Chapter 17

"Are you sure about this?" Trip asked as he looked at the saddled horse next to him. He was in his chair on a large ramp.

"We're sure." Taryn smiled at her cousin Emily who was on the far side of the horse as she dropped the arm on his chair. "This is new to you but Warrior here is an old hand at this."

"He's a sweet old boy son." Reg II said holding the horses bridle. "You'll be fine." He patted the chestnut horse's neck and smiled.

"How do I get on?" Trip asked.

"Lift your right leg onto his saddle," Emily explained, "grab the horn and we'll steer you as you pull yourself across."

"I'm going to get behind you and pretend to give you a boost, but I'm really copping a feel." Taryn whispered in his ear as she slid her hand under his left thigh. "We're going to say one, two, three slide okay. Are you ready? One, two, three slide." They eased him across into the saddle and began fastening straps, one each side over his hips and at strategic points on his legs securing him to the stirrup leather and fender of the western saddle.

"As you get stronger and more used to it you'll probably find you prefer less straps and we can take some off." Emily explained. "It'll be like learning to ride again, for a while anyway. Say 'whoa' to make him stop. 'w-a-l-k' to make him go. 'Easy' to calm him down if you feel concerned."

Trip nodded. "Walk." He smiled with surprise as Warrior began to move off. Reg II walked with them for a while but soon Trip was brave enough to roam the paddock on his own. "How do I ask him to trot?" he asked then nodded as Warrior picked up pace having heard the word.

"He was like that as a kid." Reg II said to Taryn. "Couldn't wait to gallop off."

"Woah. Want to join me?" Trip asked and offered her his hand. She ignored his hand in favour of grabbing the saddle not wishing to risk unseating him and jumped up behind him, her hands holding his chest. "Trot Warrior. Good boy." he said as they trotted around the paddock. He turned as Taryn whispered in his ear. "Canter." he ordered and Warrior picked up the pace again.

"You seem happy." Taryn smiled and snuggled into his shoulder.

"When Dad said I could still ride I didn't really believe him. This is amazing. It almost feels like walking again. Not like Frankenstein's monster with the stimulators. Really walking." he told her.

"A lot of people have told Miffy that over the years." She sighed. "We should stop soon, you'll be getting tired. You'll be using unfamiliar muscles." she warned. "Maybe we could go for a longer ride tomorrow along the bridleway if you aren't too sore after your physiotherapy. What do you think?"

"Okay." he agreed reluctantly. "Miffy will tan our hides if she catches us riding double anyway."

…

"I'm not going to pull any punches with you, this course of treatment can be gruelling. The protocol is a half hour treatment with an eight hour recovery during which you'll be unable to move. Many experience flu like symptoms for the following seven days. Fever, nausea and vomiting, chills. We repeat the treatment every fourteen days for a cycle of six treatments. Then after four weeks we can begin a new cycle." Dr Bashir explained.

"And he'll be conscious throughout?" Taryn asked. "You're talking about firing a low intensity plasma shock at his back with him fully conscious and you aren't even certain it will work?" she shook her head.

"He needs to be conscious to monitor his neurological status." Bashir explained. "Because this treatment stimulates stem cells in neural tissue your husband's genetic abnormality complicates matters and will make it less effective."

"And the holographic simulations you've run?" Taryn asked.

"They indicate a forty percent likelihood of regeneration of spinal cord tissue of between three and five microns each cycle in your husband's case."

"Wait? I was led to believe this treatment could be measured in millimetres and you're talking about microns per cycle?" Taryn stated incredulously. She looked at Trip in alarm.

"Five microns in the right place could restore my urological function, or the nerves to my bowel." Trip stated. "Or some of the sensation in my genital area."

"Or it could leave you in permanent pain." Dr Bashir advised him. "I can only offer options. There is no miracle cure."

"You've already decided to go ahead with this. Explaining this to me is just a formality isn't it?"

"Taryn, we're remarried now and you're part of this decision." Trip grasped her hand.

"If you were sitting where he is, would you think it was wise for your patient to undergo this procedure with odds like forty percent? With all the pain and risk that it entails?" Trip looked at the ceiling in response and closed his eyes. "I thought so." she whispered.

"I'm not sitting that side of the table, I'm sitting in this chair with… implants ionising my bodily waste. I can't practice as a doctor or a vet from this chair."

"This isn't a cure." Taryn stated.

"No, but in combination with the stimulators it could make a big difference." Trip stated.

"So what are we committing to? A treatment? A cycle?" Taryn asked.

"A cycle. Less than that will be of no benefit, however you can withdraw from the treatment at any stage if the side-effects are too extreme. Many don't stay the course." Bashir stated.

…

"You don't have to be here." Trip said as he lay face down on the treatment table.

"Yes I do." Taryn replied as she pulled up a stool and sat, her arms resting on the end of the table and her face close to his. She was wearing a red surgical gown with her hair covered by a cowl, as were the rest of the team working in the room.

"I'm probably going to be a wimp about this." he forced a smile.

"Doctors always make the worst patients." she told him as she rubbed his arms. "Besides, I know you're a wimp. I've seen you on a transporter platform. All flop sweat and white as a sheet. That away mission was why I finally gave in and went out with you."

"If I'd known pity would work I'd have been pathetic in front of you earlier." he mused. "That colour doesn't do you any favours Sweet-stuff. You look like a scarlet nun." he smirked. "A cute scarlet nun anyway."

"We're about to activate the restraint field Trip." Dr Bashir stated. "You'll be unable to move from your upper chest down for the duration of the procedure."

"Okay." Trip replied and took both of Taryn's hands in his.

"Charge the activator, stand by for first burst." Bashir ordered.

"Ready doctor." a technician responded.

"Activating." Bashir said coldly.

Trip let out a blood curdling scream as the plasma canon fired into his spine in pulses. He grasped Taryn's hands with all his strength and collapsed bathed in sweat as it completed its firing pattern.

"What's your full name?" a nurse asked him.

"R…Reginald Endicott Barclay the Third." he replied.

"How old are you?" she asked.

"What the fuck?" Taryn exclaimed. "Is this a hospital or the fucking Inquisition?"

"It's okay, they're standard questions to gauge my cognitive function. I'm forty-nine."

"I know but they're torturing you. It's like…" He grasped her wrist to calm her.

"What's your wife's middle name?"

"Boudicca." he replied.

"Sign here please?" He took the stylus and signed. She blanched on recognising the most basic of fine motor function tests.

"Stand by for the second burst." Bashir stated. "Activating." She closed her eyes as her husband screamed and pleaded for them to stop. His hand still gripping hers.

"What's 17x189?" the nurse asked.

"3213" he replied, sweat on his brow and tears in his eyes.

"Your mother's first name?"

"Alicia." he responded.

"The name of your dog?"

"J'hordak."

"Please sign?"

Tears rolled down Taryn's face as Bashir called the third burst, knowing there would be twenty-two more.

…

"Stop. Pull over." Trip gagged as she steered the hovercar into a layby. He opened the door and vomited over the kerb. She got out and ran around to his side of the car carrying a bag.

"It's okay Sweetie. I came prepared." she said holding his head and rubbing his shoulders as he leaned out of the car being violently sick. She pulled a packet containing moist wipes from the bag and wiped his face tenderly as soon as he stopped. "There. Is that better?"

"Did you bring the whole house?" he asked looking at the size of the bag. "You're going to be a great mom. You're already like Mary Poppins." She handed him a cool pack that he placed on the back of his neck. It felt soothing and wonderful.

"You learn how to pack a go bag like this after many field trips with unruly small children." She smiled and pulled out a flask from behind his seat. "This may help, it's ginger tea." she said as she poured some into a cup. "Miffy and Mum swear by it for morning sickness, I thought it might settle your tum a little."

"It's nice." He forced a smile after he sipped a little. The tea was pleasant but he felt terrible. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"For bringing tea. For not saying I told you so. For sitting with me for over eight hours where I did nothing but moan and cry. When he said I wouldn't be able to move for that long I thought I'd be restrained, I didn't think I'd be terrified to move because it hurt so much." He sipped some more tea and squeezed her hand as she rubbed his upper arm. He was in his underwear, a t-shirt and shorts. He'd been in too much pain to dress further and been desperate to leave the hospital but fortunately it was a warm day. Medically there was no need for him to stay and they tended to keep everyone in till morning if they were there into the evening.

"We should keep going if you're up to it. I can take better care of you at the cottage than I can at the roadside."

"You take amazing care of me wherever I am." He finished the tea and handed her the cup which she shook out and returned to the top of the flask. She handed him something from the bag before she fastened it. "Sick bags? Darling, how did you know?" he said facetiously at her gift and shifted in his seat grimacing in pain.

"Do you want your hypospray?" she asked.

"No, I can't have any more yet. It's too soon." he replied as she stood and closed the wing door then returned to her side of the car and stowed her bag. "I feel like shit." he told her.

"I know Sweetie." she said as she re-joined the highway.

"You were right." he stated.

"I'm always right." she reminded him with a smirk.

"No…I can do research or write. Maybe if I set up in practice with a partner to do the leg work I could still keep my hand in. I can ride, we can still make love. Maybe walking, pissing and shitting aren't all they're cracked up to be."

"You have two weeks to think about it. See how you feel once you get through this week." She grasped his hand that was on his thigh. "Let's play everything by ear okay?"

"I can be a dad sitting down I suppose."

"Is that what this is about?" Taryn asked. "Trip, our biological mothers were awful, they walked out on us. Pun intended. Whether you can walk or not doesn't define you as a man and it certainly won't define you as a father."

"I suppose so." he pouted and folded his arms. Looking out of the car pensively. "I just…before all this happened I could contribute around the stables and now I'm…I feel useless."

"Trip, you're still in rehab. Give yourself some time?" Taryn advised.

"That's all I keep hearing, give it time." Trip snapped.

"How many times have you given patients that advice?"

"Touché." he conceded.

…

"God this is boring." Trip complained as he sat on the static bike peddling using the stimulators strapped to his legs. "This journal sucks too." he flung the padd across the room. "I went to medical school with the guy who wrote that article and he didn't know his gluteus maximus from his antecubital fossa. He couldn't find his scrotum with both hands and a torch."

"What's his article about?" Taryn asked idly as she flicked through her communiques.

"The application of humanoid surgical techniques on amoebic life forms." Trip replied acidly.

"So he likes to slice up blobs. Why are you so pissed off about it?" she said distractedly. "It's not Zoonotic Diseases. He's hardly encroaching on your specialty."

"He just got a fellowship at the Daystrom Institute." Trip pouted. "Living proof that even turds can float to the top."

"Trip, Daystrom rejected my thesis proposal. Get over it. I'll try again." She turned and looked at him pedalling with his arms folded.

"What?" he asked her.

"Have you thought about trying a real bike if you're bored pedalling in here?"

"I don't think I could balance a real bike. I'm doing this because I keep falling over when I stand up. I just can't get the hang of it but I need the exercise."

"Being tall probably doesn't help. You could use your crutches?"

"Fuck the crutches." he replied coldly. "It's bad enough being crippled without looking like one."

She shook her head, there was just no talking to him when he was in this kind of mood but she certainly wasn't going to let him off the hook that easily. "How about a tricycle?"

"I'm not a toddler." he protested. "I'll look a total dick on a trike."

"You liked the look of those hand bikes your Dad found on that old Paralympic footage. We could come up with something like that but for your legs. Some kind of three wheeled recumbent bike." she suggested.

"That might be worth investigating." he said as the bike beeped and he stopped pedalling.

"Do you need a hand?" she offered.

"No, I need to do this myself." he replied curtly. "Thank you for the offer though." he added guiltily as he released the straps on the pedals with a button on the console of the bike. He put one foot down tentatively, as if seeing if it would take his weight. "Don't overthink it Barclay, just get off the bike." he muttered under his breath. He raised his other leg and swung it over the saddle but snagged his sweat pants on it and swore. He took his hand off the handlebars to extricate himself and overbalanced, landing in a heap on the floor. "Do I look like I broke anything?" he asked Taryn tiredly.

"No, your legs seem to be pointing in the right directions as far as I can tell." she told him and walked over to their kitchenette. She knew better than to offer to help him up unless he was obviously hurt.

He nodded and struggled to get to his knees. Then gave up and commando crawled over to the couch. He leaned on the seat with his upper body and pushed, struggling to get his legs under him. He grabbed the back of the couch and hauled himself to his feet, then turned and sat, examining his elbow.

"That's a good looking carpet burn." she told him as she appeared at his side with the first aid kit. "Let's check you for damage."

"I'm never going to get the hang of these things." he said forlornly as he pulled off the straps.

"Even if you don't walk with them, they're keeping your leg muscles working and helping you get a cardio work out." Taryn stated as she helped him pull down his sweat pants. "At least that's something."

"Your cheery optimism can grate on a person's nerves you know." he said darkly holding a dermal regenerator over his skint elbow.

"Just as well I'm good in bed too then isn't it?" she said brightly as she checked his legs. "Looks like you have a bruise coming up on this shin. You must have hit it on the bike."

"Let's see?" he said leaning forward. "Meh…That's not so bad. I'll leave it and see how it looks tonight." She nodded and kissed his injured shin followed by his lips. "What's that for?" he smiled.

"You've been like a bear with a sore chuff all day. I'm hoping to distract you from your shitty mood."

"Sorry." he said and pulled her onto his lap. "The last thing I want to do is piss off my beautiful wife."

"So what did you learn from that fall?" she asked, much in the way she spoke to her students.

"I learned that if I hurt myself you'll kiss it better for me." he kissed her neck.

"And?" He looked at her with a puzzled frown then continued kissing her face tenderly. "How about don't wear baggy trousers that can get hooked on the seat?" she suggested.

"Good point." he replied and pulled her top from her shoulder to kiss it. "I'll just stay naked all the time from now on."

…

"I wasn't this bad last time." he said forlornly as he sat on the floor next to the toilet where he'd just thrown up. His anti-grav chair was lying on its side by the bathroom door. "Deanna must think I'm really rude."

"Did you hurt yourself?" Taryn asked as she stepped over the chair and nudged it so it bobbed into its upright position then crouched at his side. "You're burning up." she said as she touched his forehead gently. "Do you want to lie down or get back in your chair?" She grabbed a washcloth and wiped his face tenderly.

"I don't know." he whimpered.

"Well you can't stay on the floor." Silently cursing the fact they didn't have an anti-grav unit, she got behind him, put her arms through his and grasped his forearms. "Ready?" she asked and he gripped his own wrists. She lifted him, pulling him over to his chair and into the seat.

"You aren't supposed to lift me like that. You'll hurt yourself." he chided weakly as she put his feet in the foot rests.

"I'm more likely to hurt you than me." she whispered apologetically.

"I have broad shoulders, I can take it." He forced a smile but it faded fast. "God I feel like the life got sucked out of me."

"It'll pass." she assured him and cupped his cheek in her hand. "You'll feel better before you know it."

"Can I do anything to help?" Deanna asked.

"I'm sorry I'm not much of a host at the moment." He forced a smile as the empath placed her hand on his shoulder.

"Can I get you something to drink Trip?" Troi asked.

"Ginger tea helps if you don't mind." he replied and she nodded.

"I had no idea he was this bad, I would have come earlier…" Deanna began after Trip had made his excuses and gone to bed.

"Oh, this is the worst he's been. He's certainly never crashed his chair into the woodwork and turfed himself out of it in a mad dash to the bathroom before. I think he was shy about throwing up in front of you." Taryn explained. "It's the regenerative therapy. Every other week he's riding, independent, out on his trike tear arsing around Wiltshire with his stimulators on with J'hordak running like the clappers beside him. The treatment knocks him sideways for a few days then he's back to his old self till the next session. He's fitter than he's been in years, you should see him with his shirt off. He looks really buff. Unfortunately, you just caught him on a bad day."

"Has there been any improvement?" Deanna asked.

"The first cycle he gained a micron of neural tissue."

"How long is a cycle?"

"Six sessions over twelve weeks." Taryn replied.

"Oh my God, that's…"

"It sucks." Taryn replied bluntly.

"But he told me the treatment won't enable him to walk. Why put himself through that?"

"He hopes it may restore some sensation or even his bowel and bladder control. He's struggling with the stimulators. He has good control but he's finding balancing on legs with no neural feedback extremely difficult. In cybernetics bi-pedal locomotion is among the toughest tricks to pull off. Just ask Data how many operations it takes him to perform it. Humanoids take it for granted." She sipped from the mug in her hand. "Until they lose the skill and have to learn it again."

"When you say restore sensation…" Deanna began.

"I certainly have no complaints in the bedroom and he hasn't voiced any." Taryn assured her. "It's very different…"

"Different how?" Deanna smiled, "My interest is professional. I sometimes have to counsel individuals with similar injuries and I'd value your opinion."

"It wouldn't bother me if it wasn't professional." Taryn smirked. "Trip is coy about these things, not me." She paused for a moment. "He says when I'm doing my stuff down below it's like watching me with someone else. It turns him on. It's like, you know how your brain is your biggest erogenous zone? He's lost the connection between his brain and his genitals. They both work but not in tandem anymore."

"And from a…functional point of view?"

Taryn smirked again. "He achieves erection easily with manual stimulation, experiences orgasm but ejaculation is either non-existent or retrograde. That's what it says in his notes anyway. He has ejaculated a few times but it's far from reliable and usually requires…equipment."

"So you'll still need help to conceive?"

"The signs are I'll go into pon farr during the next few months and we have a stasis unit in the bedroom. Let's just say we haven't let those ejaculations go to waste and fortunately my husband is a doctor." Taryn smiled.

…

"I am not sure it is a good idea to visit them unannounced Geordi." Data stated as he piloted the shuttle.

"Deanna's worried about him. You heard what she said. He looked like shit and although Taryn said it was temporary because of the therapy she's worried she's just putting a brave face on it." Geordi replied. "Whoa, someone's going like a bat out of hell down there." he commented as he spotted a hoverbike on the road below weaving in and out of traffic at high speed.

"They are certainly exceeding the speed restrictions for a carriageway of this type." Data added.

Geordi let out a low chuckle. "They must have hit a speed trap, look there's a cop on his tail."

"Why do you find that funny? Is it schadenfreude?" Data asked.

"Probably. When I was a kid I always got caught speeding. You should have seen the cops faces when they found out I was blind." he laughed.

"You repeatedly broke traffic regulations when you were young?" Data raised his brows. "I did not realise you were such a scofflaw."

"It's part of growing up Data. Breaking the rules, getting caught. Hopefully learning from the experience."

"It is surprising most humanoids reach adulthood without serious injury." Data commented.

"It's surprising some Humans reach adulthood at all." Geordi said as they circled to land. "Is this the place? No wonder B-4 likes it here." he commented as he looked out over the old manor house with sweeping grounds. "I thought it was a quaint bed and breakfast. It's a hotel." They landed outside the main house and disembarked and a fair haired young woman in a nearby paddock who was lunging a horse called out to them.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" she asked, shielding her eyes from the late afternoon sun with her hand. Data and Geordi recognised her as Taryn's cousin Emily, however it was clear they hadn't met her in this timeline.

"We're looking for Dr and Mrs Barclay." Data replied.

"Trip is out I think, but Taryn should be home. It's around the back of the main house, the second cottage on the left." she replied with a smile.

Data thanked her and the two men followed the path around to the holiday cottages and soon heard the sound of Taryn singing happily.

"Things cannot be that bad if she is singing so cheerfully." Data reasoned.

"Yeah, but Reg is out." Geordi argued. "She might be revelling in her temporary freedom."

"You suspect they are having marital difficulties again?" Data asked.

"I don't know Data. It can't be easy for either of them considering all that's happened." A dog began to bark as they drew closer and knocked on the door.

She seemed really pleased to see them and greeted them both with a warm hug.

"Trip will be back soon, he had a physio appointment at the hospital today. I was just having a tidy up while he's out from underfoot. Come in, come in. Can I get you anything?" Taryn asked politely. "J'hordak, quiet." she told the dog who was going berserk with excitement. "Sorry, have a seat and he'll calm down."

"Did Trip's dad take him to his appointment?" Geordi asked as she carried over a tray with a caffetiere.

"No he went on his own. He's been going under his own steam for a few weeks now." She said brightly and smirked at their surprised expressions. "Deanna sent you to check up on us didn't she?"

"She was… somewhat concerned." Data stated.

"I'm not surprised. I would be too if I popped in to visit a disabled friend and he ended up sprawled across the bathroom floor with spew down his shirt, but that really wasn't a typical day." She looked up at the sound of a hover vehicle pulling up outside. "That'll be my man now."

A few moments later Trip entered the cottage leaning heavily on crutches wearing the bands around his legs over bike leathers.

"How did go?" Taryn asked as she walked over to greet him.

"It was fine… Hi Geordi, Captain." Trip beamed. "I'd shake your hands but I tend to fall over if I let go." he staggered over to the couch and plopped onto it.

"Is that your hoverbike Trip?" Geordi asked looking out of the window.

"Yes, isn't she great?" he smiled, then momentarily cast a guilty look in Taryn's direction as he removed his jacket.

"What? What did you do?" she asked, spotting his expression.

"Nothing." Trip lied badly. "I may have to attend a driver education session in the next few weeks but that's purely voluntary."

"Purely voluntary?" she asked with an arched brow.

"Yes voluntary…if I don't want another speeding charge on my licence."

"We saw you, that was some slick riding." Geordi said. "I'm surprised the cop caught up with you."

Trip sniggered proudly at the compliment and Taryn slapped him across the upper arm. "I don't believe you Trip. Are you trying to make me a widow?"

"Ow! Don't hit me woman, I'm a cripple." Trip protested.

"Cripple my arse. You won't be happy till you're doing warp speed on that thing with your hair on fire."

"Come here." he said and pulled her onto his lap. "I'll be more careful in future, I promise." He pouted over her shoulder. "I'll even pinky swear."

"You said that last time, and the time before that." she reminded him moodily with her arms folded.

"I wanted to get home to you." he told her. "I missed you today."

"Really?" she asked with a pout. "Well, make more of an effort to get home to me in one piece or paraplegia will be the least of your worries." He smiled and kissed her shoulder.

"So how's the Enterprise?" Trip asked as he let Taryn up to serve the coffee. "We've been meaning to catch up with you all before you leave orbit."

"Everything is fine, except we are missing two department heads." Data stated.

"Yes, well. I still don't know if I'll ever be able to practice medicine on a starship." Trip replied.

"It was not my intention to pressure you…" Data stated.

"I know." Trip replied. "I could consult, I could still perform surgery but you need a doctor who can get to patients wherever they are no matter how remote. Alien environments, the floor." He smirked. "I just don't have the mobility anymore. On a ship I'd be ballast."

"Clever ballast." Taryn added with a smile as she handed him a drink.

"How's the job hunting going?" Geordi asked her.

"Awful, Daystrom rejected my doctoral thesis proposal. I'm currently working as a riding instructor here." she replied.

"May I read your proposal?" Data asked.

"Of course." she said and retrieved a padd from the desk and handed it to him. He scrolled through it in seconds.

"They rejected this?" Data raised his brows. "This could prove to be valuable research." he handed it to Geordi.

"You're studying variances in the manufacture of memory modules and anomalies it causes in the way they etch data?" Geordi looked at Data. He knew it was a fault in the fabrication of Bastion's core that allowed him to be sentient, but Bastion didn't exist in this timeline. Not yet anyway and never would if she abandoned this line of enquiry.

"I have a theory that some memory cores that are quality rejects could be able to sustain a consciousness in the way you do but other memory units don't. I thought I was on to something but Maddox shot it down. He chaired the review committee. I'll give it more thought and maybe come back to it later. I have a few other ideas too."

"The idiot should give you a job rather than discredit you. The man's a jerk." Trip stated angrily.

"I have to agree." Data added.

"He's never forgiven me for dropping cybernetics to work as an Ops Officer and then becoming a teacher. He told me I lack devotion to the science of robotics and don't have the dedication to earn a doctorate. He said if it mattered to me I'd have worked on it straight after my master's instead of enrolling at the Academy and going on to study Developmental Psych. Besides, cybernetics is a boy's club. I learned that when I was fourteen, there's nothing to be gained from being bitter about it." Taryn replied. "I've been talking to my friend Barsha. We're considering funding our own research and publishing it but that's a hard road to take and we're hopefully starting a family soon."

"And apparently I have you to thank Captain." Trip smiled. "I can't believe I didn't think of it."

"I am glad the information I stumbled upon was of help." Data smiled.

"I was thinking of going for a ride before dinner. Would you two like to come along?" Trip suggested.

"A ride? On a horse?" Geordi asked. "I've never ridden before."

"Nor have I." Data stated.

"Well, I happen to know a very patient riding instructor." Trip smiled.

"Are you sure I am not too heavy for him?" Data asked tentatively from the back of the horse.

"No, Obsidian is a Friesian. These horses can pull carts and used to carry men in full armour into battle. Besides, you aren't that heavy Captain." Taryn assured him as she gave him the reigns.

"Please, call me Data." he told her and she smiled.

"What's this one called?" Geordi asked.

"That's Turncoat." Trip called from the ramp as he transferred himself from his chair to Warrior unaided and fastened his legs to the saddle with the straps. They had also been impressed that he saddled him himself by altering the hovering height of his chair.

"Okay, always approach from the left, put your foot in the stirrup, grab the saddle and swing yourself up." Taryn told Geordi. "Lovely." she said and went round to make sure he found the other stirrup with his foot before mounting the horse she was going to take out, Widowmaker.

"I didn't expect you to be so independent." Geordi told Trip as they rode together. "Especially after Deanna told us…"

He gave an embarrassed smile. "Yeah, well the regen therapy was rough. I'm not carrying on with it. If it was just me I might but Taryn's been there for every moment and it's hard on her too. I've learned a lot of tricks in rehab, and here. I never realised how many disabled people ride until I was one." Trip explained. "Taryn's great at coming up with ideas of things I can still do and ways to adapt."

"How are things between the two of you?" Geordi asked.

"Better than ever." Trip grinned.

"You seem well." Data told Taryn.

"Thank you, I feel well. Professionally I'm in a bit of a black hole but I'm content, happy. It's great having time together. We've always been so busy."

Emily rushed up to them on the hoverquad they used to deliver feed to the paddocks. "It's Brandy, her foal is breeched." she shouted. "She kicked the foetal transporter. It's buggered."

"We're going to need someone strong Data." Taryn said dismounting her horse as Trip galloped back to the stables. "Emily, can you take care of Geordi and the horses and I'll take Data on the quad?" she asked and Emily nodded.

Trip was back in his chair outside the stable and fastening his stimulators when they arrived moments later.

"I don't know if I can do this." he told Taryn quietly as she entered the stable. Brandy was lying down and clearly in distress.

"You'll be fine." she assured him. "We need to get her standing Data." she explained as Trip pulled off his sweater and washed his hands in a bucket.

"Geordi, I'm going to need you to hold me up." he told his friend as he arrived. "We need to get this foal out fast." He pulled a long glove on and covered it with lube. "We need to do it the old fashioned way."

"Man, I'm not even gonna ask where that arms going." Geordi said as he supported his friend. "Aw Jeez." he winced as Trips arm disappeared inside the mare as Taryn held back her bandaged tail and she and Data held her steady.

"Come on baby, give me that hoof." Trip grunted as he groped around. "There." he said and struggled to pull it out. "Em, get the chains ready?"

"Already done." she replied as he hunted for the other foot.

Trip strained as he pulled up the other foot. "Okay," he said as he rapidly looped the chains around the foal's feet, "now we pull." He and Geordi heaved like a tug of war until the foal dropped onto the straw. "Let me down." Trip stated and he dropped onto his side. He cleared the membrane from the foals face. "Come on little fella." he urged as he suctioned the foals nose and mouth and encouraged him to breathe. "Taryn?" he asked and she grabbed the foals back legs tipping him upside down for a few moments before lowering him to the floor. Trip slapped his ribcage a few times before cupping his hands around the foal's snout and blowing into his nose a few times. "There we are." he grinned as the foal began to breathe and wriggle. "Let's leave them to it. Mommy can do the rest."

"That was a remarkable experience." Data stated as they watched the mother clean up her foal from a discreet distance. He was already standing on wobbly legs and trying to nurse.

"You can say that again." Geordi grinned.

"It's usually not such a panic but the little guy decided to shove his butt out first instead of his front feet." Trip explained, back in his chair. "You can lose them if you don't get them out fast. They suffocate."

"He's gorgeous." Taryn said as she helped Emily unsaddle and brush the horses they had been riding.

"He's yours." Emily told him.

"I thought you had plans for him?" Trip asked with surprise.

"Yes, we planned to give him to you as a birthday gift last week, but he was late arriving." Emily grinned. "Warrior isn't pacey enough for you and our more challenging mounts aren't trained to voice commands. It'll be a long time till he's old enough but his little fella should run like the wind given his family tree. We'll help you train him and everything and he'll always be welcome to livery here. But he'll be yours the same way Obsidian is Taryn's. No one else will ride him without your permission."

"I don't know what to say." Trip smiled. "…Thank you of course." he added with a grin. "We've got three fur-babies now." he told Taryn as she moved beside him. "Two horses and a dog."

"Still think you can't practice?" Taryn asked Trip askance.

"I'd need help." he stated. "Maybe I'll ask around? See if some newly qualified vets need a job."

"I'm sure Miffy would let you use one of the outbuildings she hasn't converted yet. There isn't a vet for miles around here." Emily stated.

Trip gazed thoughtfully at his foal. Maybe he could still open his own veterinary practice. It had always been a childhood dream.