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Faith- Part 1


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"FAITH OF THE HEART"
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY": "When members of the crew go suddenly missing, Captain Archer finds the only witness is unable to tell them anything. Lt Reed takes it upon himself to turn detective."
Disclaimer: The characters and 'Enterprise' belong to Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"Faith of the Heart" is the third story in a series. You may want to read these two first:

1. Brave New World Rated: NC-17
2. Friends and Lovers Rated: NC-17

Part 1

* * * * *

He had been sleeping. Dreaming actually. He was back home, the sun was shining and his folks were teasing him. Like they always did. It was a beautiful day and for once his sisters and brothers were all home at the same time. His mother was wall to wall smiles and that made him feel so good. They were waiting for his father to come home. Yes. It was that time again. A Tucker family outing and he could hardly wait. Then just as he was staring up at the clouds and making animal shapes out of them with his brother Dan something blocked out the sun. Huh? He squinted. The sky was getting darker by the second. Damn it. If it clouded over any more there would be rain then there would be no picnic. Then he heard it. The Voice. Not just *any* voice. Her voice. She was calling him. Anxiety and panic driving a pathway through him that shattered his idyll and brought him bolt upright in his bed. T'Pol!

He did not stop to think. Did not hesitate. Commander Tucker jumped out of bed, realised he was stark naked so rushed around to grab a pair of grey sweat pants. Pulling them on as quickly as he could he slapped his hand on the door release, paused just long enough to grab a phase pistol, then ran full pelt down the corridor in the direction of the Sub-Commander's quarters. Heart thudding as adrenalin rushed through his veins he did not let up until he reached her door. He pressed the bell and when the door did not open immediately pounded on it with his fist, voice urgent. "T'Pol! Are you alright? Open up this damn door!"

There was no reply. Trip put his ear to the door. Nothing. He could hear nothing. Well. That did not mean anything had happened, did it? Then he heard a thud. Quiet. Soft. It was enough. Quickly his fingers danced over the door pad and over rode the locking code, the door swished open and he rushed inside. What he saw was the last thing he expected and all his worst nightmares rolled into one. T'Pol was lying on the floor, her mouth, hands and feet bound in a curious white tape. Her eyes were wide and staring, looking up at him with an urgent pleading. Trying to warn him only the warning came too late. Something big and mean and a hell of lot stronger than he was grabbed him round the throat and shook him. He dropped his phase pistol in surprise and struggled to breathe. Lifted high off the ground he got his first good look at the Devil and it was nothing near as benign as he had been led to believe. This creature was a walking nightmare all on its' own. The fact that three more of them came out of the shadows did nothing to calm down his heartrate.

A weird sucking sound made the distorted words sound as if they were being manufactured out of the pain of the dead and the dying. Some kind of translation was automatically being used so he could understand the enemy. "You want to know what is happening?"

Not able to speak, the Commander tried to nod. The movement was so slight he was not sure if the creature could pick up on it but evidently it did. The twisted melted contours of its' foul face fanned fetid heat across his cheek as it cawed at him. "Then you SHALL!"

The hold on his throat lessened enough to allow a leaky supply of air to trickle through to his flagging lungs. The creature's other hand spread wide and gripped the top of his head like a death cap. Now all he needed was for some sick bastard to throw the switch. His head felt as if it were in a vice. The alien's thick angular fingers were chitinous but they had leathery pads at the end of the fingers just before the long angular nails raked into claws. He could not move. Was hardly able to breathe. Then as the creature flooded his mind with images from Hell his mind screamed. Laughing, the huge alien lifted him higher then threw him right across the room, the Chief Engineer slamming back into the far wall of T'Pol's quarters with a loud thwack as his head snapped back and marked the point of contact with a bloody smear. He dropped unconscious to the floor, the crimson streak on the wall following him down to the crumpled heap he made at the bottom. A pale grey light fragmented the section of the room with the creatures and T'Pol in it. Seconds later they were gone and the hush of darkness was made deeper as if even that was holding its' breath.

* * * * *

Captain Archer was impatient. What was keeping them? He was hungry and both Commander Tucker and Sub-Commander T'Pol were due to have breakfast with him in the Captain's Mess. Both were conspicious by their absence. Irritated now he commed the Commander's quarters. No reply. Frowning he tried Sub-Commander T'Pol. No response. For a moment he sat. Thinking. Puzzled. While there had been occasions when Trip had not made it to breakfast it was unlike the punctual Vulcan to be late. Where were they? He tried Engineering. "Lt Hess?"

"No, sir."

Who was that? Where was Lt Hess? "Who is that?"

"Crewman Franklin, Captain."

"Is Commander Tucker there?"

"No, sir. His shift doesn't start for another hour."

The Captain knew that of course but it never stopped the Chief Engineer from eating into his off duty time with work if something bugged him or needed attending to. But usually he would tell the Captain. He commed Dr Phlox, the Denobulan's cheery voice echoing back at him. "Ah Captain, what can I do for you?"

"Doctor, have you seen Commander Tucker or Sub-Commander T'Pol?"

"No, Captain. Is something wrong?"

*That's what I'm trying to find out* The Captain thought to himself. "No, nothing's wrong. Sorry to have disturbed you."

He cut the com and decided to go to the Sub-Commander's quarters and find out what was going on. Perhaps she was unwell but wouldn't go to the doctor? Perhaps Trip was with her right now trying to sort out whatever the problem was? He hesitated outside her door and wondered. What if it was something else? What if there was nothing wrong? What if...? He chased the thought out of his head. They were professionals. Both knew how important this mission was. He pressed the doorbell. Heard it chime. No response. He tried not to fidget as he tried to listen through the door. Nothing. He frowned and tried again. Still no response. Tapping in the command over ride code he waited impatiently for the door to open then stepped inside and froze in his tracks. The normally neat and orderly room was a mess. Immediately he could see that the Sub-Commander was not there but the room was not empty either. In one corner heaped the slumped body of his Chief Engineer. His eyes widened as he ran forward, taking in the trail of blood smeared down the wall. The trail started several feet above his head and he was a tall man.

Captain Archer knelt next to his unconscious friend, his hand trembling as he reached for a pulse. The carotid pulse was a little weak and irregular but it was still there, thank God. Quickly he commed the doctor.

"Dr Phlox, we have a medical emergency. I want you to come to Sub-Commander T'Pol's room immediately. The Commander's hurt and unconscious."

"On my way, Captain."

It was only then that he noticed Trip was only wearing his grey sweat pants. His chest was bare and he had no shoes or socks on his feet. His hair was ruffled as if he had just woken. He tried to shake off the direction of his thoughts and carefully eased his friend into a more comfortable position, alarmed by all the blood pouring out of the back of his head.

* * * * *

Sick bay was unnaturally quiet. The voices of doctor and Captain muted, the looks anxious. The Captain hoping and praying that the doctor's news would be good. At last Dr Phlox completed his preliminary exam and stepped out of the infirmary causing the Captain and Lt Reed to follow him.

"Well?" Said the Captain anxiously. "Is Trip gonna be alright?"

"If by alright you mean will he live? Yes, he will. If you mean will he regain consciousness? I don't know. He has taken massive trauma to the head, Captain, and has a fractured skull."

"What are you saying? Trip's gonna be alright, he *has* to be."

"That is spurious logic, Captain, though I understand the sentiment." He paused and took a slow breath. His eyes compassionate, his normal good cheer completely absent. "I'm afraid he has slipped into a coma and there is no way of telling if or when he will come out of it."

Captain Archer's face paled. "A coma?"

"Yes. It is too early to say if it is temporary....or...not."

"You must be able to do something?"

"Your Chief Engineer is a very ill young man, Captain. With the amount of damage he has sustained he is lucky to be alive."

*Alive* Thought Captain Archer, his eyes fastened on the inert body of his best friend. He felt a lump rise in his throat and his eyes begin to mist. *If he becomes a vegetable is that life? Even if Trip could somehow accept it could I? And what the hell am I going to do if he never wakes up? Would the day come when I'm gonna wish he had died? Or worse still will there come a time when I have to give the order to switch the machines off? To let my best friend die?*

It was the voice of Lt Malcolm Reed that penetrated his dark thoughts. "Captain, suppose you stay with Trip for a while? Let me take a look around the Sub-Commander's room. Perhaps I can find some clue to explain what happened."

He nodded, numb. Unable to form words. A great emptiness opening up inside him as Dr Phlox got a chair and placed it next to Trip's bed. He sat like an automaton, his eyes fixed on the almost white face lying on the pillow. Lt Reed nodded back then turned and walked crisply in the direction of the Sub-Commander's quarters. He was just as worried about the Commander as the Captain but knew there was no time to be shocked into inactivity. Whoever had done this to the Commander had likely taken the Sub-Commander. That escalated the level of the threat in his eyes. A thousand unanswered questions multiplied in his mind like how the attacker had got on board Enterprise in the first place? Who or what was responsible? And what did it or they want with the Vulcan Sub-Commander? His steps grew quicker. The longer he took to figure it out the less likely it was they would ever see Sub-Commander T'Pol again.

* * * * *

At that precise moment, the Sub-Commander was thinking the same about the crew of the Enterprise. Or more precisely, the Chief Engineer. She regretted reaching out to Commander Tucker for help in a moment of blind panic. Had not realised she could touch his mind as he slept, the strength of her mental cry multiplied many times by the urgency of her plight. Why had she called for him and not the Captain? She did not know. It had been an unconscious thing. As automatic as breathing but it was an action that had placed the Commander in danger. She wished she could tell if he was alright or whether her captors had killed him. Anger and worry burned a slow fuse within her but she had time for neither now. Wherever she was she had to find a way out then somehow get back to Enterprise. She was in some kind of cell cut out of rock. That meant this was a planet but which one? The fact that she seemed to be breathing the atmosphere with no problem meant it was probably a Minshara class but told her nothing else. At least she was no longer bound. T'Pol had woken to find herself lying just feet from a huge solid metal door. High up in little carved crevasses candles were lit providing the only light in the dim chamber. She had yet to turn her head and have a good look around but as she stirred her movement seemed to have a ripple effect. She froze. Realised she was not alone. Slowly the Vulcan sat up and took her first look around. What she saw shocked her. Sharing her cell were twenty five other members of the Enterprise crew. But that was not the only thing they had in common. All of them, like her, were female.

* * * * *

Lt Malcolm Reed took a recording device with him and entered Sub-Commander T'Pol's quarters carefully. He was cognisant of the need not to disturb anything which might be of evidential value in determining just what had happened and who was responsible. Once inside the door he waited for it to hiss shut behind him and took a pair of latex gloves from a pocket. As he put them on he looked around slowly, speaking into the recorder he had switched on and shoved in his top pocket to keep his hands free. He tried to ignore the way his heart was hammering when he saw all the blood. Trip's blood. The first thing that struck him was the mess. It looked as if whoever had done this had been looking for something. But what? And why take the Sub-Commander? Was she a kidnap victim or a hostage? Then he looked closer at the mess and realised this was not in fact the sign of a desperate or frantic search. It was the result of a violent struggle. The Sub-Commander had not gone quietly.

That brought him back to the Commander. What was he doing here? And why had T'Pol not called security? He would have had a team here in minutes. It did not make sense. Unless Commander Tucker had already been here when it happened? He made a mental note to check the Sub-Commander's com to see if she had used it. Then he looked at the blood on the far wall. "Crikey!" The point of impact was a good fifteen feet off the ground. The trail of blood down to the floor was obviously where the Commander had slid down the wall after impact. Lt Reed had no idea what kind of species they could be dealing with other than it was strong and apparently very violent. He turned his head slowly and tried to work out where the Commander had been standing when the being attacked him. Stepped slowly and carefully across the room then froze. Lying half hidden by T'Pol's broken meditation table lay a phase pistol. He carefully picked it up with a gloved hand. It had tiny flecks of blood on it. T'Pol's or Trip's? Whoever had been holding the gun must have been just inside the door. That meant it was probably the Commander's. The lieutenant took a clear plastic evidence bag from his back pocket and dropped the gun into it then tried to imagine the scene. Trip somehow aware of T'Pol's predicament had come rushing into her quarters half dressed, gun in hand, and been surprised by.... someone or some 'thing'. Whatever it was had presumably thrown him clear across the room. Trip had dropped the pistol, probably in surprise, and struck the far wall. Throwing a body that far took a lot of strength.

Lt Reed frowned. If the Commander had known something was wrong why did he run into T'Pol's room? Why had he not been more cautious? Careful? Wary even? He was missing something. The Commander had taken half a dozen steps into the room. So what had propelled him? The Tactical Armoury Officer moved forward a step, eyes scanning carefully trying to imagine what Trip would have seen. Then his eye caught something. A little flash of white on the floor a few feet in front of him. He took another step, hunkered down and carefully picked up a short piece of sticky white tape. It was no more than four or five inches long and had been roughly cut, probably with some kind of knife. He turned the tape slowly in his hand, holding it by one edge at the top and as it spun he could see what looked like hair follicles attached to the sticky side. Now he knew why Trip had run into the room. As the door slid open and he took his first step inside he would have seen Sub-Commander T'Pol lying tied up with tape on the floor. The Commander's attacker must have heard him coming and hidden to one side of the door then caught him as he entered.

He carefully put the tape in another evidence bag and dictated his findings. He needed to get a team up here right away and secure the scene. Then they would systematically piece together the Sub-Commander's last moments and try to establish a profile of her abductor.

* * * * *

"It's been a long road gettin' from there to here,
It's been a long time but my time is finally near.
But I will see my dream come alive at last
I will touch the sky
And they're not gonna hold me down no more
No, they're not gonna change my mind..."

- 'Where My Heart Will Take Me' (Enterprise theme)
sung by Robert Watson


Captain Archer sat so still and silent for so long that Dr Phlox thought he had fallen asleep. The lights were muted. It was late and he was getting ready to retire for the night but still the Captain had not moved. He walked softly over to the biobed where Commander 'Trip' Tucker lay. His ashen face given an illusion of warmth from the ambient wash of light. If anything the Captain looked even paler.

"Captain?" Whispered Dr Phlox gently. His tone soft but not overly sympathetic. Too much sympathy and the man would literally fall apart. He was holding Trip's left hand in his as if the physical contact could somehow keep his friend from slipping away from him. "You should try to rest."

The Captain nodded but did not look up. "I'm alright, thank you. I just want to sit with him."

"I doubt very much the Commander even knows you are there," He said gently. Seeing the slight stiffening in the Captain's body he silently berated himself. "But I am sure even on a sub-conscious level he is aware of you."

He nodded but said nothing. Dr Phlox realised he had two patients not one. If the Commander did not make it he feared for the Captain. "Do you wish me to stay, Captain?"

"No, that won't be necessary. Thank you, doctor."

"Call me if there is any change."

"I will."

Only when he was sure the doctor had gone did he allow the tears to fall. He gripped his friend's hand a little tighter, his heart constricting with the power of strong emotions. "What happened, Trip?" He whispered. "Who did this to you and what do they want with T'Pol?"

His voice trailed off. Holding Trip's hand with his left hand, he gently brushed the hair back from the comatose man's face with his right hand. A thousand memories assailing him. All the times they had shared together. His friend's unflagging good humour and enthusiasm carrying them through so many scrapes and adventures that it was hard to look back in his life and not see his friend standing right there beside him. He was the brother he had never had and always wanted. The best friend a man could ever have and yet he was more to him than that. Much more. His eyes softened, tears drying on his cheeks. Gently he petted his hair and wondered what Trip would say if he knew what he was thinking. The real reason he had insisted on taking his friend along with him. This was 'their' dream. His father's legacy. Even if Trip had not known the difference between a transwarp coil and a piece of lead piping he would have wanted him along. Did he know why? Could he even guess that friendship was the least of it? The Captain sighed and raised the limp hand he held to his lips. A faint brush of lips caressed the cold knuckles and released a new column of silent tears.

*Don't die, Trip. Don't you dare die and leave me out here. I can't make it alone*

* * * * *

Once over the initial shock, Sub-Commander T'Pol mentally ticked off the names of those sharing her confinement. Her eyes finally came to rest on Ensign Hoshi Sato. "This species, were you able to determine who they are?"

Hoshi shook her head. "No, Sub-Commander. When they spoke it was as if they were using a form of translator. I heard them in English."

"Are any of you injured?"

She glanced around at the others but they all shook their heads. "No." Hoshi paused. Worry creeping into her voice though she managed to keep it steady. "What do you suppose they want with us?"

The Vulcan's expression hardened slightly. "It cannot have escaped your attention, Ensign, that our captors only took females."

Hoshi nodded and swallowed hard, her eyes widening at the unspoken implication. "You mean...?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol looked at the sea of faces, realising she must be careful not to alarm them too much. "I do not know what I mean, Ensign, but I do feel it would be beneficial if we each recounted how we were taken. It may provide some clue as to why we are here and who is responsible."

Lt Hess nodded. Hoshi sighed. "We might as well sit down. No telling how long we're gonna be here."

The Sub-Commander gave her a sharp look but said nothing. Once everyone was settled they began their stories. Each one virtually mirroring her own experience with one exception. None of the others had had time to call for help. With her mouth taped shut, only the tentative mental connection she had made with the Commander had been an option yet she had not even thought of trying to reach anyone else. Her reaction had been automatic. When T'Pol recounted her experience last she watched Lt Hess look at her in alarm.

"Is the Commander alright?"

"I do not know, lieutenant." She said, regret in her voice. "He was unconscious when they took me."

* * * * *

On the bridge Travis Mayweather was getting more and more concerned. Try as he might he could not seem to raise the communications officer. He glanced across at her empty station and commed the Tactical Armoury Officer, not wanting to disturb the Captain in sick bay. "Lt Reed?"

"Yes, Travis?"

"I can't seem to raise Ensign Sato. She is not answering the com."

"I'll be there shortly, let me check her quarters first."

"Yes, sir."

Lt Reed now had a team at Sub-Commader T'Pol's room. He quietly but clearly outlined what he wanted. One man designated to sketch the interior of the room and mark where the phase pistol and the piece of tape had been found. Then working painstakingly from the door and across the room they would do a fingertip search in the hopes of finding something left behind by the abductors. Anything that would help in their search for the Sub-Commander and who was responsible. He left Ensign Conrad to carry on and made his way to Hoshi's room. As the door swished open he glanced anxiously inside, about to call out her name then stopping. He stood just inside the door and swore. "Oh no! They've bloody well taken Hoshi as well!"

Travis had expected Lt Reed to come back to him via the com so he was surprised when the armoury officer joined him on the bridge. He watched him peel off the skin tight surgical gloves, his face serious as a heart attack. "Sir?"

The lieutenant's voice came out clipped, a clear sign of his worry. "Ensign Sato is gone too."

Travis looked shocked.

Lt Reed went over to Sub-Commander T'Pol's station, wanting to check out a nasty suspicion. He checked and then re-checked, slumping a little when he had finished. Travis was watching him anxiously. "Bloody hell," He exclaimed as he looked up. "They haven't just taken Sub-Commander T'Pol and Ensign Sato, Travis. They've taken every woman on the ship."

"What do you suppose they want with them, sir?"

He was not answered. Lt Reed did not want to voice his fears. "I have to speak to the Captain immediately. You have the bridge, Travis. Keep scanning for any signs of a vessel, cloaked or uncloaked."

Travis swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, sir."

* * * * *

The Captain's head was bowed. He still clutched Commander Tucker's hand in his. "Come on, Trip, don't do this to me. You have to pull though this, if not for me do it for Enterprise."

The still figure did not react. He raised his head and looked at his friend. His heart aching for him. He loved him. Not in the physical sense but heart and soul. He was family. Closer than a second breath. No one knew him or understood him as well as the Chief Engineer. Trip had seen all his moods. His darkness as well as his light. Had rode the tempest of his rage, commiserated when his romantic interludes had broken up. This gifted irreverent optimist had taught him more than a library of books and always with that gentle charm, that quiet wisdom masked so discretely in the larconic lilt of his beautiful Southern drawl and twinkling eyes. To see someone so vibrant and full of the joy of life so silent, so still, was breaking him in two. That it should happen to Trip of all people was almost more than he could bear. He could not even countenance the thought of losing him. *Not on my watch*

It took a minute for him to realise someone had come into the sick bay. Expecting Dr Phlox he did not turn his head. "Isn't there anything more you can do for him, doctor?"

Lt Reed's voice was a shock. "It's me, Captain, and I'm afraid I have some more bad news."

As he said this, Dr Phlox joined them. His ears had pricked up at the last half of the sentence. "Bad news?"

"What is it, lieutenant? What have you found out?"

His eyes flicked momentarily from the Captain's anxious face to that of the comatose Commander Tucker. "The Sub-Commander was not the only one taken, sir. As far as I can ascertain twenty five other crew members are also missing including Ensigns Sato, Cutler and Lt Hess. I thought it was our complete compliment of female officers sir but I was wrong. We have three female crew members still on Enterprise."

Captain Archer frowned, trying to understand. Dr Phlox looked at the Armoury Officer with interest. "If I may ask, lieutenant, who are the three officers still on board?"

"Crewmen Thomas, Shear and Rodriguez."

A little light seemed to click on in the doctor's eyes. Not that he divulged why to them. "Ah."

The Captain gave him a suspicious look. "Ah what?"

"Nothing Captain."

"Maybe they couldn't take all of them at the same time?" Suggested Lt Reed.

Captain Archer's eyes narrowed. The Armoury Officer's words were far from comforting. "You think whoever abducted the others is still out there?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, Captain. So far we haven't been able to pick anything up on our sensors."

"What 'have' you been able to find out?"

Lt Reed looked at Commander Tucker, his heart saddening at the sight of him lying there. So still it looked like a death bed. He mentally shook himself out of his depressing thoughts and concentrated on the Captain. "I was able to establish that somehow Sub-Commander T'Pol was able to contact Commander Tucker. How, I still do not know."

"The com..."

"Was not used, Captain."

That surprised him. "It wasn't?"

"No sir, I checked the com traffic log. Also I found evidence that whoever took the Sub-Commander had a fight on his hands first. The room was in a hell of a mess and I found a piece of sticky tape."

The Captain was sure he had misheard him. "Sticky tape?"

"Yes, sir. I believe it was used to bind the prisoners." The Captain lost what little colour he still had in his face. Lt Reed continued. "I also found Commander Tucker's phase pistol - it had not been discharged and it appears to have flecks of the Commander's blood on it."

"Oh God..."

"It would appear that when she was attacked, the Sub-Commander put up a spirited resistance. Somehow raised the alarm with the Commander who rushed out of his quarters only taking time to grab a weapon. Unfortunately he was unable to discharge it in the Sub-Commander's defence before he was overpowered and thrown bodily across the Sub-Commander's quarters resulting in his current injury. I believe the sticky tape was used to bind T'Pol's hands and possibly feet as well as her mouth."

"Hold on a minute, Malcolm. I can accept the hands and feet but T'Pol must have had her mouth free in order to call for Trip's help."

"I never said I could explain it, sir."

Dr Phlox had been listening carefully. His expression was thoughtful. "I do believe," He said slowly. "That I may be able to offer some explanation."

After the doctor's theory had stunned both the Captain and Lt Reed, the lieutenant excused himself to carry on his investigation. Dr Phlox checked on Commander Tucker and replaced his drip of nutrients then left to check on the medical histories of the three women still on board Enterprise. Captain Archer was alone again with his friend. He resumed his seat for a minute and looked down at Trip's face. He gave a great heavy sigh and looked at him for several minutes in complete silence. "I wish you would wake up, Trip. Could tell me what happened, what you saw. Help me to get those sons-of-bitches who did this to you. Who took T'Pol and the others..." Another deep sigh escaped him. He had to go. Leave his friend to the doctor's care and get some sleep. Maybe in a couple of hours there would be some explanation, some clue as to who the abductors were and where they had gone. In the meantime he had to let his best friend recover and try to hold the rest of his life in one piece until they could figure a way out of this. He could not let the enemy beat him. He owed it to his crew and to his best friend. They were counting on him. "Just get well, Trip. I promise to hold it together until then, just so long as you keep up your end of the bargain." He paused a second then dropped his voice to the softest of whispers, a hand reaching out to touch his friend's cheek gently before leaving him. "That's an order, do you hear?"


"'Cause I've got faith of the heart
I'm goin' where my heart will take me.
I've got faith to believe
I can do anything
I've got strength of the soul
And no one's gonna bend or break me
I can reach any star
I've got faith, I've got faith...
Faith of the heart."

- 'Where My Heart Will Take me' (Enterprise theme)
sung by Russell Watson


Unnoticed, Dr Phlox watched the Captain leave then looked back at the medical records he had been scanning. He thought that the names of Crewmen Thomas, Shear and Rodriguez had struck a chord. Now reviewing their last appointments with him he realised they had one thing in common that the rest of the female crew did not. All three of them were in varying stages of early pregnancy.


* * * * *


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