§ 3 §

"Take exploring," Malcolm said, holding out his hands towards the fire to warm them. "We may call ourselves explorers, but it's not as if we're really taking such a plunge into the unknown. Not like in the past."

Trip had slowly slid down until he was lying flat on the ground. Shifting on his back, he tried to find a comfortable position. With an annoyed huff, he sat up to pick a couple of small rocks off the ground, which he flung with more force than necessary into the darkness.

Malcolm tilted his head. "Is the accommodation not to your liking?"

"The bed's a bit lumpy."

"I'll file a complaint with the tourist bureau."

Grunting, Trip lay back down. "Some of the things we came across have been a heck of a plunge into the unknown, if you ask me," he breathed out. "Like that box of pebbles on the Xyrillian ship."

There was a snort. "I must admit, Commander: plunging your hands into it led you to some… unexpected discoveries."

"Very funny," Trip replied deadpan. He certainly could have done without discovering what being pregnant felt like.

Chuckling softly, Malcolm got up to throw a couple more chunks of wood into the fire. Then, finally giving in to his weariness, he found a spot beside Trip and lay down as well.

What about standing watch, Lieutenant? Trip thought in amusement – although he wouldn't put it past Malcolm to be fully aware of what went on around them while lying on his back and deep in conversation.

"Seriously though," Malcolm continued in a pensive voice, pulling the blanket up to his chin. "Take… I don't know, Christopher Columbus, for example."

"What about him?"

"What about him!" Malcolm blew out a huff of disbelief. "The bloody man took three caravels – not very large vessels by any means, trust me – and sailed off, not knowing what he'd find."

"I thought he was pretty sure he'd find India."

"Yes, but it was only a theory. He set off on the strength of his beliefs. There were still some people around him who maintained that Earth was flat, you know; that the ships would… reach the edge and fall off."

"Yeah." Trip chuckled. "But he obviously didn't – think that."

Malcolm was silent for a moment. "All right, he didn't," he eventually conceded. "In fact sailors had long suspected - known even that Earth was round; but it took a hell of a lot of courage anyway, to do what he did. Because he had no backup if things went awry. Which nearly happened. He had miscalculated distances, and the voyage was much longer than he had estimated." His voice dropped an octave. "Just imagine how those people must have felt, when food and water were running short, and there was still no land in sight, and they were in the middle of nowhere, beginning to lose hope, to lose faith…"

Trip could picture the faraway expression his friend's grey gaze would have right now. He turned to cast him a furtive glance.

"That's what I call an explorer," Malcolm murmured, eyes on the planet's full moon. "You and your own strength. No computer, no power, no way to contact anyone…"

"Ah - ya mean like us, here."

There was a pause.

"We have an emergency beacon," Malcolm said wryly.

"Which doesn't seem to have made any difference – d'you think we'll have to wait long till they find us?"

"Why, are you worried?"

"Worried?" Trip dismissed the thought with a shrug. "Nah. Might take a while but the Capt'n is gonna find us, sooner or later. Just a matter of time. He won't let us rot down here, that's for sure."

"Absolutely. Might as well relax and enjoy our stay."

Trip's jaw dropped open. "Relax? Are you feelin' ok, Lieutenant?"

Travis's stomach grumbled loudly: he hadn't left the bridge in hours and he was getting hungry. He shot an uncomfortable look around. Fortunately only Hoshi seemed to have noticed; she gave him a pale smile that didn't reach her eyes. T'Pol had undoubtedly heard the noise too – her hearing being what it was – but she was too concentrated on her calculations of Shuttlepod One's possible landing trajectories to pay any attention to it.

"Ensign, I believe your body requires some nourishment."

Or perhaps not…

"Go to the mess hall."

"I'm fine, Subcommander," Travis replied stubbornly.

"That was an order, Ensign," T'Pol said in her unflappable tone, glancing up from her console. She seemed to consider something for a moment; then added quietly, "It would not be advisable for you to remain on an empty stomach, in case the Captain should launch a rescue mission and require your assistance."

Travis's heart leapt at the not-so-subtle hint. Finally he might be given something useful to do. He jumped to his feet. "Yes, Ma'am," he replied with a wide grin. It earned him another brief, one-eyebrow-raised look from the Vulcan, and he self-consciously walked past her to the turbo lift, glad to disappear into it.

"Do you ever feel that livin' on a starship is somewhat limitin'?" Trip asked out of the blue, shaking Malcolm out of his thoughts.

They had made the wee hours of the morning, and Trip's drowsiness seemed to have vanished. Lying down side by side with their eyes lost in the myriad of stars above them, they had been rambling on, indeed like kids on a camping trip, at ease with each other and comfortable in the notion that their Captain would come for them, no matter what.

"What exactly do you mean?" Malcolm asked. He had half an idea where this might lead, but thought it would be better if Trip addressed the issue himself.

"Well, there are a lot of things one can't do on a starship."

"Like playing waterpolo?" Malcolm asked, tongue-in-cheek.

"Yeah, that too."

The tone had been serious, which, this being Trip, was puzzling.

Pushing up to a sitting position, Trip reached out to the pile of wood Malcolm had collected and threw another few chunks in the dwindling flames. "Good thing you thought about gettin' some of this stuff," he said. "It would've been damn cold without a fire."

"Survival training, Commander. Didn't you pay any attention when you took yours?" Malcolm saw Trip smirk at him and smiled back innocently, returning his gaze to the stars.

"Sure I did, Lieutenant," Trip grumbled, lying back down. "But if you didn't notice I wasn't exactly twiddlin' my thumbs all day. And thinkin' about our survival is more in your line of work."

"Well, then: so far I seem to have done a good job," Malcolm said smugly. "Although I must admit, landing us safely on this lovely planet with most systems dead and thrusters ready to give up their ghost was bloody impressive piloting. I suppose I owe you, this once."

"Ah! Then you're welcome – this once."

"Playin' waterpolo isn't the only thing the Capt'n is givin' up, in order to do what he's doin'," Trip murmured after a moment, returning to his previous train of thought.

Malcolm bit his lip; time to go for a direct approach. "Are you referring to the fact that he is likely never to start a family?" He felt Trip's eyes on him and turned to meet them. The man had surprise painted all over his face, but Malcolm found it surprising, rather, that Trip should be surprised. He ought to give him a few lessons on how to bury one's feelings deep inside.

"Yeah," Trip finally murmured. "It seems like a lot to give up."

Malcolm turned on his side to face his friend squarely. "It's a matter of choice, I suppose," he reasoned. "Of priorities. Even on Earth many people choose not to start a family." Studying Trip for a reaction, he added, "You don't have to live all your life on a starship, Trip. If you feel the desire to start a family you can ask to be transferred back to Earth."

"Bein' Chief Engineer on Enterprise is a dream come true," Trip replied with feeling. "I love my job, but… that fraternisation rule makes for a rather lonely life." He squirmed, looking uncharacteristically uncomfortable, and Malcolm rolled on his back again, averting his eyes.

"I mean, there may be lots of ensigns and crewmen on Enterprise," Trip ranted, overcoming his awkwardness. "But... they don't leave us senior officers much choice, do they? Either alone or alone."

"Surely you must see why the rule is enforced," Malcolm said patiently. "There can be no romantic involvement between people of different rank. It could result in conflicting situations when orders must be issued."

"Yeah, yeah," Trip grumbled. "Still. It's not easy." He heaved a sigh. "For some people more than others, I suppose."

Malcolm felt a stab; then silently cursed his touchiness: why should he feel hurt by Trip's words? Why should he feel so vulnerable whenever feelings were an issue?

"Ah, I didn't mean to imply that… you know…" Trip blurted out, and Malcolm realised that he wasn't all that good at hiding things deep inside after all. Not with this man, at least.

"I know." Malcolm swallowed. Forcing a lighter tone, he enquired, "So: anyone in particular you would like to date?"

"Uhm – no," Trip stuttered back.

Trip's confusion made Malcolm smile. He turned on his side again and landed the man a light kick on the leg.

"Well, you seem to find plenty of consolation off Enterprise, Commander."

"That's a blow below the belt, Malcolm."

"My kick or my comment?"

"What?"

Grinning widely, Malcolm wondered aloud, "Or perhaps it's the fraternisation rule that is a kick below the belt? An appropriate metaphor." He made sure the naughtiness would be clear in his voice, if not on his face due to the darkness.

"Malcolm!"

TBC