Fragile- Part 3

Fragile Universe
An "Enterprise" story

By Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG-13
STATUS: New. SEQUEL to "FRIENDSHIP".
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Captain Archer comes out of his coma. Trip discovers his punishment and begins to learn about the strange world he must now inhabit."
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and 'Enterprise' are the property of Paramount. No infringement of copyright is intended.

Part Three

"TWO WORLDS"

* * * * *

It was a lot darker than he had expected. Why, he could not say. His mind equated the winding downward twisting passageways with corridors leading to medieval dungeons. The only thing missing was the damp musty smell and the rats. At least. He hoped he would not come across the Volaran equivalent. His keeper was a Volaran Siminarial Guard called Sar. Siminarial was a Volaran word for a particular type of guard, one that had the care and control of a single prisoner. Trip's mind had spun when Sar had begun to explain all the complexities of life in the Magnar, or correction facility. All in all though, Sar seemed to be a fair man. Even taller, broader and heavier than the Prince Regent, Trip reckoned he must be seven foot six if he was an inch. He got a crick in his neck just making eye contact. For some reason that seemed to amuse his Siminarial Guard.

"How far down is this dungeon anyway? My feet're in danger of fallin' asleep."

Sar made an odd sound that Trip took for laughter. Or maybe he really was just clearing his nose through the back of his throat. He tried to scratch that image from his mind. Down here a good imagination could be something of a handicap. "Another twenty five metaks and we will reach the mine."

Uh oh. Mine. Forced labour. Not good. The Commander said nothing. At least it would give him something to do. A way to while away the time. After all. What was five years? A blink in the eye of eternity.
It was the noise that hit him first then the heat. After that came the smell. A kind of hot rancid odour with a sulphuric aftertaste that scalded the back of the throat whenever he breathed in. He tried not to think what it was doing to the lining of his mouth and throat. Drying out the mucous membrane and irritating his nose, eyes and throat in one efficient hit. It felt like it was burning all the way to his lungs and this was his first couple of minutes in the place. The last twisting turn flickered with orange and red light. Coming down onto a straight decline he found out why and his jaw dropped in stunned surprise. Ahead of him sprawled the mine from hell. The passage widened out into a huge domed area with what looked like lava beds flowing across the middle of it. It almost dwarfed the Grand Canyon. Various Volarans were busy working with patkas, or special hanging buckets, which they dipped in the streams to extract the hot liquid. Liquid. That was almost an oxymoron in a single word. Red hot sludge would be a more accurate description. He wondered what the hell they could possibly want with it. His next thought was to wonder what the patkas were made of that enabled them to withstand such a tremendous amount of heat. His face was burning already, the skin stinging with the heat, and he had only just entered the chamber. How the men at the heart of the pit were coping he could barely guess. Sar nudged him.

"Come, to tarry is not good."

Commander Tucker nodded and moved forward. "What happens if ya tarry?"

"You are punished."

He was not sure he wanted to know what the punishment for that little demeanour might be. These folks were not real long on patience with any perceived error or offence. He would have to be extra careful to remember that and not let his tongue or temper get the better of him. After all five years was better than ten and ten was better than life.

* * * * *

It was over a week before Captain Archer regained consciousness. Dimly he was aware he was lying flat on his back in Sick Bay. The details though were beyond him. Dr. Phlox noticed his change in biosigns and hurried over to him. A smile of joy and relief lit his face. "Captain, it is good to see you awake. How do you feel?"

He blinked. Tried to move but found his body was not obeying him. Idly he wondered why that was and why did he feel as if he had just run a marathon with the entire Olympic team on his back? Everywhere hurt, or rather ached. "What happened?" He mumbled.

The smile on the doctor's face only dimmed slightly but the Captain did not notice. He wondered where everyone was. Or had he been suffering from something contagious? Why couldn't he remember?

"You suffered an allergic reaction."

He frowned. "Allergic reaction?" He could not recall being allergic to anything.

The doctor paused for a moment. "What do you remember?"

"Not a lot. We were invited to a new planet. Can't quite remember the name of it..."

"Volara."

"Ah yes, that's it. Volara." He seemed happy to have the blanks filled in for him but the doctor had fallen silent. Not volunteering anything further. He watched the Captain carefully.

Captain Archer squinted at him. It sure was bright in Sick Bay. The doctor noticed his reaction and dimmed the lights. The Captain breathed a sigh of relief. "Where is everybody?"

"Most are sleeping, the others are at their posts. It is the middle of the sleep period, Captain."

"Oh." For some reason he had expected Trip or T'Pol to be there when he woke. He buried the faint feeling of disappointment. "What was I allergic to?"

"Pollen."

"Pollen?" The answer surprised him. He did not suffer from hay fever and so far as he knew had never had an adverse reaction to flora or fauna. Still. There was a first time for everything. He felt himself getting sleepy. The irresistible urge to close his eyes became fact. Dr Phlox watched as he drifted off to sleep. He sighed. Checked on his patient then went to his office to inform the Sub-Commander. A number of painful things needed to be imparted to the Captain the next day and he was not looking forward to any of them.

* * * * *

It was long hard work and Trip had burns in places it hurt to even think about. Sar watched him, gently urging him on whenever he paused or faltered. The sweat was rolling off him and heating so quickly it scorched him leaving a film of salt sizzling on his skin and adding to the burning sensation that was now a warm hum on desensitized flesh. He looked like a lobster and felt as if he had been scalded alive.

"I could use some water, Sar." He said quietly.

Sar was not without sympathy but he knew better than to be soft with him. A perceived kindness could kill him in these conditions. "When we rise you can drink."

"But I'm burnin' up!"

The Siminarial Guard shook his head gently. "You will adjust."

"I'll die." Trip wailed quietly.

A smile was hidden under dark skin. "You will not die, Senisa."

"What did you call me?"

Sar flashed him a rare grin. "Senisa."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"White skin."

"What?" Trip paused and looked down at himself. "Shouldn't that be red skin?"

Another odd half chuckling half gurgling sound as Sar shook his head. "You are not even lightly scorched yet, Senisa."

"Look, my name's Trip. Call me Trip, okay?"

Sar looked at him oddly for a moment then turned his right hand over, palm down, and slowly lowered it. Trip had already learnt that it meant forbidden. His heart sank but he got back to work, seeing the look in Sar's eye warning him.

"Why is it forbidden?" He asked softly.

"Because we are not allowed to get close to our prisoners. They are here to give service as punishment for their crimes not to be made ensenar."

"Ensenar?"

"Friends. Family."

A look of understanding dawned on Trip's face. "I got ya. No fraternisation. We have something similar on our ship."

Sar looked surprised. "You do?"

Trip nodded, beads of hot sweat flicking outward from his face and neck. "Yeah. No fraternisation between the ranks. No getting intimate."

For several minutes they lapsed into an almost companionable silence. Trip working steadily though it was heavy and tiring work. His muscles bulging under the weight of the loaded patka. He had learnt to his cost about the correct handling of the bucket. How to angle the rocking arm that held the patka to the huge chain that crossed the width of the mine. Hundreds more criss-crossed the huge expanse, pillars punctuating the distance and carrying the chain on its' journey across and around the vast area. At last the working day was over. Trip almost collapsed when Sar tapped him on the top of his head. His head stung with the touch, burning him unintentionally.

"End, Senisa. We go to water. To feed."

"To sleep?" He asked hopefully, the words barely more than a rasp in his parched throat.

Sar nodded. His voice barely a whisper. "Yes, Trip, to sleep."

Trip's head jerked up but Sar was not looking at him. He was already standing and eying the passage of other prisoners. Keeping the Commander apart. Eyes watchful. Wary but not tense. Many were herded away in groups. Had Sar been familiar with him just then? Trip shook his head at the fanciful thought. Nah. Must have imagined it. After all, fraternisation was not allowed. Forbidden. Like almost everything else on this weird planet. Feeling numb he obediently went where he was instructed, allowing Sar to guide him up through a narrow twisting passage that crawled steeply off the main passageway. They were not returning the way they had come. *Not going back to the surface then.* Trip thought. The journey seemed to take forever. In a state of near collapse they finally reached their destination. A stone chamber carved in the living rock. Trip imagined thousands of other similar cells dotted around the huge subterranean complex. Would he ever see daylight again? Right now all he wanted to see was a bed. What happened next would have embarrassed and surprised the hell out of him if he had not been so shattered, tender and numb.

He was gently nudged into the main part of the cell. The far side was dominated by a large flat slab of rock which presumably was his bed. Cosy. In the centre of the cell was a small round pit about a metre across. The pit seemed to be full of hot glowing ash. Great. Just what he needed. More heat. Sar did not let him sit on the bed but made him stand next to it. His deep sonorous voice sang in Trip's ears as he stood with his eyes closed, trying not to fall over his feet. Vaguely he was aware of having the rags that were the remnants of his clothing peeled off him. It hurt. Taking layers of skin with it but Sar was gentle, his voice murmuring in a strangely soothing timber against Trip's ears. He was so tired. Once his clothing had been removed Sar told him to open his eyes.

"Senisa, it is necessary to treat your burns."

"Just wanna sleep."

"No, you cannot sleep. Not yet. If you are not anointed the heat will not be absorbed and you will grow cold and die."

Grow cold and die? The cold part sounded like heaven. "Die?"

Sar rummaged around and returned with a stone pot. Talking all the while he dipped a hand in the pot and rubbed a greasy gel between his hands to warm it up. Only when the gel was hot did he start to carefully lathe it across the Human's hot skin. Trip cried out, the tender mercy hurting him. Sar bit back the urge to comfort him and put all his will into covering him from head to foot. Several times the contents of the pot was renewed. Gradually Trip felt the ointment begin to soothe him. The heat of the gel actually lowering the heat of the burns. It was weird but he was too grateful to think about it. When he was done, Sar guided him to the stone bed and urged him to sit. Trip started to lay down and was berated.

"No. Sit."

"But I'm so tired, Sar..."

Sar nodded. He knew. "You can sleep soon."

"What am I waitin' for?"

"First you must eat. Drink."

Trip forced eyes that wanted to seal themselves shut to open. A cool jelly was put in his mouth. His instinct was to spit it out but Sar placed a hand over his mouth and gave him an order. "Swallow not spit."

He tried to tell him it tasted awful but the huge man did not budge.

"If you refuse you will be punished."

He shuddered. Sure his body would not be able to take any more trauma. Weakly he nodded. Sar removed his hand and watched him. The jelly was not as bad as he feared. Faintly it reminded him of mint and at least it was cool. Blessedly cool! He felt the jelly line his scorched throat, slide down his tender esophagus and cool the painful ache burning him up inside. He sighed and looked for more Jelly. Sar smiled. The white gap dazzling Trip as the smile became an amused grin.

"What *is* that stuff?"

"Food. Salvation."

"Salvation?"

"It will line your insides so that you are not consumed by the heat."

"Why couldn't I have had some before we went down into the mine?"

Sar laughed. He liked this Human even though he tried not to. "The first burning of the mine sets the pattern. If you had the jelly before your first day it would have had an unfortunate side affect and you would be wracked with disease by now."

Trip's eyes widened. He looked at Sar warily. "What the hell did ya just give me?"

"Living enzymes, bio-organisms that live in the jelly. They will form a living layer of protection for you in the mine."

He wanted to be sick. To cough it all up but he could not. And he had to admit he did feel a whole lot better already. He gave Sar a sidelong look. "Ya enjoyed that, didn't ya?"

"I do not know what you mean, Senisa."

"Huh. Don't give me that. What happens now? I suppose we get boiled rat or toad soup?"

Sar shook his head, not understanding what he was talking about but getting the gist of it by the look on the Human's face. "I do not know what that is but we do not eat the flesh of the dead."

He shuddered. *Oh God, don't tell me ya only eat things that are still wriggling and crawlin'?*

"We eat vegetable roots and many fruits. There is also a sweet patta, or bread."

Trip felt relieved but his eyes were starting to close again. He was so damn tired. "Don't think I could eat a thing."

Sar shook him gently. Trip gave a muffled cry where his touch hurt him. "No. You cannot sleep until you have eaten, Senisa."

He sighed. Opened his mouth to protest when some patta was broken and placed in his mouth. He looked at Sar in astonishment. Chewed almost without thinking and found it very pleasant. The ingestation started a rumble in his stomach reminding him that he had not eaten anything in twelve hours. "Don't tell me you're gonna hand feed me too?"

The Siminarial Guard gave him a serious look. He was not smiling now. "If it is the only way."

A curious look flickered in Trip's eyes. "Why?"

"I am your keeper. Your care is in my hands, Senisa. If you should die I will be put to death."

Shock flashed through him like a forest fire. His jaw dropped. Slowly he swallowed. "In that case I should tell ya I'm starvin'."

A slow exotic smile broadened over Sar's ebony face. Then he chuckled. His whole body slowly shaking with a deep mirth. Despite how exhausted he was, Trip found himself chuckling. It was several minutes before the laughter ebbed away and a quiet peace settled between them. No fraternisation was allowed in the mines. Yet unless Trip was much mistaken, a firm friendship was forming between them. He seized on it with a deep inner joy. It was the only thing that gave him a semblance of hope.

* * * * *

Travis Mayweather looked down at his food but could not eat. Ensign Hoshi Sato and Lt. Malcolm Reed had been reviewing the recent past. Hoshi was upset. They all were. She looked at Malcolm. "I can't believe we left the Commander in prison on an alien planet."

Lt. Reed gave a tiny pained shrug. The Commander was his friend and leaving him behind was the hardest thing he had ever done. It still gave him nightmares. The guilt robbing him of any pleasure he had at the doctor's ability to save the Captain. He felt terrible but knew he could not have done anything different. That, however, was no consolation. It was his job to protect the whole crew not just the Captain. "How do you think I feel? But Trip wouldn't listen. The only thing that mattered was saving the Captain."

Travis put his fork down and abandoned the fallacy that he actually intended to eat anything. "But the Captain's awake now. That means he's out of danger and we can go back for the Commander."

The Lieutenant sighed. A slow exhalation filled with pain. If only it were that easy. "We can't do that, Travis."

"Why not? Like you said, Trip didn't do anything wrong."

"No, but the Captain did and the Commander offered to serve his sentence so that we could bring the Captain back to Enterprise." Seeing the unhappy expressions on his friends' faces he pressed the important point home. "If he hadn't done so the Captain would have died. I do not think that would have been an option the Commander could have lived with."

Silence enveloped them. They all knew the accuracy of his words. All of them were grateful that the Captain had not died but wished that Trip had not had to pay the price. It just did not seem fair. Travis summed it up for Hoshi. "Five years!" He cried. His face a mask of frustration and sorrow. He stared at his plate then looked up sadly. "I can't even imagine what that's got to be like."

* * * * *

A couple of hours later Lt. Reed and Sub-Commander T'Pol were summoned to Sick Bay. The Captain was awake and demanding answers. He was not yet able to sit up in bed but already they noticed his colour had returned and he looked as if he were finally out of danger. Captain Archer looked passed them then frowned. "Where's Trip? I thought he would be with you. Does he know I'm awake?"

Lt. Reed would not look at the Captain. Puzzled Captain Archer looked at the Sub-Commander. She paused, a strange reluctance robbing her of the ability to speak in her usual emotionless manner. The Captain was frowning now.

"Don't tell me he got into trouble again?"

The Lieutenant took in a sharp breath at the implied criticism. The Captain shot him a keen look. "No, Captain. Actually, he saved your life."

Shock stunned the Captain into silence. He looked from one solemn face to the other. When he spoke his voice was quiet, a fear building slowly in him that he was not going to like the answers when he heard them.

"What happened?"

"I take it you do not remember anything?"

He shook his head. "No, Malcolm. The last thing I recall is being invited down to Volara. I was with you, T'Pol and Trip."

He glanced at the Sub-Commander but still she said nothing. Was that sorrow he saw in her eyes? Then Malcolm was speaking. His voice low, halting and with the cadence of a funeral dirge. When he finished, the Captain looked at him in shock. Pain etched deep in his eyes. "They put him in prison?"

Sub-Commander T'Pol finally spoke. "Yes, Captain. It was the only solution."

Anger bubbled up quick and fiery. "That was NO solution, Sub-Commander! You should have stopped him. There is no way I would ask any of my crew to exchange their lives for my own."

"You were in no position to do anything about it, Captain, and the Commander's decision did make sense. Faced with your death or the loss of the Chief Engineer for five years, the choice was logical."

He gave her an angry look. "How can you calmly stand there and rationalise this? I thought Commander Tucker was your friend?"

"He still is, Captain. While I would have wished he had taken a different decision I cannot fault him for his loyalty to you. Only the cost he must surely bear."

That shut the Captain up. He was not really angry at T'Pol but himself. He could not believe that his own irresponsible actions had cost him his best friend and the best Chief Engineer in all of Starfleet. He was hardly aware of the tears falling down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I'm not angry with you." He paused, getting more and more distressed. "This is my fault."

"You made a mistake. An error."

He looked at T'Pol and nodded solemnly. "Yes. And now someone else has to pay the price." He looked at Lt Reed. "Is there some way we can bargain with them? Perhaps we could barter for Trip?"

The Lieutenant shook his head. They had already gone through every possibility they could think of but the Volarans had been adamant that the sentence stood and would have to be served. "They did promise that Commander Tucker would be waiting for us to retrieve him in five years time."

Captain Archer said nothing. He looked at them in utter misery. Five years! How the hell was he going to hold it all together without the presence of his best friend? Didn't they know how much Trip meant to him? He would never have taken this opportunity if he could not have had Trip beside him. He was not just a friend he was family. And now through his own stupidity he had lost him. Five years. Would he even recognise his friend when they were reunited? And what would they do to him in the meantime?

"Captain?" Said Lt. Reed softly, his voice anxious. Brow furrowed in worry.

The Captain shook his head. "I think I'd like to be alone, Lieutenant."

"Yes, sir."

The Sub-Commander hesitated to follow the Lieutenant out of Sick Bay. Captain Archer turned red rimmed eyes on her and waved his hand. "That applies to you as well, T'Pol."

She nodded. His parting words forestalled her.

"I'm sorry, T'Pol." He said quietly. "If there's any way I can get him back sooner I'll do it."

She just looked at him. He wished he could tell what she was thinking. Whether she realised just how desperately sorry he was. Her face had closed up. All her emotions locked away. Her spirit blocked off from him. He knew she and Trip were friends. Sensed it was growing into something more though he was not sure exactly what. Did she grieve for him or was she glad to be free of his irritating presence? No, he could not believe she would ever wish such a thing on his best friend. Not even had he asked for it and by all accounts he had not. No. The blame for this little fiasco rested fare and square on his own shoulders. He closed his eyes as the Sub-Commander turned and followed Lt. Reed out. Dr. Phlox checked on him but he did not open his eyes. He guessed that the doctor knew he was not asleep but it did not matter. Somehow or other he had to find a way to make this right. Space held no joy for him without the presence of his friend beside him. Like the air he breathed, he needed him every step of the way.

* * * * *

Continue to Part 4

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Two folks have made comments

Great start! Trip in trouble, T'Pol worried for him, everyone acting well within character, what more could we ask for. But are you REALLY going to keep them apart for 5 years?
Looking forward to the next part. Thank you.

I love the world you have created with the mine an Trip's keeper. Leave it to Trip to make a friend despite everything stacked against it. I'm eating this up!