Chapter 18

Title:  Mistakes
Author:  Auroraborealis
Rating:  This chapter is PG I'm not positive what the other chapters are going to be like.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the star trek characters or anything.
Summary: AU.  What if Hoshi had a hand in what happened with Terra Prime?  How would it affect her and her relationships with people on the ship?
Spoilers: Terra Prime, Marauders, Affliction, Divergence

A/N- Thank you so much to my beta, Dinah. I'm sorry this chapter took so incredibly long.  I had the most massive episode of writers block ever until a couple of days ago.  After this is the last chapter... and then of course the sequel which I'm super excited about. Thank you so much for your patience.

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Chapter 18

=/\=

Trip didn't want to be angry.  T'Pol was leaving and there was nothing he could do to change that.  He should have been spending what time they had left together with her. Instead he was here, wandering around the settler's planet with Q'ell.  Trip didn't mind making sure the miners were getting accustomed to their new home.  It was enough of a distraction that Trip could go for a moment or two without thinking of T'Pol.  The ship had started to feel a little too small for Trip's taste; even working with the engines hadn't given Trip the same satisfaction today as it generally did.  Trip was glad that Q'ell had called him down. 

Q'ell had spent the last three hours showing Trip the compound, giddily explaining each station even though there was a list of problems following each explanation.  The closer they came to the end of their 'tour' the more concerned Trip became.   They didn't have enough supplies, at least ten people were sick, the machines weren't made for this climate... the list went on.  Q'ell seemed to regard these as small problems; to him anything was better than where they had been.
 
"... It's a little colder than we're used to," Q'ell babbled on, "but I think everyone's getting acclimated."  He hadn't stopped grinning since Trip had come down.

 Trip nodded solemnly.  "Q'ell where's the closest water source?" 

Q'ell shrugged.  "About 9 dij to the east." 

Trip did the math in his head, it was about 5 klicks.  "That's pretty far..." 

"We go in the mornings and collect water; so far we haven't had too many problems." 

Trip stopped walking and Q'ell stopped with him. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Q'ell we moved you out here so your lives would be better..."

"They are! We will never have to worry about the Klingons again."  Q'ell put his hand to Trip's chest, a gesture of trust Trip had become accustomed to since spending time with the settlers, "We are so grateful for everything your crew has done for us." 

Trip returned the gesture then started walking again. "We can do more.  How many times have your jiv'oc regulators jammed since you've been down here?"  Q'ell stopped smiling. "You and I both know that those are made to work in warmer temperatures.  The fluid gets too thick here." 

"We can re-fit them..." 

"With what?  And what about last week?  You had to send four people up to see Phlox. Their problems were all related to that cow pond you've been drinking out of..." 

"What's a cow pond?" 

Trip shook his head. "It doesn't matter. The point is that I'm not going to let Captain Archer move the ship anywhere until I'm satisfied you all are going to be alright without us, and right now I'm not all that confident." 

"We're fine," Q'ell argued stubbornly. 

"Q'ell why did you choose this place?" 

"It has the largest deposit of deuterium on the planet."

"I know. We scanned the planet when we got here, but there are other locations that would be much nicer places to live and still have pretty substantial deposits." 

Q'ell didn't answer; instead he looked at the ground. Trip knew that one day Q'ell would be the leader of this community but sometimes he could still catch glimpses of the little boy he had met 4 years ago.  "What is it Q'ell?" 

They stopped walking again, this time because of Q'ell.  "You know that I trust you very much, Trip.  And so do many others here." Trip nodded but let him continue. "But some do not.  There are many people who fear that you will abandon us here like our people did or worse..." 

"They're afraid we're going to turn around and pull the same thing as the Klingons." 

"Yeah." 

"But you have a big enough supply; you can take care of yourselves." 

"Yeah."

"That's not going to happen. I can get the Captain to talk to whoever needs convincing, but I can guarantee you nothing like that is going to happen." 

"I know that, but we've had to be distrustful for a very long time." 

"Well, we're allies now; they'll have to trust us sometime.  I'll talk to the Captain about getting things improved down here.  You need to talk to Tessic about convincing the non-believers to trust us a little more." 

Q'ell nodded then smiled again. "How long would these improvements take?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Well if you stay out here long enough, maybe you can finish showing me how the warp engine works." 

Trip laughed. "Q'ell, I don't think there's much of anything else I could show you.  If you were in Starfleet, you'd be the youngest warp engineer on the planet." 

"I thought you were." 

"I didn't know nearly as much as you do at your age." 

"Well I had an advantage.  It doesn't really matter, though.  It's not like there are any warp engines down here."  Even though he was joking, Trip could hear a hint of disappointment in Q'ell's voice. 

"Well if I can talk the Cap'n into staying a little longer, I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to show you anything you want to know."  Trip checked the time and started walking back towards the direction of the shuttlepod.  "I have to get back up to the ship, but I'll get some more thermal wear sent down.  You still have the comm I gave you?" 

Q'ell pulled it out of his pocket. "Yep." 

"Good, if you need anything before I come back down, just ask.  I'll see what I can do."  Q'ell nodded and the two said their goodbyes before Trip went off at an easy jog toward the shuttle. 

As soon as he landed back in the shuttle bay, the claustrophobia returned.  It may have been cold and dank on the planet, but at least he could almost pretend that his biggest problem was jiv'oc regulators jamming.  At least the problems of Q'ell and his people were something that Trip could fix, or at least try to fix. Maybe he could move down to the planet and become a miner. Trip scrubbed a hand through is hair then let his head rest on the darkened control board. 

Or maybe he would just stay in the shuttlepod until T'Pol came back from Vulcan. 

Even though it had been early in the morning on the planet, it was late afternoon on the ship.  Trip still hadn't finished half of the things he needed to do today, and the Columbia was scheduled to be here in a few hours.  They would need the shuttlepod, so hiding out here actually wasn't really an option.  Trip reluctantly got up and gathered his things from the shuttle.  He could find something in engineering to distract himself, and if not, he had a mining facility to save.

=/\=

Archer entered the shuttle bay with a feeling of anticipation.  Although it should have been the furthest thing from his mind in the situation, it had been some time since he had seen Erica.  He would have been lying to himself if he had said that her visit didn't bring him some measure of happiness.  Of course he sincerely wished that she was here under entirely different circumstances.  In reality she was here for two things:  to provide transport for a man Archer had come to respect and trust over the course of the five years that he had known him and to prove that another member of his crew had attempted to murder two senior officers.  If Erica had been anyone else, Archer would have wished her to leave as soon as she arrived. 

As the tall, older woman stepped from the craft, the first thing Archer noticed was that Erica's hair was shorter than it had been the last time he saw her.  With her wearing it down it hit right at her shoulders.  She stepped over and warmly shook Archer's hand, smiling gently. Archer returned the smile, but less convincingly.

"I hope that your trip was alright," he mentioned casually.  His eyes followed the second form to emerge from the shuttle, a shorter, red-headed woman with an air of rigidity that matched Malcolm's own.  "I just wish that you were coming under better circumstances."  Archer felt his eyebrows pull together and the smile fade from his face.

Erica nodded, the gentle smile falling from her as well.  "So do I.  I'm so sorry about everything that's happened, Jon."  She turned to her redheaded companion, who was standing stiffly behind her.  "I'm not sure if you've met before, but this is Lieutenant Clemins." 

Archer shook his head, "No, I haven't had the pleasure."  He reached out again to shake her hand; the woman's grasp was much stronger than he expected.  It was almost a silent challenge.  Or perhaps, more likely, an unconscious reassurance of her competence.  Archer smiled at the woman; it would be interesting to get to know someone Malcolm thought so highly of.

"Thank you for having me aboard, sir.  I've read almost everything about your ship:  your first contact experiences; the new technology you've acquired over the years; even your experiences in the Delphic Expanse... what of it isn't classified." The woman's obvious enchantment with the Enterprise amused Archer and the moment of giddiness was an indicator of her true age.  Clemins seemed to catch herself.  Her face reset to a hard professional mask as she cleared her throat.  "With your permission, sir, I'd like to get straight to work on my assignment." 

"I'm sure Lieutenant Reed feels the same way." Archer motioned to an ensign standing at the door of the bay. "Ensign Skousen can show you where the Armory Bay is, along with whatever else you'll need to find." 

Clemins nodded her head, her tight short ponytail staying as stiff as her posture. "Thank you, sir."  Archer nodded as she walked away, her steps short and quick, until she left the bay completely, finally leaving Archer alone with Erica.

"Well, Jon, to say it's been a while would be a bit of an understatement."  There was no accusation in her voice; they both knew the strains and demands of their jobs...but maybe someday...  Erica went back to the shuttle and pulled out a bottle.  "Care for a drink."

 "You have no idea." Archer couldn't help but smile. "I have a few things to finish up, but I would love for you to join me for dinner tonight, Captain's mess." 

"And I wouldn't expect anything less.  Will you be done by 2000?" 

Archer glanced at the chronometer on the wall.  An hour and a half should be enough time, he thought.  He nodded.

"Great then, I'll bring this along."  

Archer loved the ease and fluidity of their relationship. It seemed that no matter how much time had passed, they always started back up where they left off.  "Do you need anything before I go back to the bridge?"

"Actually, I have a couple things I need to finish up too.  But I can look over these PADDs while I'm here. Just remind me where your mess hall is." 

"Same place as yours, except one deck up." 

"Of course." Erica handed him the bottle then reached to grab something else out of the shuttle -  three PADDs.  She walked back to Jon and smiled again, this time there was nothing professional about the gesture.  She let her hand touch his shoulder reassuringly. "It really is good to see you, Jon." 

Archer took the hand and squeezed it.  "It is.  I'll see you tonight, Erica.  Comm me if you need anything else."

She nodded then left the bay.  As soon as she was gone, Archer realized that for the first time in over a week, if only for a moment, he hadn't thought about Terra Prime.  It had only been a moment, but it was a start, and it was enough.

=/\=

When Malcolm had set out to pack the last of his belongings from his office, he hadn't imagined that it would take so much time.  It wasn't really that there was a great deal for him to pack, just that almost everything in the room reminded him of something.  A small piece of the comet Travis and he had been briefly stranded on four years ago, the empty bottle of bourbon Trip and he had shared when they had thought they were going to die on the shuttle in the middle of space. 

Each item that passed through his hands he lingered on for a moment longer than the last. 

The knight from a chess match with Major Hayes, he had always insisted that that the knight was the most tactically important piece in the game.  Eventually Malcolm came to believe him as Malcolm himself hardly ever won.  The first time he did Hayes had given him the knight from his side, telling him he'd won it fair and square. 

There was a box of alien tea Trip had bought for him off world somewhere in the Expanse when the ships supply had diminished.  Malcolm smiled, it was the most awful thing he had ever had to drink, but it was the generosity of the thought that was important. 

The smile slipped from his face as Malcolm saw the last item in the bottom of his desk drawer.  It was a small token Hoshi had given him.  She had purchased it on a planet where they still believed heavily in superstition.  The woman she bought it from told her it was endowed with a great deal of luck.  When she had given it to him Hoshi had told him to start taking it with him when he went on away missions, "to keep you safe." 

Malcolm's thoughts were broken as he heard the chime to his office sound.  "Come in."

 The door opened to reveal Lieutenant Clemins standing at ease. 

"Lieutenant Clemins, I appreciate you being able to come on short notice.  I'll be sure to thank your captain as well."  Malcolm dropped the token back into his desk, closing the drawer.  He sat down and then indicated that she do the same in the chair across from him. 

She nodded and sat down, "It wasn't a problem, sir." 

Malcolm nodded back at her. "I'm sure you've been briefed on the situation." 

"Yes, sir, you're undergoing an investigation regarding the attempted murder of Commander's Trip and T'Pol.  Your prime and only suspect for the time being is Ensign Hoshi Sato.  I've been ordered to take over the investigation and finalize your findings while at the same time keep an open mind to other possibilities that you or your team may have missed." 

Malcolm couldn't help but give a small tight smile.  "I have to say, Janet, you are as meticulous as ever.  It's good to see you again." 

The woman smiled back. "Thanks, Reed.  I agree.  I have to ask though, why aren't you heading this investigation?  It's your ship and you're still the best man for the job, although I have to admit I'm catching up."  She smiled back.  Although she could be as stiff as Malcolm when it was called for, she had a naturally looser personality.  Her smile came with ease rather than looking like harsh imitation, as Malcolm's so often did. 

"It's because this is my ship that I'm calling in an outside person.  I'm too close to it, and I'm afraid it's affecting my judgment on the issue." 

She nodded.  "I understand.  So where do you want me to start?" 

"Well, this is what we have so far." Malcolm handed her a PADD. "You'll have the cooperation of my staff.  If you run into any problems, just contact me or the captain, and we'll get you what you need." 

Clemins stood up and took the PADD from him.  "Okay, I'll get started as soon as I leave.  Who's your second? 

"Marks.  He should get you up to speed on all the little details in no time.  There's one more thing I want to talk to you about, though."  Malcolm stood up from his chair, taking the bag he had put his belongings in, and zipped it closed.  "I'm sure you know I'm transferring off the ship." 

Janet's brows pinched slightly, but she nodded her head. 

"That means that my position on this ship needs to be filled.  Now I know that you already have a position aboard the Columbia but I really won't feel confident leaving until I know there's someone I can trust taking my place.  You're first on my list." 

Clemins blushed lightly. "Thank you, sir. I would be honored." 

"I was hoping that would be your reaction.  I've already cleared it with Captains Hernandez and Archer; they both are in favor of the decision." 

Janet smiled, this time more brilliantly embodying her warmth.  "I won't let you down, Reed." 

"That's why I picked you." Malcolm moved towards the door. "I need to finish packing up my quarters and make some arrangements.  You know how to find me." 

Clemins followed him out the door. "Yes, sir. 

Malcolm watched as she walked quickly off in the opposite direction, most probably to find Marks.  Yes, Malcolm thought, she was the right choice.

=/\=

Trip had been sitting in engineering for the past four hours tinkering with something that generally wouldn't have taken him more than one.  His mind kept wandering and the parts he held in his hands felt foreign.  The scattered mess around him seemed to be a perfect representation of his mood.  Trip heard the door open and he looked up as Hess walked into the bay. 

"Hey, Chief, what are you doin' in here so late?" She smiled as her long brown ponytail swayed back in forth.  She was wearing her off-duty clothes, which for Hess were just her old jumpsuits.  Trip had asked her about it once, she had answered that it was so that she could jump onto whatever needed to be done if a problem cropped up.  "I always do my best work in uniform," she had said.  The only difference was when she was off duty she wore the top down and tied around her waist. 

Today she was wearing a purple t-shirt for some coffee house in Sacramento under her uniform.  Where she had gotten the shirt Trip couldn't guess since she had never lived in Sacramento, or even visited as far as he knew.  Trip squeezed his eyes shut.  It didn't matter why she had a shirt from Sacramento.  He needed to finish this conduit... like two hours ago.  He glanced at the clock.

"I could ask you the same thing, Anna.  Isn't it past your bedtime?" 

She laughed; Trip could tell it was genuine and couldn't help but smile back.  He lifted up the power board he was working on.  Hess looked at it, then frowned, puzzled. "Isn't that what you were working on when I got off?"

Trip set it down and rubbed his hands over his face; he laughed as he realized how ridiculous it must have seemed to her.  "Yep, same thing."

Hess laughed with him. "Geez, Trip, I could have finished that in an hour.  Are you okay?" 

"Yeah... no I'm fine."  Trip sighed again then collected all of his tools and set the mess aside in an organized little pile under the engine.  "I think I'll come back to this tomorrow." 

"That's probably best.  But really... I heard about T'Pol leaving..."

Trip stood up so fast he knocked his elbow against the guard rail.  "How..?"

Hess shrugged. "Small ship, Chief."

Trip nodded in agreement. "Yeah, don't worry about it." Trip smiled gently and rubbed his elbow. "I just need to get some sleep." 

"Okay," Hess conceded gently and turned to leave. "Good idea, sir. Everything's better after a good night's rest." 

"Are you forgetting something?"

Hess looked puzzled as when she turned back around.  "Sir?"

"Well what are you doing in here so late?"

Realization seemed to hit her. "Oh, I forgot some paper work.  You know me..."

"Well you're about to forget it again," Trip said as he wiped grease from his hands, motioning to her empty ones.

Hess looked torn between leaving and going to her station. "Or Sanders told me he saw you in here staring at a power coupling," she confessed.  "I thought I'd come check on you."  She shrugged. "You caught me." 

Trip shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder why you're still here, Hess.  You know you deserve your own set of engines."

"If I left, how would you get anything done?"  Hess smiled. 

"You're absolutely right." Trip smiled back. "I'll see you tomorrow, Anna."

She nodded then turned and left.

Trip realized he felt lighter; the anger he had felt was gone now and the only thing left was the yearning.  Trip couldn't think of anything he wanted more than for T'Pol to stay.  He flinched slightly as the humming in his mind briefly spiked to a rapid whirring then spooled back down.  It had been like this since T'Pol and he had been attacked, and even though it had gotten harder to tell their feelings apart, Trip was convinced that the humming was something T'Pol was trying to conceal from him.

It was time they had a conversation.  A real one.  Trip knew there were regulations she had to follow, he knew that their relationship attracted unwanted attention, but ignoring their relationship didn't make it any safer.  There was something more.  Something T'Pol wasn't telling him.  He could feel it, and he knew...

He was standing in front of a door that he recognized to be T'Pol's. Trip couldn't help but marvel at times at the unconscious mind.  This was exactly where he needed to be. Not only would it be foolish, but it would be childish to let her leave under the present circumstances.  The last thing he wanted was for their last moments together for the next six months to be of them quarrelling.  Trip took a breath and stepped inside.

He had expected to find her packing, instead what he saw when he walked in was her meditating.  It was unusual to find her meditating this late at night, and from the rigidness of her shoulders and the tightness in her eyes, Trip figured she wasn't having a very easy time of it. 

"T'Pol...," Trip called softly in an attempt to get her attention as gently as possible.  T'Pol took a deeper breath than the usual soft breaths she used when meditating, but didn't acknowledge Trip's presence.  "T'Pol... please, can we talk." 

"I am meditating," she answered curtly, not even bothering to open her eyes. 

"No, T'Pol... you don't get to be the one who's mad here." As soon as the frustration surfaced, Trip pushed it back down.  It wouldn't help him achieve what he wanted.  Trip couldn't help but smile a bit.  T'Pol had definitely rubbed off on him over the years.  And he, her.  Trip could see it in small things:  her now refined sense of humor, her increased flexibility to situations, but most obvious, a newfound warmth that seemed to radiate from behind her Vulcan mannerisms.  The blending of the two cultures seemed to suit her very well, but rare occasions still arose when Trip wished that she would act a bit more Vulcan - for instance, now. 

She took another deep breath then opened her eyes; her rigid sitting position slumped almost simultaneously.  "You are right. Please sit down." 

Trip took off his shoes and sat down on a small blue pillow in front of her.  Half-melted candles of all different colors and sizes surrounded them, and the scent of some Vulcan spice that always reminded Trip of patchouli filled the air.  Trip relaxed into the familiar surroundings.  T'Pol let her fingers brush across his hand, a light, tenuous touch, almost as if T'Pol was uncertain about whether Trip wanted to feel her or not.  Trip took her hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly.  "I want to talk about this.  I don't want you to leave." 

T'Pol's gaze moved back to her lap.  "I believe we already discussed this." 

"Well I didn't really like the outcome of that conversation."  T'Pol stayed silent, and the longer she was quiet the more frustrated Trip felt.  Trip's fingers found the band around T'Pol's ring finger almost to reassure himself that it was still there.  "You want us to get married, don't you T'Pol?" 

There was no hesitation. "Yes, of course I do." 

"And you want to stay here with me?" 

Again, no hesitation as she nodded her head. "Yes," she replied more softly. "Yes, I want to stay with you here on Enterprise." 

"Then please explain the problem to me, because I can't figure it out."  At this T'Pol was silent.  Trip looked into her eyes and tried to see what she was thinking, but it seemed out of reach.  The nervous buzzing he had felt in the back of his mind for the past week crescendoed to a distracting hum.  The sensation put him on edge.  Finally he shook his head. "I don't understand.  I've said everything I can think of."  He moved to get up. "I love you, and I'll keep on loving you regardless of your decision... but I don't want this."   

"Wait."  T'Pol's hand suddenly grasped Trip's wrist, preventing him from leaving.  When Trip met her eye's there was something like fear deep within them.  "Please, this isn't as simple as you may think," T'Pol soothed, but there was a hint of desperation in her voice. 

"If we tie the knot, then you can stay; if we don't, then you have to leave.  What could be simpler than that?" 

T'Pol's body tensed. "I'm not doing this for the reasons you believe." 

"Well then explain it," Trip demanded harshly. "All I need, T'Pol, is an explanation.  I just need to know that you aren't using this as an excuse to run again. I need to know that you won't leave every time things are hard between us.  Explain it to me! Let me understand why you're doing this."

"I CAN'T!" she snapped. 

Trip immediately felt his anger fall away, quickly being replaced with concern.  "T'Pol..."  Trip could feel her fingers tremble against his hand.  He grasped her hand tighter, pulling her towards him.  T'Pol abandoned her seated position on the pillow and rolled on to her knees in front of him.  "T'Pol, I need to know what's going on."  He felt like he was just noticing how exhausted she looked.  It was obvious that this hadn't been the only time she had been having difficulty meditating in the past week.  Either she had been doing a very good job of hiding it, or Trip hadn't been paying very close attention. 

T'Pol reached up and caressed his face, but it wasn't a simple touch.  There was a need behind it that Trip could feel radiating through her skin.  T'Pol spread her fingers to reach the specific points on his face.  "Please..." 

Trip took her other hand and pressed it to the other side of his face. "You don't have to ask."  He nodded and put his hand against T'Pol's soft skin, his thumb gently caressing her lips before mirroring her position. 

"My mind to your mind," she began. "My thoughts to your thoughts, our minds are merging, our minds are...

"...ONE. "

T'Pol was standing across from him in the familiar white space. But there was something off.  Phantom images flitted throughout the space.  Like a flickering lights or a broken movie, the images were so brief that Trip wasn't sure he saw anything. 

"What is this?  What's wrong?"  

Trip felt the humming in his head build and recede like the crest and fall of waves. 

"I... I don't know what to do." Tears slipped down T'Pol's face.  "I cannot separate myself from these feelings."

Trip was taken aback by the raw emotion he felt rolling off of her, the humming in his mind getting stronger.  Of course he had seen T'Pol emote before - she had never been like the other Vulcan's he had met, especially after the Expanse - but he had never seen her in any condition even remotely resembling this.  He pulled her close against his chest.  "T'Pol I don't understand.  What is this?"

What do you remember about the night we were attacked?

 The white space spun around him into nothing.  He felt like he was in his quarters, but it didn't seem quite right.  It was too quiet. And so dark. It almost felt like right before he would... sleep.  He felt someone lie down next to him, but it was too heavy to be T'Pol. A wave of panic rose up inside of him, but it wasn't his own. 

Trip suddenly realized what this was.  You remember this? 

Vulcan's have partial consciousness when they sleep.  

He could feel himself putting his arm around her waist. 

"Don't close your eyes..."  He could feel her pleading in her mind. 

You knew what was happening? 

I couldn't reach you. 

He felt as the arm went limp against her.  "Wake up!"  He felt the breathing against him gradually recede into shallow breaths.  "Wake up please...Trip!"  And then the breaths stopped all together.  "No... NO!"  He felt T'Pol fight against her unresponsive body, begging it to move even as the space around her began to feel fuzzy. 

I could feel you dying, T'Pol cried, there was nothing I could do. 

The sensation blinked out completely and was abruptly replaced with the bright lights of the corridor outside his quarters.  A wave of jumbled voices assaulted his ears.  As soon as her vision cleared, Trip could see himself gasping and coughing as Phlox offered him an oxygen mask.  It was eerie to see his own face melt with relief.  This was a moment he had remembered.  The utter fear that he had lost T'Pol, then the elation he felt when she had regained consciousness. 

He felt T'Pol's hands shake, and he realized that what he had thought was a natural reaction to a lack of oxygen then, was actually a mixture of the most intense fear and anger he had ever experienced.  The feeling almost made it hard to breath. 

T'Pol...

And the feeling only grew. 

T'Pol. Stop. 

As quickly as everything had changed, the white space came back and Trip found himself on his knees panting for breath.  He now recognized the shadows flitting around the space as scenes from the ordeal:  the wall of the corridor as soon as T'Pol opened her eyes, Trip holding an oxygen mask to his face. 

"Why didn't you say anything?" 

"My feelings have always been stronger than other Vulcans... difficult to control.  If I indulged these feelings outside of this space they would consume me." 

"You could have brought me here..." 

T'Pol looked away. "I was ashamed... I didn't believe it was something you could understand."

Trip took her shoulders. "T'Pol... T'Pol look at me."  She finally met his gaze. "There is nothing here that you should feel ashamed of.  After what happened, fear is a normal response." 

"A normal human response," T'Pol corrected firmly. "But there is no logic for these feelings.  I cannot separate myself from them."  She clutched the arm of his uniform.  "I cannot... lose you. Especially not because of what I am.  I can't."  T'Pol's eyes softened, pleading with him.  "If we marry, they will come after us.  They will attack you because of me." 

"That might not be true." 

"You cannot know that for a fact.  If I stay I could lose you.  But if I leave... I don't know that you will still want me."  Tears streamed down her face.  "I don't know what to do." 

Trip untangled her hand from his uniform, interlocking his fingers with hers.  "I'll always want you, T'Pol.  Vulcans mate for life right?" 

"You are not Vulcan." 

"But I am your mate." 

T'Pol nodded her head. 

"Go to Vulcan, T'Pol.  I'll be here when you get back and we'll figure something out.  But I'm not going to run forever."

"And I wouldn't ask you to." 

They both pulled out of the white space and found themselves wrapped in each other's arms on the floor.  Trip reached around and wiped a single tear from T'Pol's face.  "Everything will work out." 

T'Pol took his face in her hands and kissed him. "Thank you, ashelveh."  Trip moved to get up, but T'Pol pulled him back to her.  "Stay with me tonight."

Trip smiled.  "Of course I will."  He gently picked her up and carried her to the bed then sat down and pulled off his boots and took off his jumpsuit.  He lay down in front of her and pulled her to his chest.  "I'll miss you." 

"I too will yearn for you."  She buried her face in his hair. "I will miss your scent." 

Trip kissed her neck gently.  "I'll miss the way you taste." 

T'Pol pulled his face close to hers.  "I will miss the color of your eyes; there are so few Vulcans who have eyes as fair as yours." 

"I'll miss all of you..."  Trip smiled and kissed her again, this time on her lips. "Every inch of you."  His hand roamed up the back of her shirt, caressing the warm soft skin of her back.  He pulled her so close it was impossible for their bodies not to touch. 

T'Pol rolled over on top of him and pulled his blue undershirt off.  Her fingers gently caressed his chest and she kissed him. "I love you, Trip."

The directness of the statement made it more effective than anything Trip could think of.  "I love you too.  I've never loved anyone like I love you." T'Pol unbuttoned the silk pajama top she was wearing and slipped it off.  She settled on top of Trip's bare chest and he held her close, enjoying the warmth between their two bodies.  Trip could feel her heartbeat against his and after a time it seemed they were in sync.  Trip closed his eyes and let the moment be, saddened by the knowledge that it would be one of the last in a while, but content to have it all the same.

=/\=

Obviously she needed to get all of the evidence to review for herself, but when Janet went to interview Hoshi Sato, she would have been lying if she had said that was the only reason she went to see her.  In reality, there was a bit of unprofessional curiosity. 

Malcolm had obviously had some sort of relationship with this woman; Janet wanted to see what she was like.  When she got to the cell though, Ensign Sato wasn't anything like she had expected.  She wasn't anything like... me.  Janet quickly disregarded the thought and went on with the more professional reason for her presence. 

"Hello, I'm Lieutenant Clemins.  I've taken over the investigation against you.  Can I ask you some questions?" 

The woman looked confused to her. "Where's Malcolm?" she asked softly. 

Janet could feel the corners of her mouth turn downward.  "I have taken over the investigation," she reiterated a bit forcefully. 

Hoshi nodded so Janet went on. 

"So far I haven't been able to see any tampering with the data codes in your communications system.  Does anyone else have access to those?"  Hoshi shook her head, her loose hair hitting her shoulders. 

It was all Janet could do not to flinch at Hoshi's disheveled appearance.  It had always been like that for her; things had to be neat, orderly, ever since she was a young girl.  It made her good at her job of course, but it made some things grate on her nerves more than they should.  She pulled a hair tie from her pocket and handed it to the woman.  Ensign Sato gave her a strange look but thanked her and pulled her hair back into a tight ponytail.  Janet relaxed a bit, it looked much neater now. 

"Is there anyone you could think of specifically who would want to make it seem like this is your crime?"  Hoshi shook her head again.  Janet had to admire her honesty, at least the woman held onto some values.  Really that was all the information she needed, but there was one other thing that was bothering her.  "Why did you do it?"

Hoshi looked shocked that she would be so direct.  Janet rephrased her question. 

"I mean join Terra Prime in the first place." 

Hoshi looked at her thoughtfully.  Behind the mask of pain the woman wore Janet could see strength in her.  Janet knew there was something to respect in this woman, she was sure that this had been what Malcolm had seen.  "That's not something you could understand." 

"Because I'm not you?" 

She shook her head once more, "Because you didn't spend a year in the Expanse." 

Janet nodded her head.  She could see the logic in that and was satisfied with the answer.  "Alright, if I have any more questions I'll come back to see you." 

Hoshi pulled the tie out of her hair and handed it back to her. 

"No, you keep it," Janet replied as she left the cell.  Really there weren't very many other things to go through.  This was an open and shut case if she ever saw one.  She would be thorough in her review, but so far there wasn't any evidence to exonerate Ensign Sato.

=/\=

Clemins set a PADD on Archer's desk.  There was carefully concealed nervousness in her face and Archer briefly hoped it was because her results conflicted with Lieutenant Reed's. 

"I went over everything again, sir... I'm sorry I couldn't find anything else." 

Archer leaned back in his chair.  He hadn't realized until now that he had been unconsciously hoping that Malcolm was wrong.  It just would have made everything so much easier. 

"Everything leads back to Ensign Sato being the one who planted the virus.  It was sent to her personal messaging system from a signal with a Terra Prime signature.  The virus was uploaded to the terminal she used and at the exact time she was using it.  And if we look back at the incident when Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato contracted an alien virus and were confined, then we both know that the Ensign could easily have the skills required to do this."  Clemins was quiet for a moment and Archer motioned for her to sit down, recognizing that he hadn't yet done so.  "Honestly, sir, I don't know what Lieutenant Reed needed me for.  He's the best there is, and this was a pretty cut and dried incident." 

Archer picked up the PADD and scanned through it. "He needed you to tell him he was right, and I don't blame him.  This just hit to close to home for him; he wasn't sure he was making the right decisions."  Clemins nodded. "You did exactly what we were hoping for," Archer reassured her.  Clemins nodded again, straightening her posture even stiffer.  She really was the female version of Malcolm if he ever saw one.  It wasn't hard to see why the man respected her.  

"Have you given any thought to the position we've offered?"  Her face turned very serious and Archer could see her quickly scanning back over her options along with every feasible outcome. 

"Yes, sir, I have." 

"And your decision?" 

"Honestly sir, it's a bit daunting.  With Lieutenant Reed as the standard... it's just very large shoes to fill.  I haven't served as long as he has; I don't have as much experience..." 

"But you are familiar with the position; it would be good for your career.  If Reed is as confident in your abilities as he says he is, then I believe you would make an excellent addition to this crew." 

Clemins nodded. "Thank you, sir." 

"When can I know your answer?" 

She was silent for a moment then answered, "I accept the position, sir."

Archer smiled. "Well then, Lieutenant Clemins, you are now the Chief of Security of the Enterprise.

=/\=

Archer was on the bridge when Trip walked in.  As soon as Trip entered, his gaze fixed on Archer. 

He walked over to the chair. "Sir, if you have a moment I need to talk to you." 

Archer could tell this wasn't going to be a conversation he wanted to have. "Alright, now is fine. Come to the ready room." 

Trip nodded and followed Archer across the deck and into the little office area.  As soon as the door closed behind them, both men sat down.  "I can already tell this isn't going to be good news.  Did something go wrong with the refugees?" 

"No, no.  They've hit some snags, but nothing catastrophic yet. I did speak with Q'ell this morning. I need to bring down a few supplies later, but everyone is fine for the most part." 

"Well what all do they need?" 

Trip glanced at the clock. "Have you got some time?" 

Archer nodded and leaned back, ready for whatever Trip had come to say. Thirty minutes later they were still talking.

"Okay, so you want to stay here and move the refugee's colony?" 

"I know we'd be out here for a couple of months, Jon, but they don't have experience with this." 

"What do you mean?" Archer asked, exasperated.  "They built the first colony.  How is this any different?" 

"Yeah they did... ten generations ago.  It's not fair for us to offer them help then dump them on this planet and leave."

"They chose where they wanted their colony to be.  What makes you think they want to move anyway?"

"They chose that location because they don't trust us, Jon.  The location of the largest deuterium deposit was the only criteria they used."  Trip let this information sink in.

"What do you mean they don't trust us?"

"With what they've been through, would you?  What makes us different from the Klingons?"

"We're trying to help them.  We haven't even asked for any deuterium..."

"But for how long?!  Jon, you have to be able to see how they can think we might take advantage of them.  And the only way they know how to combat that is to be prepared.  They're sacrificing a decent place to live for the security of a large deposit of deuterium.  But it's unnecessary and it's no place to live.  There's no water for 5 klicks, it's colder than they're used to, the machines aren't suited for the environment... I could go on..." He folded his arms, confident he had made his point.

"Trip that's not a decision I can make on my own.  I'd have to go through Starfleet, and honestly I'm not sure they'll go for it.  It'll eat a lot of time." 

"Okay, Jon, you go down there and take a look around and if you can come back and tell me that we did as much as we could to help a group of people we're calling our allies then I'll let it go... but I guarantee you that won't be the case."

 Archer could always tell when he wasn't going to let something go, and this was one of those times.  "Alright.  I'll talk to Starfleet Command; see where they think we should go with this." 

Trip smiled briefly, and then his face returned to its more sullen position.

"Well I'm glad we got through that, but I get the impression you have something else you want to talk about."

Trip nodded.  "You're right I did, but it doesn't really have anything to do with the ship."  He was silent for a bit, but Archer waited patiently.  "It's about T'Pol and me." 

Trip was quiet again so Archer decided to help things along.  "You aren't getting married." 

Trip pulled a small box from his pocket and set it on the desk.  Archer recognized it as the cuff links he had given him.  "You're going to have to hang on to these for a while." 

"Dammit."  Archer couldn't help the anger he felt and Trip seemed a bit surprised by the outburst.  "This is because of Hoshi, isn't it?" 

"Are we sure it's her?" 

"What do you mean are we sure..."  Archer took a deep breath. Directing his frustration at Trip was the last thing he wanted to do.  He nodded and lowered his voice.  "Clemins confirmed today that Hoshi is being transported tomorrow at 1800." 

Trip picked up a stylus from Archer's desk and fiddled with it.  "I was still kind of hoping we were wrong," he confessed. 

Archer nodded. "I think we all were."  Both men were quiet for a time until Archer broke the silence:  "This means that T'Pol has to go back to Vulcan, doesn't it?" 

Trip nodded again and set the stylus back on the desk and leaned back in his chair.  Archer could see exhaustion in the way he sat; he was more slumped than relaxed.  "A ship comes for her in two days.  It's going to be a long six months" 

"I'm sorry, Trip.  I can't imagine..." 

"Well, I just keep telling myself everything will be okay when she comes back." 

"Trip... if there's anything you need.  I know it will be hard with Malcolm leaving too." 

Trip looked shocked. "Mal is transferring off?" 

Archer never thought for a second that Malcolm would have tried to leave without telling Trip.  He regretted letting it slip.  "He didn't tell you?" 

"No... I... I guess I'll talk to him later." 

"Well you better make it quick; Clemins has already taken over his position.  He's getting on Columbia as soon as he has everything packed, and they're leaving as soon as they have the papers to transfer Hoshi." 

"Okay.  I'll catch him before he leaves.  Maybe I can talk some sense into him," Trip joked half-heartedly.  But Archer knew... they both knew, if Malcolm was set on something, there wasn't much anyone could do about it.

"Good... I'm not excited about losing him." 

Both men were quiet before Trip broke the silence. "T'Pol's waiting for me for dinner." 

Archer nodded. "Go on.  I don't want to keep you." 

Trip thanked him again before he left. As soon as he did, Archer rubbed a hand across his face. It certainly was going to be a long six months 

=/\=

Malcolm packed his bags in silence.  He knew that there were probably things that he had left in Hoshi's quarters, but nothing so important that he couldn't leave it here.  It wasn't as if he wasn't leaving anything behind as it was; he was only leaving his whole life.  Everything he had built.  It almost seemed pointless to pack anything at all.  He wouldn't need it where he was going, but if he didn't it would draw too much attention.  This needed to seem just like a transfer for it to work. 

Malcolm folded another shirt into a tight square before putting it into his bag.  Just as he reached for another shirt his door chimed.  Malcolm's first instinct was to ignore the sound, but he knew the only person who would be at his door this late was Trip... or Hoshi... but the latter was highly unlikely.  Malcolm hadn't really been planning on telling Trip he was leaving.  Malcolm hated goodbyes and thought it best to avoid them, especially now.  Unfortunately now, however, he had very little choice in the matter.

He opened the door to find exactly who he had expected.  Trip didn't look angry as Malcolm had suspected, only tired.  Malcolm wordlessly let him in.  He moved the things on his bed aside, sitting down across from Trip, who had taken his desk chair. 

"So I here you're leavin'," Trip finally said after a bit.  Malcolm suddenly felt a bit ashamed.  Yes, he was leaving.  And at a time when someone he had called a friend for the last five years needed him most.  If Malcolm had been in Trip's position, he would have thought himself a coward

Malcolm nodded solemnly, ready for whatever Trip had come to say. "Yes, I am."

Trip looked at his hands, picking at one of his fingernails. "I want you to know that I understand why you think you need to leave, but really... you don't.  T'Pol and I,,, we don't blame you.  We've all known Hoshi forever and none of us saw it." 

Malcolm sat, a bit stunned.  Really Malcolm shouldn't have expected anything less than Trip's complete understanding, even though it's not what he felt he deserved.  "It's not just that, Trip.  I simply can't stand to be here any longer.  You have no idea how much I regret that I have to do this now with everything that's happened, but I just can't be here... it's..."  Malcolm stopped, apparently looking for a way to explain, but falling short.

"I told you, Mal, I understand.  I mean, god, you don't look like you've slept in days...no offense." 

Malcolm gave a tight smile.  Trip was right.  He hadn't, but that wasn't to say that Trip looked any better.  "I guess this means you'll have to find yourself another best man."

 Trip's light smile turned to a frown.  "I don't think that is really an issue." 

"You already have someone lined up?" Malcolm jibbed a bit playfully. "You really don't waste any time." 

Trip shook his head.  Malcolm got up and pulled a bottle out of an already packed bag and he poured two small glasses. "I don't understand," he said, handing the glass to Trip.

"We're postponing the wedding." 

"Why? Malcolm blurted, obviously surprised.  "For how long?" 

"Well T'Pol and I talked about it and she wants to wait." 

Malcolm felt a sense of unfairness at his friends loss. "Well...for how long?" 

"Intergalactic peace?"  Trip smiled, but there wasn't much humor behind it.

Malcolm took a sip of his drink. "I think it might be postponed for a while then." 

Trip nodded.  "Yeah, but I understand where she's coming from.  She's afraid it will provoke an attack. And with what's happened..." 

Malcolm seemed completely consumed by something in his glass. 

"Mal?" 

Malcolm kept his eyes on his glass, thumbing the rim.  After a moment, he focused back on Trip.  "It shouldn't be this way, you know." 

"What?" 

Malcolm took another sip from his glass then set it on the table beside him, obviously finished with it.  Whether it was because he had lost interest or simply didn't want it, Trip couldn't tell.  "The two of you...  There were laws created a century ago allowing anyone and everyone to couple with whomever they like.  It's ridiculous that in this time there is still such bigotry." 

"Well..."  Trip shrugged his shoulders, lacking an appropriate response. 

"I'm sorry we couldn't protect that... I'm sorry I couldn't protect that." 

"It's six months.  I think we'll survive." Trip smiled again, this time more convincingly.  He hated that Malcolm could find a way to make anything his own fault. 

"That's really not the point" 

Trip turned serious as an attempt to lighten Malcolm's mood hadn't seemed to help matters.  "I know, Mal.  But it's like I said before, we don't blame you.  And you shouldn't either.  You're the best man for your job, and even though I don't want you to leave, I know the same will be true wherever you go."  Malcolm crossed his arms, but Trip could see in his eyes that Malcolm appreciated it.  "Speaking of which, where are you going?  Endeavour?  It's a good ship." 

"No, I wasn't really interested in a position on a ship, although Captain Hernandez offered me one." 

Trip smiled. "You don't know what you're missing... it's like being on the Enterprise before it went through hell and back.  Has that nice new ship smell...  So are you going to be working for Starfleet Command... making protocol and what not?" 

Malcolm shook his head.  He didn't like the turn this conversation was taking. 

Trip's brow knit together and he took a sip of his drink. "Geez, Mal, are you going to make me play the guessing game all night...?" 

Malcolm thought for a moment.  He knew he couldn't tell Trip, but more than that he didn't want to.  Suddenly all the mirth left Trip's warm face.  Apparently Malcolm's silence had answered Trip's question for him.  "Oh god, Malcolm...no..." 

Malcolm let his lips pinch together, regretting not coming up with an excuse quick enough.  Trip knew him well enough that he would have figured it out eventually but Malcolm would have preferred not being here when Trip had come to the conclusion.

"Nothing's worth that, Mal."  Trip seemed almost angry by Malcolm's choice.

"I have a plan," he assured his friend.  "It's going to be okay." 

"It's not going to be okay."  Now Trip was standing.  Malcolm closed his eyes as Trip went on.   "Just from the little you've told me, I can figure that out.  Why can't you?"

"I've made my decision.  It's what I have to do."  

"It's a damn waste of a good man!" Trip shouted. 

Malcolm stood to meet his friend.  He put a hand on his arm and squeezed reassuringly.  "It's complicated.  But everything will be alright." 

Trip pulled away from Malcolm, but instead of getting angrier as Malcolm had anticipated, he slumped back into his chair, looking a bit defeated.  "You know, I'm getting pretty sick of people telling me that," he laughed humorlessly then finished his glass. "It's not complicated, Malcolm," Trip said tiredly, not letting Malcolm out of his gaze. "This is your own personal penance for something you feel you've done, something that I can guarantee isn't your fault." 

"I've made my decision, Trip. I'm not changing my mind." 

Trip glared at him from across the room for a moment then finally threw up his hands. "Fine.  Just don't get yourself killed." 

"I'll make a genuine effort." 

"Good... because I'm still going to need a best man at some point."  He handed his glass to Malcolm, who refilled it.

"And I'll be happy to oblige," he replied, handing the glass back to his friend.  Even as he said it, though, Malcolm knew it was in all likelihood an empty promise.

=/\=

Archer stroked Erica's hair as it fell across his chest.  "Your people aren't expecting you back tonight?"

She lifted her head to look at him then shook it gently.  "I told them I would be staying over to transport Ensign Sato." 

The smile that rested on Archer's face faded. 

"I'm sorry, Jon.  And I'm sorry I'm the one who has to do it." 

Jon nodded. "It's not really like you had a choice... unless of course there's some other Starfleet vessel I'm just not aware of."  Erica laughed and settled back into Archer's embrace.  Jon loved the way Erica's skin felt next to his.  Ever since he'd become a captain, and even more so after the Expanse, this part of his life had been put on hold.  It was something that he had become accustomed to.  But if things were to change, if there was one person that could make him feel like there was something else, it was her. 

The reality, though, was that they were both in love with their ships.  There wasn't anyone that could make either of them leave.  Archer sighed heavily.

Erica let her hand run across his chest. "What is it, Jon?"

They had agreed sometime ago to keep work out of the bed, but it had never really happened.  Erica had already broken that rule tonight, so he went ahead.  "I feel like my ship is falling apart at the seams." 

Erica let her hand keep running gently up and down his chest.  "Jon, you're just not used to it," she said soothingly. "You've been lucky so far.  I only have half of the people I started with.  I feel like I need to memorize a new name every day."  She paused, and pulled the blanket up over her shoulders. "Think about it.  Everyone on your ship, aside from a handful, has been here since the first mission.  No one has accepted a promotion, no one has transferred off, and the only reason you have any new crewmembers at all is due to casualties."  She stopped stroking his chest and lay her head down.  "Everyone has put aside the progression of their careers to keep your little family together," she said airily, "but really, Jon, how long did you think it was going to last?" 

Archer shrugged wordlessly, seeing truth in what she was saying. 

"Travis could make Captain in ten years if he'd let go and I'd say Mr. Tucker could make it in two, but we both know there's nothing in the world but engines for him.  Accept what you've had and move on."

Archer wished he could see it that way.  Maybe she was right, he had been spoiled. But this ship was a family, and right now all was not well in paradise.  It almost felt like a personal failure. 

Why hadn't he seen Hoshi for what she was? 

Why hadn't he been able to protect his crewmembers from all of this? 

Why couldn't he convince Malcolm that this really wasn't his fault?

Archer closed his eyes and concentrated on the things he did know.

Erica's skin felt wonderful.

She smelled like sunflowers and ocean.

She seemed to fit perfectly in his arms.

Archer smiled and kissed her softly on the lips.  Erica smiled back.  This was enough for now.

=/\=

Hoshi was starting to get nervous, there was only about an hour before she was to be transferred and she felt like there were still so many people she needs to apologize to.  She wanted to beg Trip for forgiveness.  She wanted Malcolm to know that she hadn't intended to use him, that what she felt was real.  She wanted Jon to know that it wasn't his fault, that she had used every gift she had to keep everything a secret.

Now that he was here, though, she just felt ashamed. "Captain." Hoshi stood as he entered the cell, waving away the brig guards. 

He simply stood, staring at her until he spoke.  He looked sad, almost defeated, his voice a low rumble. "I never thought that you," he articulated slowly, "out of everyone on the ship..." 

"I..."  The captain gave her a look that seemed to immobilize any powers of speech she had ever possessed.  

"You speak alien languages for a living, for god sake.  Why would you do this?  Why would..."  Hoshi realized that she had sat back down; she remained silent, not quite knowing how to respond.  "I've known you for years... and you're being tried for the attempted murder of Trip and T'Pol," Archer spat out, disgust lingering in his voice. Hoshi kept staring at her hands, "Look at me! You are being tried for trying to murder two people that you called your friends."  He looked like he wanted, no, needed some sort of an explanation.  Hoshi could offer nothing.  "You've completely ripped this ship apart, Hoshi." 

"I'm sorry."  The response was instinctive now.  I'm sorry I joined Terra Prime.  I'm sorry I hurt my friends.  I'm sorry that no one trusts me.  I'm sorry that I betrayed this ship.  She had said it so many times for so many reasons it almost seemed meaningless now.  But Hoshi could think of no other way to describe how she felt-sorry.

Archer glared at her, then scoffed, "It's almost ridiculous to hear you say that, considering what you've done." 

"I know," she conceded softly, "but I am."  Archer glared at her a bit longer before he let his shoulders sag forward, obviously exhausted.   

Archer sat down. "Malcolm's transferring off the ship because of this."

Hoshi felt her heart skip a beat. "But this is his home..."

Archer laughed bitterly. "Not anymore.  And he's not the only one.  Trip and T'Pol postponed the wedding.  T'Pol is going back to Vulcan."

Hoshi's face felt hot as her eyes welled with tears.  It was hurt to hear about the pain she'd caused, but she knew she didn't deserve anything less.

"I wanted so much to believe that Malcolm was wrong, that Clemins would find something.  But she didn't.  Malcolm was right.  I finally need to accept that you did this."   Archer almost sounded like he was pleading with her, begging her to tell him that this was all actually a big mistake.

She wanted to reach out to him, she wanted to comfort him, her friend, but she no longer possessed that ability.  "Captain..." 

"I'm not your captain," he snapped, suddenly angry again, "You are no longer an ensign.  You no longer are part of this ship.  You have destroyed the only true family you ever had." 

Hoshi couldn't help the sob that bubbled out of her mouth.  The truth of the statement hurt too much to bear. 

Archer's face twisted in disgust. "Stop that."  

"I hardly think that's necessary, Captain." Neither of them had noticed Phlox's arrival to the brig.  Archer stood up and straightened his uniform. Hoshi's head remained down.  "Perhaps you should attend to something more pressing," the doctor suggested gently but firmly.  The captain seemed to agree and left before Phlox could enter the cell. 

Hoshi was crying quietly as Phlox sat down next to her. "Why are you here?" she whispered.

"I wanted to see you before you left." 

Hoshi nodded; she felt a bit numb. "And what if they're right about everything?" she asked, tears streaming down her face as she looked at him. "What if I did try to kill them?" 

"Just because they didn't find anything doesn't mean that they are right." 

Hoshi was silent for a moment then wiped her eyes.  "Why do you believe that?  After what I did... it could be me.  I could be manipulating you.  I could hate you because of what you are." 

Phlox pursed his lips, the ridges on his head lifted slightly. "You're absolutely right... but you aren't, and you don't.  Besides, what purpose would that serve?  Hmm?" 

Hoshi was silent and was surprised when he took her hand. 

His voice was gentle when he spoke.  "I have known you for some time, Hoshi.  And what I believe, whether you will tell anyone or not, is that this is all much more complicated than it seems.  I believe that you played a much smaller role in the incident with Terra Prime than you are letting people think.  I believe that you are doing this because, regardless of the part you played, you feel as guilty as if you were Paxton himself." 

Hoshi couldn't help but feel surprised at his insight. 

"I believe you are letting people believe this because you feel it's what you deserve. And I believe you feel this way because for you, it is the only way to atone for what you've done.  Now tell me, am I right?" 

Hoshi was very still.  She neither agreed nor disagreed, but in her soul she knew everything he had said was right.  Phlox smiled gently. "I believe all of these things because I know who you are.  And because I believe these things, I also know that you did not attempt to kill your friends." 

Hoshi squeezed his hand. "Thank you," she whispered, fresh tears rolled down her cheeks. "You are truly the closest friend I have ever had." 

Phlox nodded. "I feel much the same about you." 

"What time is it?"

Phlox looked at the small time device on his communicator. "1752."

Hoshi closed her eyes. "They'll be taking me soon." 

Phlox nodded.

Hoshi closed her eyes. "I'm afraid."

Phlox squeezed her hand. "You have nothing to fear."

"This may be the last time I see you." 

Phlox shook his head. "I doubt that very much.  Denobulans live for a very long time.  I will see you again someday." 

Hoshi wanted to believe him, but she doubted what he said with every fiber of her being. 

The brig guard that had left when Archer entered returned to the cell, this time with two more guards and a pair of restraints.

"I'm sorry, Doctor, but we're transporting Ensign Sato now."

Phlox nodded and stood up.  Hoshi closed her eyes as they clipped the restraints around her wrists. 

There was nothing left to say to Phlox, so she simply let the guards lead her out of the brig to the shuttle bay.  It was hard to walk; her vision was fuzzy and her hands buzzed in their skin.

Finally they reached the transport pod.  As soon as they were inside, Hoshi flopped into one of the seats.  Even though she wasn't sure why, a wave a relief washed over her.

It was finally over.

This was it.
=/\=

TBC

 

 

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