A/N: I know I've written Trena'l into a real monster, but there was reason to my madness. Starting with this chapter, I'm going to just love taking him down!

Enjoy!

Violations

Chapter Nineteen - Damage Control

For thirty clear seconds, Jonathan Archer was sure he'd misheard what Trip had just said to him. No, he'd imagined it. Overdone the coffee. Eaten some dodgy cheese. Or, as his friend never tired of reminding him, those '…advancin' years…' really were starting to tell.

Any, or all, of these had to explain it. Because there was no way, in hell, that he could have possibly heard the completely impossible.

'Jon, I - I want to see him.'

That thought died its death, though, as Jon found the truth of reality, still there in Trip's eyes. They were unbelievably calm, and bullishly determined. More determined, Jon realized, than he'd ever seen them before.

Dear God, he was serious. And through that moment of realization, Jon finally managed to find his voice.

"No, Trip. No, absolutely not. There's no way I can let you do this."

From the way Trip's eyes changed, Jon knew this wasn't the reaction his friend had been expecting. Surprise, dismay, maybe a dash of hurt too, had caused them to widen. Now they narrowed. Darkened by the tiniest shade, and… oh, yeah. He knew what that meant.

Through eight years of friendship, he could count the serious arguments they'd had on one hand. He was going to have to move quickly now, to avoid this one requiring the use of the other.

"I'm sorry, Trip, but no. You've been through hell already. And you're still recovering from it."

Not much of an olive branch, he had to admit. But, to his relief, Trip still seemed willing to accept it. As the tension left his face, so his eyes lightened back to their usual, cool clear blue. He even managed a slight, if rueful smile. A concession of gratitude for his friend's natural concern.

"Yeah, Jon, I – I know that. An' I know you're just tryin' to protect me, as you always do, but…"

Leaving that thought unfinished, Trip then frowned and sighed, running his hand through his hair. It left the blond mop more tousled than ever. Showed its need to trim it back to 'regulations length.'

But, Jon thought dryly, he'd keep quiet about that. That wasn't his main concern right now. Instead, he focussed, with real pride and admiration on the rest of Trip's calm, if still hesitant reply.

"I wish I could explain it better, Jon… or understand it myself, but… Jon, I – I have to do this! Please, you've - you've got to let me do this."

With the benefit of calmer thinking himself, Jon was also starting to understand his reasoning. And as Trip himself now reminded him, there were more reasons too, for why he had to face the Xyrillian scientist who'd put him through this awful ordeal.

"I – I know what Major Tol'ren told you. Why there won't be a trial for this," he said at last, giving himself a moment to remember the first victims of Trena'l's research, and grieve for their loss. Even with the support of Jon's hand on his shoulder, he needed several more before he could continue.

"For everythin' they did to their own people, with all that against 'em, they'll be convicted, just for that. So I won't need to tell their Council what they… what they did to me."

Now in full, big brother mode, Jon just nodded – letting the gratitude on his face speak for them both. Knowing that Trip would be spared the ordeal of going through all this again had been a massive relief for him. And, of course, even more so for Trip. From that, he'd assumed his friend would be even more grateful, to just put this all behind him, and move on, but – well, as he should maybe have realized, long before now, his chief engineer was just full of surprises.

Still quietly, he revealed another of them now. One that, Jon had to admit, he hadn't even considered.

"But what happens when we get a real distress call? When lives are at stake, and someone really does need my help? I - I mean, what am I meant to do, Jon? Tell 'em I'm sorry, an' just leave 'em to it?"

The pride he already felt grew even deeper now, as Jon measured Trip's words against his character. Yes, this was the Trip Tucker he knew so well. The one that, just days ago, he feared he'd lost forever. Never one to ignore those in trouble. Never one to pass by, and leave it to someone else to help instead.

And, more than that, never one to back down from a fight - especially from one that had hurt him as deeply as this.

Beyond all doubt now, this was his Trip. He heard it, too, through every word that he said next.

"If I walk away from this, Jon, it'll mean he's won. It'll mean he's beaten me, an'... Jon, I just can't let him do that."

Again, Jon was left lost for words as he studied his friend. Saw the determination beyond the silent plea in Trip's eyes. He'd made a remarkable recovery from his ordeal, and he could see it too now. Trip was right. That recovery couldn't be fully complete until he faced, and defeated, the very worst of its demons.

With or without that famous Southern stubbornness, Jon knew this an argument he just wasn't going to win. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that part of him, most of him, didn't even want to.

If facing Trena'l could bring Trip the closure he needed to put this nightmare behind him, then - yes. Yes, he had to do this. But he'd do it on his friend's, his Captain's, his protector's terms.

"All right, Trip. If you're sure, then… yes, we'll do this. But on two, non negotiable conditions."

Just as he'd done earlier, it was now Trip's turn to recognize the tone of Jon's voice, and give it the respect it deserved. He was already nodding agreement to the first provision which, in truth, he'd already known was coming.

"If he tries any of those mind games he used on me and Malcolm, I get you the hell out of there…"

"…'fore you an' Malcolm paste his sorry ass all over the nearest wall," Trip finished for him, knowing from the way Jon smiled back at him that his other leap of intuition had, again, been right on the money.

"You'd better believe it. And one more thing, Trip. All the time we're in that cruiser, or Trenal's ship, or in that cell block, we don't let you out of our sight."

That was another given too, of course, that he'd already anticipated. And, again, he accepted it with that familiar determination. Jon, though, was still naturally worried about what he was about to face.

Trip had, of course, thought of that too. Five minutes later, and with his Captain's proudest blessing, he patched a call through his comm link, and set that plan into motion.

"Hey, T'Pol? That, uh, offer you made me last night? About meditatin' ? Keepin' control of my mind, an' all that? Well, I'd like to take you up on it."