The sound of his com, sharp and insistent, broke into Archer's sleep.  He sat up.  "Archer."  He kept his voice low, hoping not to waken Trip.

T'Pol's clear, dry tones responded.  Of course, he thought.  The Vulcan only required four hours sleep a night (if that) and so could often found on the bridge at all hours of the night.  "I apologize for waking you, Captain.  But there is a ship heading on an intercept course.  It is a Tasumi vessel."

Damn.  "Very well, Subcommander.  I'll be right there."  He broke the connection and turned to find Trip was wide awake and listening.  "You don't have to –"

" – Yes, I do," Trip interrupted.  He got out of bed.  "Let's go."

Despite himself, Archer smiled.  "You going to go like that?"  Trip looked down at himself.  He was naked.  Again.  "Unless of course," Archer added, "you want to give the crew something to talk about."

Trip gave him an impudent grin.  "Hate to break it to you," he said, "but you and I are old news."

Archer began to get into his uniform.  "Really?"

Trip, also dressing, nodded.  "Yep.  The latest item of interest is Hoshi and Cunningham.  Guess more than dinner is cooking in the Galley."

Archer did not ask Trip how he knew.  The engineer had his sources, and they were always reliable. 

"It's interesting, though," Trip mused as he pulled on his boots.  "I mean, so far as I know, no one who was at that meeting said anything about what I told Forrest and Soval.  And yet somehow, the whole damn ship knew.  Hell, Travis was even laying bets as to when we'd get together."

"You okay with that?"  Trip was a private individual, and Archer wondered how the younger man felt about the crew engaging in such speculations. 

Trip shrugged.  "Kind of hard to keep something like a secret on a ship like this.  And no one gives me a hard time about it.  Fact is, I think everyone is actually pretty pleased about the whole thing."

"How nice of them," Archer said dryly.

"Isn't it?" Trip replied, equally dryly, and followed his Captain out the door.

*  *  *

Faces around the display table were grim.  Even T'Pol looked faintly upset, which was the Vulcan equivalent of going on a crying jag in public.

"Opinions?" Archer asked.

"It is difficult to know exactly how to proceed," T'Pol replied.  "The readings from the Tasumi vessel are of little use, due to the interference from the nearby pulsar.  We have no way of knowing if anyone onboard is still alive."

"No response?"

Hoshi shook her head.  "I'm continuing to send messages on all frequencies, Captain.  No response."

"That would appear to rule out anyone being alive over there," Reed said.

"Not necessarily," was Phlox's response.  "They may be too ill to respond."

"Or their communications array may be too badly damaged," Hoshi added.  "It looks like they may have been fired on."

"Or been hit by meteorites."  Reed was obviously a member of the no-survivors faction.

"Regardless," said Phlox, "we must ascertain whether there are any survivors.  If there are, we must render any assistance we are capable of."

"I agree," said Archer.  "But I will not endanger Enterprise or any of my crew to do so.  How do we go about it, then?"

"It's obvious," Phlox replied.  "We must board the Tasumi ship."

"But we don't know if the virus is still active," Reed pointed out.  "And if it is, we don't know if it will jump species."

"What about the EV suits?"  Hoshi asked.  "They'd protect anyone who went over there, wouldn't they?"

"But the suits themselves might become contaminated," Reed said.  "We'd have to destroy them, just to be on the safe side.  And the slightest error could result in Enterprise becoming a plague ship."

"If the virus jumps species," Phlox argued.  "It may not."

Reed shook his head.  "Considering the sloppy bio-engineering that went into its creation, I wouldn't count on that, Doctor.  The damned thing has probably already gone through 2 or 3 mutations.  Who knows what it's capable of by now?"  He looked at Archer.  "From a tactical point of view, sir, sending someone over there – "

"- Why bother?"  It was the first time Trip had spoken, and all heads swiveled to look at him.

"Are you suggesting we do nothing, Commander?" T'Pol asked.

"I understand that you may have a different perspective, based on your rather unfortunate experiences on Tasumi," Phlox began, "but I still find it difficult to believe that you would – "

"- You don't understand at all," Trip replied impatiently.  "And I'm not suggesting that we sit on our hands, either," he told T'Pol.  "But I agree with Malcolm.  We shouldn't risk any personnel until we know there's something over there worth risking them for."

"Go on, Trip," Archer said.  "What do you have in mind?"

"Simple," said Trip.  "We send a probe.  Beam it over.  Let it snoop around.  If there is anyone alive over there, the probe will find them."

"All our probes are atmospheric ones," T'Pol pointed out.

"I'm aware of that," Trip snapped.  "My brains haven't become completely addled yet, you know."

"Commander," Archer said, warningly.

"Sorry, sir.  Subcommander.  But we can modify one easily.  Add a camera, some wheels, remote control, and we're off to the races."

"How long?"

"To modify it?  Couple of hours.  Less if I have help."

"Go ahead, then, Commander.  Take whoever and whatever you need to get the job done.  As far as I'm concerned, this takes priority."

"Yes, sir.  Malcolm?  I could use your help."

"Of course, Commander."

"I will begin the remote control program," T'Pol said formally.

"Thank you, Subcommander," Trip replied, equally formal.  "You can bring it down to Engineering when you're done."

T'Pol bowed her head slightly.  "Very well."

*  *  *

"Hand me that spanner, will you, Mal?"

"Sure.  Here you go."

"Thanks."  Trip was silent for a moment, concentrating on adjusting the hydraulics he had installed on the axles supporting the probe's new wheels.

He sat back, grunted.  "Well, it sure as hell won't win any beauty contests."

Trip's assessment was correct.  The probe looked like a violent collision between a wagon and a small rocket.  A camera sat, precariously balanced on its nose, while the ungainly remote control unit was welded to the back.  A large sensor array in the middle, comprised of a number of spiky antennae, resembled a web spun by a mentally defective spider.

"I have to agree," Reed said with a smile.  "But if it works, then its looks won't matter."  He looked sideways at Trip.  "This must be strange for you."

Trip arched an eyebrow at him.  "How so?"

"Well, I mean – those are Tasumi over there.  And considering what happened to you ... " He sighed.  "You know."

"I sure do."

"Sorry," Reed said contritely.  "Bloody hell.  It's so hard."

Trip sighed.

"I'm sorry," Reed repeated.  "I just don't know what to say to you."

"Go ahead and say it, Mal.  It's only a word.  Rape.  I was raped.  There.  Easy.  See?"

"It's not easy," Reed said.  "What happened to you was a crime!  I can't just brush it off!"

Trip looked at him.  "What do you want me to say?"  he demanded angrily.  "That's it's hard for me?  Okay, it is.  That I can still see people looking at me and then look away?  'Cause they do.  That sometimes, I feel like I'll never be clean again?  I still do – and it happened months ago.  That I still have nightmares?"

Reed was silent.  Trip sighed.  "I'm sorry.  I shouldn't take it out on you."

Reed smiled.  "If not me, then who?"

Trip smiled in return.  "Thanks," he said, then sobered. "I've been talking to Phlox until I'm blue in the face, and there are days when I feel it hasn't done me a damn bit of good."

"You're back to work," Reed pointed out.  "You're keeping busy with all your projects during off-hours, too.  And then –"

"And then what?"

Reed actually blushed very slightly.  "Never mind."

Trip peered at him curiously.  "What?"  When Reed did not answer, he added, "Come on, Mal.  I've already admitted that I've been raped.  What could be worse than that?"

"Well, you and the Captain ... "  Reed looked up, expecting to see Trip glaring at him for treading on such personal territory.  Instead, he found the engineer was calmly looking back at him.

"Me and Jon.  Yeah.  There is that, too."  He smiled slightly.  "I've never asked you what you think about it."

"It's not really my place to say, is it?"

"Bull.  We're friends, aren't we?  So who better to offer an opinion?"

Reed did not answer.  Instead, he looked at his feet.  Trip stared at him in surprise.  "You have a problem with it?  I have to say, Mal, I would never thought you of all people would disapprove."

"No, no, no," Reed said hastily.  "I don't.  Not at all."

"You don't sound very convincing," Trip told him.

Reed sighed.  "I'm afraid anything I say will affect our friendship."  He looked at Trip.  "I really don't disapprove.  In fact ... oh, bloody hell!"

Trip gaped for a moment, then comprehension dawned.  "Oh ... Mal, I'm sorry."

Reed shrugged.  "I couldn't compete with the Captain.  All those years, all that history you two have..."  He tried to smile.  "The best man won, that's all there is to it."

For the first time since he'd met Trip, the engineer was speechless.  Finally, he shook his head.  "I didn't have a goddamned clue," he said softly.  "I must be as thick as a brick."  He sighed.  "I'm sorry.  Really, Mal."

"Don't be."

Trip smiled slightly.  "I'm flattered, you know.  But now I understand why you've been so flustered every time you're around us.  And here I thought it was just Jon's rank that had you uncomfortable."

"Well, it has been difficult for me.  But you know," Reed added thoughtfully, "it's actually kind of a relief to tell you.  Now that you know, maybe I'll be able to get over it.  Move on."

"Hey," said Trip, "I hope that 'moving on' doesn't mean moving on past our friendship.  I'd hate to lose that."

Reed smiled.  "So would I."

Trip sighed in relief.  "Good."  He extended his hand.  "Friends?"

Reed took it.  "Friends."  He smiled again.  "And if you and the Captain ever – "

Trip grinned.  "I'll keep your offer in mind.  But don't hold your breath, okay?"

Reed grinned back, put his other hand over Trip's.  "Thanks."

They smiled at each other.  A discreet cough caused both to jump.  They looked over to see Subcommander T'Pol's even gaze upon them.

"Excuse me," she said calmly, "Am I interrupting something?"

*  *  *

"That should do it," Trip said.  "We'll make a few trial runs just to be sure, but I think this baby is ready to go."

"I agree," T'Pol said.  "And I congratulate you on finding a logical solution to a difficult problem.  Especially considering – "

Trip sighed.  "Not you, too." 

"Commander?"

"You going to remind me of what I already know?"

"Which is?"

"That I went through hell on Tasumi and it must be difficult for me to deal with this," Trip recited in a sing-song voice.  He looked at her, and his voice returned to normal.  "Believe me, Subcommander, I'm well aware of all of that."

One cool eyebrow was raised.  "Indeed."

"You bet your ass indeed."

Her eyebrow went up again, but she did not respond directly.  Instead, she fixed him with an even gaze.  "Commander.  May I ask you a question?"

"Oh, why the hell not?  You and everybody else."

"You sound irritable."

"Well, good.  'Cause I am.  Mind you, I don't expect you of all people to understand why.  But this whole situation – it's brought up a lot of memories I would just rather not deal with."

"Precisely.  Why?"

"What?"

"To specify – you remember the course of action I suggested?"  At his nod, she continued.  "Then I am at a loss as to understand why you have not taken my offer."

He looked at her, considering.  "I thought about it.  A lot.  And I really do appreciate the offer.  But somehow – it just didn't seem right.  I know that's not logical, but no one's ever accused me of being overly logical."

"Indeed," she said dryly.

"That sounded like a shot," he accused.

"I was merely agreeing with your statement."

"Yeah, right."  He sighed.  "But that's the God's honest truth, Subcommander.  I just didn't feel right about it.  Still don't."

"Even in this situation?"

"Especially in this situation."

She raised her brow again.  "I doubt that I will ever understand you, Commander."

"Join the crowd."  He grinned.  "I wouldn't worry about it too much.  I don't understand myself most times, so why should you?"

*  *  *

Silence on the bridge.

The pictures being broadcast from the Tasumi ship were gruesome, to say the least.  Archer sat in the centre chair, working hard to keep his face expressionless.  Hoshi and Travis both looked shell-shocked.  T'Pol appeared intent on taking other readings off of her console, but Archer suspected that this was merely a convenient ruse in order to avoid looking at those disturbing images on-screen.  Even such battle-hardened veterans as Phlox and Reed looked stunned, and in Reed's case, slightly ill.

The only person on the bridge not reacting was Trip.  The engineer was standing near his station, looking intently at the floor, his expression as smooth and blank as a doll's face.  It was frighteningly similar to the one he wore when Archer first saw him on Tasumi, and to Archer, this was almost as disturbing as the images he was being forced to watch.

"Is that it?" he finally asked.

"Yes," said T'Pol quietly.

"Doctor?"

"Obviously, there are no survivors."  Phlox's normally cheerful sing-song was somber; a funeral dirge for those aboard the doomed ship.

"And the ship itself."

"Infected," Phlox said grimly.  "The virus is still present and active on the ship's surfaces.  The readings show saturation levels.  Obviously, this pathogen is extremely hardy."

"A plague ship," Archer said grimly.  "There's only one thing to do, then."

"Aye, sir," Reed replied, equally grim.  "Targeting."

"External view," Archer ordered.

They watched in silence as the torpedoes streaked towards the dead ship; watched their impact; watched the engines bloom in an explosion; watched as the plasma ignited the internal atmosphere, searing the hull; watched the ship turned funeral pyre burn and disintegrate until nothing was left.

Archer finally broke the silence.

"Hoshi, notify Fleet and the Vulcan High Command.  Send copies of the relevant log entries, and my recommendation that Commander Tucker's method be used when encountering any Tasumi ships."

"Aye, sir."

Archer beckoned to Phlox.  The doctor made his way down to the centre chair, held a whispered conversation with the Captain.  He nodded, then silently exited the bridge.

"Commander," Archer said to Trip.

"Sir?"

"I would like you to compose a report regarding the modifications you made to our probe.  I would imagine that Fleet – and the Vulcans – will want all the details."

"Yes, sir.  I'll start right now."

He watched as Trip left the bridge.  Once the engineer was gone, he turned back to the now-empty viewscreen.

"Travis."

"Sir?"

"Let's get the hell out of here."

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