Chapter 5
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"Ah, Captain," said Phlox, "Thank you for responding so quickly." Healer T'Myr noted with interest that the Captain was not acknowledging the Doctor's niceties. Instead, brusquely, he said, "What is it? Is he - ?" He must be very worried about his Th'y'la, she surmised. T'Mara's crew had been warned by Ambassador Soval and other members of the Vulcan High Command that Jonathon Archer was irrational, illogical, stubborn, difficult and rude. Sometimes simultaneously. She had seen no evidence of this in her dealings with him. The same held true for Commander Tucker. The Ambassador was even more emphatic in his warnings about Enterprise's Chief Engineer; in Soval's opinion, not only did Charles Tucker III share all of his Captain's flaws, he had several of his own as well, most notably his vulgar and abusive language. Again, it appeared that the Ambassador's analysis was in error. A logical assumption would be that the Commander's current physical condition would only serve to exacerbate these negative character traits. But contrary to logic, the Commander was behaving with both patience and courtesy. He was often in pain, and was forced to endure the lack of privacy his treatment made necessary, along with all the attendant embarrassments and inconveniences such treatment entailed. Instead of shouting abuse, he had not even raised his voice. He was invariably polite and quietly submitted without any complaints to whatever therapy his caretakers deemed necessary. She found it all very curious, and wondered if she would be able to discuss these discrepancies in observational data with the other members of the Commander's team. Could the fact that she was female have something to do with his behavior? It would not make a difference to a Vulcan patient, but everyone knew humans had strange and illogical attitudes about relations between the sexes. She turned her attention back to the Captain and Dr. Phlox, and immediately noted that the doctor was unperturbed by the Captain's abrupt manner. Instead, he replied calmly, "He," referring to Commander Tucker, "is having bad dreams again. Very bad. He's awake right now, and I cannot convince him to return to sleep." "He won't take a pill, will he?" Phlox shook his head. Archer sighed. "And the dreams?" "The same." "Damn. It's a bloody albatross around his neck. Is it ever going to leave him alone?" And he headed over to the Commander without waiting for a reply. T'Myr was mystified. She did not understand the ornithological reference. It had no bearing that she could see on the Commander's current condition. The younger man was wide awake, lying tensely on his bed. His hands were clenching and unclenching the blankets compulsively, and his face was taut and drawn. Captain Archer sat beside his Th'y'la, took one of those clenched hands between his. "How you doing, Trip?" There was no answer. The Captain sighed. "I'm so sorry." T'Myr's confusion deepened, and she raised a brow in response. Why was the Captain sorry? Was he in some way responsible for the Commander's current distress? She looked to Phlox for clarification. She opened her mouth and was reasonably astonished when Phlox put his finger to his lips, indicating silence. When she had complied, he then spoke quite loudly to the Captain. "If you wouldn't mind, Captain – Healer T'Myr and I have not yet eaten ... " The Captain did not even glance in their direction; instead, he simply waved his free hand in dismissal. Walking along the corridor, she studied the Denobulan. He did not appear to be overly concerned about the lie he had just perpetuated on the Captain. He became aware of her scrutiny, and raised an inquiring brow. "You lied," she said. He did not answer as they entered the Mess. He picked up some tea, then guided her to an isolated table, where they could converse in relative privacy. As they sat, she repeated her statement. "You lied." He did not deny it. "I did indeed. And for a very good reason." "Which was?" "I knew that you had questions. Questions that I did not wish to answer in Commander Tucker's presence." "Why?" "Because the answers would only add to his distress." "I do not understand." "I'm not surprised." "What lies behind the Commander's emotional distress? What does a large seabird have to do with it? And why does Captain Archer feel guilty?" Phlox sighed. Vulcan literalness had struck once more. Patiently, he set out to explain. "In human myth, the albatross is a symbol of bad luck. To wear one around one's neck (in a figurative sense, of course) simply means you are a victim of continuing bad circumstances. And when the Captain said he was sorry to Commander Tucker, he was simply expressing his regret that the Commander has had to endure this discomfort." "And what precisely is this discomfort?" The doctor sighed again, then plunged on ahead. "Approximately 18 months ago, the Enterprise crew took shore leave in the Argadian system. Ah," he said, noting her frozen expression, "you have heard of it." "Yes." "Then you may have some idea of what I'm about to tell you." He took a sip of his tea. "During shore leave, Commander Tucker was accosted, drugged and abducted. He was then raped and subsequently sold as a slave to one of the High Houses on Tasumi." "A slave." "Actually, to be more specific, as a sex slave. He was purchased for the use of the Mistress of the house. After some weeks, during which he was forced to endure repeated assaults, the Commander attempted to escape. He was unsuccessful. He was apprehended. And punished. Severely." Up to this point, the doctor's voice had been cool and detached. Now a note of something – anger, perhaps – crept in. "For his punishment, he was gang-raped by the Lord's combat troops. In front of a cheering audience of household staff." He took another sip of his tea. "I understand that the Commander required intensive, round-the-clock nursing for more than a week following this incident. That, of course, was merely for the physical damage suffered." T'Myr sat, outwardly composed. Inwardly was another matter. She had to struggle to control her emotions. It took a long moment for her to find her centre, and then to acknowledge and finally destroy the outrage and revulsion that this information caused. But when she spoke, her voice was calm and steady. "How was he able to escape before the plague struck?" "He did not escape. Captain Archer, at great personal risk, rescued him. He led the Tasumis who were holding the Commander to believe that he, Jonathon Archer, was not a starship captain but in fact a mercenary, and that he was Commander Tucker's rightful owner. He was able to convince them that the Commander was his favorite love slave, and had been stolen from him. He was forced to go to great lengths to prove this to their satisfaction. Needless to say, it was difficult – and distasteful. Yet he managed. And so was able to bring the Commander back safely to Enterprise. "Why was the Commander allowed to remain on board?" "Why would he not?" "Surely after such an experience, he would be unable to function in any meaningful capacity." Phlox stared at her. "I'm afraid you're quite mistaken. It is true that it took him some time to recover, but once he did, he was totally capable of assuming his not-inconsiderable duties and responsibilities. And he has carried them out admirably." "Fascinating." "Why would you assume it to be otherwise?" The Vulcan put her elbows on the table, steepled her fingers together, and gazed at the ceiling for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. “I trust that anything I say to you will remain between us? As physicians?” Phlox nodded. “Absolutely.” She subjected him to another of those long, searching stares. Apparently, whatever she saw was deemed satisfactory, for she began to speak. “As you are no doubt aware, the Vulcan High Command recently uncovered and stopped a network of slave traders operating within this sector.” “Thanks in part to Commander Tucker.” “Ah. So he was the ‘unnamed informant’.” “He was.” After being rescued from Tasumi, Trip had described in detail to Captain Archer who had kidnapped him and the methods they used. The Captain in turn had passed this information along to Starfleet and the Vulcans, which then led to the capture and conviction of the brother-sister team who had been responsible for Trip’s abduction. These two were the first link in the chain. Using information obtained from the siblings, the Vulcans had been able to first infiltrate, then expose and finally end the slave trade network. “In addition to arresting those responsible,” T’Myr continued, “many of those who had been sold into slavery were rescued.” “I see.” “Numerous among them were Vulcan citizens.” She looked at Phlox. “Some of these – those who were used as laborers, administrators and similar types of work suffered little or no lasting effects from their captivity.” “But I’m assuming that there were others who were not so fortunate.” “Yes.” She took a breath. “They were those who were forced to serve in the same capacity as Commander Tucker. Apparently,” she added with rigid distaste, “Vulcan pleasure slaves were highly sought after ‘commodities’ in this market.” “I would imagine,” Phlox said quietly, “that such ‘services’ for a Vulcan would be difficult.” T’Myr nodded. “Indeed. I will speak frankly to you now, Doctor. To break down a Vulcan’s control to the extent that he or she would be able to perform such duties …” She paused, then continued. “We Vulcans are very proud of our logic. Of our ability to rise above base emotions. But those emotions still lie within. And the reality, Doctor, is that our proud civilized logic is but a thin veneer stretched over the savage inside. Strip the veneer away, and that monster emerges.” Phlox nodded. “I understand. I assume that all efforts to treat these unfortunates have not been entirely successful?” “They have been utter and abject failures,” T’Myr said with uncharacteristic bluntness. “We have attempted to use our usual method of treatment, which is to suppress the offending memories. I am not sure whether you are aware of this therapy.“ “I am. Subcommander T’Pol offered this option to Commander Tucker. He refused.” “Fascinating. Perhaps he was wise to do so. We have found that these particular memories reach so deep, and are so pervasive throughout the entire ego structure that it is impossible to suppress them all without severe damage to the patient’s psyche – damage that results in the patient being left either in a state of catatonia, or exhibiting symptoms of advanced senility. “However, if even fragments of these memories remain accessible to the patient, then the breakdown of the control and suppression of emotion also remains.” She exhaled, once. “Of course, we do the best we can for them, but these patients are extremely dangerous. Healers have been attacked. One was killed.” Phlox was astonished. “One Vulcan murdered another?” T’Myr nodded. “Of course the patient could not be held responsible. By all definitions, she was clinically insane at the time. Nevertheless, shortly following this incident, she took her own life. So, as you can imagine, we greatly desire some method of treating these patients that will bring them some measure of relief – and dare I say – peace.” “I understand completely.” “And since your Commander Tucker appears to have recuperated – at least to the point where he is able to function – “ “- Healer T’Myr,” Phlox interrupted. “I am not certain that Commander Tucker’s situation is in any way analogous to that of your patients. Humans do not suppress their emotions as Vulcans do. In very broad terms, the therapy used in such a situation is to teach the patient deal with the trauma and learn to come to terms with it. So I am not certain this would prove to be of any use to a Vulcan.” “Nevertheless, as a Healer, I am duty-bound to attempt it.” “I understand.” “Then may I speak to Commander Tucker about this matter? If I could speak to him about his own experiences, it may prove useful.” Phlox shook his head. “Not now. The reason these memories have surfaced in the first place is because the Commander is under severe stress.” “But you stated he was functioning.” “Yes, I did. But the trauma is still present. It re-emerges under stress in the form of bad dreams and depression. I cannot in good conscience allow you to increase that stress. It will affect his physical recovery.” “Even though it might aid others?” “I am not insensitive to the needs of these others that you mention, Healer. But right now, my first duty is to my patient.” “I see.” “Perhaps when the Commander’s physical condition improves, you may be able to speak with him. However, in the interim, I will ask the Commander if you may examine my notes on his treatment.” “Do you think he will consent?” “The Commander is a very ethical man. Despite his own distress, I believe that he will feel honor-bound to oblige you in this. And these notes may show you some possibilities that you had not considered.” “Very well, Doctor.” T’Myr still looked dissatisfied, but did not press the issue. “I think we had best return to our patient now.”* * *
Healer Vara greeted them absently as they entered Sickbay. He was studying read-outs on one of the computer screens. Phlox noted that curtains had been drawn around Trip’s bed, and raised a brow. “He is sleeping,” Vara said in answer to the unasked question. “The Captain finally managed to get him to sleep.” “I see,” Phlox said. He walked over to the curtained-off area, and stepped inside to find the Captain sitting, holding Trip’s hand. Archer looked up at Phlox’s entrance. “Finally managed to get him to sleep,” he said in a low voice, unwittingly echoing Vara. “Wasn’t easy.” “I’m sure that you are the only person who could get him to sleep at all.” “Thanks.” He idly stroked the younger man’s hair. “Doc,” he said worriedly, “I think that he’s feeling worse than he’s telling us. But I can’t get him to admit it.” Healer Vara came through the curtains at this. “I may have a solution.” “And that is?” Phlox asked. “A telepathic scan.” Archer shook his head. “No,” he said decisively. “Trip will never consent. Having a stranger poke around in his head, reading his mind, knowing his thoughts? There’s no way he’ll allow it.” “I would not read his thoughts. The scan would entail a light ‘touch’, for lack of a better word. It would allow me to pick up on his physical and emotional feelings. It would go no deeper than that. In fact, I doubt that the Commander would even be aware of it.” The Captain looked doubtful, and appealed to Phlox. “Doc?” “I think any information would be helpful, Captain.” Trip chose this moment to awake. He sighed and looked up at Archer. “Jon?” He looked around at the gathered physicians. “What’s going on?” “Nothing serious.” Archer smiled at him, stroked his hair. “You’re supposed to be asleep, brat.” “Sorry.” “It’s all right,” the Captain told him. Maybe it’s just as well. Dr. – I mean, Healer – Vara would like to do a scan on you.” Trip looked puzzled. “Must be more to it than that,” he said. “Otherwise why bother asking me?” “It’s a telepathic scan.” The engineer reacted precisely the way Archer had predicted. He tensed, visibly, and shook his head. “Sorry. No way. I’d like some privacy, if you all don’t mind. I’d like what’s inside my head to stay there.” “I would not be reading your thoughts, Commander,” Vara assured him. “The scan would not go that deep. You would not even be aware of any contact.” “Then why bother?” “Such a scan can often give us information that purely mechanical ones cannot.” Trip sighed, looked at Archer. “Jon?” “It’s up to you.” “And if I say no?” “Then that’ll be the end of it,” Archer said, with a meaningful glance at the others. “It’s your choice. I mean it.” Trip sighed. Archer smiled, stroked his hair. “What do you think, brat?” “I guess,” the engineer finally said reluctantly. “Okay. And if at any time it gets too much, you just holler and it’ll stop. Right?” And Archer looked up at Vara. “Of course,” the Vulcan said. “Shall I proceed?” “Now?” Trip asked. “Don’t you have to prepare? Meditate?” Vara shook his head. “Not for this.” Archer took Trip’s hand. “Hold onto me, brat. Close your eyes and try and relax.” “Okay,” Trip whispered. His hand tightened weakly around Archer’s and he closed his eyes. “Go ahead.” Vara closed his eyes in turn, took several deep breaths. Then he lightly touched Trip’s forehead, his fingertips barely brushing the younger man’s temple. Trip exhaled, and Vara removed his hand. “Go ahead,” Trip repeated. “I have finished,” Vara replied. Trip’s eyes flew open. His expression of surprise was so comical that Archer couldn’t suppress his laughter. Trip managed a smile. “That didn’t hurt at all.”
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