Trip

He's back, on Enterprise, home. But it doesn't feel like home anymore. It feels hostile, like the well has been poisoned. He drops his bag in his quarters and looks a the bed. Last time he slept there she was with him. He finds it difficult to contemplate sleeping there alone.

He stands in the middle of the room and looks around, tying to figure out what has changed. Why he feels so out of place here, in this room, where he has slept, and cried, and dreamed, and worked and even made love. The only thing that has changed is him.

He palms the door and steps into the corridor. His feet take him to his destination seemingly without the instructions of his brain. Before he even realises where he is going he is in front of her door. He stands for a moment wondering why he is here. Eventually he presses his override code into the door panel and steps inside. The sent of her candles lingers in the air.

The room is the most chaotic he has ever seen it. The quartermaster has already assigned someone to begin boxing up her possessions to ship to Vulcan. It is a stark reminder of her absence, the permanence of it.

He flips open the flaps of one of the boxes. Her pillow sits on the top. He picks it up and holds it to his face, breathing in the smell of her. For a moment he considers taking it. He needs something of her, something he can hold to him, just to make it a little bit easier to get through the rest of his life.

He places the cushion back in the carton and flips it closed. Her attention to detail is too great. He probably couldn't even take a hair out of her brush without her noticing. She would likely complain to Starfleet, there would be an investigation, his presence in the room is recorded in the use of his override code. It would be embarrassing, for both of them. He probably doesn't deserve to have it anyway.

He palms the door and leaves. There's nothing for him here anymore.

He heads to Sickbay, perhaps Phlox can make him feel more at home. He notices the irony that it's Enterprise's two alien crew members he seeks out first. He is even more shocked by the state of Sickbay. All of the Doctor's creatures and plants are gone. An older human woman with a severe face greets him.

"Can I help you?"

"Where's Phlox? Who are you?" He blurts out, his shock rendering him rude.

"Dr Phlox has resigned. I'm Dr Kelly Martin, the new Chief Medical Officer." She tell him without preamble.

"Oh, okay. Wellcome to Enterprise." In a daze he turns and leaves, he's in the Turbolift heading to D deck before he realises he didn't introduce himself.

It's in Engineering that he finally finds an alien on Enterprise, it's not the positive experience he was seeking. And it is as he talks to this Vulcan, or rather, is talked down to by this Vulcan, that he realises why Starfleet was so prepared to get rid of T'Pol, what was in it for them.

He makes some excuse to get out of there and and retreats back to his quarters. His head is spinning. He stands against the window and presses his head against the cool glass. He can see Earth below and suddenly he longs for the fresh air and open space, and sunlight, and wind.

He thinks about what he's just learned, what it means to him, what it means to his life, his career. He realises what he is contemplating and wonders if he can do it, if he can even imagine a life without Starfleet, let alone live it. He knows he can, he is already imagining it.

For the first time in three years he feels claustrophobic on Enterprise. It feels like the walls are closing in on him. He feels like he can't breathe.

Malcolm

They're heading back to Enterprise to finalise details before Enterprise is sent to Jupiter Station for the refit. The debriefing nightmare is over, T'Pol is gone. He is sharing the shuttle with Travis and Hoshi. He's done some digging over the past couple of weeks, he had a good idea what had driven the action against T'Pol. He fills them in. They are both shocked and disgusted.

He mentions to them that Trip seemed to take the news about T'Pol pretty badly.

Hoshi is pretty sure that there was something far deeper than simple friendship between the Vulcan and Engineer.

"How can you tell?" He asks her, skepticism written all over his face.

Hoshi rolls her eyes. "I'm a linguist. It's not called 'body language' by accident." She tells him with more than a little exasperation. "You should talk to him, tell him what you've found out."

He wasn't sure how Trip was going take the news.

He finds him in the deserted mess hall, dressed in civvies, nursing a cold coffee, uneaten pie in front of him, staring out the window at Earth below. Malcolm sighs, they're all a little shell shocked by the events of the past few weeks but Trip seems devastated.

T'Pol was a tough egg to crack but somehow she'd managed to find a place amongst them. True, he's going to miss the view of that bum, but it's more than that. He is not a man who makes a lot of friends, but he considered her a trusted colleague, as close to a friend as a Vulcan could get he figures. He certainly doesn't think she's been treated fairly and that irks him.

"Hello mate, how's it going." He sits down at the table with Trip as he greets him.

Trip flashes him a sardonic smile. "Just peachy, Mal. How are you?"

Malcolm decides not to mince words. "I can confidently say I've been better."

Trip snorts in return but says nothing more.

Malcolm shifts forward in his chair and starts an intense study of his thumb nail. "Well, I've spoken to a few old colleagues who are... in the know, shall we say. They've been able to further enlighten me a little on the whole situation with T'Pol."

The look on Trip's face is pure venom. It takes a moment for Malcom to work out it's not directed at him.

"Let me guess, the Vulcans suddenly became all open and friendly about giving us some of their tech. I'm sure they had a few conditions, like discrediting T'Pol and getting her sent back to Vulcan with her tail between her legs as punishment for having the gumption to have an independent thought in her Vulcan brain."

Malcom is shocked at the accuracy of Trip's deductions. "That's pretty much what I found out, where did you hear it."

"I didn't need to hear it. I've got eyes in my face and a brain in my head. Once I met Skippy the Vulcan, in my engine room, who implied I wasn't clean or competent enough to scrub impulse manifolds in his presence let alone understand the intricacies of eighty year old Vulcan technology, I was able to put two and two together and get five."

Malcolm was having trouble keeping up. "Who's Skippy the Vulcan."

"That would be T'Pol's replacement, Sub-Commander S'Kypp, would you believe. He's an engineer and is going to spend the next month at Jupiter station helping to install all the nice shiny, obsolete Vulcan technology, Starfleet traded T'Pol down the river for."

Malcolm coughs down a laugh, he has a feeling it won't take long for the moniker 'Skippy the Vulcan' to be used pretty much universally on the ship. "Still, you have to admit, it's bloody nice of the Vulcans to give us someone whose name is so easy to bastardise."

Trip gives a wry smile, which is encouraging to Malcolm. At least his sense of humour isn't completely gone.

It fades quickly. "You know, all we really want from the Vulcans is to be treated as equals, like we belong on the galactic stage. Not like we're foolish children who accidentally built a warp engine and now we can't figure out how to drive it. I'd just like to see the Vulcan's acknowledge that we are capable of progressing on our own, on our own terms."

Malcolm thinks about T'Pol. She had brought her most Vulcan attitude to Enterprise three years ago, he was pretty sure they had earned her respect in the end. "Soval seems to and T'Pol definitely did." He says sadly.

Trip looks away for a second. "Yeah, she did. But I don't think the High Command conspired to take away her career and destroy her reputation so they could get her back home to award her the Vulcan Medal of Logical Thinking."

Malcolm nods in acknowledgement. "That goes without saying."

"You know what bugs me the most Malcolm? We don't need them looking over our shoulders, trying to help us forward while at the same time holding us back. We don't even need their tech. We're smart enough, and driven enough, and innovative enough to get there on our own.

Malcolm has nothing to say to that, it is the truth.

"That's the thing that makes me the maddest, Mal. Not the Vulcan's, they've always had their own agenda, I don't expect anything different from them. But Starfleet, we're all out here busting our guts and risking our lives for them, for Earth. Same was true for T'Pol and she owed Earth nothing. That they consider her so expendable, makes me wonder if they would the behave any differently for any of us in similar circumstances."

Malcolm decides to play Devi's advocate. "She was using the trellium. You and I both saw her, she wasn't herself at Azati Prime."

Trip snorts. "By that assessment the Captain and I should have been sent to Vulcan with her."

Malcolm's eyebrows go up. "What do mean? Were you all shooting up trellium together in the Captain's dinning room?" He quips, in rather poor taste he has to admit.

Trip gives another tight smile. "Let's face it Mal, I was barely holding it together for most of the time last year and the Captain: if he wasn't heading off on another suicide mission, he was pirating warp drives or cloning me. It's not surprising T'Pol couldn't cope, it probably seemed like she'd spent months trying to keep me or the Captain from throwing ourselves out the airlock, and all while struggling with a terminal illness."

Malcolm nodded in acknowledgement. "It was a difficult mission. I think everyone had their moments but it was especially hard on the three of you, for different reasons."

Malcolm paused, wondering whether to say more. "You know, I looked over all the records of Azati Prime. According to the Captain, the Reptilians knew we were there before he even left Enterprise to destroy the weapon. They discovered the destruction of the moon base soon after it happened. Unless we'd gotten out of there the second we destroyed that base, we were pretty much doomed as soon as we were scanned. As for the attack on Enterprise, I analysed the strategy, we were out gunned and out numbered. It would have taken a miracle for any Commanding Officer to get a ship out of that situation in one piece."

Trip nods and swallows. "That just makes it worse somehow." He says sadly.

Malcolm realises he has to agree.

After a moment he decides it's time to try and nudge Trip out of his funk. "So I guess we move on. We managed to extract the stick out of T'Pol's arse eventually. I guess we have to start working on Skippy's now." He quips.

Trip gives him a sad smile. "Winning all of Vulcan over, one stick at a time."

"That's the spirit mate, it's a big job so we'd better get started if we're going to have them all converted by Christmas." He slaps Trip on the shoulder as he says it.

Trip looks down and rubs his eyes. "I don't think I can do it anymore, Malcolm." He says quietly.

Malcolm feels a knot of worry form in his stomach. "What, converting Vulcans? Don't worry, we'll sick Hoshi on him, that girl can be like terrier when she sets her mind to something. Remember the lengths she went to, to find out my favourite food. Skippy doesn't stand a chance."

"I mean Starfleet, Mal. I've been with them for fifteen years now, my entire adult life. I've nearly died several times, I've had relationships breakdown, I missed my own sister's funeral, but I did it because I believed in what we were doing, I believed in Starfleet. But what they did to T'Pol, they could do to any one of us if it suits them. I don't trust them with my life anymore."

Malcolm presses his lips together in worry. "But you love your job."

"Yeah, well, you can love your job as much as you like, but it's never going to love you back."

The chirp of the comms means Malcolm doesn't get a chance to answer.

"Archer to Tucker."

Trip, crosses to the comm unit.

"Go ahead, Captain." He responds

Malcolm notices that Trip pronounces the Captain's name in full, not with the usual dropped sounds.

"Report to my ready room." Archer's voice sounds terse.

"On my way." Trip clears his table and starts to leave the room, Malcolm follows him.

"Any idea what that's about?" He asks Trip as they enter the corridor.

Trip stops suddenly and looks at him frankly. "He probably wants to discuss the resignation letter I sent Starfleet about thirty minutes ago." With that bombshell he heads off down the passage to the turbo lift.

Malcolm stands stock still, watching him depart. It's several moments before he remembers to breathe.

Archer

Still reeling from an uncomfortable comms call from Command, Archer can't help but feel a little resentment towards Trip for dropping him in it like that. He spends the five or so minutes it takes Trip to get from E Deck to the Bridge, stoking the fires of his rage. It's been a bad enough couple of weeks as it is, losing T'Pol and Phlox, without Commander Tucker getting all petulant and having a virtual sulk to Starfleet about having to share his engines with a Vulcan.

Once Trip is in the room, Archer doesn't waste time or spare words telling the Commander exactly what he thinks of this latest stunt. It's not enough that Trip has tendered his resignation, obviously a move to leverage against Sub-Commander S'Kypp, it's the damming assessment of the moral fibre of Starfleet that had Command so riled.

"You're lucky they don't bust you down to Ensign, Trip. What the hell were you thinking. You're lucky you're the best engineer in the fleet and they're willing to cut you some slack after a stunt like that." He looks at the Commander and realises that Trips pose has remained fixed for the entire tirade, back stiff, feet shoulder width apart, hands behind his back, eyes fixed on the back wall. He looks determined. What he does not look, is contrite.

"Are you finished Captain?" He asks, a slight hint of sarcasm in his voice."

Suddenly Archer starts to feel nervous, as though maybe this wasn't Trip just shooting his mouth off to the Higher Ups, but a sincere expression of his intentions. "Yes, I am."

"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Trip's face doesn't change.

Archer swallows the ridiculous urge to refuse him. Tell him to hold his tongue so the can just go back to being two buddies exploring the galaxy, and forget about this latest episode. Just another hurdle in the race to explore space. But he knows he can't, there's too much water under the bridge. "Permission granted, Commander."

"Firstly Sir, it would illegal for them to demote me after I have formally tendered my resignation, Starfleet regulations and EU law are pretty clear about that. Secondly, I believe, I stated in my letter that I was not interested in remaining associated with an organisation that treats its loyal personal like commodities whose lives and reputations can be traded for goods and services. Thirdly, I'm not the best engineer in the fleet anymore, Captain. I just tendered my resignation and it wasn't a stunt."

Archer just stared at him for a minute, mouth hanging open. "Jesus, Trip! Are you serious, this is really it?"

Trip's hard expression suddenly softens a little at Archer's obvious shock. "Yeah, it really is. I can't stay with Starfleet anymore. Not after what they did to T'Pol."

Archer rubs his eyes, trying to see how things got so bad so quickly. They were heroes two weeks ago. "I can't understand why you couldn't come to me about this Trip. Maybe we could've worked something out."

Suddenly the fight goes out of Trip, he sits in the seat against the wall and rests his forehead on his clenched hands. He look up at Archer, imploring him to understand. "I didn't come to you because I didn't want you to talk me out of it. It's not about you, it's about Starfleet, I can't continue to give my loyalty to an organisation that sees us as something that can be sacrificed as it sees fit."

"Christ Trip, I knew you were close to T'Pol, but I never thought you would throw your career away for her."

"I'm not throwing my career away, I get at least ten job offers a week from the private sector." He looks away for a minute and takes a deep breath, then looks back. "And we were more than friends."

"Look, I know you knew her better than anyone on this ship, Trip. But are you sure you want to pass up the opportunity to get your hands on this tech."

"Jon, I 'knew' her better than anyone anywhere, and I don't want to touch something that came at the expense of her career and reputation."

Trip's emphatic tone and the rare use of his first name, suddenly caught Archer's attention. "Just how well did you know her?"

Trip takes another deep breath, and looks away again with his tongue in his cheek. "In the biblical sense, Jon; as in 'Adam knew Eve, and forth came Cain'."

The fight goes out of Archer, he's lost Trip and he knows it. He shakes his head and gives a dry laugh. "You and T'Pol, I wouldn't have predicted that when we launched three years ago. I guess it shouldn't be that much of a surprise, I did meet your son a couple of months ago." He presses his lips together and looks away for a second. "Was it serious?"

Trip puts his forehead back on his clenched hands. "Yeah, I think it was. But after what happened at that witch hunt, at first, I bought into everything they said about her and she saw it. So she went back to Vulcan and now she's going to marry someone else and I've just got to get on with my life."

"So you're leaving out of loyalty to T'Pol?"

"No, I'm leaving because of a lack of loyalty from Starfleet. Because they destroyed her, and what's to stop them doing the same to any one of us if it suits them?"

"It's not going to be the same without you, Trip."

"Yeah, I know Capt'n" for the first time since Archer called him in the mess hall, Trip uses the contracted pronunciation of his title. "But it probably wasn't going to be the same anyway."

Archer nods, "It probably wasn't." He agrees and watches as Trip gets out of the chair.

Trip heads to the door and turns to look at him a sad look on his face, "Command is probably going to want to meet with me for a debriefing and to hash out any final details of my departure. If you don't mind, I think it might be best if I catch a ride back Earthside with Travis on one of his runs this afternoon. So I'm going head back to my quarters and pack my things."

Jon, just nods again, and he watches silently as Trip leaves the room. He's suddenly finding it difficult to speak. He's suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

XXX