Chapter Text
…Enterprise…
Heart in her throat, Hoshi ran forward. Connors was on the ground, arms up as a dark figure crouched over him.
“Stop!” She shouted.
Then her brain came back online and she repeated it in the alien’s language.
The alien officer hesitated.
“Get her off me!” Connors shouted, pushing at the alien.
The officer looked back down at Connors and hissed a profanity.
“We’re friends.” Hoshi tried.
The woman looked up again.
“Jei?” Hoshi tried.
“Monster knows Jei?” The officer asked.
“We’re looking for you and two others. Do you know where they are?”
The officer slowly climbed off Connors and fell into a crouch a few feet away. Carefully, Hoshi approached and gave Connors a hand up. The EV suit and some awkwardly placed roots made getting up an ordeal but by the time he was standing again, the alien officer was also standing, looking more present.
“I am Ma’ri. Who are you?”
“We’re humans. I’m Hoshi, this is Connors.” She indicated to herself and Connors. “We were passing the planet when Captain Col asked for our help to find you.”
“Col is still here?”
“Yes.”
“But it’s been years.”
Hoshi glanced at Connors but he just looked blank. Oh, of course, the UT wasn’t working.
Hoshi shook her head. Priorities. “Do you know where the others are?”
Ma’ri shook her head. “Not behind me I don’t think.”
Hoshi relayed what she’d learned to the Commander.
“Great.” He offered. “Let’s head back with her. We can contact Enterprise from their ship and see where the others are. Restock and return if we need to.”
While his argument was good, it still felt like abandoning the others to Hoshi. Not that she’d voice that thought out loud. Noticing Ma’ri sagging where she stood, Hoshi agreed.
They wouldn’t leave the planet without the others. At least, she wouldn’t.
…
Malcolm heard voices before he reached the clearing. Creeping up as stealthily as he could in a damn EV suit, Malcolm took stock of the scene. Two strangers resembling the missing crew members were hugging in the middle of the clearing. They were talking in low tones and it looked like an act of comfort. The likelihood they were two of the people he was looking for rose.
Steeling himself, he approached. As they heard him, they pulled apart and faced him. He couldn’t read their expressions but their body language read as wary.
One of them called something. Without Hoshi or a working UT, Malcolm had no idea of the exact words. From context he could guess the meaning of the call though. He responded with the hand gesture and phrase Captain Col had taught the away team earlier. Hoshi had said that it meant roughly ‘trust’.
The aliens exchanged a look before the one who’d spoken earlier returned the gesture. She said something else and Malcolm pushed down his frustration. He repeated the phrase, hoping they’d understand that was the extent of his vocabulary.
The alien who hadn’t spoken yet said something to her companion. Tone unclear.
Remembering the names, Malcolm took another step forward and tried pronouncing them. The aliens looked back at him. The more chatty one introduced herself as San and her companion as Jei.
Malcolm put a hand on his chest. “Malcolm.”
They repeated it and feeling a weight lift off his shoulders, Malcolm held back a sigh. He indicated back to the path and they followed him.
He checked his o2 tank: two and a half hours. Enough to get back to the alien ship. There he could restock, contact Enterprise and then go back for the others.
“Leave him alone!”
Malcolm froze. That had been Captain Archer’s voice.
He looked back at Jei and San. They’d also stopped, looking alert. So the shout probably hadn’t been a hallucination then.
“Captain Archer?” Malcolm shouted.
No response. Then.
“No!”
Malcolm was moving before he’d even registered the desperation, the sheer anguish in the shout. He pushed through the trees and came to another clearing. Captain Archer was on his knees, back to Malcolm.
“Captain!”
The Captain twitched but didn’t turn around. Malcolm vaguely registered that the aliens had caught up.
“Captain Archer.” Malcolm repeated.
That time Archer didn’t respond. Instead he curled over slightly.
Worried the man was injured, Malcolm quickly strode around to the Captain’s front. He was cradling air and now closer, Malcolm could hear muted sobs.
“Captain, whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”
“It’s my fault.” Archer muttered.
Malcolm knelt down awkwardly and put a gloved hand on Archer’s arm. “Sir.”
Archer looked up, eyes wet. “I left him when he needed me.”
Unless there was something major Malcolm didn’t know about the Captain, he could guess who Archer was seeing.
“Trip is on Columbia.” He tried.
Archer’s eyes fell to the invisible person he was holding. “I failed him.” Archer continued. “He gave me so much and all I ever did was hurt him.”
Archer’s low o2 alarm began beeping.
“Jon!” Malcolm snapped.
Archer looked up again, frowning.
“Your crew needs you! Snap out of it!”
Malcolm saw the moment clarity hit the Captain. He blinked a few times before looking around.
“Malcolm?”
“Yes, sir. I’ve found Jei and San but we need to get them back to their ship.”
Archer stood, Malcolm joining him and turned around to see the aliens. They made the greeting sign which Archer returned slowly.
“Hoshi and Connors?” He asked.
“I haven’t seen them since before I noticed I’d lost you.” Malcolm reported.
“They would have headed for the ship if they were able.” Archer said as he approached the aliens.
He said the phrase from Captain Col, which the others returned. Together they all headed back.
Malcolm split his attention between searching for signs of the others and watching Archer’s back in front of him. He could guess at the particulars of what Archer had seen but the general theme fit what he knew of the Captain’s recent emotional state. Though perhaps the feelings of guilt were more intense and ran deeper than Malcolm had suspected.
In Trip’s last letter he’d asked about Archer, implying the man hadn’t been in contact himself. Three guesses as to why. As much as Malcolm might feel Archer had hurt Trip through neglect, willful ignorance or for whatever reason, Malcolm knew that Trip was taking Archer’s silence as condemnation and hatred. The misunderstanding needed to be rectified. Fast.
They arrived back to the alien ship with no more issues: Jei and San breaking into a run as they saw it through the trees. Malcolm was relieved to see Hoshi and Connors already there, having found and brought back the third crewmember. Their o2 tanks had even been topped up by Captain Col. She thanked them all and Archer handled it with all his usual charm.
He kept it brief though as clearly everyone was eager to get on and leave the planet. Travis came down in shuttle pod one and picked them up.
As they were getting in, Malcolm looked to see San and Col rest their foreheads together. His heart ached as he remembered Trip’s arms around him.
You’ll see him again, he told himself.
The vague promise made the distance a little easier to bear.
Everyone was subdued on the flight back and in Decon. Malcolm made a mental note to check in with Hoshi…and Connors too.
The commander had settled somewhat. Ever since the incident with the future ship, Hess had reported that Connors had shown more respect for the team. Malcolm had noticed Connors brought up his own achievements less and asked more about other officers. He’d even seen the man eating in the Mess instead of sulking when he wasn’t invited to the Captain’s table.
As much as Malcolm wanted to be petty, he acknowledged that it would be only fair to make an effort to fold Connors into the crew further. After all, Trip had done the same for him. Malcolm would pay the favor forward, even though that would be more tangible proof that Trip wouldn’t be coming back.
It was evening by the time everyone was cleared and they all had strict instructions to rest, especially as T’Pol and Phlox hadn’t worked out exactly what had affected them in the forest.
Malcolm ate, showered and changed. Before going to bed he read Trip’s last letter again, soaking up the words and hearing Trip’s voice in his head.
He closed his eyes and tried to imagine Trip’s weight on the bed beside him, his warmth and gentleness. Despite Malcolm’s best efforts though, his dreams were plagued by Archer’s sobs echoing as Trip and little Maddie lay still and cold on the ground.
…Columbia…
The idea was simple: convince the aliens that maintaining control of the ship was more trouble than it was worth. The method took some more thought.
Palmer lamented that they didn’t have a non-verbal signal system to send a message to other sections and Gardener reappeared in Trip’s head. He’d switched on the visual sensors in the Armory and fiddled with the frequency in his communicator. The Armory team sat in the corner furthest away from the phase pistol cabinet and most of them looked awake. There wasn’t enough detail for Trip to see exactly which crew member was Gardener but after a minute of messing with his communicator, one of them raised a hand to their ear. Bingo.
“Gardener. Acknowledge.” He whispered into his comm.
On screen, Gardener nodded once.
“We have control of Engineering. Can you handle the guards there?”
She nodded again.
“I can jam the signal between the Armory and the Bridge.”
Gardener held up two fingers.
“I’ll begin jamming in two minutes.” Trip interpreted.
Gardener nodded again, then nudged the person next to her and began signing out of sight of the camera, and guards.
Trip glanced up at the gathered engineers as he waited for Gardener to be ready to spring into action. His mind returned to the problem.
Brute force was out of the question, even if the Armory team managed to take control, the aliens could send reinforcements or their ship could fire on strategic points.
The main advantage the crew of Columbia had was their superior knowledge of the ship’s systems and the lengths to which they’d go to retake it.
He explained his rough plan to the others.
“Are you sure that’ll work?” Móra asked, fingers fidgeting on his cuffs.
“It’s the only viable plan we have and-”
The sub leader’s radio beeped.
“It’ll work.” Trip said. “Go to your places.”
The others nodded. They’d already secured Engineering from physical and digital attacks, at least from anyone without an override code, so now it was time to go on the offensive.
Trip focused back on the feed of the Armory, the whole team seemed more alert now. Trip’s internal clock had reached two minutes and he saw Gardener nod.
“Jamming now.” He said into his comm.
Potto’s radio beeped again. Trip opened the channel.
“Potto!” A bark came out. “How many times have you been told to answer immediately?” They steamrolled on without waiting for a response, so Trip nodded at Palmer to begin hacking into the Bridge systems.
“I’m sorry,” Trip drawled when the leader paused to draw breath, “Potto is a little tied up right now. Can I help you with anything?”
There was a splutter on the other side. “Who is this?”
“You’re speaking to the new Captain of the Columbia. You hear that Robinson? We’re taking control!” Trip watched the Bridge visual feed, the human crew looked between each other as the aliens shifted a little, the leader waved his hands as he responded.
“No! We have control. We are the Fusilian Alliance, the strongest force in the system.”
Trip forced a laugh. “Oh very impressive, Heron of the Fusilian Allian. Do you think you have control? I must thank you for gathering all our corrupt leaders in one place. It’s taken us months to learn all the executive codes and we were just devising a plan to kill everyone at once. This is just perfect.”
“Tucker! What the Hell are you doing?” Robinson shouted.
The lights on the Bridge flickered, causing everyone to look up and around. Palmer nodded at Trip.
“What was that?” Heron asked.
“You may notice that you no longer have helm control.”
Cursing.
Trip checked the Armory feed and saw the humans were armed and prodding the aliens into the same corner they’d been sitting in. “And perhaps you’re having trouble reaching your team in the Armory?”
More cursing.
“As thanks for your help, we’ll give you ten minutes to leave our ship before we start shutting off life support on the Bridge.”
“Screw you, Tucker!” Robinson shouted, anger sounding less genuine than before. “I’ll skin you for this!”
Trip’s comm beeped. “Armory secured.” Gardener reported.
“Acknowledged. Can you take care of the roaming teams?” Trip replied.
“Affirmative.” Gardener confirmed.
On the Bridge, the alien leader snapped. “You’re not going to do anything, either of you! You are at my mercy! Fall in line or I’ll start shooting. And this time my gun won’t be on stun.”
Trip looked at him through the video feed and tried to judge how serious he was. It would only take a heartbeat for him to execute any of his hostages; if he didn’t believe Trip really was uncaring, it would be so easy.
Móra came to Trip’s below and murmured. “Everyone’s awake again.”
Trip glanced back and saw the engineering team in various states of getting up.
“Phase Two.” He ordered.
Móra nodded.
“Forgetting that we have some of your people at our mercy? ” He said into the subleader’s radio. “You are just like our inept leaders. If you can’t keep your people safe, why should they follow you?”
That gave Heron pause and Trip saw a few of the aliens on the Bridge glancing at each other.
“Last chance. We’ll leave the men we knocked out by the docking port.”
“No, you will surrender!” The leader raised his gun. “We will slaughter everyone in this room and come for you next!”
Trip gave an exaggerated sigh into the radio even as his heart pounded. “You’re not too bright, are you? I already told you we were planning on killing everyone you have there.”
“Roamers contained.” Gardener reported.
Trip glanced at the monitors of the corridors and saw armory officers standing outside someone’s quarters; presumably the aliens were inside.
“Execute evacuation.” He told Gardener.
To Heron he said. “Fine.” He shut off the main power to the Bridge, listening to the gasps over the radio.
Auxiliary power kicked in, bathing the Bridge in blue light and Trip locked the elevator. The aliens could use the Jefferies tube - if they worked out where it was.
Trip watched the aliens panic as the one at the helm confirmed they couldn’t get control back. One went for the elevator and shouted that it wasn’t responding.
“Tucker! You filthy bastard!” Robinson shouted.
The leader looked around and then lunged, pulling Hernandez up and putting his gun to her head. Trip hesitated.
“You don’t think I’ll do it?” The leader snarled.
“If that’s how you want to spend your last few minutes, be my guest.” Trip said, heart hammering.
Then he manually switched on the low o2 alarm. He watched as the aliens began trying to ram the elevator door or stab ineffectually at the consoles. The leader glared at the camera and his grip tightened around Erika’s neck.
“Sir!” One of his men shouted.
Growling, the leader threw Erika onto the ground. “Let us out!” He moved to the elevator.
Trip didn’t move.
The leader turned back. “We will leave. Let. Us. Out.”
Trip activated the elevator, the alarm still blaring. The aliens piled in and Trip closed the doors behind them. He sent the elevator down to the Deck where the Armory team were finishing up depositing the stunned aliens. The roaming team had been released from crew quarters and although the Armory officers stayed out of their way to the docking port, they were following at a distance.
He turned off the alarm on the Bridge and spoke through the comm.
“Captain, the aliens are being herded to the docking port. The Armory team is in position to ensure they leave.”
Robinson stood stiffly. “Acknowledged.”
On the docking port visual feed, Trip watched the aliens from the elevator scoop up their unconscious crew mates and the roaming teams joined them.
“Internal sensors.” Trip asked Palmer.
“Clear. They’ve all gone through the docking port.” She reported.
“Commander,” Gardener said from Trip’s communicator, “all hostiles have departed.”
“Acknowledged.” Trip replied. “Status of your team?”
“No serious injuries; just some scrapes.”
“Good. Standby for the Captain's orders.”
“Captain,” Trip said. “The aliens have left, all systems are fully operational and there have been no serious injuries to the Engineering or Armory teams. Should we return control to the Bridge?”
“Good and yes. Change the security codes just in case.”
“Aye, sir.”
Trip did so, keeping an eye on external sensors. The alien ship had detached from Columbia and was moving away. Once far enough away, it jumped to Warp.
Trip should have felt relieved. He should have been feeling something.
He received more orders and stayed in Engineering to oversee the medical team looking over the injured engineers and the checking of systems.
Some time later Móra came up to him. “Kelby’s been released from Sick Bay and Dr. Natukunda has given him five minutes to be updated before he has to go to bed.”
Trip blinked, then his brain caught up. “You can brief him?”
Móra nodded.
“Alright. I’m going to go check on the Armory.” Trip said.
“Thank you, sir. For everything.”
Trip left. The corridor swam slightly but he managed to keep his feet and got to the Armory. Inside, people were bustling around but in their usual controlled way.
He spotted Gardener on the upper deck and something in his chest loosened. Then his fists clenched as he saw the large bruise on her cheek. She saw him and signed: ‘Commander, you okay?’ before turning to climb down. As she approached, he nodded and pointed to her bruise.
‘Fine’ she signed.
Remembering her question to him about pain months ago, he repeated it to her.
She shrugged, gaze averting for a second. So: yes, she was in pain but not enough to stop her working.
‘Training, worth it’, she signed.
He blinked. She frowned, signing something else. Trip blinked again, trying to understand her meaning: did he break up? Break up with who?
Something moved in Trip’s peripheral vision. Hayes. If Gardner’s bruise looked angry, Hayes’ appeared furious.
“Commander,” Hayes greeted, voice slightly raspy.
Trip jerked his chin up in greeting.
“Gardener told me you coordinated the ‘mutiny’.”
Trip nodded again, no words in his head.
“Before the debriefing, do you think you could look at this panel, Commander?” Gardener asked. “I think one of the aliens messed with it.”
Trip hummed and followed her to a far corner of the Armory close to the torpedo housing. Once there, Gardener repeated the sign for ‘break up’, saying lowly: “dissociate”.
Oh, that made more sense. Trip frowned. Was he still dissociating?
“Maybe.” He answered.
It could always be shock: the lack of emotions. He had definitely been dissociating when he’d stunned the aliens but that had been hours ago. Usually after an emergency situation in which he’d acted instinctively, he came back to himself after the danger had passed.
Gardener was eyeing him with a neutral expression.
“Shock, probably.” He continued thinking out loud.
Her expression didn’t change though she signed, ‘help (me to you)’.
Trip’s lip twitched upwards and he signed thanks.
He went through the motions of checking the panel, “finding” nothing wrong and then he went with Hayes and Gardener to the Bridge.
Nothing seemed different up there, though Trip half-expected to come face to face with the alien leader. Hm, he wasn’t dissociating anymore, considering that he could feel the tension in his shoulders.
Robinson and Hernandez were already in the Situation Room, also bruised. Had the aliens just been letting loose on everyone except the engineering team? Hernandez gave Trip a nod and he let out a long breath. The image of the leader holding her at gunpoint was still very clear in Trip’s inner eye.
He felt Robinson’s gaze on him and swallowing, glanced up at the Captain’s face. For once, Robinson was unreadable. It had been obvious Robinson had been play-acting when threatening Trip earlier, but Trip asked himself how much had been fake anger. Especially since that had been before Erika had been held at gunpoint.
His stomach churned.
Móra came up and there was a round of everyone assuring everyone else they were fine. Once that was done, Erika asked Trip to explain what happened in Engineering.
He began, going from the power outage, being rounded up into a corner, the sub leader talking to the leader through his radio, to taking control.
“Huh,” AG said, “are you going to go into more detail than ‘then we took control’?”
The words and tone were casual but AG’s eyes were knowing.
Swallowing bile, Trip said. “They were distracted. I disarmed them.”
“It was kind of amazing.” Móra said.
Everyone’s attention shifted to her, except Gardener, who Trip could see looking at him from the corner of his eye. His ears started ringing. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking. Abruptly, he didn’t want to be there.
He wanted to be anywhere but under a five-person microscope.
Movement caught his eye and he realized Gardener was signing: ‘Commander H-A-Y-E-S, question, you.’
Trip looked at Hayes and noticed an awkward silence hanging over the group.
“I asked what the aliens were distracted by.” Hayes said.
Frozen, Trip could only stare at him and watch his brow wrinkle slightly.
Móra cleared her throat. “One of them was, uh, making sexual advances on a crewperson.”
Hayes’ expression hardened.
“Who?” AG asked.
“None of your damn business!” Trip snapped.
He glared at AG who flinched. Erika opened her mouth.
“Sir.” Trip tagged on, struggling not to flush.
AG held up a hand. “It’s between them and Dr Amari.” He looked regretful.
“We can keep it vague in the report.” Erika said. Though she glanced between Trip and AG once more, she prompted. “Please continue Commander, what happened after you and Móra gained control of Engineering.”
Forcing his shoulders down, Trip went on explaining his thought process as he realized the aliens’ goals, weaknesses and the advantages the Columbia crew had.
No one questioned his conclusions, Hayes was even nodding thoughtfully.
“Given their power structure it didn’t seem likely they’d trade hostages,” Trip concluded, “so we’d have to threaten the leader directly but in a way that gave them an alternative to fighting.”
“Hence the ultimatum.” Hayes said.
“Should I be worried you arrived at ‘pretend mutiny’ so quickly?” AG joked.
Trip huffed. “No, sir. The paperwork from this incident alone is deterrent enough.”
AG groaned. “Don’t remind me.”
Chuckles rippled through the group. From there Gardener described how she and the others had taken control of the Armory - they’d had to create their own distraction but the story was more or less the same.
Erika detailed a summary of the events on the Bridge - mostly the leader hitting people to try to get executive codes from them. The aliens clearly hadn’t been planning to learn the ship systems themselves. The general consensus was they had probably planned to keep some Columbia crewmembers to fly the ship - maybe indefinitely - and dispose of the others.
Some people shifted uncomfortably at that conclusion but no one made any comments.
“Alright. Good work everyone. Go and see Natukunda if you haven’t already and take a half day tomorrow if you need it.” AG said to the group. “Reports done by the day after tomorrow if you please.”
The group broke up.
“Trip.” AG said, stopping Trip from filing out with the rest.
Gardener glanced back but didn’t linger. AG waited till everyone else was out of earshot, lowering his voice.
“Do you need anything?”
Trip raised his eyebrows.
AG tilted his head. “I’ve been told ‘are you okay’ is a useless question.”
Well, that was true. Trip thought. Did he need anything? Well, nothing AG could give him.
“Just some sleep.”
AG eyed him another heart beat before nodding. “Alright, but I want you to take it easy for a few days, okay? I can tell R&D to back off if they try to hound you for updates.”
“Thank you.”
“And if Amari is busier than usual I - well, I can try to be a sympathetic ear.”
“Thank you, Captain.” Trip repeated.
Beneath the bone-tiredness lay gratitude.
AG smiled a little. “Good. Dismissed.”
Trip left. He didn’t run into anyone he knew on the way to his quarters. Once safe inside, he let out a sob and all the tension and stress burst out of him. Collapsing onto his bunk, he curled into himself and cried for a long time.
When his mind had calmed, one thought remained.
Your trauma could have gotten everyone killed.
…Enterprise…
Jon rubbed his eyes as he stood in front of the drinks dispenser in the Mess. He hadn’t bothered to look at the time before slipping out of bed and stumbling to the Mess. Poor Porthos might get some peace and quiet without his owner tossing and turning.
His chamomile tea finally ready, Jon took it over to a table close to the window. He sat facing the stars and let himself sink into the guilt and dread that he’d been fighting for months. He knew that everyone had been worried about how he was coping and he’d been making more of an effort to appear as his old self - back when he’d believed himself to be a good person. Letting out a shaky breath, Jon felt his eyes prickle with tears. Finally, he let them fall.
Time and time again, he’d hurt Trip: not intervening when AG was taking advantage, worse enjoying it, considering propositioning Trip himself, resenting Trip’s relationship with Jamie and most heinous of all, completely abandoning his role as friend as soon as Enterprise had launched.
Sure, he’d made some token efforts, but not only had he put Trip in a situation where he was assaulted, he’d left Trip to recover alone; blissfully unaware anything was wrong.
Trip had been struggling to cope with his trauma for close to two years and Jon had been ignoring his friend so thoroughly he hadn’t even noticed.
So yes, once he’d felt like he was a good person, not perfect but always willing to stand up for the little guy, right wrongs, learn to be better. How wrong he’d been.
Face now wet, he sniffed and wiped his cheeks with the end of his sleeve. Hearing all of his self-recriminations coming from AG and Trip’s mouths - even though they hadn’t been real per se - had brought all of Jon’s guilt to the surface.
The Mess door swished open.
Straightening, Jon glanced over to see Malcolm entering. Despite everything, the sight of Lt. Cmdr. Reed in sleep clothes sent pleasant surprise skittering over the surface of the black mass in Jon’s chest.
“Sir! Sorry, I…”
Jon lifted a hand. “Please Malcolm, it’s the middle of the night. Call me Jon.”
Malcolm hesitated, then began collecting a mug. “Alright, Jon, just this once.”
Jon did laugh then, a small puff of air, but a laugh nonetheless. As Malcolm got a tea, Jon took a sip of his.
“S- I mean, Jon, do you mind if I sit with you a moment?”
Jon nudged the chair beside him with a foot. “Trouble sleeping?”
“Yes.” Malcolm sighed and sat down in the seat. “I keep seeing what I saw in that damn forest.”
“Oh?”
Malcolm’s fingers fidgeted on his mug. “My sister. Drowning.”
“A fear of yours?”
“A memory.”
Jon shifted, interested.
Malcolm took a sip and then began softly.
“When we were children our father took us sailing. I was terrified of open water from the start. Swimming pools I could more or less handle but water where I couldn’t see the bottom? For some reason it’s always terrified me. So, being a Navy man, my father was trying to cure me of it. He began teaching me and Maddie to sail as soon as we could see over the edge of boat.”
Malcolm hesitated before barreling on. “Once it was especially windy, the water was choppy. I was cowering so much I almost didn’t notice Maddie get clocked by the boom and fall overboard. I froze.”
“Understandable.” Jon felt compelled to say.
“My father rescued her and never let me forget that I didn’t.” Malcolm’s eyes fell to the table. “That my fear had almost killed her.”
“That seems…overly harsh.” Though it also made a lot of sense, based on what Jon knew of Malcolm and his family.
Meeting Jon’s eyes, Malcolm went on. “Intellectually I know it was a natural fear response. I was eight years old in a situation where I was already scared.”
“But emotions aren’t logical.” Jon finished Malcolm’s thought.
Malcolm nodded. “Indeed.”
Jon let that side for a moment, the information slotting into the part of his brain where Lt. Cmdr. Reed lay.
“For what it’s worth,” he said in the quiet of the Mess, “I don’t think you should feel guilty.”
Smiling gently, Malcolm replied. “Thank you, Jon.”
“Don’t strain yourself, Malcolm.”
Malcolm laughed but didn’t say anything else. For a few minutes they sipped their tea. Jon had been aware of Malcolm checking up on him and making more quips than he used to. Maybe Jon should just be grateful and not look a gift horse in the mouth.
Maybe he should take the hand that was being offered.
“I saw Trip.” He said. “On the planet.”
Malcolm looked at him, expression open.
“With Robinson.” Jon continued. “Robinson had him…” His throat closed up.
“You’re worried Robinson would do something.” Malcolm guessed.
“Intellectually I know he won’t. Even if he wanted to, well, I asked Erika to keep an eye on both of them.”
“And Trip is a different person now.”
“That’s tru-” Jon started. “You know?”
Lips twisting slightly, Malcolm explained. “On Risa, Trip and I got fairly drunk. We ended up telling each other some dark secrets.”
Jon sat back, probing his feelings. On the one hand, he was glad Trip had opened up to someone. On the other hand, he was still jealous that the person hadn’t been him. Trip had only told him by accident…when they’d both been drunk. Huh.
“What did he say?”
“That a senior officer tried to blackmail him into sex. Emphasis on ‘tried’.” Malcolm’s tone turned hard. “Trip told me he agreed for different reasons.”
“Yeah, he told me that too. Not sure I believe him though.”
Tapping a finger on his tea cup, Malcolm asked. “What do you know of his sexual partners before he joined Starfleet?”
Jon was taken aback by the question, but not enough to refuse to answer. “Not much. I think he’d only dated Lisa before…”
Jack’s warning came back to him. “Although, his uncle once told me to be careful. He said that Trip gets hurt easily.”
At the time, Jon had suspected there had been a story behind the comment but hadn’t pried. The thought that Trip had been taken advantage of years before AG had done it made the tea in his stomach turn to concrete. His eyes fell shut. Oh God.
“How could you have known?” Malcolm asked. “Trip’s a better actor than people give him credit for.”
“I should have tried harder.” Jon argued, eyes opening. “I should have told Trip I knew what AG had done and supported him reporting it.”
Holding Jon’s gaze, Malcolm said calmly. “He didn’t want to report it.”
“Because he thought he couldn’t.” Jon retorted, nerves tingling with sudden energy. “He didn’t know that I knew, well, I didn’t know how it had started but I…I knew they’d,” he swallowed, “had sex.”
Jon pushed away from the table and began pacing. “I suspected something had been wrong but…Trip seemed fine the next day. Why didn’t I push?”
“He didn’t want you to.” Malcolm said.
“Because he’s got terrible self-esteem, not because it was okay! God. Every time he’s needed me I’ve let him down.”
Malcolm turned in his seat, watching Jon pace but not interrupting.
“The thing with AG was just the worst one until…”
“He doesn’t blame you.”
“He should. Protecting the crew is my responsibility and I just… sent him off.”
“It’s also mine.” Malcolm said.
Jon stopped, really looking at him. It was subtle, but the guilt was there on his face.
“It shouldn’t have happened,” Malcolm continued, “but it did. All we can do is help him where we can.”
Jon sagged, all his anger deflating. He sat back down. “I messed that up too.”
“Yes.” Malcolm agreed. “But not beyond repair.”
Jon shook his head. “He deserves better.”
“Do you really believe that severing all contact is the answer? The best for him? With all due respect, he’s not a child. What he definitely doesn’t deserve is to be treated like his feelings don’t matter.”
Jon’s mouth opened but Malcolm steamrolled over him.
“Part of the problem was that you didn’t talk to each other. That’s on you and him. You owe it to your friendship to try. Don’t you?”
Jon stared at Malcolm, unable to look away from the furrow in the man’s brow.
Finally, he unfroze. “Yes. You’re right. I’ve been trying to write him a letter but nothing sounded right. I just need to take the plunge.”
Malcolm eyed him a moment before nodding.
Affection bubbling up through his sea of guilt, Jon said. “Thank you, Malcolm.”
“That’s alright, Jon.”
…
Hoshi gave Crewman Thames a weak smile as he asked how she was. Although a little annoyed everyone she saw the morning after leaving the creepy forest asking her the same question, she was also glad she’d survived to hear it. Not that it seemed likely she would have died.
No one had a definite theory on what the force or entity it was that had given them all personalized horrifying visions but the prevailing theory was it had been some kind of defense mechanism.
“Divide and conquer.” Malcolm had said, before frowning. “Without the conquering.”
Hoshi was happy to never think about it again. She got her coffee and sat with Travis. Realizing her lack of interest in reliving the story beyond the basic outline of events, he updated her on his family. Hoshi smiled and laughed in all the right places; which got easier as her coffee kicked in. When they were almost done, Commander Connors walked in.
The sight of him in the Mess proper was getting more common but Hoshi would have assumed he’d have avoided it today to avoid scrutiny. Indeed, he did get some looks and questions from the higher-ranking officers - as Connors generally deigned to give the time of day to Lieutenants and above.
He seemed pretty normal, though when he had his tray, he approached Hoshi and Travis’ table.
Hoshi jolted upright. “Sir.”
He nodded at her.
“Good morning, sir.” Travis added, glancing at Hoshi.
Connors nodded at him too. “Is this seat taken?”
“Uh, no. Please.” Hoshi managed.
Connors sat down. There was a beat of silence as Connors began cutting up his eggs.
“Sleep alright, Ensign?” He asked her.
It seemed like a genuine question. Still, Hoshi felt uneasy. “Not bad. Considering.”
“Hoshi told me you saved her from some vines.” Travis said.
Hoshi shot him a glare. “Imaginary vines.” She reminded him, cursing that she’d told him.
Connors looked between them before smiling a little. “Well, she saved me from a very real alien so I guess we’re even.”
Even more unbalanced by the casual comment, as if Connors considered them equals, Hoshi forced a short laugh. “If you say so, sir.”
“Well, I gotta get to the Bridge.” Travis stood. “Hoshi. Sir.” He nodded to them both.
Connors said goodbye and Hoshi just managed to reign in her glare at Travis, especially annoyed as she caught a glimpse of his grin as he turned away. Oh, he was gonna get it later.
Okay, she could handle a few minutes of a suddenly chummy Connors before making her own excuses.
“I really did want to thank you.” Connors said. “I don’t know what I would have done without you there.”
“I’m sure you would have worked it out.” Hoshi said magnanimously. “I don’t believe Ma’ri would have really hurt you.”
“Maybe not, but someone else might have.” Connors pointed out. “Can I ask what you saw in the forest? Apart from the vines.”
Hoshi hesitated. She didn’t really want to talk about it with Connors of all people, on the other hand, it wasn’t likely he’d think less of her as he’d actually been there.
“I saw an Axanar, hanging upside down and being pumped for their fluids.”
Connors nodded. “I read that report. It was early on, wasn’t it?”
“My first away mission.” Hoshi said, not bothering to mask the dryness of the comment.
Connors looked down at his breakfast briefly before his eyes came back up to meet hers. “Hell of a first mission.”
A very Trip-like expression, she thought randomly. Outwardly she just shrugged. “We’ve all been through things.”
“Do you know what I saw in that forest?”
Genuinely interested, Hoshi leaned in.
“Nothing.” Connors said, frowning. “I haven’t been through anything like the reports I’ve read.”
“Yet.” Hoshi said without thinking.
As Connors’ frown deepened, Hoshi choked. “Uh, I mean-”
“No, you’re right.” He looked at her, smiling slightly. “I’m glad you’re the comms officer, Ensign.”
“Uh, thanks.” Hoshi opened her mouth to return the compliment then stalled as her brain scrambled for something believable.
Connors huffed and held up a hand. “It’s okay, Ensign. You don’t have to-”
“Commander-”
“I know I’m not him.”
Hoshi nodded vaguely and took another sip of coffee. What an eventful day and breakfast wasn’t even over.
“Do you know the real reason he left?” The Commander asked.
Hoshi actually didn’t. Part of her was guiltily glad as all signs pointed to a ludicrously depressing or unfair cause.
Everyone who had talked to Trip for more than a few minutes that last month could tell he had been going through something. Maybe his intention to focus on R&D had some basis in truth but it clearly hadn’t been the whole story. Hoshi had more reason than most to suspect that as she had caught Trip and Malcolm in a passionate embrace the night before Enterprise relaunched.
“I don’t.” She answered.
Connors sighed a little but didn’t press. “What do you think he would have seen in that place?”
“Any number of things.” Hoshi replied.
Then glanced at the time. “Excuse me, sir. I-”
“Of course. Go on and thank you.”
Still unused to Connors being cordial, Hoshi merely nodded and bused her tray.
On the way to the Bridge, her mind turned over the conversation. Had Connors only pretended to consider her worthy of his attention for intel? His thanks and compliment had seemed genuine but from his reputation, he was a smooth-talker, a kiss-ass. On the other hand, what use could he have for knowing why Trip had left?
Perhaps Connors only now fully grasped the danger his position as Chief Engineer put him in and was grappling with it.
Hoshi held in a scoff: light years away from Earth was a little late to realize space travel, especially so far from their system, was dangerous. Then again, she remembered her own bout of cold feet, when she’d told Trip she was planning on asking Archer to take her home. It felt like a lifetime ago.
Trip had encouraged her, told her to give it time and he’d been right. She’d found her space legs that same day.
Melancholy washed over her; Trip’s absence was like a hole in her heart, like someone had dimmed the lights. She knew most people, especially in the Bridge Crew, felt the same.
Still, life went on. She stepped out of the elevator onto the Bridge and greeted everyone.
Relieving a tired-looking Baird, Hoshi took her seat and straightened her spine. It was a new day and she could handle whatever happened.