A few months back Deedaladee wrote to me asking if I would write a story in which Malcolm explained to Phlox why he acted as he did when the Doctor was abducted by the Klingons (Affliction/Divergence). The idea intrigued me.

I hope I took good care of your plot bunny, Deedaladee, and that this is at least in part like you wanted it.

Grateful thanks to my wonderful beta readers, Gabi2305 and RoaringMice. RoaringMice also gets a hug for finding a title for me!

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"Careful of those loose rocks, Doc. There are lots of them."

"Indeed. Thank you, Commander."

On the mountain path of that rugged planet, Archer led the away party in a single file, with a couple of MACOs behind him, and Phlox and Trip bringing up the rear.

Well, somebody else was in the lead, technically – Archer mused, lifting his gaze from the uneven terrain; but the man was nowhere to be seen, scouting far ahead.

Ever one to conjure up all kinds of dangers, Reed had silently taken point upon exiting the Shuttlepod. Gone were the days when Archer would have felt deprived of the leadership role; he was no longer the reckless Captain of four years before. Not long into their trek the man had informed him he would make a recce, quickened his pace and disappeared from sight. Maybe Reed needed to be alone; after his time in the Brig he seemed to have reverted to the introverted man of their first weeks in space.

Reed. Since when had he started referring to Malcolm by his family name? He hadn't much done that – least of all in the privacy of his thoughts – after those first few weeks of their mission. Indeed, his informality had annoyed the Lieutenant to no end.

"Couldn't they have chosen a nicer place for a science station?"

Trip's drawl brought a wistful half-smile to Archer's lips. At least the Engineer had retained a bit of his original character; though these days there was a darker side even to him.

"There are reasons why this planet was chosen," Phlox replied.

The Doctor started listing them, and Archer let the words fade into the background, not interested in one of the Denobulan's lengthy explanations. The view, though, was as uninteresting as Phlox's lecture; rocks, rocks, and more rocks, with a few low bushes here and there, so that soon Archer found his mind drifting. Unfortunately these days it always seemed to drift towards the same issues; Trip wanting a transfer to Columbia; Phlox's abduction and… Yes, the issue that invariably elbowed its way to the forefront: Malcolm Reed; what he had done, and what he – Archer – had discovered about him.

Damn it, but if it had been disconcerting to find out that his Security Officer – a man he trusted with his life and the lives of all on board – had smoothly lied to him, no less shocking had it been to learn that the Lieutenant had once been a covert agent. Not for the first time Archer wondered whether he really knew Reed at all; if there were other secrets the man was keeping from him. He sighed. Trust was a tricky thing. Betray it but once and the tear in it would be hard to patch up.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Reed's compact form appeared in the distance. Archer watched him approach. His movements were supple, his reflexes sharp, and his gaze focused. Now that he saw him in a very different light from the one that had showed him only as a dedicated officer, Archer couldn't suppress a shiver.

"Lieutenant?" he enquired.

The terseness in his voice was clear; hurting him to hear it. He had been so proud of his crew, of the tightly-knit group he had come to think of as his family. Now that special bond seemed gone: gone up in smoke, like the Xindi Weapon; transferred away, like Trip; marred, like the trust between him and his Armoury Officer.

"The coast seems clear, Sir," Reed replied dutifully, wiping a sleeve on his brow. "No one in sight, neither man nor beast."

Sweat stains darkened his uniform, just as everyone else's. The atmosphere on the planet wasn't overly warm, but the hike was tiresome due to the mountainous terrain.

Archer nodded, eyes boring into the Lieutenant's indefinable grey ones. Two weeks after Reed's 'betrayal' he could still read discomfort there, but the man did not lower them, though Archer knew it was costing him a definite effort.

"There is a flatter stretch up ahead, in about a kilometre and a half," Reed continued. "I suggest we set up camp."

"But there are still a couple of hours left of light," Phlox complained, concern lacing his words. "Captain, surely we shouldn't waste them. We don't know what happened to the people of that station, and every hour might count."

Archer turned back to Reed, whose gaze was now firmly locked to the ground. He had a feeling Reed had not talked to the Doctor after the Denobulan's abduction at the hands of those Klingons. He should; and Archer made a quick mental note to tell him so.

"With all due respect, Sir," Reed countered in a deep, controlled voice, "When darkness falls we don't want to find ourselves on a mountain path. It's better to be safe for the night and early start tomorrow."

"Lieutenant, this is a rescue mission," Phlox insisted coldly.

The grey eyes lifted and sought only Archer's, purposefully avoiding Phlox, who stood just beside him. "We won't help those people if we end up taking a false step and slipping down a ravine, Sir; or if we are attacked by night predators in a position where we can't defend ourselves."

Archer knew Reed wasn't trying to be rude with the Denobulan; it was guilt for obeying Harris during the Doctor's abduction that made him shun away from Phlox's gaze, and he almost felt bad for the man – almost. The Lieutenant had been caught in a net and ended up putting a dent in what he held dearest, his honour. But Archer could not forget that Reed's actions had endangered his ship and his entire crew. Any sympathy was swept away from his heart whenever he thought of that.

Clenching his jaw, he debated his decision. "Are you sure there are no other suitable places for a camp, further ahead, Lieutenant?"

"Capt'n, I know our scanners don't work down here, but… wouldn't the easiest thing be to ask T'Pol to use Enterprise's sensors?" Trip butted in. "We know they function."

It seemed that some of the Vulcan's logic had rubbed off on his Chief Engineer. Archer shot him a mildly amused glance, which turned sour when the patch on Trip's shoulder reminded him that "his Chief Engineer" was only temporarily back with him.

He reached for his communicator. "Archer to Enterprise."

"Go ahead, Captain," a poised voice replied.

"Lieutenant Reed tells me there is a flat portion of terrain suitable for camping not far from us. Can you scan the area and tell me if there are any others within a couple of hours' walk from our current location?"

There was a small pause before T'Pol came back with a reply.

"There is one at eight point four-two kilometres, Captain," she said, ever precision incarnate. "Along the path you are on."

Archer shot Reed a look and got back a nod. "Thanks. That will do. Any luck contacting the station?"

"No. There is still no reply to our hails."

"Keep trying. Archer out."

As they resumed their march, Trip took advantage of the stop to overtake the MACOs, and fall in step with Archer.

"Remind me once again how Starfleet came up with the brilliant idea of buildin' a science station two days' walk from the nearest landin' site, on this damn rock of a planet?" the Engineer drawled, unscrewing the cap of his canteen. "Water?" he offered.

Archer accepted the flask with a grateful nod and took a swig. Trip's relaxed mood made him feel at ease. He could almost trick himself into believing they were back in the old days, when they were naïve explorers.

"That isn't exactly true; there is a landing pad," he replied, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand. "Problem is, it can only accommodate one vessel, the scientists'; to be used in case of an emergency."

"Now that is smart," Trip commented, shaking his head.

"It was done for security reasons, Commander," Reed shot unexpectedly over his shoulder.

The man may look like he was focused on their surroundings… – Archer mulled.

"They store some pretty virulent pathogens in that place, and they wanted to limit the danger of a terrorist attack from the sky," the Lieutenant concluded.

Trip smirked. "Well, for sure an attack from the land isn't such a piece of cake either."

"Enterprise's sensors found no trace of ships having landed on the planet," Archer reasoned. "And the entire area around the station, for a radius of kilometres, is shielded against transports. I really don't know what could have gone wrong."

Trip shrugged. "For all we know it's simply a problem with their comm. system."

"Tomorrow we'll find out," Reed commented tersely.

Archer watched him nimbly vault over a rock that was in their way; he exchanged a look with Trip, and in silent agreement they took the longer route around it.

The sky had been on fire when they had finally got to the camping site. The setting sun had painted long shadows on the ground in front of them, like pointing arrows urging them to keep going. But Archer had known better than challenge his Tactical Officer's opinion. Reed was right, in any case: it wasn't wise to risk an accident.

Reclining back on his elbows, the Captain watched Corporal Chang, sitting cross-legged on the other side of the crackling fire, finish whatever he was eating out of his ration pack. It seemed like yesterday that the MACOs had first come on board, a compact group that had kept a lot to themselves. They had seemed so damn out-of-place, among the blue Starfleet jumpsuits. Having professional soldiers on Enterprise for their mission in the Expanse had been a hard decision to make, but one he had not regretted. The tension among the crew during the first few days had been palpable, though, if only because the MACOs were a powerful reminder that they were no longer on a mission of exploration. And then there had been that rivalry between Major Hayes – bless his soul – and Reed... Hell, it had taken those two beating each other to a pulp, for them to start finding some common ground. Archer let his gaze stray to Trip and Romero, sitting on a rock off at some distance, chuckling companionably as they shared memories of camping trips. He was glad those days were over, and that the MACOs were now as part of the crew as the Starfleet complement.

"If you'll excuse me, Captain," Chang said, getting up.

Archer refocused on him. "Go ahead, Corporal. Are you going to find the Lieutenant?" Reed was nowhere to be seen – he had disappeared, saying that he was going to have a 'look around'.

"Actually, no, Sir," Chang said a bit hesitantly. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "As matter of fact I hope that in the next few minutes the Lieutenant won't find me."

Suddenly realising what the Corporal was up to, Archer allowed himself a teasing remark. "Be careful," he quipped. "He might mistake you for a night predator."

Chang flipped him a salute, his smile widening. "Good night, Captain. I'm taking third watch so, after, I'd better catch some sleep. If the Lieutenant doesn't shoot me, that is."

Archer chuckled. "Good night."

Maybe he ought to get some shuteye too – he mulled as he stretched, repressing a yawn. A buzzing sounded behind him, making him startle. He turned abruptly to Phlox passing a medical scanner over him. The Doctor had been so uncharacteristically silent that he had forgotten about his presence around the fire.

"Your readings are back to normal, Captain," he said, blue eyes lifting from the scanner. "But your cranial ridges are taking a little longer than I had expected to disappear; though they are barely visible now."

"As long as they do go away, eventually," Archer commented, passing a hand over his slightly raised forehead. "Despite what Trip thinks about it, I don't really like to appear intimidating."

Agreeing to be a host to that Klingon plague in order to accelerate the development of an antivirus had not been a walk in the park. But critical situations called for drastic measures, and if he hadn't, things might have taken a very nasty turn.

"Give them another couple of days, and I'm sure you'll be rid of them."

"How are your bruises?" Archer enquired in return. Phlox had been beaten for refusing to collaborate in the creation of Klingon Augments. He suspected it had been a more painful affair than the Doctor let through. Denobulans were rather private people.

"I am better, thank you," Phlox courteously replied.

He left it at that, and Archer didn't enquire further. But casting a glance around to check that they had the proper privacy, he said quietly, "I am sorry about what happened, Doc; especially about Lieutenant Reed's interference with our search for you."

"I've only heard rumours about it," Phlox said in a careful voice.

Archer bit his lip. He should have known. And he had meant the comment more as a show of sympathy to the Doctor than as an open criticism of his Armoury Officer.

"The Lieutenant was told you had been abducted to carry out an important mission for Starfleet," he said, without meeting Phlox's eyes. He should give him the facts, offer an impartial explanation, and he was sure that in his eyes the Doctor would read how he still felt about it. It wasn't easy for him to give an objective account of what had made Reed act the way he had; he still felt emotionally involved. "He thought that it was imperative for Earth that you be successful in it. He was… ordered to slow us down," he forced himself to add.

"In the end my captivity did prove useful," Phlox replied.

His seemingly forgiving tone caused a wave of irritation rise within Archer, which he was powerless to stop. "He lied to me, and endangered my ship," he couldn't refrain from spitting out, and his dark tone said it all. Heaving a deep breath, he reined in his anger. "But I cannot deny that he was put in a difficult position."

"You haven't quite forgiven him yet, have you, Captain?" Phlox enquired with a frown, looking directly into Archer's eyes.

"I'm his Commanding Officer," Archer croaked out. "We went through thick and thin together. He should have trusted me with the truth."

He felt a hard mask come over his face. What had happened to his crew, his family? What had he, their leader, done wrong, to have Trip, his friend Trip, wanting a transfer; and Malcolm, the man who would have died to defend them, tell him a damn lie and place them all in danger?

"And now you fear he might keep other things from you."

It wasn't a question. In fact, Phlox's voice had held a touch of sadness, as if he too shared that damning doubt.

There was a scuttling noise, and a form emerged from the darkness that surrounded them, preventing Archer from giving a reply.

"Everything is quiet, Sir," Reed said, stopping at a distance. "Romero will take first watch, I'll take second, and Chang third. That will cover the night."

"Very well."

In the semi-darkness it was difficult to read anything on the Lieutenant's face; not that it was ever easy to do that. Archer doubted, though, that he could have overheard any of his and Phlox's words; they had kept their voices low.

"We'd better get some sleep, then," Archer added, picking himself up.

He stretched, feeling his muscles ache from the hike; no amount of running on a treadmill could replace physical exercise in the open air. Going to retrieve his sleeping bag in his backpack, he glanced over at Trip, sitting alone on the rock now that Romero had gone to confer with his C.O. Not so long ago the Engineer would have undoubtedly sat with his Captain around the fire.

"Get some shuteye too, Commander," he ordered. "Tomorrow promises to be a long day."

Trip straightened his back like a first-year recruit. "Aye, Sir."

Archer swallowed past a lump in his throat. Damn it, but what the hell had happened to his family?

TBC

Eagerly awaiting your comments :-)