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A Thousand Years

A | Author - Drogna | Genre - Action/Adventure | Genre - Angst | Genre - Romance | Main Story | Rating - PG-13 | T
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A Thousand Years

By Drogna

Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer: Enterprise doesn’t belong to me, I wish it did. The only thing I get out of this is someplace for my imagination to run riot.
Genre: Romance/Angst/Action/Adventure
Spoilers: all four seasons, but TATV especially.
Summary: Trip is recovering from his injuries after the explosion, but can he and T’Pol put aside their differences long enough to make things work between them.

AN: This is the sequel to my Finale Fix, Desert Rose, read that first if you want to know how Trip survives TATV.

****

Part 1 (Sections 1-4)

“We stand here today on the edge of a new future for the peoples of the galaxy. We have given ourselves a difficult task, to forge a lasting alliance between eighteen races that will ensure freedom and liberty throughout the known universe. A difficult task, but not an impossible one and one that we cannot, will not, fail in.

When I was asked to give this speech I knew with complete certainty that they had picked the wrong guy. I’ve been called many things over the months that it has taken to put together this charter, some of them complimentary, some of them less so. I have been described as the “Architect of the Federation Charter”, and that is something that I certainly am not. There are delegates from eighteen races signing this Charter, it is far more than the work of one man. To say that I’m responsible for this historic occasion ignores so many people who have contributed and without whom I would not be standing here today.

We have faced adversity and trials to bring us to this point. Lives of loved ones and friends have been sacrificed for what they believed. We have walked through fire together and shown that we will not crumble. We stand united knowing that we are all aiming for the same goals of peaceful exploration.

When I was appointed Captain of Enterprise ten years ago, I never dreamed that I would be signing a document which lays the ground work for co-operation between so many species. We stepped out into the galaxy, knowing so little about what faced us, but we made many friends on our travels. I am proud now to be able to officially call those friends members of the Federation that we have worked so hard to create.

To say that this will be the end to all our problems would be overly optimistic, but we will face future problems by using all the resources available to us. This charter is the beginning of a greater era of co-operation that we pass on to our children and our children’s children. We give them the gift of peace, a gift that we have known precious little of during our own life times.

This will not be a military alliance in conception but, should the need arise, we will take up arms together against aggressors. Those who are strong among us will protect the weak, and we will be proud to do so.”

Excerpt from Captain Jonathan Archer’s Address to Federation Charter Signatories, January 28th 2161

****

Trip breathed. He would have liked to be doing something else as well as breathing but even the slightest exertion resulted in pain and difficulty catching his breath. If he lay completely still then he felt fine, but if he tried to sit up or even roll over he found that his damaged body just couldn’t cope. When they had moved him out of the Intensive Care Unit he’d felt that he was on the road to recovery. He had even celebrated with his friends, as much as he was able to given that he was attached to every medical monitoring machine known to man. Everyone had told him that he still had a lot of healing to do and that he’d need to be patient, but he just wasn’t a patient man. Hospitals were dull places, especially if you had limited mobility.

Beside his bed sat a pile of pads that T’Pol had brought for him a few days ago. Some of them contained Engineering projects that he’d been working on before the explosion. He’d been helping out the designers of the new NC class of ships with their reactor designs. Other pads contained novels and news. T’Pol had wanted to bring him a variety of reading material. None of them were appealing at the moment, however.

Everyone had gone back to work after the Federation Charter signing ceremony. Trip couldn’t help but feel left out of all the festivities and a little jealous of his former crew mates, who all seemed to be going on to bigger and better things. By all accounts, Travis Mayweather had two Captains vying for him to take up the position of helmsman on their ship. It came with an automatic promotion if he accepted either. Malcolm Reed was being offered a high powered Security job that gave him power to make policy for the whole of Starfleet. Trip didn’t think he’d accept it though, he’d want to be back on board a ship as soon as possible. Hoshi had decided to go back to her first love, teaching and she was going to be Head of Xenolinguistics at her Brazilian University.

Scuttlebutt was that Captain Archer had been offered his Admiralty but everyone knew, or thought that they knew, he’d want to command a ship. Except the more Trip thought about it, he wasn’t sure that Archer did want another ship to command. Enterprise had been special to them both. To Trip because Enterprise was the ship he’d looked after for the past ten years and no one knew her like the Chief Engineer; to Archer because it was his first deep space command. It had been home and there was nothing that could replace that. Trip had seen the tiredness in Archer’s eyes and his toast to “the next generation” hadn’t been lost on Trip. Space exploration was a young man’s game and Archer was in his fifties now.

T’Pol’s plans were still a mystery to him, in fact he’d barely seen her this last week. That didn’t surprise him, he always thought that she’d been visiting him out of a sense of duty. He was sure that he’d find out soon enough where she was going and that she would be offered something worthy of her amazing talents. Beautiful, intelligent Vulcans weren’t exactly a dime a dozen around Starfleet. In fact, even seven years after T’Pol had become the first alien to serve in Starfleet, there still weren’t many non-human Starfleet officers. Now that they’d signed the Federation charter that would probably all be changing. It was going to be an exciting time to be part of Starfleet. He doubted T’Pol would be hanging around on Earth much longer, despite her reassurances.

Given the circumstances Trip was well aware that he’d never be signing on to another starship, no matter how hard he pleaded with Starfleet that they give him Chief Engineer of one of the new warp seven ships. His health would never now be up to serving on active duty on a starship again. It was what he’d been offered before the incident, or accident, or explosion, or suicide attempt, or whatever they wanted to call it. The psychiatrists had already been round to discuss the latter and he doubted he’d get away completely with “it seemed like a good idea at the time”, as an explanation for his actions. So far he and Archer hadn’t really talked about why he’d done what he had. To be honest, he’d been spending a lot of his convalescence wondering if he could have done something else, so perhaps it was just as well that Archer hadn’t asked.

It was amazing how things could change. A couple of weeks ago he’d had several options for where to take his shining career in Starfleet. He was the acknowledged warp practise expert. No one else had been Chief Engineer for as long or contributed so much to warp engine design as Commander Tucker. It was depressing to think that he’d never get to leave Earth again, at least not as Chief Engineer. He’d worked pretty damn hard for that title and one thoughtless action had blasted his career into oblivion.

“T’hy’la,” said a voice in his head. “Thinking this way will not help your recovery or serve any purpose.”

Damn, he’d been broadcasting again. The first thing T’Pol had taught him after they realised that they were bonded was mental shielding, except he seemed to be having trouble with it at the moment. At first the pain medication had compromised his mental acuity so he couldn’t help but broadcast his thoughts, T’Pol just shut him out when she needed some peace. Lately he couldn’t blame it all on the pain medication, that had been stepped down considerably, mostly he thought that he was probably just distracted by his situation and a subconscious desire to have T’Pol with him.

“T’Pol, sorry,” replied Trip. “I’ll try to keep the shields up a bit better.”

T’Pol was at Starfleet HQ today. She was very carefully keeping hidden what she was up to. Her mental shields seemed to be rather stronger than his own.

“I was not chastising you for your lack of mental discipline, although we should perhaps address that at a later date,” said T’Pol.

Trip couldn’t help a burst of indignation at T’Pol’s remark but he quickly hid it as he realised firstly that T’Pol would feel it over their link and secondly, that she was right, he did lack mental discipline. “Yeah, I think I need to work on it. I guess I don’t have much else to do at the moment but think.”

“I will be returning to the hospital later this evening, we can discuss this and your earlier thoughts then,” said T’Pol. It was obvious that she was engaged in other business and didn’t need him distracting her. “You are tired and should rest.”

Trip was always tired at the moment. He woke up tired and slept fourteen hours a day. He knew that T’Pol was politely telling him to leave her alone so that she could work. He really regretted the fact that he caused her so much trouble and he was probably only going to cause her more. He certainly wouldn’t be leading a normal life any time soon and even when he was fully recovered, Phlox had indicated that he’d always have a reduced lung capacity. It didn’t seem fair to burden T’Pol with his recovery, but as she’d be getting her new posting soon he was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

Trip carefully erected his mental shields so that he wouldn’t intrude on T’Pol’s work again and decided that sleep wasn’t such a bad idea. There wasn’t much else to do after all.

****

T’Pol felt Trip drift off to sleep and noted that he slept soundly. She always allowed a small trickle of thought from her bond-mate to enter her mind. It allowed her to keep a mental eye on him and had come in useful on many occasions. Even before their bond had been so strong she had always been able to monitor Trip’s mental pulse. When his shuttle had crashed in the swamps of Vevrom she had known immediately that he was in trouble and had felt the frantic nature of his actions and an impression of his fear. It was all faint, but she went to the Captain and asked him to launch a search party. Archer, knowing the nature of her connection with Trip, had agreed without hesitation.

The feelings of frustration, rising depression and boredom that she now received from Trip worried her immensely. She had done some reading into human recovery patterns after serious injury, and so far his reactions seemed normal, but at the same time all her reading had stressed that everyone coped in their own way. At first Trip had just been happy to be alive, but as the days wore on and he realised how badly he’d been injured, and what it would mean, he had become more and more depressed.

She had little idea how to deal with this. She had already spoken to him logically and explained that he should not worry about things that he could not change. What he could do was concentrate on his recovery and attempt to get well by looking after himself. At the moment he seemed to have completely ignored her advice and was not concentrating on getting well, instead he was worrying about his career in Starfleet. T’Pol felt the grief at nights particularly, she sensed Trip lying awake and regretting the fact that he’d never be Chief Engineer of a starship again. His weakened condition made it hard for him to hide his thoughts from her and she was glad of that. If he had kept all this pain hidden away with no one to support him then she didn’t like to contemplate what might have happened. Instead she did her best to talk him through the blackest moments, sending reassurance, love and support through their bond.

What she didn’t understand was why that didn’t seem to be enough. He had friends and a future. He was still alive. She tried to understand him, but nothing seemed to help. Trip was doing his best to hide how he felt, everyone still got the “Good Old Trip Tucker” treatment. He smiled and joked and pretended that he was coping fine with it all, when he obviously wasn’t, and people who didn’t know better fell for it. Trip still wasn’t able to fool Malcolm Reed and Phlox knew too much about how Trip dealt with pain, mental and physical, to be taken in. The other person who was immune to Trip’s charms was, of course, Captain Archer, who hadn’t been fooled for a minute. Archer and Trip had been friends for nearly twenty years and there wasn’t much they could hide from each other. T’Pol doubted that she would have been as quick to spot it without the benefit of their bond. Before they had accidentally created the Vulcan marriage bond she and Trip never had been good at expressing their feelings to each other.

As if to highlight her point, she was currently hiding her purpose for going to Starfleet HQ from Trip. She only hoped that Trip would understand once she explained why she was doing what she was doing. She loved him very much and she wished that she was better at telling him so but her Vulcan side was too strong.

****

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed came to the hospital bearing gifts. It wasn’t much, just Trip’s Go set and an intention to play a couple of games with Enterprise’s undefeated champion. Chess was more Reed’s game but he certainly wasn’t averse to playing the odd game of Go with Trip, even if Trip always won hands down.

“How is the Commander today?” Reed asked the nurse on duty.

“His breathing has been a little better today, but he’s sleeping at the moment,” said the smiling nurse and Reed nodded in understanding. Despite his weakened condition, Trip had still managed to work his charm on the female half of the nursing staff. Reed made a mental note to ask how he managed it.

“Is it okay if I wait for him to wake up?”

“Sure go ahead,” said the nurse.

Reed thanked the nurse and went into Trip’s room. He quietly sat down in the uncomfortable armchair that Starfleet Medical provided for patient’s visitors. Trip lay, fast asleep, in the bed, swathed in anti-burn dressings, with various IVs running into his arm. He was also breathing a mixture of pure oxygen and aerosol medication through a nasal cannula. Reed had come to see Trip several times since his admission to hospital and although he looked infinitely better than he had in ICU, his skin was still pale, except where it was marred by burnt scar tissue, and he had definitely lost weight. Reed gave a small sigh, Trip’s recovery was going to be a long one and the longer it was, the less likely it was that his friends would be around to support him. Travis had just today announced that he’d be shipping out on the USS Dauntless within the week, having finally made his choice of ship.

Malcolm got out a padd and settled down to read. Trip slept a lot at the moment but Reed doubted that he’d have to wait too long. He wasn’t in a hurry in any case, he had been given leave until he would be beginning his next assignment. He was still in two minds as to which of the postings he had been offered he should accept. He would have liked to wait until Captain Archer made his decision and serve with him once again, but with Trip in hospital, he didn’t think that Archer would be hurrying to make up his mind. Reed briefly wondered where T’Pol would be posted next, but again she wouldn’t want to leave Trip if she could help it, which would limit her options. The rumours that were going round Starfleet were that she was being given another deep space assignment. If that were true, then perhaps he had overestimated her feelings for Trip.

Trip stirred and yawned. He rolled his head in the direction of his visitor and opened his eyes.

“Hey, Malcolm,” he said sleepily.

Reed looked up from his reading and smiled. “Commander, good to see you finally decided to join me.”

Trip patted the bed with his hand as if he was looking for something. “You seen the bed control?” he asked Reed. Trip was still not sufficiently recovered to sit up unaided and he hated talking to his visitors lying down. It was bad enough that he was still lying around in bed.

Reed found the small remote control on the floor beside the bed and handed it to Trip. Trip thumbed the control with the ease of someone who had done this action several times, and raised up the head section. He shifted his weight a little so that he was more comfortable.

“I brought your Go set,” said Reed. “I thought you might like to play a game with me.”

“Sure,” replied Trip. Reed had hoped that the sight of the Go board might cheer Trip up a little, but it didn’t seem to have helped. “So any news from the outside world?”

“Travis decided to take up Captain Romanov’s offer and he’s going to be shipping out on the Dauntless in a few days time,” replied Reed as he set up the board and placed his first counter.

“I thought he would. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist being helmsman of the newest ship in the fleet. The first ship out of the new Utopia Planitia yards as well.”

“I suppose everything is on a rather larger scale now. The NX class are all due for decommissioning over the next five years.”

“Doesn’t seem fair. These are the ships that did all the work and now they’re just being tossed on the junk heap.”

“I think NX04 Atlantis is being kept as a museum ship.”

Trip sighed and shook his head as he placed his counter. “NX01 took a lot of my life. It’s hard to see her decommissioned.”

“It took a lot of all of our lives,” replied Reed.

“So what are your plans, now? Did you ever decide between the Security Liaison job or Armoury officer on the Excalibur?”

“Excalibur doesn’t leave dock for another month, I’ve got a little time to make up my mind,” replied Reed. “I’m finding that it’s a hard choice to make.”

“At least you have a choice,” said Trip.

“It’s not as bad as it seems, Trip. If you’d been given the choice you might have decided to stay at Research and Development anyway.”

“I seriously doubt that,” replied Trip, bitterly. They played Go silently for a couple of minutes, Reed unsure what to say to his friend.

Trip eventually broke the silence. “I keep replaying the explosion in my head and trying to work out if I should have done something differently.”

“It was an impossible situation. You took the best course of action that you could.”

“How would you know? You weren’t even there,” Trip spat and paused for a moment, before he looked up at Reed, blue eyes meeting grey in an intense stare. “You know, that’s another thing that I keep wondering. When those aliens boarded the ship, where the hell were you, Malcolm? I mean, there’s an intruder alert and you’re not rushing to the rescue? That’s not exactly like you.”

“If I could have got there any faster, don’t you think I would have done?” retorted Reed angrily. “This may surprise you, but I was asleep in my cabin when the alert sounded. Contrary to popular belief, I am not a robot, I do need sleep, and no, I don’t live permanently in the Armoury.”

“You’ve got officers under your command. I guess they were all asleep too,” said Trip with biting sarcasm.

“None of us were expecting trouble. My men were at their duty stations and they reacted as quickly as they could. The area outside the Captain’s quarters isn’t exactly the top priority for most aliens attacking the ship. It took us a while to track them down and by then it was too late. Trip, you have to realise that we were on our way home, and the aliens supposedly weren’t fast enough to catch us anyway. Of course, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have believed what Shran said, but we had no reason to think that he was lying to us.”

“You’re making excuses, Lieutenant,” said Trip, breathing heavily.

“No, you are,” said Reed. “Did you stop to think, before you blew yourself to hell, what a bloody stupid idea that might be? Or if there were any other alternatives, like leading the aliens towards the nearest security detail? Or putting into practice some of the training that I’ve been trying to instil in you for the last ten years? There had to be other possibilities than just putting two incompatible cables together. The problem is that you’re always the martyr. You don’t value your own life and you don’t see why anyone else should.”

Trip had his eyes closed and was shaking his head, as if he didn’t want to hear what Reed was saying. Or perhaps he just didn’t want to relive the incident.

“Go to hell, Malcolm. You’ve got no idea,” said Trip, between laboured breaths.

“Haven’t I?” Reed blundered on regardless, Trip needed to hear this and they’d all been tiptoeing around it for too long. “I’ve got news for you, Commander. This isn’t the end of the world, you’re still alive, despite your best efforts, and you have a hell of a lot of friends who want to see that you remain that way.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to live my life like this!” shouted Trip.

“That’s just tough, because none of us are going to let you just give up,” replied Reed.

Suddenly Trip wasn’t just breathing heavily he was actually struggling, gasping for each breath.

“Trip?” asked Reed, worriedly.

Captain Archer came into the room just in time to catch the end of the argument and see Trip struggling for breath. An alarm began to sound and a nurse appeared at the door a half second later and quickly paged a doctor for assistance after briefly checking Trip over. Phlox bustled into the room, barely casting a glance in Archer and Reed’s direction. He adjusted the medication in Trip’s inhalant and then injected him with a hypospray full of clear liquid. Trip’s breathing eased a few moments later and he seemed to be calming down.

“The injection I just gave you will make you sleepy,” said Phlox to Trip.

Trip struggled to keep his eyes open and shook his head. He didn’t want to sleep now, he had things to say and he’d spent most of the day sleeping already.

“Don’t fight it. You need the rest,” said Phlox, in answer.

The medication pulled Trip under despite his best efforts. Once Phlox was sure that his patient was stable again and sleeping peacefully he turned to the Commander’s two visitors and ushered them out into the corridor.

“Perhaps one of you could tell me what triggered such a severe respiratory episode?” asked Phlox.

“It was my fault. We were talking about the explosion and he wanted to know where I was. I’m afraid I got defensive,” said Reed.

“And he became agitated?” asked Phlox.

“Yes, we got into an argument,” said Reed. It wasn’t anything that they hadn’t done before. One of the things that Reed enjoyed about their friendship was the friendly banter and debate, but this hadn’t been friendly, more angry and bitter. Given Trip’s condition, he should have known better than to excite an ill man. “I’m sorry, Doctor. I didn’t think.”

“It was bound to happen sooner of later. The Commander is still far from well and he has a lot of unresolved feelings surrounding the explosion. I suggest if the topic comes up again you pay more attention to any sign that he may be becoming agitated. Now, T’Pol will be calling me in about ten seconds to find out what upset the Commander,” said Phlox. Sure enough, Phlox’s communicator beeped at him and when he answered it, it was T’Pol. Phlox moved a little way down the corridor so that he could reassure T’Pol more privately.

“The bond that they share still amazes me sometimes,” said Archer. “That T’Pol can be halfway across the city and still know that something is wrong with Trip is just beyond my understanding.”

“Indeed,” said Reed, taking a seat heavily on one of the plastic chairs in the corridor.

“What exactly were you two arguing about?” asked Archer.

“It started out that he wanted to know why I wasn’t there when the aliens boarded Enterprise, but it was really about why he did what he did. I told him that he doesn’t value his life enough,” said Reed. “I guess that sounds hypocritical coming from the person who’s in the line of fire more than anyone else, but there really were alternatives to what he did. There must have been.”

Archer could see Reed struggling with himself, unwilling to believe that Trip had to be hurt. His job was to protect the crew of Enterprise and, every time he failed in that, he took it personally, even when there had been no chance for him to do anything. His assertion that there must have been alternatives was aimed at his own actions as much as Trip’s.

“Trip and I haven’t discussed exactly what happened, but I know one thing, he didn’t have much time to plan what he did. He may have made a bad call but given the situation we were in, I’m not sure there was much else he could have done. To be honest with you, if I’d thought of it first then maybe it would be me lying in that hospital bed. He has this perception that I’m more important than he is. It’s wrong. He’s every bit as important as I am.”

“But the Charter…” started Reed.

“Would have been signed by someone else if I hadn’t been there,” said Archer. “In fact that incident might even have served as another example of why we should be co-operating. In my speech I tried to make it clear that I wouldn’t have been here if it hadn’t been for everyone who helped me along the way, and Trip is one of those people. I’m only one man, Malcolm, and I’m nothing without the support of my friends and I never would have been given the chance to sign the treaty without Enterprise’s crew backing me up.”

Phlox approached them. “T’Pol will be coming over as soon as she is able to leave her meeting. I explained to her that it was nothing to worry about, but she wanted to make sure in person.”

“I’m sure that Trip will be pleased to see her,” said Reed. “Perhaps it would be better if I don’t come to visit again. If you could convey my apologies to the Commander…”

“Malcolm, Trip’s going through a difficult time and he needs all his friends by his side,” said Archer. “He doesn’t know what he’s saying at the moment. He’s not well and still in pain a lot of the time, but too stubborn to admit it.”

“After the argument that we just had, I doubt that he’ll want me to visit again,” said Reed.

“On the contrary, I’m certain that you have helped him to resolve some of the feelings that he has regarding the explosion,” said Phlox.

“If you feel that badly about this, then you can apologise in person. I’m not doing your dirty work for you,” said Archer. “Besides you’re the only one who can give him a decent game of Go.”

Reed nodded. “I suppose that is true. Which means that when he wakes up, I need to have a talk with him.”

“I don’t expect him to sleep long,” said Phlox. “I suggest you come back in an hour or so.”

Archer nodded in acknowledgement before he steered Reed away to the hospital canteen to get some coffee.

****

Trip awoke with a headache, feeling worse rather than better for his enforced nap. He blinked at the bright light and winced at the pain emanating from his head, and shut his eyes again.

“Trip?” asked a familiar voice. “We need to talk.”

“Now is not a good time, Captain,” said Trip, his eyes still shut.

He heard some shuffling and a moment later someone else was in the room.

“Are you in pain, Commander?” asked Phlox.

“My head,” murmured Trip.

“I’ll increase the analgesic in your medication. Just give it a minute to take effect.”

Trip did as he was told and waited. Eventually he prised his eyes open. The light didn’t hurt and the throbbing in his head had decreased to a manageable level.

“I’ll leave you two alone,” said Phlox and left the room.

“It’s been a bad day, Captain. I’m not sure I’m up to a heart to heart.”

“Trip, we’ve avoided this for too long. We need to discuss some things,” said Archer. “I caught the end of what you said to Malcolm.”

Trip did his best to fold his arms over his chest despite the IV lines. “He should have been there.”

“Don’t do this, Trip. I know you’ve been thinking about what happened and second guessing yourself isn’t going to help anyone. What happened, happened, and it wasn’t anyone’s fault that you were put in that position, except those aliens who boarded us. Malcolm, did everything that he could have and should have done. You know as well as I do that he’s a fine security officer and so are his staff. Don’t try to blame this on him.”

“What do you want me to say? That I wanted to die? Hell, I’ve got psychiatrists coming out of my ears because I tried to blow myself up. They asked me if I was trying to commit suicide, or if I had a death wish, and one of them even asked me if I thought I was indestructible. Everyone wants me to talk about this, and I don’t want to.”

“I know that you weren’t trying to kill yourself, and I know that your emotions are confused right now, but you can’t take it out on Malcolm.”

Trip looked Archer in the eye and suddenly it was as if all the fight went out of him. “I know. He kept us safe for ten years, and it was my choice to do what I did. I shouldn’t have tried to make out that it was his fault. I made a decision and I’m paying for it.”

“You saved my life, and I can never repay you for that. I wish it hadn’t cost you so much,” said Archer.

“We’re even,” said Trip. “You’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”

“But you nearly died, Trip,” said Archer. “I don’t know what I would have done if you had. If it wasn’t for T’Pol, then we wouldn’t be talking now. I never want Phlox to tell me there’s nothing else that he can do ever again. I can definitely say that was the worst moment of my life to date.”

“You’re not the one that gets the nightmares,” said Trip.

“I know that, and I want to make one thing really clear. Your life is just as important as mine. Don’t give it up lightly. I want you to promise me that you’ll never do something like that again.”

“You know I can’t make that promise. If I had to, I’d do exactly the same thing again. If it had been T’Pol, I’d have done the same thing. I can’t just stand there when my friends are in danger.”

“Just promise me that you’ll at least try and protect yourself,” said Archer.

“That I can promise you. I don’t like getting hurt, Jon.”

Archer nodded. “I don’t like you getting hurt either, and neither does T’Pol.”

“T’Pol? I haven’t seen her for more than five minutes for days,” said Trip.

“She’s been busy at Starfleet HQ but she’ll be down this evening to visit. I talked to her earlier, your respiratory episode this afternoon scared her a bit.”

Trip ran a hand through his hair. “I still forget that she can feel it too.” T’Pol’s mental shields were always up at the moment that he wasn’t getting any feedback from her. She had to be up to something and Trip wasn’t sure that he liked the implication that she didn’t want him to know what it was. He almost had to mentally shout at her to get her attention at the moment. “She’ll be gone soon and I won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

“I don’t think she’s made any decisions about her next posting yet,” said Archer.

“You’re kidding me, a smart woman like T’Pol? She won’t be staying on Earth, that’s for sure,” said Trip.

“Have you actually talked to T’Pol about any of this?”

“She’s been having meetings at Starfleet HQ for the past week. You don’t have meetings all week to get posted to R and D,” said Trip.

“Why don’t you find out what she’s been doing before you start jumping to conclusions?”

“I can’t, she’s had her shields up all the time, and she’s too far away for me to get anything…”

Archer held up a hand to stop Trip before he went into intimate details.

“There’s this thing the rest of us call talking. Maybe you and T’Pol should try it. Now, Malcolm’s waiting down the hall for you to apologise to him. Do you want me to help you sit up or can you manage?”

The fact that Malcolm was actually waiting to apologise to Trip was information that he wasn’t going to pass on.

****

Trip found himself being wheeled on a gurney back to his room in Starfleet Medical. Phlox had scheduled another full body scan so that he could check how Trip’s lungs were healing. He had explained to Trip that he needed more in-depth information than he could get from a hand scanner, so regular full body scans were part of his weekly routine at the moment. It worried Trip that he looked forward to his excursions from the ward up to the scanning room, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was bored and any change of scene was interesting. The orderlies wheeled him back into his room and carefully transferred him back to his bed, wires, monitors, tubes and all.

T’Pol stood just inside the room waiting for him.

“Hey, T’Pol,” said Trip, as brightly as he could manage. He wanted to be happy to see her, but her shields were still raised and he had no idea what she was thinking. He suspected her shields were up because she had bad news for him and didn’t want him to find out before she told him.

“I felt your earlier episode today. Are you sufficiently recovered to speak with me?” asked T’Pol.

“I’m fine. I’m sorry for scaring you like that,” replied Trip.

“I was not scared, I was concerned for your welfare,” stated T’Pol.

“T’Pol, whatever you’ve come here to say, just get it out. This waiting is killing me.”

T’Pol raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment on Trip’s inaccurate use of language. She had learned that he did not appreciate his grammar being corrected.

“I spoke with Admiral Gardner today about my next posting,” said T’Pol. “He made it clear that it was unlikely that I will be posted to Earth.”

“Even given that the Captain told us that Enterprise’s crew could pick their next assignments?”

“I am one of only fifteen non-human officers within Starfleet. I am expected to remain on active deep space duty.”

“I guessed that this would happen,” said Trip.

“I offered to resign my commission.”

“T’Pol, you shouldn’t have to resign your commission. I mean, you’re a damn fine Science Officer and you should really have your own command.”

“That was in fact the Admiral’s intention,” replied T’Pol. “He would not let me resign my commission without considering an alternative posting.”

“They offered you a command? What ship?”

“Not a ship. Deep Space One.”

“T’Pol, Deep Space One hasn’t been inhabited since the Romulan war. It was pretty much destroyed in the first attacks.”

“That is true. They expect me to supervise its reconstruction and reinstate it as the first multi-species Federation deep space out-post.”

“I can’t think of anyone better qualified to pull it off. You know, T’Pol, I’m not going to hold you to what you said about us giving it another go,” said Trip as he took the padd that T’Pol held out for him. “Long distance relationship’s are no fun, and this would be really long distance.”

“Admiral Black also gave me your orders to deliver to you. Perhaps before you make plans you should read them.”

“T’Pol, we have to be realistic here. If we couldn’t make it work when we were on the same ship we’ll never manage it with you halfway across the galaxy. It’s going to be at least a month before they even let me out of the hospital, let alone go back to duty, and I’m never going to be allowed on a ship again, so the chances of us crossing paths is pretty damn slim.”

T’Pol’s mental shields were as strong as they’d ever been and Trip couldn’t even get a glimpse of her thoughts. Trip sighed. He already knew what the padd said and he didn’t know why T’Pol was making such a big deal out of this. He was going to be posted to Research and Development, where old Engineers went to die and young ones cut their teeth before shipping out to adventure. He pressed the activate button on the padd and scrolled past the formal language at the top, down to the details of his next assignment.

“Deep Space One?” he asked incredulously. “This has got to be a mistake.”

“It is not a mistake, I assure you,” said T’Pol. “It required some negotiation but I persuaded them that no one else would be able to fill the position as competently as you could.”

“They know my condition, right? Phlox said he sent a report.”

“Your level of health once you are recovered should be sufficient to serve on a space station.”

“It’s bending the rules,” said Trip.

“Deep Space One requires an experienced Chief Engineer to complete its refit. It is logical that you should serve as the Chief Engineer since you helped to build the station originally. You have the required experience and will be available to take up the position. You also have many friends who were prepared to speak on your behalf. However, I believe the fact that Doctor Phlox will be taking up the position of Chief Medical Officer on the station persuaded them that they would not be placing you in undue danger.”

“I still don’t get it. It isn’t about my safety it’s about whether I can do the job,” said Trip. Starfleet didn’t post anyone who wasn’t physically fit to active duty not only because they could endanger their crewmates but also because they could be a danger to themselves, especially in an emergency situation.

“You know that you are capable of doing the job,” said T’Pol. “Captain Archer, Ambassador Soval and the Tellarite Ambassador all spoke on your behalf. You may remember that you saved his life when you successfully repaired his ship.”

“Even on a space station being an Engineer is a physical job,” replied Trip.

“Phlox believes that you will be able to cope with the physical aspects, provided you follow his instructions. I will be on hand to ensure that his orders are followed.”

“This is what you’ve been doing for the past week, isn’t it?”

T’Pol inclined her head. “Yes, it has been quite time consuming.”

“I thought that you were ignoring me. Hell, I was certain that you wouldn’t want to hang around with a guy who can’t even sit up without wheezing.”

“You are my t’hy’la. I could not abandon you, no matter what condition your health is in.” T’Pol held out her hand towards Trip, her index and middle finger extended in the traditional Vulcan gesture of affection. Trip formed his fingers into the same shape and T’Pol’s finger with his own. T’Pol dropped her shields for the first time for almost a week and he felt love pour through their link, even stronger now that they were in physical contact. He felt T’Pol’s suppressed worry for his health and he reassured her that he was fine and loved her in return.

He suddenly felt that her simple touch wasn’t enough, he pulled his t’hy’la into a hug and held her. When they eventually broke apart, Trip was grinning. T’Pol hadn’t been hiding things from him because she was leaving him, she had been hiding things because she hadn’t wanted to get his hopes up, and because she didn’t want Trip to know of her plan to resign should things not go her way. She was right to hide that one, Trip would have been upset at her for considering sacrificing her career for him.

“So we’re going to Deep Space One, huh?”

“Yes, although I have a month’s leave before I must depart. You will be joining me once Phlox has declared you fit enough to travel. I trust there will be no problems with my being your commanding officer?”

“There never has been before.”

“That is a false statement,” replied T’Pol. “I can think of several instances where you disobeyed or questioned my orders.”

“Any of those in the last couple of years?”

“Only last month you questioned my decision to…”

“Okay, okay! If you were worried about being my commanding officer, why did you work so hard to get me posted to Deep Space One?”

“You are my t’hy’la. It was the only logical option.”

“So you’re saying that you’re willing to put up with me annoying the hell out of you, so that we can be together.”

“You do not annoy me. I find you to be… challenging, at times.”

Trip laughed. “If that’s the worst that you can think to say about me then I guess we’re going to be okay.”

“On Vulcan we have a saying mesaha-tor ashaya ozhika k’leh-the tevun,” said T’Pol.

“Love outlasts logic by a thousand years,” said Trip.

“You understand Vulcan?”

“Just some basics. Not much else to do lying here,” replied Trip. “I’ve been studying. Mainly so I could say this to you properly. Eshikh svai, ashau nash-veh du.” The pronunciation was interesting, complete with southern accent, but T’Pol understood his meaning. Desert rose, I love you.

“T’hy’la, ashau nash-veh du,” replied T’Pol.

****

It was two months before Trip was well enough to travel and by then T’Pol had already been gone for a month. Trip was missing her like crazy. He’d felt their link fade as the Excalibur had taken her further and further away from Earth until there was nothing there, just an empty place in his head where T’Pol had been. It was something that neither of them had experienced before, they had almost always been in range of each other’s thoughts. They had worked out early on that Enterprise being in orbit around a planet wasn’t far enough away to break their communication, it just became more difficult and less precise the further away they were from each other. Unfortunately even their bond, as strong as it was, couldn’t reach the border of the Romulan neutral zone.

A lot happened in the month before T’Pol left for Deep Space One. She spent most of her time at the hospital going over briefing documents for her new assignment. She discussed everything with Trip that he would need to know if he was going to be her Chief Engineer. Deep Space One wasn’t Enterprise or one of the new warp seven ships that he’d hoped for duty on before all this happened, but at least he wouldn’t be stuck on Earth, or alone. T’Pol now wore an extra pip on her uniform that indicated that she had been promoted to Captain. Trip’s promotion was in the pipeline as well and the confirmation should be with him any day now.

Malcolm had decided in the end that he wasn’t ready to remain on Earth yet, so he’d taken the position on Excalibur, along with a promotion of his own. Excalibur was the closest thing that the fleet had to a battle ship and had been designed with Romulan attackers in mind. Trip knew that Malcolm had made the right decision and he was glad that he’d be with T’Pol on her way to take up her new command. Their earlier arguments had been completely forgotten as Trip’s mood lightened and he realised that he never really had blamed anything on Malcolm.

He had also discovered that whilst inactivity sucked big time, moving sucked even more when you only had half your usual lung capacity. Wheelchairs were the order of the day at first, which he hated, but then he discovered that moving on his own was absolutely exhausting. Phlox kept saying he needed to give it time, but after a month had gone by, Trip wondered if he’d ever be able to walk to the bathroom again without having to stop for a rest. There were also regular respiratory therapy sessions, during which Trip breathed into tubes and they tried to improve and gauge his lung capacity.

The day he left the hospital, he wasn’t sure how to feel. He was on his own two feet, able to get from A to B pretty much unaided, but he still wasn’t as strong as he could be. He was definitely happy to be getting out of the hospital, but he was apprehensive at the same time. Leaving hospital meant that he was expected to take up his old life again and be fit for duty. It would take a couple of weeks to get to Deep Space One, but he wasn’t sure that would give him enough time to prepare.

“You’re worried you’re not ready, aren’t you?” said Archer, from the doorway. He had come to pick Trip up from hospital.

“I thought it was T’Pol and I that had the bond,” said Trip, looking up at his visitor. He registered the new uniform after a double take. “Admiral. You took the promotion. Congratulations.”

Archer smiled. “Thanks. You know that they wouldn’t have given you this job if they didn’t think you could do it.”

“Yes, but how much of it was T’Pol talking them into it.”

“Phlox doesn’t make a habit of lying in official reports. He believed you’d recover enough to take up the position. As for the engineering side of things, your record speaks for itself.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, Cap…Admiral. I needed to hear that.”

“We all need a little reassurance sometimes. You’re the finest engineer I’ve ever known, and don’t you forget that. Come on let’s get you out to the hover car.”

Trip grabbed his walking stick, he still needed a little support, and Archer picked up Trip’s bag. “Can’t wait to see T’Pol. I miss her like hell.”

“You remember when she first came on board. I never thought you’d be saying that about her.”

“Things change. I can’t imagine living without her.”

****

Admiral Archer was drowning in paperwork and beginning to regret his decision to take the promotion. He never would have believed that there was so much logistics involved in running Starfleet, or that it seemed to devolve to Admirals to work out every little problem. That was how he came to find himself in cramped accommodations on Starbase Two rather than back in his comfortable office at Starfleet HQ. It seemed that there were some interspecies issues on the Starbase that couldn’t be resolved by a mere Captain. To make matters worse other things had come up in his absence that he now had to deal with from the Starbase. Dauntless had hit some difficulties on a first contact, Endeavour needed to go back to dock for repairs after a fire fight with the Klingons but, as it was due for decommissioning in a year’s time, someone had to make a decision about whether it was worth the expense, promotion lists were overdue and there weren’t enough hours in the day for all the forms that he needed to fill-in in triplicate.

His com sounded. His aide, Ensign Hanson, was calling.

“Sir, I have a Captain T’Pol from Deep Space One on the line for you,” said Hanson.

“T’Pol? Put her through,” said a surprised Archer, it was usually Trip who called to keep him updated on what was going on at Deep Space One. They had both settled in well and Trip seemed to be happy now that he was back with T’Pol and had an engineering department to play with again.

T’Pol’s face appeared on the screen. “Admiral. You look well.”

“So do you. I guess command must be suiting you.”

“I am enjoying the challenge,” replied T’Pol. “However I have encountered two problems which I require your help with.” Archer noted that T’Pol was still as direct as ever, obviously Trip hadn’t managed to mellow her that much.

“Problems? I find it hard to believe that there’s much that you and Trip can’t deal with together,” said Archer. The look in T’Pol’s eyes told him everything that he needed to know. “Trip’s one of the problems?” That was something that hadn’t changed, Trip and T’Pol still fought like cats and dogs.

T’Pol nodded. “We had a new contingent of personnel arrive. They brought a number of minor viruses with them.”

“You’re calling me because Trip has a cold?”

“It was a cold. He refused to rest and it became viral pneumonia.”

“Pneumonia? I’m guessing that with Trip’s pre-existing condition, it’s serious.”

“Very, however he is still refusing to rest, and neither Phlox nor I have been able to persuade him to do so,” said T’Pol.

“Even Trip isn’t that stupid. I’m guessing that this is linked to your other problem.”

“We received a distress signal from Excalibur just over twenty four hours ago.”

“Malcolm’s ship,” said Archer, understanding immediately why Trip would be working so hard.

“It was patrolling the edge of the neutral zone when the call came in.”

“You despatched a search party?” asked Archer.

“Of course. USS Durandal and USS Athena were in the area and are searching as we speak. However, the Romulans are refusing us entry to the neutral zone to continue our search and are jamming our scans.”

“Let me guess, Trip thinks that he can penetrate the jamming?”

“He believes that he can alter the station’s long range scanners so that they can detect the Excalibur’s warp signature.”

“So he’s working day and night to get it done whilst he’s suffering from pneumonia.”

“That is correct.”

“Tyrfing is in dock at the moment. I’ll be with you by tomorrow afternoon,” said Archer. Tyrfing was an Excalibur class vessel, Durandal and the namesake of the class, being the other two ships in that class, and it was easily capable of a sustained warp seven. Deep Space One was a day’s travel from Starbase Two at maximum warp. Archer hoped that Captain Austin wouldn’t mind leaving a little early, but then she did owe him a couple of favours, not least because he had recommended her to command Tyrfing.

“I had not intended you to leave your current assignment. I was merely hoping that you could talk to him,” said T’Pol.

“It’s no problem, T’Pol. One of the perks of being an Admiral is getting to order people around and being the one in charge. Tyrfing was headed in your direction anyway,” said Archer. In fact he was glad that T’Pol was giving him the opportunity to go travelling again and leave his paper work behind with a good excuse.

“Very well, if it will not inconvenience you, then I look forward to your visit,” said T’Pol with that non-smile that she used more and more now.

“Don’t worry, T’Pol. We’ll get Trip straightened out.”

“Vulcans do not worry,” said T’Pol.

Archer wondered if T’Pol knew what an accomplished liar she had become.

****

****

In fact, it was a little over a day before Archer arrived at Deep Space One. Tyrfing was staying around to help out with the search before going on to its original assignment. Archer disembarked the ship and found T’Pol was waiting to greet him. For once he was travelling light, with no aides accompanying him, extra baggage or ceremonies on his arrival. It made a nice change and, even given the circumstances, he was pleased to get the opportunity to visit Trip and T’Pol.

“It is good to see you, Admiral,” said T’Pol.

“You too, Captain. Let’s deal with first things first. Where’s Trip hiding?”

“The forward sensor array housing,” replied T’Pol. “He is not aware that you are coming, although I was unable to shield the fact that someone was arriving on Tyrfing. Thankfully, he is too engrossed in what he is doing to take time to probe more deeply.” T’Pol indicated for Archer to follow her and they wound their way through the maze like corridors of the recently reconstructed Deep Space Station.

Deep Space One had originally been intended as a multi-species deep space outpost, however during the Romulan War it had become far more important as an early warning station and listening post. The Romulans had also realised its value and it had been almost destroyed by a concerted Romulan attack a year into the war. T’Pol had spent the best part of six months putting it back together again with Trip’s help and that of her crew. It was looking good but cables still dangled from the ceiling in places, indicating that there was more work to be completed.

Finally they reached the forward sensor array housing and Archer located a familiar figure, working away at an open maintenance panel. There was a slight sheen to Trip’s pale skin and he had wrapped himself in a grey blanket. Occasionally he would stop what he was doing to cough violently before returning to his work.

“Captain Tucker,” said Archer.

Trip turned quickly at the sound of the familiar voice of his former commanding officer.

“Admiral, what are you doing here?” asked Trip, then he turned to T’Pol. “You could have told me.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” said T’Pol, without even a twitch of her eyebrows.

“I had hoped for a better welcome, Trip,” replied Archer. “Admirals are allowed to go where they want, you know.”

“Yes, sir, Admiral,” said Trip with a smile, before another coughing fit took hold.

“Shouldn’t you be in sick bay?” asked Archer.

“I don’t have time to lie around,” said Trip. He shivered a little and pulled the blanket closer around him.

“Trip, you have a fever,” said Archer in alarm. He took in the pale, damp skin, the coughing and shivering. Archer could even hear the wheezing in Trip’s breaths.

“I can still work. I’m not an invalid, you know,” said Trip. “We need to find Excalibur. If the Romulans have got her…”

“I know Trip, but not at the expense of your own health. Brief your staff on what you’re doing and go to sickbay.”

“It’s not that easy, Admiral. This isn’t exactly in the maintenance manual,” said Trip. Archer saw a look pass between Trip and T’Pol and knew that his verbal argument wasn’t the only one that was going on. There were a few moments of charged silence while Trip and T’Pol argued at the speed of thought. Trip’s hand gestures were enough to indicate that he didn’t like what T’Pol was saying, or rather thinking, to him.

“Eshikh svai t’platlar,” said T’Pol out loud, looking significantly at Trip, once again excluding Archer from the conversation.

“What does that mean?” asked Archer.

“A desert rose has thorns,” said Trip, not looking happy. Archer was none the wiser as to why that should be important, but it was obviously of significance to Trip as he was still arguing. “I knew it was a mistake accepting a post in your command. Just because they gave you your promotion one month before mine, you think you can boss me around.”

“I do not “boss you around”, I make command decisions. If you do not like it then you do not have to stay. You are a stubborn individual. I will carry you to sick bay if I have to,” said T’Pol. “Kicking and screaming if necessary.”

“I have a better idea,” said Archer. “Captain Tucker, I hereby order you to present yourself to sickbay and not to leave until Doctor Phlox releases you.”

“Admiral! I’ve got work to do,” protested Trip.

“Captain, don’t make me get security,” said Archer. He sighed, if ordering Trip didn’t work then perhaps something else would. “Trip you promised me that you’d try to take care of yourself. If you won’t do it for me, think about what this is doing to T’Pol.”

Trip shot Archer a dirty look, before he lent on a bulkhead and felt all the strength go out of him. He didn’t have to think about how this was affecting T’Pol, despite her best attempts she couldn’t shield or repress all her emotions in relation to him.

“Fine, whatever you want,” said Trip. He handed the padd that he’d been working on to T’Pol. He brushed past his former CO and current CO, trying to be confident in his stride even if he didn’t feel confident.

He had barely walked two steps when he stumbled and it was only Archer and T’Pol’s quick actions that stopped him hitting the deck. Trip felt reassurance from T’Pol and he realised that the thoughts he was broadcasting at that moment were pure worry and pain. He did his best to reign in his feelings and shield his thoughts as he knew what it did to T’Pol, but he didn’t think he was doing that well as T’Pol was still talking soothingly to him. Except her lips weren’t moving and that meant she was speaking through their bond. He had to be out of it if he couldn’t tell the difference, usually it was very obvious.

Archer and T’Pol helped Trip limp along to the station’s sickbay, although it was clear that Trip was fading fast. The trio finally arrived at sickbay, where Phlox was waiting for them.

“Let this be a lesson, Captain,” said Phlox as they helped Trip onto an empty biobed in the spacious sickbay. “If you had stayed in sickbay yesterday then you probably would have recovered in a day or so, instead I expect you’ll be spending the week in my care.”

“Sorry, Doc,” mumbled Trip. “Just wanted to find Malcolm. Sorry to cause so much trouble.”

“Next time, maybe you’ll listen to me,” said Phlox. “Although I seriously doubt you will learn from your mistakes.”

“I have already chastised him for his stubbornness,” said T’Pol, it sounded to Archer almost as if she was telling the doctor off for being hard on Trip. She placed a cool hand on Trip’s forehead and he closed his eyes at the pleasant sensation.

Archer noted that T’Pol wore a ring on her left ring finger, exactly where a wedding ring would have been on a human. Trip hadn’t told him that he and T’Pol had been married so he wondered what the ring signified in this case. The love in her touch and posture was obvious to anyone who cared to look.

Phlox administered medication and finally Trip’s breathing eased and the lines of pain disappeared from his face. The doctor continued to work on his patient, attaching IV lines and oxygen tubes so that Trip could get well more quickly.

Once Trip was properly settled, T’Pol and Archer moved off to one side so that they could talk. Trip’s eyes were closed but Archer doubted that he was sleeping, and even though they were trying to be quiet Archer would have bet money that Trip was listening in.

“What’s the latest on Excalibur?” asked Archer.

“All grids are negative so far, but with sensors functioning at less than optimal settings it is proving difficult to search efficiently,” said T’Pol. She looked down at the padd that Trip had handed her and paused for a moment. “However, I believe that Trip has given me the necessary instructions to adjust the main sensor array.”

“Do you want a hand?” asked Archer.

T’Pol glanced back at Trip, and Archer knew that she was torn between her duty and her t’hy’la.

“Don’t mind me,” croaked Trip, eyes still shut. “Just find Excalibur.” Once again T’Pol hadn’t needed to voice her concern to Trip, he’d just known what she was thinking. Archer never failed to be amazed by his friends’ link. T’Pol was looking at Trip in a significant way, her face softening.

“I’ll be fine,” said Trip, peeling his eyes open and blinking in T’Pol’s direction. From that Archer guessed T’Pol had said that she didn’t want to leave Trip alone while he was sick. “Tell her, Doc.”

“He is in good hands,” said Phlox.

“Very well,” said T’Pol, turning on her heel and exiting sickbay. Trip smiled at the view of her retreating form and Archer decided that there was nothing to do but follow her.

****

Archer and T’Pol worked on the sensors together. Their usual roles were reversed as T’Pol gave instructions to Archer from Trip’s padd. Archer didn’t mind being the one who was doing the work as he doubted that he would have had any idea how to read Trip’s schematics. He was slightly surprised that T’Pol was able to work it out since Trip had his own short hand that he used when he was making notes. This was one of the times that Archer was extremely glad of their close bond.

“How has Trip been?” asked Archer, as they worked.

“His health has improved considerably since he was injured. He has been working full shifts for the last month. However, this has made him tired and Phlox was considering restricting him to part time duty again.”

“Which, knowing Trip, he wasn’t too happy about,” said Archer.

“Indeed. He has already violated medical orders regarding his working hours several times. The Doctor and I find this frustrating,” said T’Pol.

“I’m sure frustrating isn’t the word,” said Archer. “Is he going to get any better? I don’t mean from the pneumonia, I mean generally. You said he was still tired.”

“Phlox believes that he may be able to develop further treatments to help him, but without more treatment, the doctor thinks he will not improve substantially more. Trip is reluctant to take time off work for an operation which would require lengthy recovery time.”

“He’s always taken his work seriously. Maybe too seriously. I’d hoped that after he put himself in the hospital, he’d start taking care of himself. I suppose I should have known better.”

“He is not someone who takes advice easily,” replied T’Pol. She turned back to the open panel, padd in hand. “The amplification module is complete.”

“Do we need to depolarise these couplings before we connect the module?” asked Archer.

“I will ask Trip,” said T’Pol. “He is still awake and trying to listen to our conversation.”

Archer smiled. Even sick, Trip could still be a handful.

“He says it is not required,” said T’Pol after a second or two. “Once these connections are made, we should be able to activate the enhanced sensor array.”

Archer nodded. He finished the work and then carefully replaced the covering. Jogging circuits now could mean that connections were dislodged and then they’d have to come back to find the problem which could take up time that they didn’t have.

Archer and T’Pol left the sensor housing compartment and headed up to the control room, where T’Pol ousted the Ensign who was currently sitting at the science station. She deftly pressed buttons on the control panel and began her sensor sweeps of the surrounding area.

“The enhanced sensors are functioning at optimal efficiency,” she reported.

“Are you picking anything up?” asked Archer.

“Not as yet. To scan the whole area will take a number of hours,” said T’Pol. “I have programmed the computer to carry out the required search pattern. Our continuous presence here is not required and I suggest we use this time to rest.”

Archer knew that T’Pol meant that he should get some rest, she would be going to sickbay to visit Trip.

“Okay, I’ll admit that it’s been a long day. Do you have a bunk for me?”

“Of course. I will show you to the guest quarters,” said T’Pol.

****

Archer hadn’t found it easy to get to sleep. No matter how many starbases and ships he visited, Enterprise was the only one that had ever felt like home. He travelled so much now on ships that he didn’t command, weren’t his, that he always felt like an interloper. Even here on Deep Space One, it was T’Pol’s station, her baby, and he’d be moving on as soon as Excalibur’s disappearance was resolved, one way or another. He never thought that he would be looking forward to being back on Earth, but these days it was the closest thing he had to a home. He’d even bought an apartment in San Francisco, which he’d resisted at first, not wanting to be tied down in case he was called for deep space duty again. But Admirals didn’t command deep space missions, so he’d given in and bought himself a place he could at least try to call home. Trip had always complained when he was on Earth that there were no vibrations to be felt through the floor, which wasn’t natural, he claimed. Archer was beginning to strongly see what he meant by that.

When the com beeped at him, he knew he hadn’t slept for more than a couple of hours. However, he was used to running on whatever sleep he could get.

“Archer,” he said blearily when he located the com unit.

“We have found something on long range sensors,” said T’Pol’s unmistakeable tones.

“Is it Excalibur?”

“Unknown. Tyrfing is still in dock and I would like your permission to accompany it to investigate the readings.”

“You have my permission, but I’m coming with you,” said Archer.

“I am not sure that would be wise,” said T’Pol. “You should stay on Deep Space One and assume command in my absence.”

“Sorry, T’Pol, it’s a package deal. You want to take Tyrfing out, then I’m coming too. Captain Austin owes me a favour or two.”

“Very well, I will meet you at the docking bay in fifteen minutes,” said T’Pol. The connection fell silent. Archer allowed himself a small smile before he concentrated on finding clothes and getting dressed.

By the time he arrived, T’Pol was waiting for him and he was well aware that he was late. T’Pol of course couldn’t complain out loud about the time keeping of a superior officer, however her body language managed to clearly indicate her displeasure at the delay.

“The signal is coming from the Romulan Neutral Zone,” said T’Pol, handing Archer a padd. “I believe I can also modify the sensors on Tyrfing using Trip’s notes. We can then take more readings once we are closer to the source of emission.”

“Good idea,” said Archer, scanning the padd.

T’Pol turned her head and looked down the empty corridor, just as Archer was about to question her further.

“What is it?” he asked. Then he saw why T’Pol was looking. Coming around the corner, practically hanging onto the wall, was a forlorn looking figure with Captain’s pips and an Engineer’s red stripe on his uniform. “Trip!” exclaimed Archer.

“Don’t say it,” said Trip holding up a hand to stop the tirade that he knew was coming from either his t’hy’la or his friend, probably both. “You want to modify the sensors on Tyrfing, you need me to do it. They aren’t the same as the ones on DS1 and my notes aren’t going to help.”

“How were you able to conceal your leaving sickbay from me?” asked T’Pol.

Trip shrugged. “You were busy analysing the sensor readings. I just made sure my shields didn’t slip and I was home dry. I’ve had a good long rest and Phlox’s meds have done me the world of good, so don’t bother arguing with me, I’m coming along.”

“You can barely stand,” said Archer. “You aren’t even cleared for duty, let alone shipboard duty.”

“I can do it, Admiral. Just give me a chance to show you,” said Trip.

“Trip, you’ve got nothing to prove to me. I know that when you’re well you’re very capable, but you’ve got a bad case of pneumonia and wearing yourself out is only going to make things worse. Please, just go back to sickbay and we’ll keep you updated on everything that’s going on.”

“This is extremely illogical,” said T’Pol, exasperation colouring her voice and proving just how frustrated with Trip she was. Archer hadn’t heard her use the L word for some time.

“Love and friendship don’t mix with logic, you know that, t’hy’la,” said Trip. “Look, Tyrfing’s got a sickbay just as good as the one here, we could take Phlox with us and, when I’m not working, I promise I’ll be in sickbay. We won’t even be away from the station that long. Please, you know I have to do this. This is Malcolm’s ship that’s out there. He pulled me out of more scrapes than I care to remember, this is my chance to return the favour.” He added mentally, and prove that I really never blamed him for not coming to the rescue that one last time.

He heard T’Pol answer mentally also. “You have already apologised for that false accusation and he accepted the apology. As the Captain said, you have nothing to prove to any of us.”

“Even if I don’t have anything to prove, he’s my friend. I’m not backing down T’Pol. You’re going to have to throw me in the brig if you expect me to stay here.”

Trip heard the amusement in T’Pol’s mind at that prospect and wondered if his bluff was about to be called. Instead she said out loud, “I will inform the Doctor that he will be joining us.”

Archer looked surprised but had obviously decided not to comment on T’Pol’s change of heart. “Okay, let’s get on board and I’ll break the news to Tyrfing’s Captain and Chief Engineer that we’re going to be modifying the ship’s sensors.”



Part 2 (sections 4 & 5)

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A whole mess of folks have made comments

Glad to see you're continuing, Drogna! This is a good story and I'm really looking forward to the next chapter.

A great continuation! Poor Trip...but damn stubborn too! Looking foward to your next update...

Terrific story! Trip's depression after his injury and his reaction to his disability are very believable. I found that the oral and mental communications both being in quotes and non-italicized was a little confusing, especially in that last scene, but that's a minor thing and has nothing to do with the quality of the story. I'm looking forward to the next chapter.

I loved "Desert Rose" and this is a great continuation so far. I really like the fact that Trip and T'Pol still argue and have trouble communicating even with the bond. So many people seem to think that the bond would solve all their problems. It is nice to see them portrayed this way. I can see the bond helping to solve arguments, but not prevent them. Besides, they like to argue.

I cought this fic when it poped up at that other site,,, poor Trip,, no matter where he goes,, no matter who writes him,, he will alwasy be a stuburn pain in the arse,,, He'd better learn to take it easy,,, I think T'pol will die young from woryin after her husband,, poor gal,,,Love this story cant wait for the next update.

I read this over at ff.net and enjoyed it very much. Terrific work.

I must admit I didn't read that many of the so-called finale fixes, but I think I'll have to go back and read Desert Rose since this one was so well-written.
Anyway, this story pulled me in from the beginning - a very realistic future and a excellent continuation of the disaster that was TATV...am greatly looking forward to more (In the middle I was afraid you were going to leave it with them being posted to the same station...I'm glad to see we'll be learning more about their life there.)
And somebody, please, knock (gently) some sense into OMT!

i`ve read your stories and i must say they are very appealing. it`s good to see how realistic you write people`s reactions ( trip being stubborn, archer getting a little bit depressed by being an admiral, and t`pol not quite knowing how to keep trip at bay ) though i must say i dislike having to keep reading how trip has been practically handicapped. i know its none of my business, but it`s really a downer. anyways, im looking forward to the sequel!

I like your story, even if you did use 'reign in' instead of 'rein in,' which is correct. The one really glaring problem with your story line, and several others have done this as well, is Trip's continued problems with 'reduced lung capacity.' My father lost a lung in World War II, resulting in severe 'reduced lung capacity.' He managed to live a long and healthy life, complete with rigorous exercise (my sister and I were both born years after the lung was lost) and hard work. One lung can do the work of two without much of a problem. With the improved medical treatment available in the Trek universe, Trip shouldn't have much dificulty with a halved or even smaller lung capacity.

This is truly well-written and you have captured the charactizations impeccably.

It is one of the few stories written in Third Person Omniscient that isn't confusing. Very realistic. I hope that you update soon.