Author Notes: Here's the next chapter – thanks for all the reviews!

Chapter 5

Trip and Archer were trying to get to the Bridge, and failing miserably. All of the turbolifts had been shut down, forcing everyone to use the manual access. Finally, Trip found the right tube, and clambered up it. It was emergency access only, so when he reached the top, he ended up toppling out onto the floor in a very ungainly manner. Archer soon followed. Malcolm was tapping away on Ensign Mayweather's consol. Jon raised his phaser, but Trip stopped his arm, "Malcolm?"

Malcolm ignored him, continuing to input some data. Trip cautiously made his way towards his friend, "Mal? I wanna talk."

Malcolm shook his head, "Liar. Don't want to talk. Trick."

"No, I promise."

"Made promises before. Said you would stay."

Trip flinched, "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry. But please, step away from the consol."

Malcolm reached across, and suddenly, a planet appeared on the viewscreen. Malcolm smiled, "The sun will be rising."

Trip looked confused, but then his expression quickly turned to shock, "Captain? That's the planet we left." He turned to Archer, "What if we missed something? What if the planet made Malcolm sick?"

"You're grasping at straws, Trip. Malcolm isn't in his right mind."

Trip glared accusingly at his friend, "Could you live with yourself if you were wrong? 'Cause I sure as hell couldn't."

Jon closed his eyes and sighed in defeat, "Alright, Trip, I'll contact Starfleet, tell them our situation has changed."

00000

Yet another week had passed, and now the same away team that had landed on the planet two weeks ago had returned. On Trip's suggestion, and interpretation of Malcolm's seemingly random comments, they were landing by the ruins at sunrise. Both Hoshi and Archer were sceptical, and T'Pol was even worse, but thankfully she had remained aboard the Enterprise. Trip, however, was a natural optimist. Malcolm walked ahead. The past week had done him some good. At Trip's insistence, they had forgone the drugs, and instead Malcolm had stayed in sickbay with Phlox for company. He had calmed down considerably, especially happy that they were no longer returning to Earth.

Malcolm hopped up to sit on a fallen column, grinning as he let the warm glow of the rising sun wash over him. Trip smiled as he watched his friend. He knew he shouldn't be getting his hopes up, but he couldn't help it. As he approached, Malcolm laughed, "You walk slow."

Trip smiled in return, "Actually, you walk fast."

Archer and Hoshi came up to join them. Archer regarded Malcolm and Trip with what could only be described as pity, "So, what are we actually looking for?"

Malcolm rolled his eyes, "Always ask for the wrong answers. Not looking, seeing. Should open his eyes before he closes his mind."

Before Archer could ask Trip for a translation, Hoshi gasped, "Wow!"

The writing on the wall opposite them was shifting in the shadows created by the rising sun. The glyphs seemed to dance. Malcolm smiled, "See?"

He hopped off the column, and walked over to the wall. Crouching down, he grabbed a rock that seemed to be half covering something, "Sir?" Hoshi asked, "That's where my bag was; the one Malcolm had. I think there's a switch-"

Before she could finish, the wall shifted, and a doorway emerged, which Malcolm quite happily jumped through, "I guess the guys who used to live here were good with technology." Trip muttered.

They followed Malcolm into the darkness, down countless steps, until the reached a chamber. The whole room seemed to give off a sort of iridescent glow. In the centre of the chamber was its only feature – a low pedestal. Malcolm was sat against the far wall, waiting. Trip gazed around in awe, "Malcolm? What is this place?"

As soon as he had spoken, the door behind the four of them shut, and the pedestal glowed. A woman of alien origins appeared in the middle. She had a violet hue to her skin, and golden eyes like a cat's. Light ridges ran along her bare arms. She smiled, and spoke in English to them:

I am Shrala of the Reefar. If you are listening to this message, then we are long gone from this universe. I record this in the hope that we will not be forgotten; that we will live on past this long night, if only in memory.

A decade ago, my people made contact with a race known as Klingons. Although a violent race, they seemed willing to trade, until they found out about the Yeken plant. To our people, it is nothing, but to the Klingons, it turned out to be a powerful stimulant. They wanted our planet for their own from that day forth, tricking and murdering their way through our towns. This is the last free city of the Reefar.

In a last effort to preserve our memory, the knowledge of the Reefar was placed within the walls of this temple, to be released by a race compatible with ours. Now that our essence has been passed on, you are free to do with it what you will.

The hologram gestured to her left, where a small crystal appeared.

Touch the crystal, and all knowledge shall be passed into it. We are deeply regretful as to how this has had to happen, but it was essential to ensure that our memory was passed to a race unlike the Klingons, and the fact that you have returned here is testament to this fact. We hope that you will not hold the experience against us. May you live on, in the light.

The hologram winked out. "Holy crap." Trip couldn't think of putting it any other way.

Malcolm stood, and walked slowly to where the woman had been, tears flowing down his cheeks, "Took a shot to the brain. Made it go squish. Didn't want to see the city burn in the night."

Archer looked at Hoshi, "Could it be a trap?"

"The crystal? Honestly, sir, what would they have to gain?"

Trip shrugged, "We have to try." He moved over to Malcolm, "Mal? Can you do something for me? I want you to pick up that crystal over there."

Malcolm frowned, "Old. Very old."

"Yeah. Will you do it?"

Slowly, Malcolm padded over to the crystal, and crouched down to look at it. In one swift motion, he snatched it up and stood. "Cold."

Suddenly, the crystal started to glow, brighter and brighter, and then it stopped. Malcolm's eyes rolled back into his head, and he would have collapsed to the floor had Trip and Archer not caught him. Hoshi bent down and picked up the crystal from the floor, pocketing it. The door to the chamber slid open. Throwing Malcolm's arm around his shoulder, Trip nodded towards the exit, "Let's go."

00000

"How are you feeling?" Trip looked up as Archer came up behind him. It was two days since Malcolm had collapsed in the temple, and he had still not awakened.

Trip sighed, "I'm alright. I'll feel better when he's awake though; can't sleep. I just keep seeing what he did. How's Hoshi doing with the crystal?"

"She thinks we should take it back to Earth. The technology is incompatible with ours and she thinks someone back home might have more luck."

Trip sighed, "I think it's better left alone."

Archer frowned, "There might be the cure for all diseases on it."

"Yeah, there also might be the formula for making the Klingon Happy Drug. I just want this whole thing to be over – I've never seen Malcolm look this bad." He scrubbed his face, "I still don't get it. I mean, the Klingons are all conquer and build an empire, but I can't see them destroying a civilisation for a drug."

Archer shook his head, "I had T'Pol show me the records in the Vulcan database. Apparently, Klingons were even worse in the early years, just like Vulcans. It said that the Klingon council, as they grew, ordered the planet a red zone, and the drug banned. It's a huge black spot in their history."

Trip rolled his eyes, "Figures." They sat in silence for a long while, until Archer had to return to the bridge. Trip still had an hour before he had to go back on duty, so he stayed. It was strange, but he felt entirely responsible for Malcolm. When the whole schizophrenia thing had come to light, Trip had been around the most, and, scarily, had actually understood what Malcolm had meant most of the time. The base of the matter was that Malcolm was his friend. However cold and unfriendly Malcolm had seemed in the early days, he was a good person, and did not deserve what life tended to throw at him. Although it was an odd friendship, their personalities fitted – as Malcolm had once said, he blew things up, and Trip fixed them, and right now, that applied to their situation perfectly.

A small movement caught Trip's attention. Sure enough, two slits of blue had surfaced, regarding him quietly. Trip smiled, "Hey, how're you feeling?"

Malcolm's muscles tensed, and he pulled himself up into a sitting position. He continued to stare at Trip with what appeared to be growing apprehension. Trip's smile turned to a frown, and he reached out to touch Malcolm's shoulder, only to be jerked away from. There was only one way to describe Malcolm's expression now – scared. Worried that Malcolm's mental state hadn't changed, Trip hollered for Phlox, but the volume of his voice only made Malcolm jump, and then draw his knees up into a protective huddle.

The Denobulan ship's doctor hurried out into the main sickbay, surprised to see Malcolm awake, "Lieutenant, it's good to see you up. How are you feeling?"

If Trip wasn't so worried, he would have laughed at the over-use of that phrase in the last few days, "He hasn't said anything."

Phlox allowed a momentary frown to cross his features before his smile returned, "Well let's conduct a few tests then, shall we?"

After an hour of test after test, Phlox had called Archer and Trip for the results out of Malcolm's hearing. Trip waited, "Well?"

Phlox sighed, "There is nothing physically wrong with him…"

Trip held up a finger, "I am not getting this speech again! That hologram said it'd fix everything dammit!"

Phlox nodded, "And it has. It is Lieutenant Reed's own mind that is causing his lack of speech, for that is all I can find wrong."

Archer frowned, "Why would he do that?"

Phlox shook his head, "It is not something that has been consciously done. It is my belief that Mr Reed can remember everything of the past few weeks, and as such, his mind is struggling to cope – especially with the incident in Engineering." He shrugged, "That is the most plausible theory I can surmise."

Trip leaned back against a bulkhead, leaning his head back, "I thought this was over. Is it permanent?"

"It is impossible to say. If someone can help Lieutenant Reed to confront what has happened, it may aid his recovery-"

Trip's head jerked up, "'Someone'? We can't send him to a damn mental ward now! He's sane; he just needs us – not some white walls and a shrink!"

Phlox shook his head, "He needs professional help-"

"I can't believe we're actually having this conversation again!"

Archer nodded, "I agree with Trip. I'm not prepared to have Malcolm committed. He isn't a danger."

Phlox sighed, "Very well, but I warn you, cases like this are not known for their success stories."

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: I was going to finish things in this chapter, but then my beta reminded me of an idea that I had concerning this story months ago which I had forgotten, and as I wasn't happy with the original ending to this chapter, I decided to go with it. So please review, and I'll try and write more!