§ 5 §

Trip yawned.

There was a soft rustling sound through the leaves and Malcolm raised his head.

"What is it?" Trip asked.

"Probably nothing." Sitting up, Malcolm produced his scanner and focussed on the instrument, aware that Trip had done the same.

"I have nothin'."

Malcolm threw the blanket aside and stood up slowly, right hand going to the phase pistol at his hip. "Same here, but we know that doesn't mean much." He raised his gaze from the instrument to the darkness beyond their immediate surroundings. "It won't hurt to take a look around," he murmured.

"I'll go with you," Trip said, getting up too.

"Actually, Commander, I'd prefer if you stayed here." Malcolm took Trip by the arm and pulled him away from the light of the fire. "This is just a precautionary reconnaissance but, with all due respect, alone I'm less likely to make noise."

He had used Trip's rank to make his request official, and it obtained the desired effect. Trip didn't object, murmuring only 'be careful' as Malcolm slipped away.

Malcolm smirked. Why did everybody always feel it necessary to tell him to be careful? Of course he'd be careful. It was his bloody job to be careful. He went through the trees and stopped a moment to let his eyes get used to the darkness. He had a torch, but would rather not use it, just in case someone or something was out there.

A forest at night was a sinister place; an alien one even more so. Trees were very tall on this planet, their leaves large and oblong. Now they were ominous shades pressing down on him. Good thing he wasn't a very impressionable person. Still, Malcolm felt a shiver run down his spine and his heart race.

Fully alert, he began his slow recce around their campsite. Only his soft footsteps could be heard. Whatever wildlife there may be, it was awfully silent and invisible, not only to their instruments. If interference of some kind was really preventing their emergency beacon from being picked up by Enterprise, and impairing their scanners, he'd better keep an eye out. He might find this planet's version of T-Rex behind the next tree.

The sound was back, a little louder, and Malcolm froze, adrenaline coursing through his system. Tense, he flattened against a tree trunk and raised his gaze: it had come from above him. A moment later he saw the leaves move and felt something on his face. He almost burst out laughing: a bloody breeze, that's all it was. Shaking his head, Malcolm stood still a few more moments, just to make sure. The breeze now was going through the leafy fronds with intermittent light gusts, producing the rustling noise they had heard.

Cold made him shiver and he hugged his shoulders; time to get back to the comforting warmth of their fire and of his thermal blanket.

The moment he emerged into the clearing Trip came back into view. "False alarm, huh?" he asked, hands on his hips.

"If you mean it was the breeze, then the answer is yes."

Trip bit his lip. "Let's hope it doesn't pick up."

"Or that it doesn't herald bad weather," Malcolm replied, studying the sky. It was still clear and starry.

A few minutes later they had both stretched out on the ground again. Malcolm burrowed into his blanket, happy to abandon himself to the weariness that comes after a rush of adrenaline. He closed his eyes. Trip, however, seemed to have no intention of sleeping.

"How many years between you and Madeline?"

"Hmm? Three."

"Same as between Elizabeth and me."

Malcolm heard Trip grunt and shift, seemingly unable to find a comfortable position.

"Lizzie was my favourite target as a kid. I had such a great time gettin' under her skin," he went on after he had settled down again. "I mean, I did nothing terrible, just -- ya know, the sort of things a bigger brother does to his younger sister."

"What things?" Malcolm slurred. He was beginning to feel bloody well knackered, but as long as it was Trip doing the talking…

There was a pause. "You mean to tell me you never bugged your sister?"

Malcolm could picture Trip's expression of innocent disbelief, but took a peek all the same. "Course I did," he mumbled, closing his eyes again. "But I'm curious if British sister-teasing is the same as American sister-teasing." On occasion he had been rather obnoxious to Madeline, but he suspected Trip might have been quite a bit more inventive in his waywardness.

"I'm pretty sure some of the things bigger brothers do to sisters are the same all over the world," Trip said, a smile in his voice.

"Are you planning to tell me or not?" Malcolm pressed, a little bit more awake. This promised to be interesting.

"Well, all the standard things: called her names, scared her a lot, locked my room so she couldn't come in – boy did she hate that – practised my tacklin' technique on her, and…"

"What?" Malcolm's eyes shot open and he looked at Trip in horror. "You tackled your little sister?"

"In the yard, on the grass," Trip explained, as if that alone absolved him. "I'd never hurt her. Besides, she didn't mind – well, sort of… She always wanted to do everything I did!"

"Isn't that a prerogative of all younger sisters?" Malcolm commented under his breath.

"So, how 'bout you? What did you do to bug your sis?"

Trip pinned him with his gaze and Malcolm held it for a brief moment, before closing his eyes yet again to call back a period of his life he hadn't thought of in a long time.

"I didn't really bother Madeline all that much," he murmured, still trying to think.

"You just admitted you did, Malcolm," Trip reminded him deadpan.

Malcolm cleared his throat. "I called her names too, didn't want her around when I was with my friends and… took a perverse pleasure in not wanting to share some of my toys with her," he said. Unbidden, something came to his mind and he chuckled. "Once…" That had been quite wicked of him.

"What did you do?"

"She had this bunch of dolls, which she was obsessively fond of. I couldn't stand them, thought they were absolutely revolting. When Madeline played with them, which was every single day, she messed up our room completely and then I had to help clean it up. So one day I decided I'd had enough. I stole the whole lot, hid them in a safe place and left a ransom note on Maddie's bed."

"A ransom note?" Trip grinned. "What kind of ransom?"

"If she ever wanted to see her dolls in one piece again she was going to have to tidy up our room single-handedly for a week in a row."

Trip snorted. "Damn, Malcolm, that was evilly brilliant. So, what happened?"

"Before I could stop her, Madeline went screaming to our mother and I was ordered to give them back. I refused, so my mother stormed into our room, threatening to take my most prized possession hostage. That's when I learnt that crime doesn't pay."

Trip chuckled. "You yielded?"

"I had to."

"What was your most prized possession, anyway?"

"You'll never guess," Malcolm teased.

"A chemistry set?"

"No."

"Toy soldiers? Weapons?"

Malcolm shot him a look. "How stereotype. Not to mention outdated."

"A computer game – 'Age of Aliens'?"

"Good heavens! No."

"What, then?"

Malcolm saw Trip squirm with curiosity and felt like a kid again. "Sorry, Commander."

Trip's eyes went narrow. "You can't do that!"

"Do what?"

"Not tell me. I could order you."

Malcolm grinned. "That would definitely be abuse of power."

There was a stunned pause.

"How the hell did your sister ever stand you?"

Doctor Phlox covered the cage of his Pirythean bat for the night and cast a look around sickbay. Everything was neat and clean. No patients. At least for the moment, he thought, feeling his heart sink. Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed were regular guests, and their current predicament… This time the Captain had better find them and soon, because even his interspecies medical expertise would not help the two officers if those energy bursts hit them on the planet, he thought grimly.

With a sigh, he lowered the lights and let himself out, strolling towards the mess hall. He wasn't very hungry, but a cup of mint tea would be agreeable, as Subcommander T'Pol would put it. Perhaps it would help him relax.

The mess hall was almost empty; the hour was past his human colleagues' usual time for supper. Only a few crewmen were around, most of them off-duty, chatting and drinking a cup of something before retiring for the night. Smiling at a young woman who had greeted him on her way out of the room, Phlox went to the drink dispenser and ordered himself his cup of tea. He had only recently discovered this beverage, thanks to his innate curiosity and a late-night conversation with their Vulcan Officer, and had quickly developed a taste for it.

Turning around, he scanned the hall. Ah – Ensign Sato, all alone in the far corner and gazing into her cup.

She looked in need of company, so Phlox weaved his way around the tables to her. "Ensign," he greeted. "May I join you?"

"Please."

As he sat down, Phlox took in the dark circles under her eyes and spent expression. "My-oh-my, Hoshi, you look tired."

Hoshi sighed. "I'm exhausted," she admitted. "And concerned."

"About the Commander and Lieutenant, I imagine."

"It's been hours, and we haven't made the slightest bit of progress in finding them. What if they are hurt? They could be…"

Her voice faltered, and Phlox willed his innate optimism to the fore, hoping to lift the young woman's mood. "We simply don't know that," he said gently.

"But even if they're fine, those energy bursts…"

"It serves no purpose to think the worst, Hoshi," Phlox interrupted her, not allowing her to speak her fears aloud. "We are all concerned for Mr. Tucker and Mr. Reed, but worrying won't help them. We must remain strong."

His words were rewarded with a faint smile.

Hoshi sighed. "I'm sorry, Doctor." Straightening her shoulders, she drew a steadying breath. "I'd better go back to the bridge," she said, standing up.

"Eh, eh, Ensign…" Phlox stopped her, "Wouldn't it be better if you took a few hours of sleep? I'm sure whoever is manning communications would call you if anything new came up, hmm?"

Hoshi sagged back onto her chair. "It wouldn't feel right to be away from the bridge while…" She bit her lip. "Trip and Malcolm are friends; I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway, not knowing if they'll be ok."

"Collapsing at your station is not going to help them either," Phlox reminded her gently. But Hoshi's face was so distraught that he didn't have the heart to insist - just yet. "All right. But no more than a couple of hours, Ensign," he conceded.

Hoshi pushed to her feet. "Yes, Doc," she said with a smirk.

As he watched her leave, Phlox mulled that if he wanted to make sure she rested, in two hours' time he would no doubt have to go and drag her away from her console.

TBC