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T'Pol and Trip were sitting in Archer's Ready Room. Trip was slumped on the sofa. T'Pol was sitting up right in a nearby chair. They are discussing the attack on the Andorians, and the damage to Enterprise in an attempt to distract themselves from thoughts of Captain Archer.

"We should have hull plating repaired infour hours," reported Trip. "You decided not to pursue the Orions?"

"We have no quarrel with them," answered T'Pol. "They did not attack us until we came to the aid of the Andorians. I see no logic in provoking them further." Trip shrugged and nodded in agreement. "I don't think that Captain Archer would want us to jeopardize relations with them," continued T'Pol.

"Do the Andorians have any idea what the Orions were after?" asked Trip.

"They did not elaborate, but did indicate they intended to pursue the offending ship," answered T'Pol. The door chime cut into their conversation. T'Pol called out "Enter."

Dr. Phlox entered the room. T'Pol and Trip both jumped up. Dread knocked at the back of T'Pol's mind as she saw the grave look on Phlox's face. His hair was disheveled and he looked uncharacteristically tired and concerned.

"How is he doing?" Trip asked quietly, afraid of the answer.

"He has suffered numerous injuries. A cracked femur, and three broken ribs, which caused his right lung to collapse. Third degree burns on the left side of his face and left hand. He has lost a lot of blood due to the laceration on his right side. He has a mild concussion. All of which are actually relatively simple to treat." Phlox paused. Looking down at the floor, he seemed lost in thought. T'Pol fiercely fought back the feeling of panic that threatened to boil up in her. Her only outward sign was a long slow blink.

"But," Trip prompted.

"But… his condition is very grave," Phlox continued. Trip slumped backonto his seat, still staring at Phlox. "The Captain was exposed to a great deal of radiation. Many of his internal organs have been damaged. In his weakened condition, I can regenerate only so much tissue at a time." Trip dropped his head into his hands. "The next 48 hours will be critical," Phlox continued miserably. "If he remains stable, then I can continue to treat his injuries. But if his condition continues to deteriorate….." There was a long, silent pause.

"Thank you for the update, Doctor," T'Pol said with no emotion in her voice, but worry clearly in her eyes. Trip continued to stare at the floor without saying anything.

Phlox glanced from T'Pol to Trip. "I'll let you know if there is any change." Then he turned and left the room.

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Trip was sitting at Archer's bedside. The lights were dimmed, making the medical consoles seem brighter. There was an oxygen tube in Archer's nose, and an IV hanging at his head. The burns on his face and hand were covered by bandages. The blanket came only partially up his bare chest exposing the bandage on his right side.

Trip was unsuccessfully trying to work on a PADD. But he kept glancing at his friend. He got up and paced a little. His thoughts drifted back to one of their earlier missions. Smiling slightly, he remembered how the Ferengi had the Captain loading their "loot" onto their ship. "It was a wonder that goofy species managed to turn a profit at all," he thought to himself.

"Hey." A weak rasp caused Trip to turn quickly back to Archer's bed. "Don't my senior officers have anything better to do than just sit around?"

Trip was glad to see his friend conscious. But, concern still etched Trip's face. Phlox told him that Archer had been drifting in and out of consciousness, but that his physical condition had not improved.

"Can't be much to do if the Captain can spend all his time lying around," countered Trip, trying to sound light.

Archer closed his eyes and smiled. After a few moments he opened his eyes again. "How is Shran?" Archer asked weakly.

"Shran got off better than you. T'Pol spoke with his first officer. Apparently, Shran is recovering in sick bay. We are helping them with their repairs. They should have warp by tomorrow, " answered Trip.

"I don't like people talking about me behind my back, Pink Skin!" Shran pulled back the curtain around Archer's bed and strode in. Even with a heavy limp, he still managed to swagger.

"Shran!" exclaimed Trip. "I didn't know you were aboard."

"I came here the minute I boarded. Well, look at you Pink Skin," Shran said addressing Archer. "You just can't seem to stay out of trouble." Shran surveyed Archer with concern. "I told you to get off of the Bridge. Why did you come back for me? I was just fine."

"To hell you were. Besides, I couldn't miss a chance to be one up on you!" Archer was smiling but his voice was weak.

With one eye closed, Shran glared at Archer. He hated being in debt to Archer. But he also appreciated the joke. "You look like a Murakia chewed you up and spit out," Shran retorted gently.

"What do you think the Orions were after?" asked Archer.

"Who knows what those pirates wanted," declared Shran. "They may have been trying to disrupt the negotiations. Peace does not suit everyone. When I get my hands on those dirty, nucrea loving…."

He was cut off by Archer's painful coughing. Phlox appeared by Archer's side. He quickly put a mask over Archer's mouth and nose. He injected a pink gas into the mask. "Just relax and try to breath deeply, " Phlox urged.

At first Archer resisted and tried to pull the mask off. Then he relaxed as the coughing subsided. "I think that it is time for the Captain to get some rest," Phlox said gently, looking at Shran and Trip.

"I will be back tomorrow," said Shran patting Archer on the shoulder. Archer turned to Shran, smiled briefly through the mask, and then closed his eyes. Trip and Shran both left as Phlox gave Archer a hypospray.

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T'Pol was sitting in Archer's Ready Room attempting to work at the console, but she was having trouble concentrating. The image of Archer lying on the gurney kept intruding on her thoughts. His pain had been almost palpable to her. Somehow she had not expected his injuries to be quite so severe.

She had just finished speaking with Shran. He had told her how the bridge of his ship was severely damaged during the attack. Shran had ordered the evacuation of the bridge and was hanging behind to ensure everyone got off safely, when another explosion knocked him off his feet. He as OK, but Archer had rushed back to help him. As Archer was lifting him off of a console, the console exploded in their faces. The next thing he remembered was waking up in his Sickbay.

Just like the Captain, T'Pol thought to herself. Always wanting to help. Never thinking of the consequences to himself. From the very first mission she thought this tendency of his would get him in trouble. He had chosen the illogical path countless times due to this ridiculous inclination. Now look what it has gotten him, she thought in frustration. She knew her anger was a substitute for worry. In reality, this was one of the qualities that had persuaded her to stay on after that first mission, so many years ago.

The door chime broke into her thoughts. "Enter," she said quickly pulling her composure together. Hoshi entered the room carrying a PADD.

"Here are the results of the scans that that you asked for", said Hoshi handing the PADD to T'Pol.

"Thank you, Ensign," said T'Pol. "Is there anything else?" she asked when she noticed Hoshi hesitating.

" I checked on Captain Archer during my last break" Hoshi said.

"How is he?" T'Pol asked dreading the answer.

"Well, Phlox gave his standard answer. That his condition was stable and we just had to wait and see. But I got the impression that Phlox was not happy with the Captain's progress," Hoshi said.

T'Pol did not say anything. Only a tightening around her mouth hinted at her dismay at hearing the news.

"But the Captain was awake. He told me to get some rest. That I looked like hell." Hoshi smiled. "Just like the Captain. More worried about me than himself. I guess he didn't wake up when you were there."

I...haven't had time to go to Sickbay, yet, " answered T'Pol.

"He was worried about you, too," said Hoshi, still smiling.

"Me?" asked T'Pol, surprised.

"He was worried that you hadn't found the latest duty roster," Hoshi said. "He thinks this ship will fall apart without him."

"Indeed," agreed T'Pol absently.

But Hoshi was not looking at T'Pol anymore. "I remember when my Grandmother got sick. I hated visiting her in the hospital. She was a strong, vibrant person and I hated seeing her lying in that bed, all weak and frail. It was during Academy exams and I was suppose to go see her. But I was really worried about passing Stellar Navigation, so I decided to study instead. She died that night. I didn't get to see her one last time."

Hoshi shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm rambling. I should have the translation of the Orion transmissions complete by end of shift tomorrow," she finished more formally. She turned and left.

T'Pol stared at the closed door for a long time.