AN: I feel I need to offer a warning at this point. When I start a story I seldom know where it will go. I usually have a vague idea, but then the characters go where they will- and I'm frequently surprised. This story, which has been in progress for a few years now, had been plagued by writers block. The characters wouldn't show me where they were going. I had an idea, but the characters wouldn't speak. And then- they spoke, the block was broken, and the story took a twist on me I didn't expect. This section is nearly 5000 words, and I have another 4000 words written, but I'm concerned because the next section is darker than my usual style, and deals with some tough issues- I'm struggling with presenting it as written, or rewriting it. I do want to warn readers that if you proceed, the next chapter will deal with some sensitive issues.

Again, thanks to the readers, and especially the reviewers- it keeps me motivated to post more promptly.

The engine room was packed with the Enterprise's crew. Trip was perched by the warp core controls. He gestured to T'Pol who was on the floor at the monitor bank, and she signaled that she was ready. A hush fell over the engine room. Trip glanced at the captain, one hand on the ignition key, the over on the toggle that controlled the mix. He met Archer's eyes. Archer nodded at him. Trip's hand tightened on the toggle and with a deep breath he punched the ignition switch. The engine roared. Trip made a hasty correction, and the engine smoothed. For several tense seconds Trip manipulated the toggle. The engine tone fluxed up and down, but finally settled in a smooth, low hum.

The engine room burst into sound, a raucous celebration. Archer grinned, and came down from his perch on the catwalk, meaning to congratulate Trip. Crewmen were laughing and joking, the relief palpable. As Archer made his way through the crowd, he spotted Malcolm standing just inside the entrance. He changed course and made his way towards the armory officer. Malcolm saw him approaching and straightened from where he had slumped against the wall.

"Malcolm. Glad you made it. If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be restarting the engine. We wouldn't be here at all."

"Thank you, sir. Just doing my job." Malcolm's gaze raked the room. He seemed satisfied with what he saw. He turned back to Archer. "That went well. I was concerned that we wouldn't be to get the mix right for a cold start. You know an Earth ship has never had a cold start outside of space dock. At least not that we know of."

"Trip told me," Archer replied. He was pleased that Reed had made it. He deserved to be here to enjoy the celebration. Archer didn't ask if Phlox had given Malcolm permission to leave sickbay—he didn't want to know the answer. Malcolm seemed content to watch the celebration from the sidelines. He looked better, Archer noted. While Malcolm was still coughing frequently, his cheeks had a touch of color, and his eyes were alert. "Malcolm, I'm going to talk to Trip for a moment. Are you going to be here for a while?"

Malcolm nodded, but didn't elaborate. He was still watching the crowed, a small smile on his face. Archer left him there, and made his way toward Trip. It was easier now, since the crowd had started to disperse. Reaching the warp core he tilted his head back to look at Trip. "Commander!"

Trip leaned over the rail. "Hey, Captain. Glad that's over with! I was a little worried there for a moment, but ole Betty here came through for me. I never shoulda doubted her."

"Betty?" Archer was amused.

"Sure, captain. Every engine needs name. "

Archer chuckled. "Trip, I don't think I even wanted to know. I just wanted to congratulate you on getting 'Betty' here going again."

"Thanks, Captain, but I didn't do the hard work. Malcolm saved the engine in the first place, and his armory guys and T'Pol did the work to get things ready again. I just pushed the button," Trip grinned.

"It was a team effort," Archer agreed. "Well, now that we've got an engine again, I've got work to do. I need to let Admiral Forrest know that we're back in business." Archer grinned at his engineer and turned away. He made his way toward the exit, stopping to thank and congratulate crewmen as he went.

Skreech. The high-pitched, alarm interrupted Archer and grabbed the attention of everyone in the engine room. Trip spun around, studying the monitors before him. His hands flew to the controls. Malcolm shot across the room, and was up on the platform before Archer could stop him. He tried to nudge Trip aside, but the engineer resisted. Malcolm tried again shoving harder against Trip. Trip didn't expect the action, and stumbled. His momentum carried him far enough that he had to step down onto the platform stairs. Malcolm took immediate advantage, grabbing the controls.

"Get out!" Malcolm ground out from clenched teeth. "It's a radiation leak! The core shielding must have been cracked. Everyone out! Trip, get out!"

Most of the crew fled, following Malcolm's order. Trip was scrambling back up to the platform. Archer spun and tried to get back to the warp core, but he had to fight his way through the fleeing crew. The annoying screech continued.

Phlox had left sickbay to watch the engine restart. Now he appeared at Archer's side. Looking up at the warp core platform, he called up. "Lieutenant Reed! Come down immediately. You can't be exposed to any more radiation! Lieutenant! Let Commander Tucker take care of it!"

Malcolm didn't reply. His hands grasped the controls, but he didn't change them. His brow furrowed with confusion. Trip had recovered his balance and was back on the platform. Malcolm refused to yield his position. "Get out of here," he growled at Trip. "You're hurt!" He yelled to be heard over the alarm.

Trip snorted, not bothering to reply. Using his greater height and weight he shoved Malcolm away from the controls, physically pushed him to the stairs, maneuvering his body to prevent Malcolm from returning to the controls. He heard a shout of protest behind him, and then a cry of outrage from the floor below him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Phlox and Archer dragging Malcolm out of the engineering room. Trip re-focused on the controls. He stared at them, confused. They all read as normal. As he tried to make sense of the information, the alarm abruptly silenced. Simultaneously he heard T'Pol call out, "All clear! There is no radiation leak!"

"Are you sure?" Trip asked, wanting to be certain.

"Yes, Commander. The alarm was resetting. There was a small amount of residual radiation on the sensor. When the engine was restarted, the alarm came back on line and responded to the last conditions it encountered. Once it read the current conditions it cleared. The backup sensors all read clear. There is no radiation leak."

Trip took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. "That makes sense. Everything up here is reading just fine. I couldn't figure out where the problem was." He grabbed the safety rails and limped down the stairs. "Sure gave me a scare."

T'Pol nodded. "I think that is the case for much of the crew."

"What about you?" Trip asked with a grin.

"I was concerned," T'Pol conceded. "If there had truly been a radiation leak, I don't believe we would have been able to again successfully shut down and restart the engine. Enterprise's mission would be over."

"Not to mention possibly our lives," Trip replied dryly. "What the hell did Malcolm think he was doing? He's no engineer. If there had been a leak, I was the best one to manage it. The last thing he needs is more radiation. Not that it would have been too good for me, or anyone else."

"I think that was Lieutenant Reed's concern."

"I think you're right, Sub-Commander," Trip said. And I'm going to get to the bottom of this before he manages to kill himself, he added mentally.

*******************

Following the successful restart, Trip spent every moment he could in engineering, monitoring every aspect of the engines, checking plasma reserves, and supervising his team doing a tedious inch by inch evaluation of the warp core, looking for even microscopic disruptions of the hull. They found nothing significant, but incorporated routine maintenance. Four days later he and his team were exhausted, but the engine was in close to pristine condition. Making one final check, he scrubbed his dirty hands off on his uniform and then grinned as T'Pol, who had been spending nearly as much time in engineering as Trip, shot him a look. Her eyes raked over him, and he glanced down. He was filthy. He lifted his eyes back to meet hers and shrugged. "Yeah, I'm a mess. I've had other priorities."

T'Pol didn't respond directly. Instead she said "I will inform the captain that we can return to regular ship operations. The extra rotations are no longer necessary. I will let him know that you are attending to lower priorities."

Trip stared at her. Was T'Pol actually attempting humor? He wasn't certain. He didn't think he'd ever understand the Vulcan. He chuckled. "Okay, I can take a hint. I'll see you on the bridge, later."

T'Pol nodded acknowledgement. They left engineering in companionable silence. As they reached the turbolift, Trip took a deep breath. "It's been a long week, hasn't it? I'm exhausted."

"That is not surprising. During this week, we've have a near warp core breach, you've been injured and suffered radiation injury, and you've spent the last four days with little sleep, and doing hard labor, which I do not believe you were medically cleared for. It is understandable that you are exhausted."

"Well, when you put it that way," Trip snorted. "I was cleared medically by the way."

T'Pol fixed him with a look.

"Well, mostly," he admitted.

"Perhaps you should make a visit to the doctor, as a precaution."

"T'Pol, I'm fine," Trip insisted. "But I do need to talk to Phlox, see how thing are going in sickbay. I think I'll stop by."

"I would suggest you attend to the 'lower priorities' first," T'Pol replied.

Thirty minutes, a shower, and a hot meal later, Trip was feeling refreshed, if not rested. His eyes felt gritty, and heavy, and a glance in the mirror as he pulled his comb through his head had revealed how red they were. He would crash soon, but trying to sleep now would be futile. He was too awake. A visit to sickbay, a chat with Phlox, a quick visit to the bridge, and he'd be able to sleep. He stepped out of his cabin and strolled toward the turbolift, greeting crewmembers along the way. The corridors were more empty than usual. T'Pol's report to Archer had resulted in the captain decreeing that they would keep minimal crew on duty, and allow as much down time for everyone as possible, to make up for the preceding hectic days. Stepping into the turbolift he leaned against the wall. His energy level was dropping fast. Maybe he wouldn't go to the bridge after all. The turbolift glided to a halt. Pushing himself away from the wall with a sigh, he exited. Thirty seconds later he was in sickbay.

Sickbay was empty, the lights dimmed to half intensity. Phlox was not in sight. Trip stood in the doorway glancing around. There was no indication that the area had been crowded with injured crewman just a few days ago. A shrill chirp interrupted the quiet. "All right, all right, I'm bringing your dinner." Phlox appeared from the storage room, carrying a covered bowl. The doctor glanced up, saw Trip, and added,
"I'll be with you in just a moment, Commander. My Icionian half bat is hungry, and is making quite a nuisance of himself. "

Trip looked away. He had long since learned that watching Phlox feed some of his creatures wasn't always pleasant. Another shrill screech, and then slurping sounds, validated his decision.

"Yes, wasn't that tasty? You keep making anticoagulant in your gut, and you'll keep getting tasty treats," Phlox cooed at the cage. Trip shuddered. Phlox turned his attention to the engineer. What can I do for you, Mr. Tucker?"

"Hey, doc. Just wondered how things were going down here. Looks pretty quiet now."

Phlox closed the cage, and set his bowl down. He moved over to the lab table and sat down, gesturing for Trip to do likewise. "It's been much quieter. I still have a few crewmen coming in for daily treatments for their radiation exposure, but they're all doing well. I think everyone will be back on full duty by the end of the week."

"Even Malcolm?"

A fleeting expression passed over the doctor's face, but it was gone before Trip could identify the emotion. The doctor dropped his eyes. "Yes, even Mr. Reed. Despite his best efforts to find new and unusual ways to set back his progress, he'll be on full duty in the next few days."

"What did he do now?" Trip asked. Phlox shook his head, and Trip put on his command voice. "As third in command, I need to report to the captain the status of the crew, doctor."

Phlox chuckled. "Good try, Commander, but I've already given the report to the captain. Mr. Reed simply hasn't gotten the rest I'd have liked, and his eyes are going to be giving him trouble for some time, especially if he doesn't give them some rest. Speaking of getting rest, Commander, didn't I put YOU on limited duty? I understand you've been living in engineering. I never agreed to that."

Trip flushed, caught. He could hardly say anything about Malcolm's non-compliance with the doctor's orders when he himself hadn't been obeying. He tried to change the subject.

"Doctor, I hate to bring it up, 'specially since you've been so busy down here, but-" Trip began.

"The hearing," Phlox sighed. "Yes, I've not forgotten it."

"Doctor, I've been appointed as your attorney. You've got to talk to me."

Phlox raised his eyes to meet Trip's, but didn't speak.

"You've got to tell me everything. I know you have information that could be used. Geez, doc, you've got to defend yourself! You have to let people know what you were thinking at the time. Otherwise, Malcolm is going to just say you made bad judgments."

"There is little I can do about that," Phlox replied placidly. "Some of the calls I made were questionable."

Trip hit the table with a clenched first, and Phlox jumped. "Doc, hindsight is twenty-twenty. But I know you had reasons for doing what you did. You've gotta tell people. Explain. They'll understand."

Phlox shook his head firmly. "Commander, I've already told you. I can't reveal confidential information. Not to you, and certainly not to the panel."

Trip let out a puff of air, and leaned back in his chair. "Can't you sorta explain why you made the decisions you did without telling the details? Say that you know things about them that made you make the decisions you did?"

Phlox gave a wry smile. "Tell the jury 'trust me, I had a good reason' and hope for the best you mean? It's an interesting strategy, Commander, but one that I doubt would be successful."

Trip stood up, and began pacing around sickbay. "Come on doc, work with me here. There has to be something you can say, without violating confidentiality. This is your career, your life here. Besides, aren't you allowed to tell what happens if someone accuses you of malpractice? "

Phlox shook his head. "If the lieutenant was accusing me of having committed malpractice on him, that would be different. His medical records would be fair game. But he isn't accusing me of that. Technically he isn't accusing me at all. This is an investigation into a death, and he's acting in his official capacity. So I really have no justification for violating his confidentiality."

"Except that there is something in his records that explains why you made the decisions you did, right?" Trip asked.

Phlox nodded, and gave a humorless laugh. "Ironic isn't it?"

Trip sat back down. He reached down and rubbed his leg. The skin was still sensitive, but the healing was nearly complete, thanks to Phlox eel. He considered the doctor's words. "There is no way around the confidentiality stuff, is there." It was a statement, not a question.

"No."

"Could you explain to Malcolm why you made the decisions you did, and maybe he'll drop the charges."

Phlox shook his head. "As I said, Commander, the lieutenant isn't the one bringing the charges. It's an investigative hearing. Even if he wanted to stop the proceedings, he isn't authorized to. Neither is the captain. I suppose Starfleet could, but we've come full circle- I'd have to violate confidentiality to give them a reason."

"Damn. This is messed up," Trip said. He leaned back in his chair and let his head fall back. He studied the ceiling. "I don't see that you have any other options, but," Trip paused and then blurted out, "Can you tell me? As your lawyer I need to know the facts, and I can't reveal anything you don't want me to. I might be able to defend you better, ask more direct questions. Hell, I might even end up calling Malcolm as a witness for you-"

"No!" Phlox stood quickly. "Absolutely not! I'll take the consequences of being found liable in Ensign Carey's death before I'll have private medical information used to justify calling a patient as a witness to defend myself. It's out of the question."

Trip raised his hands in surrender. "Okay, doc, okay. I'm just trying to help. " Trip shook his head, frustrated. "But you have to tell me. Even if I can't use it directly, I need to know. I need to understand."

Phlox spoke clearly. "I had good reason to believe that Lieutenant Reed was more seriously injured than Ensign Carey, based on both their presentation at the time, as well as their respective medical histories. That is what I will say during the hearing. That is all I can say."

Trip left sickbay unsatisfied. It was obvious to him that Phlox had a good reason for his actions, and Malcolm's recent behavior was certainly suspicious, but the doctor was not going to cooperate in his own defense. Trip was going to have to use other methods. Grumpy from lack of sleep he stomped onto the bridge. At the sound of the turbolift door opening, Archer turned. One look at Trip's face, and he stood. "Commander?"

Trip shook his head, indicating he was not going to talk on the bridge.

Archer stepped over to Hoshi's station. "Anything in sensor range, Ensign?"

"No, sir," she replied, sounding vaguely puzzled that Archer would be asking her if there was any danger, knowing she would report anything unusual.

"T'Pol, you've got the bridge," Archer told his science officer. He gestured to Trip. "Commander, lets step out for a moment." Archer led Trip to his ready room. When the door clicked shut behind him he turned to the engineer. "What's on your mind, Trip?"

Trip's jaw dropped. "What makes you think-"

"How long have we known each other? What's going on?"

Trip plopped himself down into the nearest chair, fatigue washing over him. "It's Phlox. He has a good reason for doing what he did, but he won't tell me, and he won't defend himself. How is supposed to get a fair hearing, if he won't help himself? I ask you, how?"

Archer sat down behind his desk. He studied his chief engineer. "You tell me, Trip. "

Trip leaned forward, elbows on knees, supporting his head in his hands. "I have to find a way to present the information that he'll accept." Trip sighed. "I guess I have a lot of work to do."

"Yes," Archer agreed. "But not right now. Why don't you get some sleep? You look exhausted. By the way, I was speaking with Admiral Forrest, and he wanted me to pass on his congratulations for a job well done. A plasma reload outside of space dock, and a cold restart- more history for Enterprise."

Trip sat up straight. "Well, we wouldn't have had the chance to make history if we'd breached our warp core. Thanks to Malcolm that didn't happen. He deserves the credit."

"And he'll get it. But you deserve credit, too, Trip. The whole crew does. " Archer smiled at the tired engineer. "Get some sleep, though."

"Okay," Trip stood up, and then turned. He put both hands on the back of the chair he'd just vacated and propped himself up. "Did the Admiral say when the hearing would resume? Did you tell him how great Phlox was during the emergency?"

Archer's smile faded. "He left it up to me, but he said, and I quote, 'Get that business taken care of, Captain'. So we'll have to resume the hearing in a few days."

"I need a little time, Captain. I need to investigate a few things."

"Sure you don't want to change careers?" Archer teased. "Become an attorney?"

Trip shuddered. "Perish the thought. When this business is done, I want nothing else to do with hearings, or courtrooms, or any of it."

"Trip, I do appreciate what you're doing. I'll give you a week to before we resume. Fair enough?" Archer offered the little help he could.

"Fair enough."

"Get some sleep, Trip."

Malcolm stepped into sickbay. He hated coming here. Never had liked it, but it was much worse since the shuttle accident. He didn't want to speak with Phlox. It was hard to face the doctor since the shuttle accident, worse since the hearing had begun. He knew Phlox was not a bad man, but Malcolm firmly believed the doctor had made a tragic mistake. He had to be held accountable for it. It made coming to sickbay and facing Phlox damn uncomfortable.

The doctor was working at his desk. The hiss of the door caught his attention and he lifted his head, a welcoming smile on his face. Recognizing Reed, the smile wavered for the briefest instant, but then was fixed firmly in place. "Ah, Lieutenant. Here for your treatment, I presume?"

Malcolm nodded. He moved reluctantly toward the doctor. "This is the last one, correct?"

The doctor rose, grabbing his scanner off the desk top. "I believe I said this might be the last one. Of course if you'd been exposed to more radiation, you'd be on treatments for months, and it's unlikely they would have been effective," Phlox gently chided.

Malcolm flushed. Phlox had said the same thing every day since the engine restart, and there had been a very uncomfortable conversation in Archer's office. Even now remembering caused Malcolm's face to grow hot. The armory officer couldn't remember ever before having heard the captain speak quite so loudly.

Phlox motioned Reed to the nearest biobed. Reed jumped up on it and lay down, used to the drill by now. Phlox studied the monitors, and then ran the hand scanner from Reed's head to his toes. "Hmmm. Well, lieutenant, I think you're right. This should be the last treatment. I'll need to see you back in a week, just for recheck, but I don't think you'll need any additional treatments. How are your eyes?"

Reed grimaced. "They're still rather sore, especially at the end of the day. The drops are helping."

"How often are you using them?" Phlox asked.

"I use the steroid drops twice a day, and the other ones once a day," Malcolm answered.

"Keep using the steroid drops twice a day, but you can use the other ones up to three times a day. If they aren't feeling much better in two more days, I want you to come back here. I can increase the steroid dose if I have to. Now, into the treatment chamber."

Reed groaned. He hated going into the treatment chamber. It didn't hurt, but it was loud and made his skin tingle unpleasantly, and the medication for his lungs made them feel heavy, and caused him to cough for hours after the treatment. Reluctantly he walked to the chamber and lay on the bed outside the door. Phlox pulled open the door, and slid the tray bearing Reed in. He latched the door and set the controls. He spoke into the intercom. "An hour and fifteen minutes, Mr. Reed." He ignored Reed's protest. Most of the treatments had been an hour, but since this was the last treatment, he was going to expand it, knowing he could not depend on Reed to report any return of symptoms. With nothing more to do for an hour and fifteen minutes, and unable to leave the immediate area while Reed was in the chamber, Phlox settled at this desk to try to catch up on the myriad of reports that had gone undone during the recent emergency. His charting was up to date- Phlox was fastidious about that- but supply requisitions, disease surveillance reports, and regular health maintenance appointments for the crew were all behind. It would take more than hour and fifteen minutes, but at least he could make a dent. Opening his computer interface he noted an alert flashing at him. He touched the screen to open the alert, read it, and sighed.

Commander Tucker was persistent, Phlox reflected. The doctor had set up an alert system so that queries on specific records were brought to his attention. He tapped the screen, denying the request, and was about to move on, when he noticed another alert. He frowned. This one was just an alert. He had no control over the records that were being queried, as they weren't medical records. He had set up a notification system so that he would be aware the records were being reviewed, so he could be prepared, although he could do nothing about it. His stomach tightened. Commander Tucker was determined to get the information he sought one way or the other, and Phlox would not be able to stop him. He glanced over at the closed treatment chamber, fearing for the man inside, and his reaction to what Trip would undoubtedly uncover. Events were taking on a momentum of their own, gathering speed, and heading towards an inevitable crash and the accompanying carnage.

Phlox couldn't watch it happen. He loved Enterprise, had come to care deeply for her crew, and wanted dearly to stay on board. Watching Reed try to take control of the warp core during the engine restart, heedless of his own health, had proven to Phlox that his decisions at the time of the shuttle crash were justifiable- even if he had been proven wrong on that occasion. The doctor didn't want to be labeled as incompetent, or removed from his position on Enterprise, but he knew that he would land on his feet. His position in Denobulan medical society was secure. While Trip worried that Phlox reputation would be tarnished, and Phlox was touched at the concern, he inwardly smiled at the thoughts. Denobulans didn't give much credence to human opinion. They found humans delightful and entertaining, but also found them to have limited perspective and experience, a consequence of their species' youth. The human's judgment on the Denobulan doctor would be received by his government with serious nods- and then utterly disregarded.

Phlox wanted to stay on the Enterprise, but the not at the cost of tearing apart the crew. The tension on the ship that had surrounded the hearing had dissipated in the face of the more pressing emergency, but it would return as things settled back to 'normal'. Life on Enterprise was dangerous at the best of times- and if her key officers were not at their best, the danger was increased. The price to be paid to stay on Enterprise would be too high- especially since he would not be the one paying it.

Phlox stood up and went to the treatment chamber. He checked the monitors to make sure that the treatments were progressing well, and that Reed was comfortable. Noting that the armory officer appeared to be napping, he recorded the lieutenant's vital signs. Satisfied that there was nothing else he needed to do for Reed, he stepped over to the intra-ship intercom. He jabbed it.

"Bridge," Hoshi's soft voice came through the speaker.

"Ensign, this is Phlox. I need to speak with the captain."

"He's in his ready room. I'll patch you through," Hoshi told him. There was a faint sound of static, and then the captain's voice.

"Archer here."

"Captain, this is Phlox. I need to speak with you."

"Is there a medical emergency?" Archer's voice was taut.

"No, Captain. Nothing like that. It's personal. Captain… I wish to tender my resignation."