Three Days Too Die
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek: Enterprise or any of their characters.
A/N: So, so sorry that it has take so long! I've had work, college...excuse, excuse, excuse...
Thank you all for your patience & reviews! I hope you enjoy chapter 4!
C.S.T.O. Luke Mitchel grunted with the effort of pushing the lever down that would manually open the door to Commander Tucker's quarters. The gravity, or lack thereof, was making the task extremely difficult. He and his men had to hold on to the walls until it kicked back in, then they would rush back to the door and get as many hands on the lever to push it down as they could.
The lever was stiff from lack of use and didn't want to budge. Finally, there was a loud crack and the lever was pushed into the open position. Mitchel and his team sighed in relief before grabbing the side of the door and pushing it open. It had been five long minutes since the Captain had told them Commander Tucker needed immediate medical attention.
The Captain and Sub-commander T'Pol blocked the view of Commander Tucker from the door. But they both moved aside when Mitchel's men hurriedly moved to transfer Commander Tucker to the gurney before the gravity went offline again.
"How is he, Captain?" Mitchel asked as he watched them rush an extremely pale and flushed Commander Tucker out of the room after quickly strapping him to the gurney. T'Pol grabbed the container of salve and rushed to follow them out of the room. "Not good. The seizure didn't last long, but he's delirious and his fever hasn't gone down. Phlox should be able to figure out what's causing this." Archer said as he rubbed his face wearily before following T'Pol out of the room.
Walking faster, as S.T.O. transferred Trip to Sickbay, Archer looked over at C.S.T.O. Mitchel who was following him at a brisk pace. "What time is it?" He asked.
"It's zero three hundred Captain." Mitchel replied, noting the absolute weariness on the Captain's face. "Zero three hundred?! When did the aliens finally back off?"
"A little over an hour ago. From what we can gather they were pirates or traders of some kind, they mistook a signal we sent out to be a distress signal and thought we would be easy pickings. Their first assaults were successful in delaying our response and they got bolder. Gradually upping their assault, they finally realized we were perfectly capable of holding our own and that we weren't backing down, I guess that was enough to cause them to double think their attack."
Shaking his head, Archer watched as they rushed Trip into Sickbay and Phlox took over. His relief over finally getting out of Trip's quarters and into Phlox's capable hands only made him more aware of how exhausted he was. He noticed that T'Pol was standing off to the side, watching as Phlox began his tests and administered anti-seizure medicine, with an emotionless stare frozen on her face. He couldn't believe that he had been blind to the connection she and Trip shared.
Archer's attention was jerked back to Trip when his best friend groaned loudly and Phlox moved to look in his eyes. "Can you tell me your name?" Phlox asked, Archer waited anxiously as Trip struggled to understand the question. Groaning, Trip closed his eyes again before whispering "T-tr-i-ip". Phlox visibly relaxed, willing to accept the nickname as a legit answer, and gave an encouraging smile in T'Pol's direction.
"Just relax Commander, I am running tests now. They should tell us what is causing your sudden seizures and other symptoms." Phlox said as he carefully began to examine Trip's scratches. Trip gave a faint nod, not quite understanding what Phlox had said, but perceiving that they were doing all they could and he was safe for the moment.
"I won't get the test results for another half-hour, Captain. I may also desire to run the tests again for clarity. Perhaps it would be best if you and T'Pol attempted to get some sleep. I will examine the results of the test and take care of Commander Tucker. You may return once you have received at least three hours of sleep." Phlox said, coming to stand in front of Archer.
Wearily, Archer looked at Trip. He didn't want to leave his friends side, but he knew that Trip was in capable hands, he himself needed some sleep, and as Captain he had other duties he would have to attend to. "Let me know if his condition chances. I'll check in around ten hundred hours." With that he turned to leave, he needed to check in at the Bridge and then he was going to grab some shut eye before he was needed again.
T'Pol stepped forward from where she had been standing off to the side. "I am going to stay here. I have no pressing duties to attend to."
"Sub-commander, it is almost zero three thirty. I believe that it is in your best interest to sleep for a solid three hours, if not more. I will take care of the Commander until you return to check on him." T'Pol opened her mouth to protest when Phlox placed a hand on her shoulder and began walking towards the door.
"It is best. He will be fine. I don't want to see you until after zero six hundred, am I understood Sub-commander?" Phlox looked at her sternly, obviously prepared to battle his logic against hers.
"Understood Doctor. But I will be back." She said with a resigned sigh. Despite her desire to stay with Trip she knew that Phlox was right. She needed to meditate and clear her mind, she needed to deal with these obnoxious human emotions that were trying to invade her Vulcan composure.
Nodding, Phlox again visibly relaxed and escorted her the rest of the way out of Sickbay before returning to his patient. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "How in the universe do you get yourself in these situations, Commander?" Of course Trip only moaned and moved his head from side to side, the medicine slowly reducing his fever, but he was obviously still feeling the effects of it. Sighing, Phlox moved to check him over again and make him as comfortable as possible.
Shaking his head, Phlox stared at the test results again. He had run the tests three times, all of which had proven unhelpful. It was some sort of infection, but also more than that. So far all he had been able to do was treat the symptoms, to little avail, but still. He couldn't believe that it had been two hours and he hadn't even found a cause. Taking a breath, he mentally reminded himself, "Optimism!", and looked at the results again.
Shaking his head, he moved to examine Trip's angry scratches. He'd already checked them over, but he figured it wouldn't hurt to check them again. Something was causing his fever which had caused the seizure and state of delusion. They only looked to have a minor infection, which he was treating. Perhaps there was some sort of toxin that was released into his blood stream from whatever had scratched him.
As Phlox moved to touch one of the more prominent ones, Trip jerked and moaned. Tossing his head from one side to the other he slowly blinked, attempting to open his eyes. His attention shifting from Trip's injuries to his mental state, Phlox moved to grab a few ice chips. He had hooked the Commander up to an IV, but with humans he had found that they often had a very dry mouth after being unconscious and ice chips helped to alleviate the dryness.
"How are you feeling, Commander?" He asked.
Trip only moaned again, swallowing the ice chips, seemingly unable to form a coherent sentence. His mind was cloudy and he had a headache. He also noticed that his arms still stung and his muscles ached. Where was he? He could hear someone speaking, but he didn't know what they were saying. We're they still on the planet? The voice didn't sound like T'Pol or Captain Archer…it was familiar, but strange at the same time.
Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, reflexively he jerked away, only to immediately still as something applied unbearable pressure to his ribs. Vaguely he became aware that he was strapped down to something. Alarm bells rang in his foggy mind, something wasn't right, but he couldn't find the energy to do anything about it.
"It is for your own good, Commander." Someone above him said, that same familiar but strange voice. "Can you tell me how your muscles feel? Are you experiencing any pain?" Phlox asked. Trip didn't respond. Sighing, Phlox accepted that Trip wasn't in a state to tell him what other symptoms he might have, but as a Doctor he still had to try. "Commander? Can you hear me."
Faintly, Trip nodded, he didn't know who the strange voice belonged to, but he knew he needed to respond. Relieved to see acknowledgment, Phlox launched into another question, "Do your muscles hurt?" Again, Trip nodded, hating giving information to someone he didn't remember or know, but he figured his chances would be better if they knew how he was feeling.
When he didn't hear another question, he tried to open his eyes. They were like lead. When he finally got them open, what he saw didn't make much sense. Everything was distorted and dark, he could barely make out the shape of the person over him.
When Phlox saw that Trip's eyes were open, he could immediately tell that Trip wasn't seeing his surroundings correctly. He could tell that Trip's fever was distorting his mind's interpretation of Sickbay. When Trip got a panicked look on his face Phlox asked, "Do you know where you are?"
They sounded like they were actually interested in the answer, so Trip did his best to form a reply. "T-the Planet?" His guess came out in a hoarse voice, a voice he barely recognized as his own. He didn't hear an immediate response and thus believed his answer was correct. His next coherent thought made his heart pound uncontrollably.
"W-what have you done with the Capt'n?!" He asked, his hoarse voice straining as his heart began racing. Maybe Archer and T'Pol had gotten away. Had they left him behind? Surely not. They'd be back for him, if they did leave him behind, anyway. He had flashes of them running through the forest. He had tripped and then he was surrounded by the natives. Hadn't T'Pol been with him? There was something about a sharp bush that he had rolled through… Groaning, his head started throbbing violently and his memories became fuzzy.
"They are fine." Phlox tried to break through Trip's delirium. The machines monitoring his vitals began beeping at an alarming rate and Phlox again tried to reach Trip.
Trip could no longer hear the person who had been trying to talk to him, he felt like blood was rushing past his ears as doubts about Archer and T'Pol's safety plagued his weary and confused mind. His heart was racing as he moved against the restraints, determination giving him strength he didn't know he had.
"Commander! I need you to calm down, your putting too much strain on your body. If you do not lie still I am going to give you a sedative." Phlox watched as Trip continued to thrash his head about, he also noticed how, despite moving his arms, the Commander was careful to avoid moving his chest, which was strapped loosely to the bio-bed.
Trip struggled harder, momentarily forgetting about his ribs, when he blearily saw the person to whom the familiar but strange voice belonged come closer with something in their hand.
"Hold still Commander. You won't feel a thing." Phlox placed the injector, as carefully as he could amidst all the trashing, against Trips throat, injecting the sedative. Gradually Commander Tucker quieted down.
But he fought the drowsy feeling will all he had in him, for some reason he knew that he didn't have much time to figure all of this out and he didn't want to waste it being in blissful darkness.
Phlox watched as Trip fought the sedative before being overcome by the strong medicine. His head finally lying still as he rested in the drug induced slumber. Content that the Commander would stay in that state, Phlox went back to work trying to alleviate his symptoms while he found the source of the problem. Weary from all of the current events he knew that there was still a lot of work ahead of him. With a sigh, he continued his work.