Return From Exile: Part 5

It was dark, and she was running, running for her life. She wasn't being chased, but she knew that if she didn't find what she was looking for, she would die. She ran into him then, he held her, and comforted her and soothed the fear away. He whispered words of love to her, told her he needed her. Her fears melting away, she looked up to his face, but saw Tarquin gazing back at her. His face seemed wrong, as if he had not been the one to comfort her just a moment before. She screamed and struggled against him, but he held her fast. The more she struggled the fiercer his grasp. She realized he would never let her go…


Captain Archer silently watched the scene in front of him, working to keep his own emotions under control. Hoshi lay on the bed, appearing lifeless except for the occasional grimace of pain that ghosted her face. Next to her sat Trip, holding one of her small hands between both of his own, occasionally squeezing it gently as he spoke in constant soft murmurs to her unconscious body.

Jon had been surprised as to the depth of Trip's response to Hoshi's condition, but felt that it was better not to stop his friend in the vigil he had chosen to keep in sickbay. He quietly retreated to where Phlox was working. "Any new information, Doctor?" he asked, only a slight unsteadiness in his voice betraying any worry.

Phlox did not even turn from the screen, he was examining it so intently. "Yes, I believe so," he answered, deep concentration knitting his features together. "It appears that I was correct about the stimulus to Ensign Sato's telepathic abilities – she did have a natural ability in that area, which is of course how Tarquin located her to begin with. Her exposure to such a strong telepath has pushed her own talents to new levels." He frowned as he turned to the Captain. "I read in her report that Tarquin helped her to concentrate using some sort of technique with a glass sphere."

"That's right," Jon answered, frowning. "Hoshi said that it was something Tarquin used to focus and amplify his abilities. She couldn't really explain what she had seen using it, though, she said she saw a jumbled collection of images. Is there some sort of connection?"

Phlox sighed as he turned back to the monitor. "I am not positive yet, but I believe so. It may be true that Hoshi was able to use the sphere as Tarquin claimed. However, I believe that her mind must have been extremely vulnerable to him at that moment, for she wrote that she had to 'open' her mind to use it at all. He could have used that momentary opening into her mind in some way that Ensign Sato was not aware of at the time."

"What did that maniac do to her?" a hoarse voice rasped behind them. Jon turned to Trip who had been standing behind them, listening to Phlox's diagnosis. "I'll go back there alone and kill him myself if I have to!" he raged, naked fury and grief plainly written on the engineer's face.

"Calm down, Trip," Jon answered, placing a restraining had on his upper arm. "Phlox isn't even finished explaining himself."

At a nod from the Captain, Phlox continued, directing his comments as much to Trip as he could, attempting to ease the man's agitation. "I have been examining Ensign Sato's scans over and over, and have come across an anomaly that I could not explain. It was so minute that I would never have noticed it had I not been looking so closely. I believe that Tarquin had been able to place a sort of 'suggestion' in Ensign Sato's subconscious mind."

"What kind of suggestion?" Jon immediately asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

Before the doctor could even respond that he could not know that from the scans alone, Trip broke in, in a voice as harsh as either of the others had ever heard from him. "To go to him," he said, shaking his head as he replayed that last terrifying scene with Hoshi in his mind. "He wanted her so badly that he was willing to drive her almost mad to get her, that bastard." He turned to stare at Hoshi's pale form on the bed. "He had her convinced that she was alone, that he was the only one who could possibly want her, love her, make her happy."

There was silence as the others soaked in what Trip had said, and to give him a moment to collect himself. I certainly didn't make it hard for him to use her, exploit her fears! Why didn't I tell her before? Why didn't I realize earlier what she meant to me? If only I had been braver… He finally expelled a long breath and looked to Phlox. "What can I do, doc?"

Phlox looked at him with sympathy. "As of right now, I cannot give an answer. We know too little of Tarquin himself and what he did to Ensign Sato. As far as I can tell, the suggestion itself has not caused the ensign's current illness: her current state appears to be a result of a combination of severe psychological stresses, and unfortunately, I do not have enough information on what those stresses are," he sighed and sadness entered his open face. "Unfortunately, Ensign Sato found a way to keep much hidden from me," he added, guilt creeping into his voice.

The doctor paused to place a reassuring hand on Trip's arm. The engineer tensed, automatically preparing for bad news. "Her brain wave activity is too erratic, and in trying to control it, I may do even more damage. It may be that we will not be able to anything for Hoshi except make her as comfortable as possible. I think that she herself must find a way out the maze her subconscious mind has created."

Trip soaked it all in, trying to appear strong, but Jon could see how desperation clouded his friend's eyes. He almost offered to go back to Tarquin's planet, to force the son of a bitch to free Hoshi from this trap. But he knew he couldn't, that the fate of too many – their entire planet – hinged on what they did here. They all knew that he couldn't. His gut tightened as he knew that speaking such reasons aloud would only make the situation worse. Trip just nodded at Phlox's words and went back to his vigil beside Hoshi's bed, smoothing the hair from her face, squeezing her hand, all the while a constant stream of soft murmurs passed from his lips to her ears.

After a few words to Phlox to keep him informed, Jon left sickbay to go to his cabin. How many sacrifices will we have to make? How many of my crew will I have to lose? Why did it have to be her? He had a bottle of scotch in his cabin, and knew that he would be drinking all of it before this was over.

She was no longer running in the dark. She sat at an opulent table, wearing a heavy red silk gown. Once again, she heard the whispers of love touching her soul. Her heart warmed as she felt her love returned with such passion. She smiled at the man across the table from her, his blue eyes mixed with mischief and passion. Suddenly, he changed, and his eyes reflected contempt. "Haven't you given up on this fantasy?" he snarled, even as the whispers continued. "What's it going to take for you to realize that this is never going to happen? As if I could be with someone like you."

"I told you," Tarquin said behind her. She spun around to find herself back in Tarquin's castle. "You belong with me."

"No!" she screamed, putting her hands over her ears, and the world receded around her…

She became immersed in an avalanche of images that swallowed her whole. She became the images, and the images became events, people, memories… She saw worlds being destroyed, millions of lives extinguished, she saw aliens that she knew were Xindi, though she also knew she had never seen them before. She saw a weapon being constructed, tested, deployed. She knew the fear and hate that had fueled its creation. Over and over the images came. "Stop! Stop!" she screamed again and again, but still they bombarded her

"These are my dreams, my nightmares," she told herself and remembered the first time she had seen them, when she had been awake. She had seen all this when focused on the Xindi weapon. With that understanding, new doors were opened: she knew she could discover so much more if she could just get back to where she was supposed to be. She could use this, to help those she cared about, those she loved…

The images stopped as a fierce roar of anger and jealousy rang in her ears. She found herself in the dark. She began to run, to run for her life. She wasn't being chased, but she knew that if she didn't find what she was looking for, she would die… She saw Tarquin gazing back at her. She screamed and struggled against him, but he held her fast. The more she struggled the fiercer his grasp. She realized he would never let her go…

A soft moan escaped from Hoshi's dry lips and her face was contorted into an anguished mask. How many hours had passed? Trip asked himself as he placed an ice chip against her lips. He was exhausted, but no one could have dragged him away. He silently berated himself again and again… He had known that there was something seriously wrong with Hoshi, but he had allowed embarrassment and pride to stop him from doing what he should have. "Never again, darlin," he murmured to her. "I'll never leave you again. You've been there for me through the worst, how could I not be there for you? Please forgive me for not letting you know earlier just how much you mean to me."

Tears shone in Trip's eyes as he grasped her small hand. His voice was ragged and weary from the constant stream of speech that had flown from his heart. He knew that Hoshi was more reserved about her deeper feelings – she doubtless would have been a little embarrassed about the things he had confessed to her as she lay there, but he was over and done with hiding how important she was to him.

Phlox hadn't said that Hoshi would hear his voice, but the doctor hadn't tried to stop him, either. The tiniest hope that she might hear his whispers were enough to keep him going. "I care about you Hoshi, I care more than I thought would be possible for me after all that I had lost." His voice choked and tears streamed openly down his face. He put his head down on the bed next to her own, burying his face in her thick black hair. "I love you Hoshi," he whispered into her ear, his voice thick with emotion. "Please come back to me."

She ran through the darkness again. How many times had this scene replayed, she could not say. "Come back to me…" She had heard those words ring in her mind so many times in the past weeks, and each time they had filled her subconscious with fear and revulsion and pity. She had in her deepest soul tried to fight against that call, to fight against the weapons that Tarquin had planted in her psyche to win her to his side. But he had been too clever, finding the weakest wall in her emotional defenses, that small opening that he could pry open and exploit. But this time the plea seemed different, as if it were linked to the constant whispers and murmurs of love that she had sensed since entering this horrifying place. Who was it? It wasn't Tarquin, she knew from how her mind hummed in a sort of deep pleasure. She forced herself to stop running and to really open herself up to the voice. She listened with her heart, and felt a spark of hope ignite within her.

"Yes," a voice interrupted her and she looked around to find herself once again in Tarquin's palace. He stood before her, a smile on his lips and his arms open in welcome. "It is me. You know I only want what is best for you, that your happiness is my only desire." He took a step closer to her, and she resisted the urge to run away again. "Why do you stay away from me? Return to me, and we will always be together, you will never be alone again."

"I'm not alone," she found the strength to respond; the hope in her heart had given her strength. "People care for me there. HE cares for me."

"You lie to yourself!" he snarled, grabbing her arms. "How could he care for you? You know now what you are. You belong with someone who understands you, someone just like you."

"NO!" she yelled with all her strength, finally understanding him. He wasn't really there, it was his last attempt to hold her, to plant these fears and sorrows within her. Yes, to tie one last thread to her mind and pull at it until she could no longer resist his specter in her head. But he had miscalculated badly – he had not known how strong she truly was. Maybe she hadn't known herself, until now.

She continued her attack. "You don't want to be with me, you want to own me, to dominate me. Why else would you be here? You weren't invited, you invaded! You say you love me, but to prove it, you have to make me feel worthless. How can that be love? It's twisted and sick and I see you for what you really are."

With each word, Tarquin stepped away from her, fading before her eyes. "Please," he pleaded with her one last time. "He will never need you like I do!"

She took a deep breath and acknowledged his words. "That may be true," she sighed. Trip may never love her the way she wanted him to, no matter how brightly that spark of hope shined in her heart. Tarquin's passion for her – as sick as it was – had been profound, and it was possible that no other man would ever feel as deeply for her as he had. "That may be true, but it doesn't change the fact that I will never need you."

As she spoke the words, he truly did fade away, as did the castle. She felt a strange sort of freedom, and found herself rushing forward and up, somehow floating back into herself. As she stepped back into her body, she heard his voice, the voice that had been her lifeline throughout the ordeal, though she had not realized it until that moment. The spark of hope grew into a flame.


Trip lifted his head from her bed as he felt her stir. He looked with frantic hope at her face as she slowly opened her eyes. He squeezed her hands as she focused on his face, the love shining so bright that it could not be denied. "Trip," she rasped out, a beautiful smile touching her lips.

"You came back to me," he whispered in awe, wonder and relief as his hands gently caressed her cheeks and brow.

"Yes, I came back to you," she answered, her heart glorying in the love she so clearly saw in his face. She allowed her own face to mirror that love to him, and a slow, pure smile of joy spread across his mouth. "And," she added, her own smile deepening, "to myself."