empty words that were used in overly emotional moments when people didn't know what else to say. "Family" was the kind of thing some people had and some people didn't. Wishful thinking wouldn't get you anywhere. Maybe a somewhat cynical attitude, but Malcolm found that it worked for him.

Damn lucky

, his treacherous mind repeated, and Malcolm silenced the idea. It was no good thinking along those lines, and especially not now, when he had more pressing matters to focus on.

He watched as Trip thanked his parents and saw the tears reappear in their eyes when they said goodbye.

"You take care, son," Charles said, resting a hand on the monitor as if he could touch his son that way. "Take care, you hear me? Both of you."

Malcolm raised his eyes and saw Trip's mother smiling at both of them.

"And come back, okay? I want you to be home for my birthday, and I'm not gonna take no for an answer."

Resolutely, she swallowed her tears and continued. "You too, Malcolm... I can call you Malcolm, can't I?"

Malcolm nodded, at a loss for words. This was something he had not expected.

"Be careful," she said. "Both of you." Mirroring her husband's gesture, she laid a hand on the monitor. "Love ya, son."

A brief silence followed. Glancing at Trip, Malcolm saw that he was biting his lower lip, as if he wanted to say something and didn't quite dare to do so. When he did speak, it was so quietly that Malcolm had to strain his ears to understand him.

"I... I love you too." I think, Malcolm could almost hear him add in thought, not surprised at the slight hitch in his friend's tone. Trip was basically talking to people he couldn't remember ever seeing before in his life. "And... thank you for everything."

"Don't," Charles shook his head. "Just... be careful, son." He held Trip's eyes for a second, then pulled back his hand. "Goodbye, Trip. We'll see you soon."

Trip nodded, as if he had no doubts in the matter. "Goodbye," he said quietly, then cut the connection.

For a while, they sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. After a while, Trip spoke up again. "I believe it's time I tell the children."

Malcolm nodded. He could see that Trip wasn't looking forward to doing so, and remembered Susan's words. Let them get used to the idea.

Thinking of the fierce, desperate way the children loved their father, Malcolm doubted that this was an idea either of them would ever get used to.

"NO!"

Sara's face was a grimace of anger and tears. Her father reached out to pull her into a hug, but she pushed him away, her small hands clenched to fists.

"You said you weren't going to leave us! You promised!"

Malcolm's eyes fell on Sammy who was watching them, his eyes wide. The boy's face was like an open book. He hadn't really understood what his Daddy had been trying to tell them - something about going away and leaving them behind, but that couldn't be true, could it? But if it wasn't, then why was Sara crying and shouting like that?

Frightened, the little boy began to cry as well, and without thinking about it Malcolm picked him up and held him close.

"It's alright," he said soothingly. "Don't cry, Sammy."

The boy buried his face in Malcolm's shoulder, as if hiding could make the bad things go away.

"Sara, please listen to me..."

"No!" The girl was shaking with fury and despair, pushing her father's hands away. "You promised!"

She flung herself down on her bed, pulled the sheets over her head and turned to the wall. Trip's shoulders slumped as he stared at the sobbing bundle, looking almost as miserable as the child on the bed. Malcolm knew that father and daughter weren't used to arguing; for Trip's family, it had always been "us against the rest of the world", leaving no room for petty disagreements.

He watched as Trip carefully sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Sara."

There was no reaction. Trip laid a hand on the bundle of blankets.

"Sara, please. Look at me."

The blankets moved and Sara's ruffled head emerged, her face streaked with tears. "Leave me alone! I hate you!"

Her last few words were muffled, spoken with her face buried in the pillows. Trip flinched, but he never pulled his hand away. Instead, he gently tugged back the covers until he could look at the girl's face.

"Sara, I understand that you're upset. But I need you to listen to me. Please."

The only answer was another muffled sob.

"Sara, I don't want to go away. If there was any other way, I'd stay here. But I can't."

She raised her head. "But why? Why can't you stay?"

Trip sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Look, honey... there are some people back on Earth who are afraid that Malcolm and I know about things which could be bad for them. They ordered Captain T'Pol to lock us up, and if we go back to Earth, we'll be taken away to prison."

He exchanged a quick glance with Malcolm, a silent message that he wouldn't mention the brainwashing part in front of the children.

Sara's lips were trembling. "Are we... are Sammy and me going to be sold?"

"Oh Sara." Trip took the girl in his arms and this time she didn't try to fight him. "Of course not. Humans don't buy and sell people."

"But they're going to lock you up in prison," the girl insisted. "It's the same thing."

Can't argue with her there

, Malcolm thought. Sara's way of seeing through things could be scary at times.

Trip said nothing and kept rocking the girl until her sobs subsided.

"Daddy?" When Sara spoke again, her voice had regained some of its strength.

"Yes?"

"Why can't we go with you and Malcolm? There's enough room in the shuttle for the four of us."

On hearing the word "shuttle", Sammy raised his head. "Oh please Daddy, I wanna fly in the shuttle, too! Please!"

Trip smiled at the boy's enthusiasm. "No, pumpkin. You and Sara, you have to stay here."

Sara stiffened in his arms. "But why can't we go with you?"

Trip leaned back so he could look at her. "It would be too dangerous, honey. I want to make sure you'll be safe until Malcolm and I come back."

Sara said nothing, staring down at her hands. Trip continued gently.

"But I need your help here, honey. Enterprise will soon meet with a Vulcan ship that's going to take you and Sammy back to Earth. You'll be going on a journey all by yourself, and Sammy will need someone who looks after him. Do you think you can do that, Sara?"

She looked up at him, her expression solemn. "I... I think so, Daddy."

Trip drew her close. "I know I'm asking a lot of you, honey. But it's only a couple of weeks on the Vulcan ship, and once you're back on Earth you're going to stay with my... with my family. They'll be taking care of you and Sammy."

Sara's eyes widened. "Your family, Daddy?"

"That's right." Trip smiled at her. "My mother and father. Your grandparents. They live back on Earth."

Sara plucked at the sheets, digesting this information. "What if they don't want us to come and stay with them?" she asked then. "They don't even know us."

"No, they don't," Trip admitted. "But they want to meet you. I talked to them, and they promised me to look after you. You'll be safe with them."

Sara bit her lip. "But I want to stay with you, Daddy."

Trip stroked her hair. "I know, honey," he said quietly. "I know."

Sammy had kept quiet up until now, sucking his fingers as he listened, wide-eyed, to their conversation. Now, however, he began to squirm in Malcolm's arms.

"Daddy!"

Malcolm put him down and the boy sped across to his father, climbing into his lap and wiggling around until he was comfortable. Then he wrapped his arms around Trip's midst.

"I'm gonna stay with you, Daddy," he announced. "I'm not going back to Earth."

Trip pulled him closer. "I know you want to stay with me, partner," he said. "But Sara and you have to go back to Earth and wait there for me."

The boy considered this. "How far away is Earth?" he asked then.

"Quite far," Trip admitted. "But you're going to like it there, I promise. Your grandparents live in a nice, sunny place. You'll be able to play outside all day."

Sammy smiled at the prospect. "Really?"

Trip nodded. "Really."

Sammy leaned back against his father, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. Malcolm could see that the boy's mind was a thousand miles away, trying to file away the new information. The fact that his father was leaving didn't seem to worry him yet - not really, anyway - and it probably wouldn't until Sammy realized that Trip was actually gone. Then, however... Malcolm was glad it wasn't going to be him stuck with the unenviable task of explaining to the little boy why his Daddy had suddenly disappeared.

They sat there for another ten minutes, Trip holding his children as their eyes slowly began to droop. Before they fell asleep, however, he gently extricated himself from their grip and laid them down on their bed (the children still insisted on curling up together rather than sleeping in separate beds).

Sammy snuggled into his pillow and was instantly asleep. Trip kissed his cheek, then turned to Sara who gazed up at him with sleepy, brown eyes.

"Goodbye, honey." He tucked her in so that only her dark face was still visible. "Malcolm and I are going to leave now. I'll ask Hoshi to come by and check on you in the morning so you won't be on your own. Are you going to be okay?"

A tear escaped from the corner of her eye, but she quickly brushed it away. "Sure, Daddy." She smiled shakily and continued in a deep voice, obviously imitating someone: "We make a good team, don't we, old boy?"

Trip grinned at what was apparently an inside joke between them. "We sure do, boss."

Sara smiled again and closed her eyes, letting out a small sigh. Trip brushed away a stray lock that had fallen across her forehead.

"Goodnight, Sara. I'm proud of you."

After that, he quickly got up, not looking at Malcolm as he walked over to the door. Malcolm followed him outside only to see Trip leaning against the wall next to the door with his back turned to him. His shoulders were trembling. Malcolm said nothing and waited, acting as if he hadn't noticed when Trip brushed a hand over his eyes. After a while, Trip turned around again. His face was rigid, not giving away any emotions.

An awkward silence settled between them as they walked down the corridor. Several times, Malcolm opened his mouth to say something and closed it again, dismissing whatever words had come to his mind. When he finally did speak, however, what came out was not at all what he had intended to say.

"So what was that about the good team?"

Trip seemed surprised at first, then a faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, that. It's an old joke. Remember how I told you I sometimes tinkered around with the farm equipment?"

Malcolm nodded.

"Well, Ja'Lin - the Kareedian who ran the farm - didn't want anyone to think that he couldn't handle his own equipment. So whenever I did another repair job he would stand right next to me and pretend to give me instructions. Everyone knew he didn't know a thing about machines, but every time the thing was up and running again he'd clap me on the back and say what a good team we made together."

Malcolm grinned. They didn't speak as they continued their way down to the shuttle hangar, but the tension between them seemed to have eased. Malcolm briefly stopped at his quarters to collect a few personal items, and Trip used his console to leave a voice-recorded message for Hoshi, asking her if she could check on his children once in a while and see to it that they got their meals and did their schoolwork. Malcolm knew that it wasn't necessary - Sara and Sammy were very popular with the crew, and there would be more than enough willing babysitters handy if needed - but he said nothing. Hoshi would be happy that Trip had asked for her help, in particular, and the children seemed to be fond of her.

Entering the shuttle bay, Malcolm felt his earlier apprehension return. It had been there all along, buried under the surface as he watched Trip make his call and speak to his children. All of this was going so fast, time racing past him as he did what was necessary to prepare for their departure. And here he was, carrying a bag with clothes and hastily gathered personal things, like a teenager running away from home. Back at the foster home, he had sometimes fantasized about climbing out the window at night, leaving for the airport and taking the next shuttle to anywhere, even though he had known that he would never find the courage to actually do so. But he had imagined how it would feel, to leave everything behind. He had always envisaged it would be rather dramatic, as if he were the hero of a thriller - one of those guys who would steal a flitter and escape on the highway with the police in hot pursuit. Now, however, he couldn't find anything particularly thrilling about their escape. There was an emptiness in his chest when he looked around, and a dull, helpless anger that he would be forced to do this. As T'Pol had ordered, no one was here to witness their departure; even the crewman on duty had been released. It felt as if they were sneaking out, jumping at the opportunity when no one was looking. It didn't feel right.

To his surprise, he suddenly felt a hand on his arm. Malcolm half-turned around and saw Trip looking at him.

"We'll be back," Trip said firmly, as if trying to reassure himself and Malcolm at the same time. "Back in no time."

Malcolm nodded, unable to say anything else. Slowly, they walked over to Shuttlepod I, and with a hand that was only slightly trembling, Malcolm reached out to open the hatch.

TBC...

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