U-Turn

U-Turn

By ShouldKnowBetter

Rating: PG13
Summary: Archer and Tucker struggle to come to terms with T’Pol’s death.
Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters, the Star Trek franchise and the universe. I just use them for my own private, non-profit making amusement.

Notes:
1. This follows “Blind Alley”.
2. This takes no account of any spoilers, episode summaries, etc, for Season 3.

This series begins with “Down a Dark Road” which was originally part of the at TRIP! Fiction contest. The complete series is as follows:

Down a Dark Road

A Winding Road

Reflections

Blind Alley

U-Turn

Nightmare Run

Road Rage

Hunter Hunted

The Reckoning

*******************

Reed glanced up as Tucker came onto the bridge then stared critically at his friend as the man approached him. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.” If the engineer had been asked that question six months before, the reply would have been aggressively positive. At least this time he sounded as if he thought about the answer. Reed relaxed a little and then again when Tucker shrugged and added, “Sort of.”

“You look shattered.”

Tucker smiled tiredly. “Late night.”

“And early morning?”

“That too.” He nodded towards the ready room. “Is he in there?”

Reed nodded, mouth twisting in anxious sympathy. “He’s not taking this well.”

“He blames himself, Malcolm. Maybe with reason.”

The armoury officer shook his head more in regret than denial and Tucker shrugged in helpless agreement and started to turn away. “Trip, while you’re in there, ask the captain to reinstate you.” He met the other man’s eyes. “He needs a first officer. Best it’s you.”

There was a long pause before the ready room door opened in response to Tucker’s request and he stepped inside, frowning at the sight of Archer slumped motionless in a chair, hardly acknowledging his visitor. “I’ve checked our supply status.” The captain didn’t reach for the PADD that Tucker slid across the table. “We can spare the parts to build up another shuttle pod. D’you want me to get started?” There was no response. “Cap’n?”

Archer nodded jerkily. “Do it.”

“Have you spoken to Admiral Forrest?”

The captain shook his head then seemed to feel that an answer was necessary. “No.” The word stuck and he cleared his throat. “Not yet. Hoshi’s trying to establish a channel.” He paused again. “I’ve asked for Soval to be there.”

Tucker’s mouth twitched but he only said quietly, “D’you want company for that?”

“No.” Archer’s fist clenched. “Maybe later.”

“Sure. Cap’n,” the engineer didn’t want to ask but Reed had been right, “about my status …”
The man frowned up at him without apparent understanding then reached forward to swing a
screen into Tucker’s view. “You’re reinstated. T’Pol,” he stopped to swallow hard, “T’Pol told me you were ready for command again.” It was the engineer’s turn to duck his head, breathing deeply. “You’ll have to take over her duties as first officer.” It was apparent that Archer was keeping his voice even with difficulty. “Let me know if it affects your other duties.”

“Captain,” Sato’s voice cut through the painful atmosphere, “I have Admiral Forrest for you, sir.”

He pulled himself a little straighter, nodding dismissal to Tucker as he activated the comm. “Put the admiral through, ensign.”

“Jon,” Forrest began as soon as his image formed and then hesitated. “It didn’t go well.”

“No.” Briefly Archer closed his eyes. “What we’d hoped was the weapon construction site was just a sham, a decoy. We walked into a trap, admiral.”

“Casualties?”

“Fourteen marines dead.” The captain looked over Forrest’s shoulder to where the Vulcan stood, hands clasped before him. “Ambassador Soval, I’m sorry … T’Pol … didn’t make it back.” For a second he saw stunned disbelief on the man’s face then Soval turned away, putting his back to the screen.

“Jon,” Forrest looked sick, “I don’t know what to say.”

“It was my fault.” Archer’s voice was abruptly full of self-loathing. “I was the one who insisted we had to go in. T’Pol tried to warn me it was a trap. I wouldn’t listen to her.”

“And so she died.” Soval had turned back, any emotion he might have experienced under control again although his words left no doubt that he utterly condemned whatever circumstances had led to his protégé’s death. “T’Pol believed that she had a role on Enterprise as an advisor, as the voice of logic in the face of emotion. Why did you not listen to her, Captain Archer?”

“Because I didn’t want to.” He’d asked himself the same question a dozen times in the last eighteen hours whilst he was supposed to be resting. “Because the crew were getting tired and I wanted to end it.”

“And for T’Pol and fourteen others, it did end.”

“Captain Archer’s well aware of that, ambassador,” Forrest intervened. “Jon, what’s your current status?”

“We’ve evaded the Xindi ships that came after us with minimal damage to Enterprise, but we lost the two shuttle pods. Commander Tucker says he can construct one new one.”

“Who’ll take over as your first officer?”

“Tucker.”

“Are you sure, Jon? After the emotional problems he had following his sister’s death …”

“He’s fine.”

The admiral didn’t look too happy at that. “Don’t let friendship get in the way, Jonathan. That wasn’t the first time he’d got into trouble.”

“I’m sure.”

“As long as you are.” Forrest sat back a little. “Captain, submit your full report and General Casey’s too. Starfleet will need a little time to react to this one. Can you keep out of sight for a few days?”

“We’re in a quiet corner, sir.”

“Then keep your heads down. I’m sorry for your losses, Jon. Starfleet out.”

~

The first thing she became aware of was the heat and then the drag of gravity as she raised an arm to push down the blanket that covered her. It took a long moment to reach the logical conclusion, and once reached it still made little sense. She was on Vulcan, but why? Surely she had not intended to return even though the High Command had been insistent.

“Sub-Commander T’Pol.” The voice was quiet, uninflected, clearly Vulcan, but it was no one she knew. Confused, she opened her eyes – why had she not done that before? – and found a tall man staring down at her. “Do not be concerned. A certain amount of confusion is to be expected.”

“I … do not recall …”

“Also to be expected. Your memory will return in time.”

“Really, Tolan, you’re supposed to reassure her!” That voice was familiar although it wasn’t one that had ever filled T’Pol with anything except mild annoyance. Another man stepped into view, human, smiling brightly. The last time she had seen him, he had served her breakfast in the captain’s mess. “Welcome to the future, sub-commander.”

T’Pol pulled herself up against the wall behind the bed, avoiding the hand that the man who resembled Crewman Daniels held out to help her. A hospital bed, she deduced, given the amount of equipment strewn around. “The Vulcan Science Directorate has determined that time travel is impossible.”

“They’ll change their minds eventually.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re on Vulcan. We thought it would be more comfortable for you to be somewhere … familiar.”

She took another look around the room, then at the two men. “This is not the first time that the Xindi have attempted to manipulate the mind of a member of Enterprise’s crew.”

“Good,” the Vulcan said flatly, “your memory is returning.”

Daniels beamed reassuringly at T’Pol. “What’s the last thing you remember, sub-commander?”

She frowned, searching her memories. Much of the past seemed a trifle hazy, but that instinctive protest regarding the Xindi had brought some things into focus. “We were attempting to penetrate the presumed weapon construction site. However, it proved to be trap. We were leaving when …”

“Yes?”

“I believed … that we had triggered a booby trap.”

“You had.” The man’s voice became kind. “You were killed, T’Pol.”

T’Pol stared blankly at the human. “I … do not believe you.”

“Why not?”

“I am not dead.”

“You were. Take a look.” He pressed a few controls behind her head and in front of T’Pol, suspended half way to the ceiling, a three dimensional, half-sized image formed of a chamber in which Daniels and Tolan stood, the human working over a terminal. As she watched, a shimmer developed on the floor of the chamber and her own body appeared, turned on its side and alarmingly limp. The image of Tolan hurried forward and Daniels joined him as the Vulcan knelt to run a scanner over her body. “Can you revive her?”

“I believe so. The internal injuries are severe but little time has elapsed since the body ceased functioning.”

Daniels reached behind T’Pol again and the image flicked out. “I see no reason to believe in the veracity of what you have shown me.”

He frowned at her. “You’re not being very cooperative, T’Pol. Captain Archer didn’t have any trouble accepting the truth.”

“Then why did you not abduct him again?”

A look of embarrassment crossed Daniels’ face. “There was a change to the rules after the … incident … when I brought Captain Archer to this century. Now we’re only permitted to transport dead bodies out of their own time.”

It was the embarrassment that started to convince T’Pol although there were still inconsistencies in the story she had been told. “There have been many other deaths. Why not take one of them?”

“It had to be someone Captain Archer would trust.”

That induced a definite feeling of discomfort. “The crew of Enterprise believe that I am … dead?”

“I’m afraid so.” Daniels observed her frown and added encouragingly, “We’ll have you back with them as soon as possible.”

“But first you must rest.” The Vulcan doctor stepped in again with a warning glance at Daniels. “It will take a little time further for your body to revive.”

“I wish to be returned to Enterprise at once.”

“Now, now, sub-commander,” the human was as annoying as all the rest of his species, “you must do as your doctor tells you.” He beamed at her in the way that had always irritated her when he served her meals. “Captain Archer will be fine for a few hours without you to look after him.”

She glared even as the doctor settled her back. “I do not doubt the captain’s ability to conduct himself in a professional manner.”

“And I’m sure he’ll prevent Commander Tucker from doing something stupid.”

“I doubt that.”

~

Archer didn’t look up at his visitor but kept his attention on his glass. Tucker sighed and took the seat across the table, tipping the bourbon bottle to check the level. “Drinking by yourself’s not a real good idea.”

“So get yourself a glass.” Archer refilled his own and knocked most of it back.

“Not tonight.” The captain reached for the bottle again and a firm hand caught his wrist. “Cap’n, maybe you’ve had enough.”

Archer pulled free and poured another shot. “Maybe you’re wrong.”

Tucker grimaced and prudently moved the bottle out of range, ignoring the other man’s scowl. “What did Admiral Forrest say?”

“Not much. Starfleet want to review the reports.” Archer shook his head, still not looking at his friend. “The worst of it was telling Soval. I’d never realised how … fond … he was of T’Pol. He looked …” He broke off, hand rubbing his mouth and Tucker sighed.

“Cap’n, you can’t take all the blame for this. We’re at war. Bad things are gonna happen. It’s still the Xindi who are at the bottom of this.”

“Nice try, Trip.” Archer raised his eyes to the younger man, masochistically intent on pushing him away. “But you’re wrong.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I was the one who insisted we went after that construction site!”

“And we wouldn’t have been looking for it if it wasn’t for the Xindi!”

“T’Pol told me it was a trap.”

“It was still her choice to go with you.”

“Did she tell you that she thought the Xindi had been playing with my mind?”

“Yeah.”

“Now we know she was right.”

“We don’t know that. Maybe in that other reality we were fooled too.”

“I knew I shouldn’t have accepted that information.” He grimaced, shaking his head. “They’d obtained it by torturing prisoners.”

“Could you have stopped them?”

“I don’t know.” Archer rubbed his eyes. “Face it, Trip. I screwed up and fifteen people died because of it. That’s what my report to Starfleet says.”

“What d’you think they’ll do?” Tucker’s voice had gone quiet.

“Recall us. We’re not getting anywhere. A fifth of the crew have already died. Enterprise would be more use defending Earth against an attack.”

“I don’t buy that.”

“It’s the truth.” There was a pause and then the captain raised a hand to press against his eyes again. “Maybe drinking alone wasn’t a good idea.”

“You need to get some sleep, Cap’n.”

“Bridge to Captain Archer.”

Tucker grimaced and looked over at his captain who had closed his eyes, clearly struggling to gather the energy even to answer the hail. Call it an initiative test. “Tucker to the bridge. Go ahead.”
“Commander,” Mayweather sounded surprised, as well he might, “is the captain there?”

“He can hear you. What’s the problem, Ensign?”

“We’ve received a distress call, sir. Something about a ship being attacked.”

“Where did it originate?”

“About a light year from our current position.”

“OK.” Tucker took another look at Archer who was listening with no sign of enthusiasm. “Hold our position for now.”

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman sounded unhappy. “Bridge out.”

“Cap’n, you want me to go handle it?”

“What’s to handle? It’s probably another trap.”

“Sir?” Tucker wondered if he’d heard right. “Are you sure? Could be people in trouble.”

“We’re in trouble, commander.” He’d never heard that note of cynicism from the older man before. “No one ever helps us out.”

“Cap’n,” Tucker came back to his seat, frowning, “are you really saying we should ignore a distress call?” There was no answer. “You told me that we had to find allies here. Can we pass up the chance?”

“The chance of finding a dozen Xindi ships waiting for us?”

“So we don’t rush in. Cap’n,” Tucker didn’t like to push but it was his job now, “if you want your first officer’s opinion, we shouldn’t ignore this one. Not if we wanna be the good guys.”

Archer’s eyes closed again as he rubbed his mouth and Tucker winced, never having thought to see the day when his captain struggled with a decision not because it was hard but because he’d lost confidence in himself. “All right, Commander Tucker, have it your way.” Sunken, disinterested eyes met the engineer’s. “But you can handle it. I’m going to bed.”

~

Mayweather was still unhappy when Tucker reached the bridge - not that the engineer felt any better. “Where’s the captain?”

“Getting some rest. What have we got?”

“Distress call, like I said.” The helmsman nodded to the man at the communication station and he replayed the recording that crackled and broke up.

“Help us! Please, help us! They appeared out of nowhere and now they’re trying to board. Please, if you hear this …” The recording faded into static and Mayweather shrugged at Tucker’s disgust.

“That’s all there was, sir.”

“Any sign of other ships in the area?”

“Not around here. We’re too far away to detect if there’s a ship in the area where the distress call originated.” He turned for a look at the engineer’s thoughtful expression. “Do you think it’s genuine, commander?”

Tucker blew out his breath in a sigh. “Could be.”

“Are we going to turn our backs on a distress call?”

“No.” Tucker settled into the command chair, silently praying that the return of his authority hadn’t affected his judgment. “Set a course for the origin of that call but drop us out of warp once we’re in sensor range.”

~

The most detailed sensors sweeps could detect nothing but the mauled carcass of a small ship so Tucker gritted his teeth, mentally crossed his fingers and ordered Enterprise in, knowing that the rest of the bridge crew, summoned from their beds, were on the verge of demanding to know where their captain was. He just hoped that he could duck the question until Archer had snapped out of his bout of guilt and self-doubt because there was no good way to break the news that their much-respected leader was sleeping off a slight over-indulgence in bourbon and couldn’t be bothered to come to the bridge.

Mayweather brought them out of warp within a few hundred kilometres of the wreck and they all winced at the scorch marks on the hull as the man at the science station struggled to fill T’Pol’s role. “It’s been attacked, commander.” Tucker silently rolled his eyes ceiling-wards. “Main power’s off-line, no offensive or defensive capability, life support’s failing. The residual weapon signatures,” the man paused in surprise, double-checking the figures, “they look Klingon, sir.”

“Duras!” Reed muttered. “Just what we need!”

“Any survivors?”

“I’m picking up very faint life signs, sir.” This time the man turned to look at Tucker, expression disapproving. “They’re Xindi, Commander.”

The engineer faced forward again, staring at the screen while around him the rest stirred restlessly. “Anything on long range sensors?”

“No, sir.”

“Take us closer, Travis. See if you can dock us.”

“Sir?” The helmsman swung round, frowning. “You’re going to rescue them? After what they’ve done!”

“We don’t know what they’ve done.” Tucker’s voice was level. “Maybe they can tell us. Take us in, Ensign.”

“Ay, sir.”

Reluctantly the helmsman turned back to his board and Reed drifted to the engineer’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t you ask the captain about this, commander?”

“He told me to handle it.”

“Where is he, anyway?”

“Resting.”

Tucker hadn’t looked around and neither did his tone encourage conversation, but the Englishman refused to be put off. “During an incident?”

This time he did get a look – a fierce one. “What are you implying, Malcolm?”

“Is he all right?”

The question was a good deal less suspicious than the previous ones and Tucker grimaced a little in response to the less formal approach, but was saved from having to answer when Mayweather said confidently, “I’ve located a docking port, sir. Attaching now.”

Tucker bounced to his feet. “Travis, be ready to disengage as soon as anything appears on long range sensors. Come on, Malcolm, let’s go see what the inside of a Xindi ship looks like.”

~

“Well,” Reed withdrew his head and phase pistol from the latest doorway they had passed, “if all Xindi ships are this luxurious, I wouldn’t mind swapping quarters.”

“It’s gotta be someone’s private yacht.” Tucker stepped over the butchered body of a Xindi and consulted his scanner. “Maybe that’s why the Klingons attacked it.”

“Piracy? Makes a change from demanding Captain Archer’s head, I suppose.” That reminded Reed that he wasn’t entirely happy with the current state of affairs. “Commander, what is the problem with the captain?”

A door opened in front of Tucker. “Engineering.”

“Shouldn’t we have gone to the bridge first?”

“Why?” Tucker was prowling around the battered compartment. “This is the important place – or should be.”

He had halted in front of an open hatch and was peering inside, mouth twisted with disappointment. Reed joined him from what had looked like a tactical display. “What is it?”

“Computer core. Expect someone got here first. It’s gone.”

The armoury officer pulled a face and turned to survey the rest of the room. “It’s been stripped. The Klingons must be running short of spare parts.”

“So are we.” Tucker sighed and consulted his scanner again. “There’s nothing for us here. Let’s find those survivors. Maybe they can tell us something.”

The scanner led them to a cabin that could only be described as a state apartment, although the condition of the woman lying on the bed made both men grit their teeth and Tucker turned away after the briefest of glances, reaching for his communicator. “Tucker to Enterprise.”

“Go ahead, sir.”

“Anything on sensors yet, Hoshi?”

“No, sir.”

“Then have Phlox send a medical team over here. Out.” He exchanged a disgusted look with Reed then both jumped at a slight noise from under the bed. The armoury officer gestured him to the other side then cautiously raised a corner of the hanging, inserting his phase pistol. There was a muffled gasp and movement the other side and Tucker grabbed the small figure that wriggled out almost at his feet, locking his forearm across the narrow chest. “Keep still or I’ll hurt you.”

The wriggling ceased and the child took a fearful look upwards and burst into hysterical sobs that so surprised Tucker that he relaxed his grip. The Xindi jerked free and flung itself onto the bed by the brutalised woman, cuddling up to her blood stained body as it continued to cry.

~

Phlox pulled the sheet up to cover the face of the Xindi woman and came over to where Tucker stood a few feet away, arms folded. “There was nothing I could do for her. She’d lost far too much blood.”

“What about the kid?”

“Physically, she’s unharmed.” The Denobulan looked over at where the child lay on a biobed in drugged slumber. “Evidently Klingons don’t rape children. No doubt something to do with honour.” His sarcasm was evident.

“She?”

“Yes. The superficial differences between male and female Xindi aren’t significant but the child is definitely female. That,” he indicated the copse, “was her mother.” Tucker winced despite his personal vendetta against the Xindi; he couldn’t quite make himself believe that any child deserved to see its mother raped and beaten. “What do you wish me to do with the child, commander?”

Since Tucker hadn’t thought that one through yet, it was a good time for Archer to arrive, although if he had got any sleep over the preceding hours, it didn’t appear to have done him any good. “What did you want, commander?”

He sounded as if he didn’t give a damn and Tucker sighed. “We rescued a couple of Xindi from the ship that sent out the distress call, cap’n. I thought maybe you’d wanna question them, but the woman just died and the other’s only a kid.”

The captain rubbed his eyes as if trying to think. “Was there anything of use on the ship?”

“No, sir. The Klingons had gutted it.”

“Then return the survivor and get Enterprise away from here.”

Archer had already started for the door when Tucker recovered from his shock. “Cap’n, we can’t do that!”

“Why not?” The other man had halted but not bothered to look around.

“Life support’s failed. She’d die within an hour or two.”

“You have a problem with that, commander?”

“Yeah.” Tucker moved to confront the other man. “Yes, I do, cap’n! It’s … not right.”

“Then you’d better do what you think is right, Commander Tucker, because frankly, I’m not interested.”

He left and the engineer dropped his head, biting his lip as he struggled to accept the unacceptable truth that his captain had given up.

A hand fell on his shoulder. “I believe that we should allow Captain Archer a certain amount of licence at this time.”

Tucker looked up into the Denobulan’s inhumanly blue eyes. “I can’t believe he’d just … stop caring.”

“I’m sure he blames himself for the deaths of the marines … and of Sub-Commander T’Pol.”

“Yeah, but …”

“Commander, are you aware of the relationship between Captain Archer and the sub-commander?”

The engineer hesitated then said a trifle uncertainly, “Sure.”

“I admit I have no proof, but I know the captain was sexually attracted to her and you must admit that her behaviour has frequently demonstrated how fond of him she was. We have to give him time to grieve.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I know that, doc.”

Tucker headed for the door and Phlox called after him, “The child, commander?”

“I’ll … get back to you on that one.”

~

Sato looked up with concern as Tucker came onto the bridge and approached her workstation. “Are you OK, sir? You look … sick.”

“I’m fine.” He brushed off her concern irritably. “Hoshi, can you get down to sickbay and take care of the kid we found on that ship?”

“A Xindi?”

“Yeah, a Xindi! A six year old one, ensign. OK?”

“Of course, sir.” She watched him walk away, pulled a face at Mayweather and headed for the lift. It looked as if Commander Tucker hadn’t taken T’Pol’s death as calmly as it had appeared. Sato just hoped that Captain Archer reappeared before his new first officer did something crazy.

“Anything on sensors?”

Wary after the exchange between chief engineer and communications officer, Mayweather resisted himself to fact. “No, sir.”

In the command chair, Tucker brooded silently for a few moments then came to lean over the helm. “Pull up a star chart, Travis.”

~

When the door to Sato’s cabin opened, Tucker stepped back from the screams that issued forth although he wasn’t allowed to escape that easily as the woman herself emerged and theatrically gestured for him to enter. “You’re not escaping that easily, sir.” It was the Xindi child who was screaming, her cries echoing around the bathroom where she could be seen curled in a corner. “She’s been doing that for over an hour, commander, and I’ve had enough.”

“What started her off?”

“How should I know? I’m just the one who got dumped on.”

“You used to teach. I thought you’d be able to handle her.”

“I taught adults, commander. Now get her out of here before my hearing’s permanently impaired.”

Reluctantly Tucker approached the girl who at least stopped screaming although he suspected that it was fear that kept her quiet since she huddled more closely into her corner. “Hey.” Great start, Trip. “We’re not gonna hurt you, honey.” Not if he could bundle her off the ship before Archer realised she was still on board. “What’s your name?” There was no response and he looked questioningly up at Sato. “What’s her name?”

The woman looked guilty. “I forgot to ask.”

He shook his head and turn back, forcing a smile. “My name’s Trip. What’s yours?”

Just maybe she uncurled a little. “Xera.”

“Well, Xera, are you hungry?”

She nodded and then pulled into herself again. “Mummy’s dead, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I’m afraid so, honey.”

“Are you going to kill me?”

“No.”

“Daddy says lots of evil people want to kill us. Are you evil?”

Tucker’s mouth pulled into a bitter line but he kept his voice gentle. “Not from where we stand, honey.”

“I want to go home.”

“So do we, Xera. So do we.”

~

Thanks to the intervention of Phlox and a sedative, Tucker finally managed to persuade the Xindi child out of Sato’s bathroom and then had the problem of what to do with her next. It was with bitter irony that he ended up taking her to his own cabin but he doubted that any other of the crew would tolerate her presence if the kind-hearted Sato had been unconsciously cruel. What would his mother think if she knew that he was tucking a member of the species who had murdered her daughter into his bed? He was fairly sure that he knew the answer, just as he knew what Lizzie would have thought: that her big brother was being imposed on as usual and needed to be told what was good for him.

Tucker slumped into a chair, resting his head in his hands. He was tired, so damn tired that he ached, but he didn’t want to sleep without meditating. That stopped the worst of the dreams as T’Pol had promised it would, but without her to guide him … He forced himself to breath deeply, controlling the urge to howl. She was gone too and he hadn’t even known that he was falling in love with her until she was dead – and even if it hadn’t been too late, she and Archer had already embarked on the relationship he hadn’t known he wanted. Oh, he’d suspected that something was going on between them for a year or more, but suspecting wasn’t the same as knowing. For one thing, it was a hell of a lot less painful. He really ought to find Archer and offer him company, sympathy, whatever the other man needed, just as the captain had selflessly done for him that first night, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t because he wouldn’t be able to stop himself asking if it was true that captain and first officer had been lovers. If he asked, he’d give himself away – and if Archer didn’t already know that his friend was jealous, the knowledge wouldn’t help his grief.

Knowing it would hurt but not able to resist, Tucker reached out for the holographic imager on his desk, flipping through the pictures. Childhood ones, two skinny blond children almost identical in the early days, teenage ones where Lizzie had grown into the pretty girl whom all the boys chased while her over-protective brother fended them off, adults ones from birthday parties and family holidays that he had mostly missed, then finally the ones from Enterprise. He stopped at the first, that image he’d snapped on almost their first away mission, where he’d seen Archer think about putting his arm around the stiffly Vulcan first officer and think better of it. He’d teased his captain about that in private afterwards and they’d laughed together but perhaps he should have known even then. She was Vulcan – of course she’d go for the stable, mature captain, not the engineer who screwed up first contacts and couldn’t even live with his own grief and guilt without help.

Tucker let the imager fall and dropped his head into his hands again, not trying to hold back the tears this time. It would get better and eventually he’d stop thinking of things to tell her, of questions he needed to ask, but until then her death had at least taught him that it was better to let the grief come when it needed to – and perhaps she’d forgive him the irony that it was a Vulcan who had shown him that.

A small, cold and rather hard hand tugged on one of his and Tucker raised his head to meet serious black eyes looking intently at him. “Is your mummy dead too?
”
“No.” He drew a deep breath, sniffing. “No, Xera, she’s not dead.”

“Then why are you crying?”

“A … friend of mine died.”

The girl had contrived to worm her way onto his lap and he realised with a renewed tightening of his throat that her father probably spoilt her rotten. “Did evil people kill her?”

He hugged her convulsively. “Yeah, that’s what happened.”

“Why do people kill each other?”

“I don’t know, honey. Maybe because … they don’t know what else to do,” and then he held the Xindi child while they both cried some more.

~

When she awoke for the second time, T’Pol found herself still in the future – or wherever it was that she had been brought. In retrospect, it had been remiss of her to entertain a belief in time travel, even for a short period. Distinctly annoyed with herself – it was, after all, some time since she had had the opportunity to meditate - she began to explore the chamber looking for a door, taken aback when Tolan appeared through an opening that simply appeared and then disappeared again once the Vulcan was inside. “Sub-Commander T’Pol.” His greeting was curt. “How are you?”

It was only then that she realised they had been speaking Vulcan, Daniels too. “I am … well.” In fact, she felt a good deal better than she had for a long time.

Tolan nodded calmly. “As you should. I detected a pernicious virus in your system and eliminated it.”

“The Pa’nar Syndrome?”

“I believe that was its name in antiquity.”

“There is no cure.”

“There has been a cure for over eight hundred years, T’Pol. Come,” he gestured to the wall through which he had entered, “we will eat.”

More shaken than she cared to admit, she approached the wall cautiously but it simply ceased to exist as she approached and she followed the other Vulcan down a long corridor to a large room set with a number of long tables, down the sides of which a number of other men and women, mostly Vulcan, were eating in polite silence. Daniels arose from the end of one table, smiling. “How are you feeling, sub-commander?”

“I wish to return to Enterprise.”

“We’ll return you shortly, but I have something to tell you first – and I know you must be hungry. What would you like?”

“You still serve as steward?”

He smiled, apparently un-offended. “I like to make sure our guests are comfortable. What will you have for breakfast?”

“I am not hungry.”

“Nonsense. Captain Archer always makes a good breakfast. Is chef still taking care with his scrambled eggs?”

She glared at him and he grinned annoyingly and moved towards a side wall while T’Pol inadvertently caught Tolan’s eye. He gave a very faint shrug. “I am afraid that Agent Daniels is regrettably prone to indulging in his human predisposition for levity.”

“He is annoying.”

“He is.”

Glad to have that point agreed, T’Pol looked a little more tolerantly on the bowl of soup Daniels placed in front of her and sipped cautiously. “I hope it’s to your liking.” Daniels was also eating the plomeek broth with apparent enjoyment. “Replicator technology was perfected centuries ago. Chef wouldn’t find a job in this time, I’m afraid.”

“The soup is adequate. Had you wished for a culinary critic, you should have abducted Commander Tucker.” Reluctantly, T’Pol’s eyes were straying around the low roofed, stone built room. “If you are trying to convince me that this is the 31st century, a little more … imagination … would be advisable.”

“I told you that we wanted you to feel comfortable, T’Pol. Later I’ll show you Earth, but you’re right, Vulcan hasn’t changed much over the centuries.” He grinned companionably at Tolan who ignored him, much as T’Pol often ignored Tucker’s more outrageous remarks. “Why should it? You have an old and honourable heritage, T’Pol. You should be proud of it – as I am.”

“You are Vulcan?”

Daniels shrugged depreciatingly. “A little.”

The meal finished, Daniels led T’Pol out of the building and across an open stretch of paving towards another, smiling as she lifted her face to Vulcan’s red sunlight. “You’ve not been home for a while, have you, T’Pol?”

“When do you propose to return me to Enterprise?”

“In a little while. First, we’re going to Earth.”

“That will take several weeks.”

“A few seconds.” He beamed at her disbelief and ushered her into a chamber she recognised from the holographic recording of her supposed arrival in the future. The Vulcan woman at the controls raised an eyebrow in polite enquiry. “San Francisco, Earth, this time period.”

Her disbelief firmly in place, T’Pol took her place beside Daniels and before she really had time to note what was occurring she was looking not at the small chamber on Vulcan but a disconcertingly large dome of some transparent material that imparted an iridescent shimmer to the clear air. “It’s a little showy,” Daniels remarked nonchalantly, “but then humans have always liked to show off their achievements. Come see.”

A little bemused, T’Pol followed him to an opening in the floor. It took a moment for her to interpret what she was seeing, then her brain sorted out the perspective and she took an instinctive step backwards as it became clear that she was viewing clouds beneath her feet and way below that the geometrical pattern of buildings.

“Come on.” Daniels was holding out a hand, clearly expecting her to step into the hole in the floor. Slowly, she gave him her hand – not because she was scared, of course, but because if he was planning to push her through she fully intended to take him with her. He stepped through with her, however, and they did not fall, just descended as smoothly as if they were in a lift although a great deal faster. “It’s totally impractical, of course. It would be far more efficient to transport to a ground station like the one we left, but this is quite a tourist attraction. Do you like it?”

“I … think not.” T’Pol had never suffered from vertigo or a fear of heights, but hurtling towards the ground with no visible means of support was … disconcerting.

“I do apologise. Look, there’s the Golden Gate Bridge. Heavily restored, of course, but still standing.”

T’Pol stopped looking.

~

Tucker had his head together with Mayweather when Archer came onto the bridge the next morning and if the engineer was relieved to see that his captain had at least made the effort to resume his normal duties, he wasn’t happy when, after the briefest of nods to the chorus of greetings, Archer headed for his ready room. “Cap’n.” Tucker dived to cut the other man off. “I need to talk to you.”
Archer seemed to sigh. “Then you’d better come in.”

“Better out here, cap’n.” Tucker’s suggestion delayed the captain’s hand reaching for the door release, but only temporarily. After a long-suffering look at his chief engineer, Archer keyed open the ready room door and stepped in, halting to glare at Xera as she looked up from the chair in which she was curled. One look at the man’s expression was all it took before she dropped the data recorder she had been studying and tumbled across the room to hide her face against Tucker’s stomach, arms around his waist.

“Perhaps you’d like to explain the meaning of this, Commander.”

Tucker winced at the ominous tone even as he kept a reassuring hand on the girl’s shoulder. “She didn’t want to be too far away from me, Cap’n.”

“She’s a Xindi! You gave her access to the bridge.”

“She’s a little kid, sir!”

“I’d have thought you’d be the last person to forget, Commander Tucker, what we’ve already lost to the Xindi. Now get her out of here!” The engineer hesitated on the verge of protest then left with the child, although he obviously took her no further than the bridge since he was back within a few seconds, to find Archer standing where he had left him, still angry. “I told you to get her off the ship.”

“You said to do what I thought was right.”

“And I thought I could trust your judgment!”

“You can!” Tucker moved closer, wondering if he was about to be relieved of his command duties again. “Cap’n, I know you loved T’Pol but you can’t let her death change the way you’ve always behaved.” He drew a quick breath, abruptly aware that he had gone a great deal too far and was about to go further still. They’d been friends a long time but he’d never dared to – never had to – call the older man on his conduct before. “I know how screwed up I was after Lizzie was murdered. I got away with it because you and T’Pol covered for me. Cap’n, Enterprise can’t afford for you to screw up. You have to get past it – quickly.”

Their eyes met for a long moment, Tucker’s silently pleading, Archer’s still angry, then the captain slowly took his seat. “What are you planning to do with the child?”

He didn’t sound quite his normal self but Tucker’s clenched muscles relaxed slightly. Maybe they could get through this. “I’ve fitted one of Enterprise’s escape pods with a comm. unit we salvaged from the Xindi ship. Travis is searching for a planet with a Xindi colony. We’ll put Xera in the pod and jettison it near the planet.”

“And wait to be sure someone comes for her?”

Tucker shrugged, expression rueful. “For preference, sir.”

There was a pause then Archer nodded. “Carry on, commander.” He acknowledged the dismissal, grateful for even that grudging support, and was halted at the door when the captain added quietly, “Trip.” He looked back as Archer hesitated then shook his head. “Another time.”

~

They landed outside a neck-achingly tall building into which Daniels guided T’Pol. She looked around suspiciously. “There are remarkably few people in this century.”

He was impossible to disconcert. “A lot of our agents are on assignment and few people live on Earth these days. Most just visit.”

“Why?”

“Well, don’t tell anyone,” his smile was conspiratorial, “but so much of it is a designated historical zone that most prefer to live where the rules are a bit more relaxed.”

“When are you going to return me to Enterprise?”

“Very soon now.”

They entered a chamber similar to the one they had left. “Could you not have returned me from Vulcan.”

“Of course, but I was hoping to convince you that this is really happening. You’re not convinced, are you?”

T’Pol moved away from him, running an enquiring hand over a wall. The material was slick and faintly warm; she had never encountered anything like it before. “No.”

“Did Dr Tolan tell you that he’d cured you of that nasty disease you picked up?”

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that convince you?”

“As yet, I have only your word that I have been cured.”

He sighed. “Then we’ll just have to hope that when Dr Phlox confirms you no longer have Pa’nar Syndrome, you’ll believe me. Now I need to tell you why we had to bring you here.”

“Please do.”

“Did Captain Archer explain how he came by his knowledge of where the Xindi were to be found?”

“Via the Suliban. From an individual who claimed to come from the future.”

“He does come from the future. Well, from your future. He’s from my past, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You know, sub-commander, I could become very tired of your scepticism.”

“My damned scepticism.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Please continue.”

“We’ve reason to believe that Captain Archer was grossly deceived by this individual.” One of T’Pol’s eyebrows rose. “Why are you in the Delphic Expanse, T’Pol?”

“Surely you should know.”

“We don’t have access to all the facts.”

“Captain Archer was told that the Xindi are building a weapon which will be used destroy Earth in retaliation for the destruction of the Xindi by humans four hundred years into our future. He believes that the Xindi must be stopped before Earth is attacked. We are searching for the Xindi and for their weapon.”

Daniels’ expression had become grim, making him look much less like Enterprise’s grossly cheerful steward. “That’s what we feared.” He shook his head in disgust. “Why did Archer believe anything fed to him via the Suliban?”

“I believe he was ‘clutching at straws’.”

“You spend a great deal of time with Commander Tucker, don’t you? It took me weeks to learn half the colloquialisms he uses.” T’Pol ignored the non sequitur and Daniels moved closer, expression earnest. “T’Pol, you must make Captain Archer understand that he cannot confront the Xindi directly.”

“Why not?”

“Because if he does, it will start the war that, four hundred years into your future, will result in the destruction of the Xindi by humans.”

T’Pol stared at the apparent human, feeling a headache beginning. “Why should I believe you?”

“Because you know I’ve been on your side before.”

“I have no guarantee that you are the man I knew as Daniels.”

“Captain Archer likes his scrambled eggs soft.”

“Is this fact relevant to our discussion?”

He smiled ruefully. “Well, it helped convince the captain to trust me. T’Pol, there’s nothing else I can say. I can only ask that you repeat what I’ve told you when you get back to Enterprise. Let Captain Archer judge.”

“You questioned his gullibility only a moment ago.”

“Perhaps that’s what we have to rely on. Please, T’Pol, just tell the captain what I’ve told you. He mustn’t start that war. It doesn’t make nice reading in the history books.”

“Is it part of your history?”

He grimaced. “Yes and no.”

“That is not an answer.”

“I know, but I can’t explain further. Will you tell him?”

“Is there a weapon?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Do you have any advice on how we should proceed?”

“I’m not allowed to advise.”

T’Pol sighed; Archer’s delusion had at least provided factual information. “Then if you have nothing further to say, I suggest that you return me to Enterprise.”

~

Archer was occupying the command chair when Tucker returned to the bridge after persuading Xera that she would be quite safe in the escape pod and wouldn’t have to stay there long. It hadn’t been an easy task but she had eventually stopped clinging to him and allowed him to strap her in. He’d kissed her forehead quickly and slipped a recorder into her hands. “See that someone gets that, honey.” She’d nodded and he’d stepped back and sealed her in, wondering if his action was as pointless as it seemed. No Xindi was likely to take notice of a message pointing out that it was people from Earth who had saved Xera, but … damn it, they needed to know that humans weren’t evil and he’d been struck by the fact that Xera hadn’t been afraid of him. Either the Xindi didn’t know what humans looked like or they hadn’t spent years frightening their children with pictures of evil personified. Maybe it was a start. More likely he was an idiot.

The captain looked up. “Ready, commander?”

“Yes, sir.” He was already at the engineering station, running a final check on the escape pod’s status.

“Then let it go.”

The pod pushed away from Enterprise on a pre-programmed course that would take it close to the fourth planet of the nearby solar system, where they had detected a Xindi mining colony, equipped with ships capable of short flights within the system. Hopefully, they would already have detected the sub-space beacon that was broadcasting a request for help.

Within a very few minutes, the crewman at the science station looked up. “There’s a vessel emerging from the atmosphere of the fourth planet, Captain.”

“Where’s it heading?”

“Straight for the escape pod, sir.”

Archer nodded acknowledgement and turned to face the engineering station. “Seen enough, commander?” Tucker nodded and the captain pushed himself up. “Take us to warp, Ensign Mayweather. Trip.”

Tucker followed Archer into the ready room, squaring up in front of the desk: time to face the consequences. “I owe you an apology, Commander.”

“Sir?”

“You were right.” Archer was wandering restlessly around the room. “I can’t afford to let personal feelings get in the way of duty.” He had paused by the view port. “Guilt no more than friendship.”

“You weren’t to blame.”

“We’ve already had that argument, commander. Let’s not waste time covering old ground.” He dropped into a chair, started to speak then frowned at the engineer. “Trip, why are you standing to attention?”

Tucker relaxed hastily. “Uh …”

“I’m not about to start reprimanding my first officer for telling his captain that he was out of order.”

“Glad to hear that, sir.”

“Then don’t forget it. Trip, why did you say that …”

“Captain,” Sato’s voice interrupted them, “I’ve Admiral Forrest for you, sir.”

Archer grimaced and leant forward to activate the view screen, shaking his head at Tucker’s silent offer to leave. “Put him through, Hoshi.”

“Jon,” Forrest again went straight to the point, “Starfleet have reviewed the reports you and Casey submitted.” He paused, shaking his head a little. “I can’t say it made pleasant reading.”

“What’s the verdict, admiral?”

“Enterprise is to return to Earth. I’m sorry, Jon, but we can’t justify keeping Enterprise in the Delphic Expanse any longer.”

Archer nodded, unsurprised, but Tucker intervened with annoyance. “Admiral, with respect, sir, that’s crap. Pulling us out’ll achieve nothing.”

“If that’s your idea of respect, Commander Tucker, you might want to think again.”

The admiral’s advice was ignored as the engineer continued forcefully, “Bringing us home will just mean that our people have died for nothing. Give us more time, admiral.”

“The decision’s been made, commander. You’re coming home.”

“What about the Klingons?” Both Archer and Forrest looked blankly at him. “They’ve turned pirate in here. Shouldn’t we clear up the situation we created when they followed us in?”

“Once they know Enterprise has left the Delphic Expanse, I’m sure they’ll follow you out again.” Forrest was unmoved. “One thing more, Jon.” Again he hesitated. “There’ll be a formal inquiry into your conduct once you get back. The Vulcans are pushing for it, but even if they hadn’t been …”

“I understand, Admiral.” If Archer was surprised or hurt by the news, his voice didn’t show it. “Is there anything else, sir?”

“No. I’ll see you in a few months. Starfleet out.”

The screen blanked and Tucker turned an angry look on Archer. “Cap’n, are we really gonna turn around?”

“You heard the admiral, Trip. I think he was quite explicit.”

“We aren’t finished here!”

“We are now.”

Their eyes met and held. “We could stay anyway.”

“You’re suggesting disobeying a direct order, Commander.”

“I’m talking doing what’s best for Earth.”

Archer rose and came round the table to take the younger man by the shoulders. “Not this time, Trip. We’re through here.”

“They’ll have your head.”

“Maybe I deserve to lose it.” He headed for the bridge, Tucker following unhappily but not knowing what else to say. “Ensign Mayweather, set a course for the nearest boundary of the Delphic Expanse and engage, warp 5.”

“Aye, sir.” The helmsman swivelled around. “Where are we going, Captain?”

“Earth.”

“Has something happened at home?”

“No.” He was about to expound on their changed orders when Sato gasped, almost a small scream and everyone whipped around to stare at the upper level of the bridge by the lift doors where a woman stood, brown eyes coolly surveying them.

“T’Pol?” Archer heard Tucker whisper behind him then the engineer pushed past and leapt up the steps, snatching the Vulcan into his arms and hugging her tightly. It couldn’t be said, the captain thought with a kind of stunned objectivity, that T’Pol returned the embrace, but the hands that disengaged Tucker’s arms from around her were gentle and she gripped his hands for a moment as their eyes met, then Tucker pulled free and turned his back and she looked at her captain instead.

“T’Pol.” Archer walked slowly across, reaching out to touch her shoulders lightly, feeling the warm flesh and slender bones that seemed to prove she really was there. “T’Pol, I’m sorry.”

There was no condemnation in her eyes, just calm acceptance of the apology and a certain warmth that had gradually grown over the past two and a half years. “Captain. I have a good deal to report.”

~

It was the first time the three of them had met for an evening meal in quite a while and certainly a long time since they had had anything to celebrate so Archer was determined to make the most of the opportunity, even if Tucker was rather quieter than he would have expected. It wasn’t until T’Pol contrasted chef’s plomeek broth favourably with that served in the 31st century that the engineer seemed to shake off his introspection. “What’s the Vulcan Science Directorate gonna say to that, Sub-commander?”

She regarded his teasing look tolerantly. “I am sure they will maintain their position that time travel is impossible.”

“Even with your evidence.”

“I have no evidence.”

“But you could spin them a good tale.”

“You are implying that I imagined the events I described?”

“Well,” he shook his head doubtfully, “something that no one else experienced … I really gotta doubt your sanity, Sub-commander.”

“Thank you.”

Archer took the easy option and stayed out of it, although he was smiling as he reached across to re-fill the others’ wine glasses, ignoring T’Pol half-hearted protest. “Trip made a good first officer, T’Pol.”

She managed to look doubtful and Tucker grinned at her. “I guess you’re gonna supplant me again.”

“I see no reason why I should. I am no longer a member of the Vulcan High Command. The fact that you all continue to use my former rank is nothing more than a polite fiction. The position should be yours.”

Tucker had stopped smiling while she spoke although his mouth curved into a faintly malicious grin as he shook his head. “I’m not gonna make it that easy for you. You keep the job, T’Pol. I’ll stick with being chief engineer.”

“If you wish.”

“If you’ve finished arranging my command structure for me?” Archer held out his glass, smiling warmly at his senior officers. “A toast: absent friends – and present ones.”

They echoed him and drank, although afterwards Archer wondered if it had been insensitive of him. He’d not meant to bring that bitter twist to Trip’s mouth.

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!! Time Travel Gives ME A HUGE HEADACHE!!!!!

Oh Trip! Phlox you idiot! Oh Trip! Jon, tell him now! Trip you should realize the truth come on... she hugged you back!

I love time travel stories - although they give me a headache, too. "U-turn" was a really good chapter.
I'm assuming that Archer was about to ask Trip what he meant when he was talking about being in love with T'pol and then was cut off by the admiral's call. I hope he's gonna deny it; they're just friends right? The events in Night in Sickbay were just a figment of Phlox's imagination, right? I'm looking forward to the next chapter in this series.

Hooray, T'Pol is back! Hooray, Trip is healing and back on his game! Hooray for another chapter in this great story. I thought that was so typical of Trip helping the Xindi girl despite all the hate he had been fostering against her people about the pre-emptive attack on Earth. What I found *really* interesting about that was that Xera did not recognise or react to the human species as if humans were unknown to them. Struck no fear in them. Not the response you would expect from a race brought up to believe Humans would destroy them. Had they perhaps got mixed up and were blaming the Humans for something the Klingons had done? Whatever, I am loving this story and can't wait to see where you take it next. Thank you so much, Ali D :~)

Another great read thanks for such a great series stories.I like the time travel twist and having T'Pol brought to to the 31st century a neat idea.I liked Trip and Xera also.LOOKING FORWARS TO MORE OF YOUR STORIES.

LOVE IT!

T'POL'S ALIVE!!!!!!! HA HA HA!!!!!!!

I agree, Phlox you idiot! How could you? Yes, I think Archer was about to ask Trip about the whole "I know you loved her" thing. But he didn't! Therefore, more delisous meat for another delightful story!

Can't wait to see how they explain T'Pol's reappearance to the Vulcan High Command that doesn't believe in time travel. Unlike a few of you, I love time travel. It's an endless little paradox that I can use to get to sleep at night, or just amuse myself any old time with.

Great job.
::sits back and impatiently waits for the next amazing story in the series::

WOW! Fabulous! I just came into this story at this chapter and I love it! I love how Trip and Archer mourn, how T'Pol is cured of Pan'ar (that was genius!), and how she reappeared. fabulous work, and I love that Trip beat Archer to hugging her. this is sure to tip her off to something, damnit! Now I'm off to read the next part.

This story is getting better and better!

“Captain Archer will be fine for a few hours without you to look after him.”

She glared even as the doctor settled her back. “I do not doubt the captain’s ability to conduct himself in a professional manner.”

“And I’m sure he’ll prevent Commander Tucker from doing something stupid.”

“I doubt that.”

Tee hee.

And T'pol is alive. It's all good. :-)