"Transport successful, Commander."

T'Pol nodded a curt acknowledgement from the captain's chair. "Back us off to a safe distance and a higher orbit. And I want our full scanner array pointed at that drone ship. Going forward, we'll need as much information about these drone ships as we are able to obtain."

"Aye Commander."

T'Pol stared at the ship on the view screen. It had been in orbit around a Coalition world for months and no one had noticed it. The pit of her stomach felt like ice. Even now, Starfleet Command would be receiving their transmission regarding the events on the drone ship. Even now, they would be frantically calling a conclave among the Coalition world leaders. And they would declare war. After the genocidal attack on Denobula, the treaty all but demanded it. War with an enemy that could hide a ship in orbit for months.

And she was pregnant.

"We've reached to an orbit higher than the predicted debris field."

"Polarise hull plating," T'Pol ordered. "Time to explosion?"

"Ninety five seconds," Hoshi Sato, called striding onto the bridge.

"Report," Jonathan Archer called, following moments after.

T'Pol simply relayed the ships status and surrendered the Captain's chair. Lieutenant Sato, she noticed went to stand by Travis Mayweather. A human could not have overheard their conversation, but T'Pol was not human.

"You came back," Travis whispered to her. "I didn't think you would."

"Don't get any ideas," Hoshi replied. "I came back for myself, not for you. If you want to be part of my life, well, we can talk about it. But you are never to call me a coward again."

Then the mining ship exploded, and they all watched what felt like the start of a war in silence.

"So it's official then?"

Archer nodded, although of course the man he was speaking to could only hear him. He nodded to convince himself, perhaps. "Yes. We just got word from Starfleet Command. The Coalition of Planets has declared war against the Romulan Star Empire. And, there's more. I'm sorry Malcolm, I fought for you all but, Starfleet has refused to authorise your evacuation from Denobula, even if you were to test negative for the virus. Hoshi and I were one thing, in bio suits on a ship that wasn't infected with the virus anyway, but you..."

"I've been breathing the air in a hospital in the infected capital city for days," Malcolm finished. "Fair enough, I suppose."

Archer smiled to himself. "You are taking all this a little better than we all expected, Malcolm."

"Well, I've been cultivating a sense of perspective," Malcolm replied fatalistically. "After all, I have to go to go tell Phlox that his son is dead in a minute. I don't suppose you have any advice?"

Archer grimaced. There was going to be a lot more of those sorts of conversations for him going forward. "Speak slowly and clearly. Don't worry about making things better, because you can't. Just try not to make it any worse."

After a moment of silence passed between them, Archer continued. "I'll send you down a copy of the official declaration of war, for your interest. And there's another file, too. Only... maybe don't read that one until after you talk to Phlox? It might make you cranky."

Malcolm laughed uneasily. "Really? I'm stranded on Denobula, of all places, I've lost the use of a limb, I have to tell a friend that his child is dead, and oh... we're at war. How much worse can things get?!"

"Just...try to remember that sense of perspective when you read it, okay?" Archer replied with a ghost of a smile. "Goodbye, Malcolm. It's been...well, it's been interesting, hasn't it?"

As it happened, Malcolm hardly needed to say anything to Phlox. Somehow he'd already known.

"Mettus is dead, isn't he?" Phlox asked softly moments after Malcolm had entered the hospital room and asked how he was feeling.

"Yes," Malcolm answered, inwardly cursing Archer's not very useful advice. "He is. He died shortly after you were found, without regaining consciousness. I'm so sorry, Phlox."

Phlox closed his eyes, and nodded slightly. Then he spoke again, his voice almost steady. "And Elizabeth?"

Malcolm swallowed. "She's alive. She..."

"...I asked her to make sure that they saved Mettus."

"Phlox..."

Phlox cut him short with a wave of his hand. "I shouldn't have asked her that. I shouldn't have said what I said. Done what I did. Perhaps, she even tried. Her eyes were so badly damaged. Perhaps, she didn't know who she was pointing at. Either way, will you tell her...tell her I'm sorry?"

"I will," Malcolm answered, not sure what else to do. "Is there anything else I can..?"

"My other daughter, Messanta, she's trying to travel has ere. Could you keep an eye on her once she gets here, support her as best she can? She's lost a great deal of her family and has few close contacts here in the city."

Malcolm smiled. "Of course, I will."

Phlox nodded thoughtfully. "Thank you. And I hope it goes without saying, Malcolm, that I'm sorry for threatening to murder you, whatever the provocation."

"Of course, Phlox. I don't have nearly enough friends to lose them over silly things like murder threats."

Malcolm took his leave then, as Phlox was tired, and he allowed himself a small moment of self-congratulation that he'd managed to not bollocks that up too badly.

I'd give myself a solid B- for diplomacy there, he thought to himself.

The thought took on a horrible irony, barely a minute later, once he'd read the new orders contained in Archer's mysterious, second file.

The fly was back. It was rather a pretty one, a brilliant luminescent blue. And, while it was a slightly disconcerting sight in a medical ward - even a prison medical ward - it had so far had the good grace not to land on her. Its buzzing did keep her awake somewhat, but compared to the lights that were never off, it wasn't a large impediment.

Alice, she told herself firmly, do not name the fly. It's probably someone's escaped breakfast.

The problem was that she was shackled to a bed, and no one spoke to her, so there was precious little else to do...

...Apart from tentatively investigating just how badly she'd been injured, of course, and given how that had been going so far, well, she'd rather talk to the fly.

Susan, she decided. The fly's name is Susan.

"You look terrible!" somebody said. "Really, honestly terrible. I can't take my eye of you for five minutes, obviously."

Blearily, Alice turned her head.

Oh, of course, she thought. And then a moment later, Couldn't he have come a minute earlier, before I named the fly? Now, on top of everything else, I have to live with the fact that I'm the type of person who names flies.

She cautiously tested her voice. "You looked pretty terrible yourself, you know, after you got yourself blown up. I was just too polite to mention it. How did you get in here, anyway?"

Malcolm smiled. "I have terrifying new powers."

Alice assumed she'd misheard him. "Has nobody bothered to fix your arm yet? Surely they could have let one or two babies die in order to fit you in."

"No sense of priority, I suppose," he replied casually. "You'll just have to do it yourself."

Alice smiled. "Alas, no, I think. See, there are 27 bones in the human hand, and out of 54 bones all together, I estimate I've multiple fractures to 37 of them. I don't think I'm a surgeon anymore. This is really more the type of thing where, if I stick diligently to my physiotherapy, I'll be able to hold a pen by Christmas. And I think we both know I won't stick to my physiotherapy diligently. Unless prison is REALLY boring, that is."

"Oh, that's what you think," Malcolm smiled. "But the fact is, you aren't going to prison. Earth's new Ambassador to Denobula thinks that you being stuck on a planet with no whisky OR coffee is quite enough punishment, all things considered."

Alice blinked. "There's a new Ambassador? Just how long have I been here?"

"There is," Malcolm sighed. "And don't laugh, but it's me."

Alice did laugh. It hurt a lot. It was worth it.

"And you haven't even heard the best part, yet," Malcolm continued. "And, you really shouldn't laugh because this horror is happening to you too. Because the human embassy got blown up, we've been given rooms in the Vulcan Embassy! So, once I spring you, I'm dragging you back there, AND making you do your physiotherapy. Every day. Until you sorely regret every bowl of soup you ever brought me."

Alice shrugged, which also hurt. "You think I don't regret the soup already? Look at the state I'm in! Seriously though, Malcolm, you've got no obligations here."

"I really do, though, don't I? Aren't you here because of me?"

Alice didn't answer for a long moment, then she slowly shook her head. "After the Xindi attack, I was working in one of the hospitals. A lot of people died because there weren't enough of us. Or because we needed to eat and sleep occasionally. I've never really gotten over it. I'd have come down here for anyone."

"Anyone?" Malcolm asked raising his eyebrows. "Even for Baird? Or that MACO that keeps calling you 'Ginger'?"

"Yes, heaven help me, even them."

"Even Porthos?"

Alice smiled. "Oh, I'd save Porthos before I'd save you."

"Well, of course," Malcolm replied, smiling also. "That's just good career sense. And don't smile. It only makes you look worse."

"So that's it then, I think" Trip said. "Everything get down there okay?"

Malcolm had not asked for much to be sent down, actually. He'd claimed it was because he didn't want to subject his books and what not to whatever horrendous quarantine radiation would be required when he left, but Trip suspected it was a way of asserting that he would not be trapped on Denobula for long. Trip hoped he was right.

"Looks good, I think" Malcolm answered.

"Alice must have been glad about all the coffee we sent down for her," Trip observed by way of prolonging the conversation.

"Actually, I haven't told her yet. I'm being abandoned, you know. You have to let me have SOME fun."

"Well, okay," Trip said, letting just a hint of his emotion leak into his voice. "Try not to start a second war with Denobula, Your Excellency."

"Will do, Commander! Try not to die in the war without me."

"Yeah. See you soon, Malcolm."

"You too, Trip."

Trip cut the line and walked slowly back to his quarters.

T'Pol was there. "I thought you might need company," she said.

"Just make sure you scientists cure this thing, okay?" he said, collapsing into her arms with a sigh.

"It will remain a high priority, I'm quite sure."

They sat in silence for a moment.

"A baby and war," Trip said. "Truth is, I'm not sure which one is scarier."

T'Pol raised her eyebrows. "You are being illogical. The answer is obvious."

They folded their fingers together, and spoke at the same moment.

"The baby," they lied.

THE END

Thank you to all of the readers and reviewers who have shared this trilogy with me. Words can't express...

- MostDismalFeldsparkle