Walk in the Dark
By Drogna
Chapter 4
AN: I'm moving house tomorrow so there will be a hiatus while that happens and I get my net connection back. I wanted to post this before then so it is un-beta-ed, all mistakes are my own.
It had taken a little time to get Trip sorted out in sickbay after their return from Arktos. By the time Phlox had taken blood and analysed the results, Trip was almost asleep on a biobed. Archer had remained with his friend to keep Trip occupied and to make sure that he didn't try to escape. He watched as Phlox loaded hyposprays and injected their contents into Trip's bloodstream. Then Phlox took care of the sprained wrist, fitting it with an firm, but elastic, bandage.
"I'm already giving you anti-inflammatory drugs for your CS so that should be all you need for the injury to heal. I expect it will take a couple of weeks but we'll see how you do. That's all for today but I think we should consider a brace for your left leg if this weakness persists."
"A brace?" yawned Trip. "Can I hide it under my uniform?" He was still worried that the crew would find out that their Chief Engineer was ill. Trip had mostly given up fighting Phlox on treatment options because he knew that Phlox's medicine was all that stood between him and a disability discharge. He'd sighed when Phlox had presented him with another hypospray for dizziness but that was more because he didn't want to have to remember more medication.
"I'm sure that will be possible."
"Let me think about it," said Trip. "I don't want to get a brace until I absolutely have to." Getting a brace really felt as if he was giving in to the CS. It was an indication that the illness was winning.
Archer accompanied Trip back to his quarters after Phlox had dismissed him with orders to rest. The dizziness was bothering him again and Archer occasionally had to put out a hand to steady his friend.
"Can I get you anything?" asked Archer, once Trip was sitting on his bed looking tired.
"I think I'm just going to sleep," said Trip, pulling off his t-shirt.
"You should at least drink some water," pointed out Archer.
Trip nodded and made to get up.
"Stay where you are, I'll get it," said Archer and headed into Trip's bathroom.
He found a glass in Trip's bathroom cabinet. Archer thought that the cabinet itself looked like it was an extension of Phlox's sickbay. Archer noted that the many hyposprays had individual paper sticky labels stuck to them with names inscribed on them in Trip's scrawling handwriting. Taped to the wall was a complicated chart of what he had to take and when, a ruled grid of drug names against times and dosages. The cold reality of dealing with terminal illness.
Archer filled the glass with water, returned to the main room and handed it to Trip.
"I'm in trouble, aren't I?" said Trip as Archer gave him the glass.
"No, not trouble, I just wish you'd take better care of yourself. You know you're pretty much fine when you take your medication properly, and get plenty of rest, so why do you do these things?"
"It's a big adjustment for me, you know. When Phlox first told me that I had CS, I promised myself that I wasn't going to give in and let it rule my life. I'm used to working eighteen hour days and surviving on six hours of sleep, it's just how I've always lived."
"Acknowledging that you have to slow down, isn't giving in. You physically can't do it. It's time to admit that you have a serious illness."
Trip hung his head. "Yeah, I guess it is."
"I want you to see someone," said Archer.
"Someone?"
"A professional. You're not coping, Trip."
"You think I'm going crazy?"
"No, I just think you need more help with this than we can give you."
"Phlox is doing just fine."
"He's dealing with your symptoms, yes, but you don't talk to anyone about how you feel. This has got to be causing you a lot of stress."
"I'm dealing with it," replied Trip, tersely. "It's not affecting my work."
"Not yet. I discussed this with Phlox and he agrees. I've arranged for you to talk on subspace to someone at Starfleet Medical's psychology staff." Archer could tell that Trip was getting angry about being backed into a corner like this, but he couldn't think of any other way for his friend to get the help he obviously needed.
"Is this a condition of me staying on Enterprise?"
"If it has to be, but I'd rather you did it because I'm asking you to."
"You're not giving me a lot of choice here," said Trip. "When do I talk to this person?"
"I've set up your first appointment for a couple of days time. I think you'll like her."
"Her?"
"Her," replied Archer with a smile.
"I don't know what you want me to talk about," started Trip.
"Whatever you like," replied the too young looking woman in front of him on the screen. Her name was Lieutenant Catherine Francis and she was supposedly an expert in thanatological psychology, or the psychology of death, grief and dying. They had already discussed her qualifications for talking to him and Trip couldn't fault her on her credentials. She'd helped numerous Starfleet officers over several years at Starfleet Medical and was one of the top researchers in her field. However, she did seem far too young to be talking about such morbid subjects as dying from terminal disease.
"I'm coping fine," said Trip. "I don't need to talk to some shrink to work through this."
"You don't have any problems with being diagnosed with Clarke's Syndrome?"
"Of course I have problems. I'm dying. I'm going to lose my job because I'm sick and then I'm going to lose my life. It's not going to be pretty, either. I guess the only thing is that I probably won't know who I am by the time I get sick enough to die."
"Does that scare you?"
"Yeah, it scares the hell out of me, but it's a long way down the road," said Trip.
"Two years isn't that far away and it may be less before you have to leave Enterprise," said Catherine.
"Don't you ever get fed up of talking to people about how they're going to die?" asked Trip, trying to get away from an area he really didn't want to talk about.
"If I can help people come to terms with their illness and live the best life they can for the time they have left then I have made someone's life better."
"And I bet you get a lot of research papers out of people like me," said Trip sarcastically.
"I do write research papers, but they help other psychologists to help people and I never include anyone in my research without getting their permission," said Catherine.
"If the Captain hadn't asked me to talk to you then I wouldn't even be here."
"You have friends who worry about you."
"Yeah. I wish I knew why," said Trip.
"Because of who you are. You're a good man, someone that they value and respect," said Catherine.
"Maybe that's true and maybe it isn't. It doesn't change the fact that I'm dying," said Trip. "They can worry all they want and it won't make a damn bit of difference."
"Except to them," replied Catherine. "They want to help you with this but you shut them out. Why don't you want to talk to me?"
"Talking won't help me. It changes nothing. I keep telling people that I'm fine, but they don't listen."
"They don't listen because you're not very convincing," said Catherine.
Trip laughed. "You're good."
"I've had a lot of practice. Have you ever cried because of your diagnosis?"
"No. Why would I cry? I'm not sad, I'm angry. It pisses me off. I had plans, and now I'm sick, and the Captain wants me to slow down and everyone keeps expecting me to bare my soul. I don't want to cry, I want to shout and scream at how unfair the whole damn thing is."
"So why haven't you?"
"It wouldn't accomplish anything."
"Why don't you try it and find out?"
"If this some kind of therapy, you can forget it, because I'm not going to scream at you over subspace," said Trip, with a half smile.
"I'm not saying now, I'm just suggesting that you don't bottle up your feelings. You need an outlet. If you want to shout at me, then I'm fine with that."
"Maybe another time," said Trip.
Catherine looked as if she realised that this wasn't progressing anything. "I know that your Captain suggested these sessions, but I can't help you if you won't talk to me."
"You seem like you're a nice person and I know the Captain picked someone that he thought that I would open up to, but really you're wasting your time on me. I'm fine. I've got a lot of friends here and they're all watching out for me."
"But being on Enterprise isn't what is scaring you. I get the feeling that you're more worried about what happens when you have to leave. You've already told me that you don't want to lose your job. What are you going to do when you have to leave Enterprise and your friends behind?"
Trip took a deep breath. "I don't know. I guess I hadn't thought that far."
All his efforts had been focussed on staying on Enterprise and he hadn't really gone past that. Maybe it was time he did that and stopped ignoring the facts of his situation. Catherine offered her help with anything practical that he might need support in and they agreed a time for his next session before he signed off, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He stared at the blank screen and realised that he had a lot to contemplate and resolve. Thoughts kept going around his head about what Clarke's Syndrome meant for him and everything he'd been pushing down within him bubbled up to the surface. In the end, out of everything, it was the thought of leaving Enterprise for good that made him cry, and he never would have believed that of himself if it hadn't happened.
Trip held out for a whole month before he let Phlox fit the leg brace. By that point the muscles in his leg had become considerably weaker despite his physiotherapy sessions. Physiotherapy had been just another regular part of his day for some time now. Lieutenant Reed would accompany him to the gym and they would go through the exercises. Phlox had put together a program for him that was supposed to maximise the strength that he had and help to maintain his muscles. The problem was that they never made any progress, everything was just forestalling the inevitable. The times when he'd had to endure physiotherapy before, there had always been gradual improvement, every session he would be able to do more with the affected limb. Now he was fighting to stay still. No matter how hard he worked, he never improved, only got worse or remained the same.
Trip hid the limp he had started to develop, but it was becoming increasingly obvious that something was wrong. Eventually Archer asked for his permission to tell the rest of the crew that he was ill and Trip had no choice but to give it. The department heads were briefed and told to tell their crewmembers. The information being given was minimal. It explained that Trip had Clarke's Syndrome but Phlox was controlling the symptoms. Apart from some minimal allowances regarding the Commander's working hours, everything else would remain the same, but Trip would eventually be leaving Enterprise.
In some ways everyone knowing what was going on was good. It meant that he could schedule his physiotherapy sessions at more sociable hours, he didn't have to worry about hiding his symptoms or find excuses for his frequent sickbay visits. It did make him feel very self-conscious, knowing that the rumour mill was working and spinning out tales about him. There were also a few awkward moments with crew who didn't exactly know how to react around him. A couple of members of his Engineering staff had attempted to do things for him and been growled at for their trouble. After that everyone in Engineering realised that it was business as usual.
Trip was working on a refinement to the warp field when he received a call to come to the bridge. Enterprise had picked up a distress signal about an hour ago, and changed course to try to find it's origin when no one answered their hails.
"The distress signal is emanating from a crashed craft on the surface of the third planet in the system," said T'Pol to the assembled officers. They stood in the situation room around the table-top display.
"Anyone we know?" asked Trip.
"The ship type is not present in the database," replied T'Pol. "They have sustained extensive damage but I am detecting life signs. From the condition of the craft I believe the crash is recent."
"How recent?" asked Archer.
"Less than twelve hours," replied T'Pol.
"Is there any evidence of weapons fire or other ships in the area?" asked Reed.
"Not that I was able to detect," said T'Pol.
"I've tried every frequency and language that I can think of, but they're not answering," added Hoshi. "Either their radio's broken or they just don't want to talk to us."
Archer nodded. "Let's send down an away team, see if we can lend a hand and make some new friends. T'Pol, Trip and Malcolm, you're the away team. Take Phlox and two of the MACOs with you."
"Yes, sir," replied the three officers before leaving the bridge to get their gear together for the away mission.
They took Shuttlepod One down to the surface. The mystery ship still wasn't answering their attempts to communicate with it. They landed the pod as near as they could get to the crash site and disembarked. They weren't taking any chances and all of the officers were armed.
The ground resembled a rocky shoreline without the sea and was difficult to walk over. They approached the downed ship cautiously. T'Pol detected life signs and the occupants should have heard the shuttle landing but so far no one had come out to meet them.
"What do you think?" asked Trip.
"Either they're shy or they're too badly wounded to move around," said Reed.
"I guess we have to go and knock on the door," said Trip.
"We should approach with caution," said T'Pol.
"Agreed, something doesn't feel right," said Reed. "I'll take point."
Reed moved to the front of the group, looking around him. They reached the ship and found the hatch open.
"That's convenient," said Trip.
"Or a trap," replied Reed.
"I assure you that we're very pleased to see you," said an echoing voice. "You are welcome to enter our ship."
"Identify yourself," said T'Pol as she stepped inside.
"I am Captain Lo Pico of the Theran ship Dionas." A humanoid figure stepped out of the shadows.
"I am Commander T'Pol of the Earth ship Enterprise, we have come in response to your distress call. Do you have wounded? We brought our ship's doctor."
"Yes, a number of my crew are injured," said Lo Pico. "If you would follow me, I'll take you to them."
Reed put a hand on T'Pol's arm as she was about to follow the alien Captain. "Are you sure about this?"
"No, but we came to render aid, we should at least attempt to do so," said T'Pol.
"She has a point," said Trip.
"If there are wounded then it's my duty to treat them," added Phlox.
Reed sighed, shaking his head. T'Pol simply turned and led the way down the corridor. Trip pushed past her and caught up with the Captain.
"I'm Commander Tucker, Chief Engineer of Enterprise. Have you any idea what brought you down?"
"We currently don't know what the malfunction was that forced us to land, however my crew are working on that."
"Maybe I can take a look and see if we can get you back in the air."
"That would be most helpful and appreciated," said the Captain. He led the Enterprise team into a more open area of the ship where several injured alien crewmembers lay on obviously makeshift beds. They were being tended to by other members of the crew.
"You certainly look as if you need my services," said Phlox.
"Indeed we do, doctor. Your arrival was most fortuitous," said Lo Pico.
The Captain introduced Phlox to the ship's doctor and before long the two were comparing notes on the treatment of the casualties. Then the ship's Engineer was summoned and he accompanied Trip to their engine room, Reed following behind them looking worried. He couldn't have told anyone why he was so jumpy if they had asked, but he had a distinct feeling that something was wrong. There was a smell to the air that he couldn't place, but it screamed trouble to him.
"So you any closer to working out why you crashed?" Trip asked the Engineer as they entered the engine room. There was evidence of fire and explosions around the engine, and there seemed to be considerable damage. The question which Trip was eager to answer was how much of the damage was superficial and how much was serious.
"Well I think we had an overload in the auxiliary drive loops," said the Engineer.
"Why don't you show me and I'll have a better idea of how the system fits together," said Trip.
Reed watched as Trip was shown around the rather battered looking engine. His friend was already engrossed in the problem and that meant Reed had to be on his guard for the two of them. Once Trip got stuck into his work he was completely focussed. Reed was happy to pass Trip tools and continue to keep one eye on his surroundings.
"So what do you make of this?" asked Reed to his friend who was lying on his back under a warp coil assembly.
"These are some weird malfunctions, that's for sure," said Trip, as he unscrewed a component. He handed it to Reed for the Armoury officer to inspect as well. "Look at the carbon scoring on this, it almost reminds me of…"
"Weapons fire," finished Reed. Trips eyes widened at Reed's confirmation of his guess. Reed wondered why he hadn't seen it before. All around the engine room there was evidence of weapons fire. Some of it was covered by the damage from the crash but now he knew what to look for it leapt out at him. There had definitely been a battle in the engine room of this ship.
"Why would there be weapons fire down here? We didn't detect any other ships in this area," said Trip.
"No and they didn't say anything about being boarded. It makes me wonder about the Captain's credentials," said Reed.
"You're saying they're mutineers?" Trip looked worried.
"Can you think of any other reason to fire weapons on a ship? I think we need to go and talk to T'Pol." Reed got up from his position crouched on the floor beside Trip and then offered a hand to his friend. Reed automatically steadied Trip as he regained his feet, he'd worked out a while ago that sudden moves often increased the dizziness Trip felt. As expected Trip wavered slightly but the supporting hand from Reed was enough to steady him.
"We're just going to go and have a word with our Commanding Officer," said Trip to the Engineer by way of explanation. "I think we might have a part like this back on Enterprise."
The Engineer didn't seem bothered about them leaving Engineering which made Reed wonder if they'd got it wrong completely, or perhaps he just didn't realise what they could infer from the charred engine part. They were able to find their way back to the main room of the ship and locate T'Pol without incident. She was assessing the supplies situation and comparing it to what Enterprise might have to spare. Phlox was still treating wounded and being assisted by the two MACOs.
Reed quietly reported his findings to T'Pol with Trip backing him up on the technical details.
"If it is the case that there was a mutiny on board this ship, then the injuries sustained should also reflect that." T'Pol managed to catch Phlox's eye and indicate for him to join them.
Phlox listened to their concerns and thought for a moment before speaking. "Certainly if this was just down to an engine malfunction I would expect more shrapnel injuries, but the majority of patients here are suffering from energy burns. It is quite possible, in fact likely, that they were caused by weapons fire. My apologies, I should have realised this earlier."
"That's okay, Doc, you've got a lot of patients and I expect you're more worried about treating their injuries than how they got them," said Trip.
"The question is, what do we do?" asked Reed.
"We make our excuses politely and leave," said T'Pol. "Once we are back on Enterprise we can consult with the Captain on how we proceed from here."
"You will not be leaving," said a voice behind them. The four officers turned to find their exit cut off by several aliens holding guns. Trip recognised the engineer he had been working with as one of them, and Captain Lo Pico was at the front of the group. "From your conversation I can tell that you've guessed our secret."
"You are not the legitimate Captain of this vessel," stated T'Pol.
"I am now," replied Lo Pico. "Although maybe Captain Tau might disagree with me, considering how we took this ship. I can assure you that he was not worthy to be Captain and if he had handed over command rather than trying to hold on to it we would not have crashed."
"Captain, the engine is irreparably damaged," said the engineer.
"The hell it is," said Trip.
"I see what you're getting at, Engineer Mot Wa. They have a perfectly good ship and we have six hostages. They can be exchanged for parts or even the whole ship."
"Captain Archer will never agree to that," said T'Pol.
"He might if I start killing you one by one," said Lo Pico. "For now, lock them in the brig. Apart from the Doctor and the Engineer they can still be of use."
Trip and Phlox were separated from the group at gun-point before the other Enterprise officers were roughly herded to the brig.