Last chapter!

§ 7 §

"Here we go, Commander."

The hiss of a hypospray, Phlox's stretchy smile, Malcolm's slightly worried gaze… Trip gripped the edge of the biobed and closed his eyes, willing to shut everything off.

"Why don't you lie down for a few minutes," the Doctor went on happily. "It won't be long before you feel better, and then you can return to your quarters."

Trip groaned his assent and started shifting to a horizontal position. Someone helped him; he didn't look whether it was Phlox or Malcolm.

He'd drifted off the moment his symptoms had started giving him a bit of respite. It couldn't have been very long, though, because when he re-opened his eyes, Malcolm was still there. The man was sitting listlessly, towel around his neck, eyes lost on some nondescript spot on the deck plating, mind miles away. Trip watched him in silence. Malcolm was good at hiding behind all kinds of shields when he was with people, so here was his chance to study him undisturbed, read him through, as it were.

There were definite signs of exhaustion on the Lieutenant's face. He really should have noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Well, one took for granted that if a person chose to lift weights after duty he couldn't be very tired… But actually he wouldn't have been able to see anything because he'd been too focused on himself, on how he was going to structure his line of defence. Now that they had finally confronted each other, his eyes had opened to the world around him. Now he saw that he may well have suffered the consequences of his command decisions on his own hide, but Malcolm had been put through his own little hell as well; because of those decisions…

Trip's gaze shifted to the discoloration on the Lieutenant's jaw, and his brow furrowed in a frown. That too he had managed to miss…

"How'd you get that bruise?" he drawled quietly, breaking the silence.

He watched the grey gaze close off slightly, as it shifted to him and refocused on the present. Slipping an arm under his pillow, Trip turned on his side, to face his friend. Malcolm straightened in his chair and cleared his throat. He opened his mouth and hesitated.

"It was me?" Trip asked, with a wince. Sometimes they had this thing: instant communication.

"You thought those Berellians… Well, you thought that I… that I wasn't really me. You were… well, out of it."

"You bet I was," Trip quipped, to break the awkwardness. "I would never dare, in my right mind."

Malcolm's face smoothed in a smile and his shoulders relaxed. "I take it you're feeling better."

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Phlox said you're likely to have a few relapses, but you ought to improve fast and be back on duty in a couple of days."

"Peachy," Trip commented, deadpan.

With a shrug of sympathy, Malcolm relapsed into silence. He seemed without energy. He must have exhausted it all by brooding all this time. The man must have worried and built up frustration from the moment they'd separated on the planet to their confrontation in the gym. In terms of hours that was something like… Well, an awful lot of time.

"So, how did you…" Trip moved a finger in a circle. Again, he didn't need to formulate a proper question, Malcolm caught on right away.

"The hell if I know," he huffed out. "I felt… your emotions, I guess."

"You don't strike me as the type of person who'd give credit to that kind of thing," Trip wondered.

Malcolm narrowed his eyes in thought. "I wasn't sure about it, but… in a way I was. Absolutely certain." Huskily, he added, "Somehow I knew you were in trouble."

Trip was suddenly self-conscious. "Can you feel them now? My emotions?"

It was a relief to see Malcolm shake his head.

"Phlox said that it had probably something to do with the drugs they injected you with. Made you sort of telepathic."

A screech in the background was followed by a few guttural sounds. Trip caught Malcolm's eyes, and they both grimaced. Phlox's manifestations of affection for his creatures were kind of weird.

Come to think of it – Trip mused – he'd take on that offer to rest in his quarters. Throwing his legs off the side of the biobed, he sat up.

Malcolm shot up from his chair. "I'll walk you to your quarters," he said, in a tone that conveyed his entire support.

Trip nodded and opened his mouth to notify Phlox.

"Don't hesitate to contact me, should your symptoms come back, Commander," the Doctor chirruped, without turning from his menagerie.

Rolling his eyes, Trip slipped off the bed. "Sure thing. Thanks, Doc."

"The Capt'n told me about your new REED security protocol."

The incoherent sound that met that comment prompted Trip to look at the man who was walking at his side. Well, Malcolm oughtta expect a bit of ribbing for that...

"Tryin' again to go down in history, huh, after we botched the Reed alert?"

Malcolm's eyes darted to him, and there was a naughty glint in them.

"My first choice, actually, was ARSE – Abrupt Rescue and Speedy Evacuation," he said in a subtle tone that left Trip wondering if he was serious. "But Müller thought REED would go down better with the Captain."

Trip chuckled. "Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He could imagine the two Armoury men, both the picture of propriety, discussing the choice of acronym. Malcolm's wild streak wasn't for everyone to see, and it was good to know he felt comfortable enough with someone else on the ship to let that side of him come to the surface. Most of all, Trip was glad the sullen Lieutenant he had found in the gym earlier on seemed to have disappeared.

"Never underestimate your SIC's suggestions. By the way, the Capt'n told me he'll give his okay," he revealed, hoping to be the first to break the good news.

"Damn right he should."

Trip stopped, causing Malcolm to retrace a couple of steps. The sharp comment contained – he knew – a measure of criticism directed also at him. The grey eyes met his unabashedly, if not confrontationally.

"Look, Trip, if we had stayed together, on that planet, it may or may not have made any difference, I'll grant you that," Malcolm said, crossing his arms over his chest. "But this mission once more goes to show that we can't take people's sincerity for granted. We need to be more cautious."

They held each other's gaze for a long moment; then Trip winced. "I hate that; sort of goes against my nature."

The tension that had re-entered Malcolm's body left it again.

"I know," he said quietly, unfolding his arms. "Yours and the Captain's. I suppose that's why it's all the more important you take my advice into consideration."

Trip could hear a veil of bitterness in the words; not only for the obvious facts. He could hear self-reproach; regret that Malcolm's own nature was so different, so much more guarded and distrustful. As if the quality that made him a fine professional also made him a faulty human being. He wanted to say something, but the corridor of a ship was no place for such a conversation. A couple of crewmen were coming down the other end, and they resumed walking, exchanging nods as they passed by.

The ship was quiet; it was already close to midnight.

Waiting for the turbo-lift, Trip let out a mirthless huff. "Why are people so afraid of other people?" he wondered. "It's crazy, when you think of it: Berellians did what they did because they were afraid of us."

"People are afraid of what is different, of what they don't know."

A touch of self-consciousness laced the words, after the lecture on caution.

"So the answer is gather knowledge by any method?" Trip passed a nervous hand up and down his hair. The fear of having revealed something he shouldn't have had resurfaced with a vengeance.

"Quit worrying, Trip," Malcolm said.

The man could read him all right.

"Chances are that even if you did tell them something, they aren't going to use that information. They seem to be pretty closed off to the universe."

Trip knew there was another danger, which Malcolm surely was aware of but had refrained from mentioning; that the information might fall into different hands. Damn! There must be some way to find out whether...

"Hoshi has been tapping in and recording the Ministry of Intergalactic Affairs' comm. channels," Malcolm said, as if he'd read his thoughts. "She has an awful lot of data to run through the translation matrix, but sooner or later we ought to pick up something useful. We'll know."

"And then?" Trip asked tautly, entering the lift. He turned to his friend.

"And then, if needs be, we'll do something about it."

There was the cool determination of the professional, in Malcolm's voice. It calmed the storm inside Trip's breast. He drew comfort from the Lieutenant's strength.

"Like threaten to drop a couple of micro-charges and blow up the entire city?" he enquired, tongue-in-cheek.

Questioning eyebrows lifted.

"The Captain told me," Trip said with a shrug.

Malcolm let the doors close behind him, before breaking into a smile. "Wasn't that a grand pseudo-explosion?"

Trip shook his head. Trust Malcolm to fix things that way…

"The best, Lieutenant, the best."

THE END

Cookies to all my reviewers! Please leave a last comment.