The BLTS Archive - Shekan
by C.J.(mochachill2k2@hotmail.com)

---

Disclaimer: Star Trek is owned by Paramount; no copyright infringement
is intended. Just borrowing them!

When it is dark enough, you can see the stars. Charles A. Beard

The place to be happy is here, the time to be happy is now. Robert
Ingersoll

---
Chapter 1
---

Light. Hoshi Sato stirred in her bed just long enough to bury her face
in her pillow. She tried to ignore the cheerful humming grating
against her sensitive eardrums.

"Malcolm, if you don't shut up and get that light out of my face, now,
I'm going to hurt you. A lot."

A weight bounded onto the bed beside her, jarring her. She grunted in
annoyance.

"Oh, come on, luv. It's a beautiful morning—and I'm glad to see you."

"We're in space. Every morning looks the same—just like the night
before. Now go away and send back the Malcolm that I love—quiet
Malcolm."

Malcolm chuckled and planted a kiss on the top of her head. She raised
her head just enough to squint one eye at him. "God, how could I fall
for a morning person?"

"Easy darling. I wore you down. Four years at space, in close quarters
with a man of my charm and dashing good looks. It was bound to
happen." Hoshi snorted. He continued, "Now you really should get up.
We've dropped out of warp, which can only mean that we've arrived at
Massum. The landing party will be disembarking soon."

He stood up then and moved to the mirror, checking his already
meticulous appearance. Hoshi dropped her head back down, relishing the
feel of the soft cotton pillowcase against her face. Malcolm's bed
really was much more comfortable than hers. Before she could drift
back off again, she drug herself into a sitting position, swinging her
feet onto the floor. Malcolm turned to look at her, grimacing.
"Someone looks as though she had a rough night," he teased, softening
the jibe with a grin.

Hoshi didn't return the smile. She stood, eyeing him darkly as she
shuffled across the room and into his washroom. She turned on the
water and stepped gratefully into the shower. Outside, Malcolm was
humming again.

"Malcolm?! Could you grab me some shampoo? This one's empty."

"Really? I just used it today. . . " She heard him digging through a
cabinet, then his voice got closer. "Here you go." He opened the
shower door slightly, holding out a bottle of shampoo. When she didn't
take it immediately, he opened the door wider and looked in. "Here it
is, Hoshi. . . HOSHI!"

He yelped when her hand closed firmly around his wrist and she yanked
him under the water stream with her, fully dressed in his uniform.
"Hoshi! I've just gotten dressed. . . now look at me. Why did you do
that?" Hoshi laughed loudly, maintaining her grip on Malcolm even as
he tried to escape. She wrapped her arms around his waist. "You're
right. It was very wrong of me. I guess I'll just have to make it up
to you," she said huskily.

Malcolm took in her wet hair and slick, bare skin. He stopped
struggling and smiled a little. "Well, I guess if you were very, very
sorry, I could be persuaded to forgive you. . . "

"Oh I am," Hoshi said silkily, reaching for the zipper on his uniform.
"Very, very, very sorry."

---

"Ow," Trip Tucker hissed. Hoshi, looking straight ahead and smiling
brightly, said softly, "Commander, you are going to insult our hosts."

Trip snorted. For the past two hours they had been enduring a tour of
Timral, the capital city on the planet Massum. Well, he was enduring
it, while Hoshi, the Captain, and T'Pol listened to their Jafari guide
with great interest. Malcolm and Travis, lucky bastards, had headed
back to Enterprise hours ago, to would gather and bring back a load of
medical supplies for their new acquaintances.

This was the first trip humans or Vulcans had made to Massum, and
admittedly their ancient culture was interesting. But Trip got into
this business for adventure—and he did not consider staring at dusty
artifacts and ancient buildings adventurous. Listening to the guide
lecture, he had yawned widely just before Hoshi jabbed him sharply in
the ribs.

"This guy's been dronin' on 'bout these carved stairs for fifteen
minutes." Trip whispered back. "And we haven't even gotten to the
temple where the stairs actually lead." They were nice stairs, he
supposed, but cutting steps outta rock was no great feat of
engineering. Warp five, now that's a great feat of engineerin', he
thought fondly. He was just beginning to daydream about his warp core
when the guide's voice pulled him back. "Now we will move up to the
Temple of Keyia."

"Crap. There's gotta be two hundred stairs here," Trip complained. His
whispering earned him a look from the Captain, and he shut his mouth
while they trekked up the hillside to the temple. By the time they
reached the top, the humans were all gasping. While they caught their
breath, they looked up at the face of the temple, slightly awed. Like
the stairs, it had been carved into the mountainside rather than
constructed. The face of the temple was elaborately decorated with
intricately carved pictures—people, animals, plants, and landscapes.

"It reminds me of the doors that led into the mountain in Lord of the
Rings, " Jon remarked.

"'Cept we don't need a password," Trip answered with a smile,
indicating the open doors.

T'Pol and the Jafari looked at them blankly. "An old Earth fairy
tale—a legend," Hoshi explained. They both nodded, satisfied by the
explanation. The Jafari indicated that they should follow him inside.

A squat statue sitting directly before the doorway guarded the
entrance, face locked in a hideous grimace. "Well, ain't he pretty?"
Trip murmured to his human comrades. Hoshi and Jon chuckled at the
distasteful face Trip made as they passed the statue. Inside, the
structure was a series of back-to-back rooms, leading into the
mountain. Each room was lit by a bluish light source. As they moved
through the rooms, the Jafari began to explain the history of the
temple.

"Eons ago, the Jafari worshipped Keyia as the God of Union and
Fertility. Presumably, they built this structure in his honor.
Unfortunately, we know very little about the era now. The temple alone
is so old that there is no record of its construction in our history."

"There is no mention of it in your ancient writings?"

"Actually, Subcommander, our history is preserved orally. Each
generation commits it to memory, in its entirety, so that we may pass
it on to the next. The tradition is essential to our culture; we have
upheld it even after we developed a written language."

Trip whistled, impressed. He thought of his own history courses—he
could barely remember a few dates, like First Contact. He glanced at
Hoshi. She looked enthralled by this new information.

The Jafari continued, "Several legends about the temple do remain." He
stopped before an unusual stone structure in the center of the third,
and last room. "This is the Sh'ron. It is said that Keyia used the
Sh'ron to judge the validity of each union. The couple who wished to
join stepped into the chamber, and if the pairing was approved, they
received a gift."

"A gift? What sort of gift?"

"The legend is vague about the gift itself."

"What happens if the pairing wasn't approved?" Hoshi asked curiously.

"According to the legend, the couple would be consumed, their essences
surrendered to Keyia." At Hoshi's disturbed face, the Jafari smiled.
"The Jafari have long since abandoned those beliefs, Ensign Sato. We
are a people of science; these legends are merely stories, created by
our superstitious predecessors. Do not allow them to trouble you."

Jon smiled and patted Hoshi's shoulder. "Nothing to worry about,
Hoshi."

"Yes, sir," she muttered, embarrassed. The rest of the party moved off
to a beautiful carving on the wall, depicting the local landscape from
long before the city was built. Hoshi started to follow but Trip,
bored out of his gourd, caught her arm.

"Hey, it's kinda like 'The Mouth of Truth' from Roman Holiday. Ya
know, put your hand in the mouth and if you're a liar, the sculpture
will bite it off."

Hoshi pulled a face. "I always hated that story."

"Aw now, c'mon Ensign. I dare you to try it with me. Who knows, maybe
we're meant for each other." He wiggled his eyebrows at her and
grinned charmingly. "Course, poor Malcolm'll have to step aside. . .
we could always fix him up with T'Pol?" At Hoshi's annoyed look, he
tried again, "Name our firstborn after him?" He pulled her arm again.
"All right, I'm kiddin'. But c'mon. I double-dog dare you—you can't
turn that down and still keep your honor."

Hoshi laughed. "You're on, Commander. But you should know ahead of
time that I prefer pink roses and I always sleep on the left side of
the bed," she added flippantly. "Ask Malcolm—I'm not an easy woman to
please."

Trip chuckled, enjoying the little sparring session. Hoshi was often
too reserved in his opinion, although it made her a perfect match for
Malcolm. Her sillier side rarely came out around Trip, even after all
of their years of working together—he suspected he made her a little
nervous.

A glance over his shoulder confirmed that T'Pol and the Captain were
engrossed in their guide's description of the pictures carved into the
walls.

"Ok then." He held out his open hand, palm up, to Hoshi. She chuckled
and slipped her fingers into his. Together, they walked up two steps
and moved into the chamber. It was a little smaller than it looked;
they found themselves wedged in, face to face. "Man, I guess there
weren't a lotta fat Jafaris." They both looked up at the opening in
the top, squinting against the blue light, and turned their gaze back
down.

Trip became conscious of her scent, mingled with the dust of the
chamber. He looked down at the top of her head. Hoshi giggled
nervously. "I was expecting some sort of glowing light to surround us
or a big booming voice. Well, Commander, looks like it just wasn't
meant to be. . . " Her voice trailed off as she raised her eyes to
meet his. Her smile faded when she saw the sudden seriousness of his
face. He was looking at her very intently. Their eyes locked.

Hoshi's eyes moved to the side. "Did you hear that?" she asked. Her
normal tone broke the spell. Trip inched back, grateful, and shook his
head. "Hear what?" Hoshi tilted her head, listening. After hesitating
a millisecond, she shook her head. "Nothing, it's gone now." She
looked back up at him. "I guess we should get back."

"Right. Don't wanna miss anything—I bet there are thousands of
fascinating staircases in this city," Trip joked awkwardly. He
squeezed back against the warm stone, allowing Hoshi to step outside
before joining her. They both looked around expectantly. The Captain
and the rest of the group were nowhere in sight. "Great, this oughta
be good for a 10 minute lecture from T'Pol," Trip muttered. "Let's try
and catch up."

The two moved quickly back through the temple, still with no sign of
their party. "I guess they went ahead without us," Hoshi said,
puzzled. Trip led the way through the enormous doors. The sight of the
hilly landscape brought them up short. Trip looked back quickly,
thinking they had made a wrong turn and found a new exit. But no,
there was that ugly-ass statue. He turned back, taking in the scene
that Hoshi was now gaping at. The city was gone. As far as they could
see, there was nothing but trees, fields, and rocks.

"Uh-oh."

---

Captain Archer looked around him subtly. Although he was making a
better effort to hide it, he was as bored as Trip. He glanced behind
him just in time to see Hoshi and Trip slip into the chamber,
disappearing from sight. 'Oh, no you don't. If I gotta endure this, so
do you old buddy.' "Excuse me for just a moment," he said, smiling
politely at the guide. The guide didn't even pause in his droning. Jon
walked back to the chamber. "All right you two, I'm not doing this
alone. . . " His smile faded as he reached the chamber entrance. The
chamber was empty.

---
Chapter 2
---

Hoshi and Trip exchanged worried glances. Trip pulled out his
communicator. "This is gonna be real embarassin' if we're just lost,"
he remarked before speaking into it. "Tucker to Archer." Silence.
"Tucker to T'Pol."

Hoshi was starting to look very worried. "Where could they be?"

Trip tried again. "Tucker to Enterprise." When no one answered the
hail, he gestured to Hoshi. "Try yours, maybe mine's malfunctionin'."

Hoshi nodded and took it out. "Sato to Archer. Captain, can you hear
me?" Again, no response, just faint static. "I don't understand it,
sir. It's like. . . no one's there."

Trip was looking past her. "Well, maybe I see some answers comin'." A
lone figure was moving towards them from the base of the steps,
struggling under the weight of a heavy basket. As the individual
approached, they recognized her as a Jafari from the distinct ridges
along her cheekbones and jaw. They knew too little about the Jafari to
guess her age, but she looked to be in her late twenties. Her dark
brown hair swung free to her hips, and she was wearing a beautiful,
loose-fitting brown dress embroidered elaborately in shades of gold,
green and brown.

She glanced up at them for the first time about halfway up the stairs,
and her footsteps faltered momentarily. Then her face lit with a smile
and she doubled her efforts, rushing up to them. "Greetings!" she
called excitedly. She came directly to them, panting with exertion.
Trip instinctively reached out and took the basket from her. She
beamed at him, dark eyes shining. "My thanks. My heart warms to see
you, friends. It has been long since we have seen shekan."

"Shekan?" Hoshi repeated, intrigued by a word that the translator
couldn't identify.

"Yes," the woman responded, then frowned. "Are you injured?" She
reached out and touched Hoshi's cheek gently.

"Injured?" Trip said, confused.

"Oh! No," Hoshi assured her. "We aren't injured. We're from a
different place—we were born like this." The woman looked perplexed,
but seemed willing to accept their explanation for the lack of ridges
on their faces.

"Listen," Trip interrupted. "Can you tell us where we are? I think
we're a little lost."

"No."

"No?" Trip repeated, thinking that they wouldn't get far if he just
kept repeating everything she said.

"No," the woman said, smiling gently. "You are not lost." She took the
basket from Trip and hurried past them into the temple. Before they
could move, she reappeared without the basket, moving between them and
taking their hands. "Come."

Hoshi looked at Trip, and he shrugged as if to say, 'Got any better
ideas?'  They allowed the woman to lead them down the steps.

---

As they walked, still hand in hand, the woman introduced herself as
Mila. "And what are your names?"

"My name is Hoshi, Ensign Hoshi Sato. And this is Commander Tucker."

"Call me Trip," Trip said absently, trying in vain to see something he
recognized, which might help them find their way back. All he could
see were the enormous trees that this planet favored—larger than
redwoods, he mused. "Wher're we goin'?"

"To the village. Everyone will be so very happy to meet you. Keyia has
shown us favor again." At that, Trip and Hoshi exchanged worried
glances again. That moment, they came into sight of Mila's village. As
one, they pulled up short, catching Mila off guard. Trip reached out
to steady her, still gazing at the village.

It was made, literally, of the trees. Each home was carved directly
into the base of a huge tree. Gnarly roots had been shaped outside
each home to make seats, tables, even crude looms. More Jafari moved
about the forest floor, attending to daily tasks. They hadn't yet
noticed Mila and her companions.

Mila got them started again with a gentle tug. As they came to and
entered the village, the other Jafari began to notice them and dropped
their tasks. Each person smiled broadly as they formed a crowd that
trailed behind the threesome. Finally, Mila led them into a large
clearing in the center of the village. Light spilled down on them from
the opening in the trees. She walked to the center of the clearing,
where a large fire pit was dug out. She turned Trip and Hoshi to face
the crowd, smiling.

"Shekan!" She cried triumphantly, lifting her hands.

"Shekan. . . " A whisper started through the crowd, soon becoming a
roar. The Jafari laughed and cheered, surging forward around them. The
force of the crowd separated Trip and Hoshi—the adult male Jafari were
packed around Trip, crowing and slapping him on the back. Some even
embraced him, which really made him ill at ease.

"Hoshi!" he yelled, trying to see her. He heard an answering cry of
"Trip!" She sounded borderline frantic and he fought through the crowd
to reach her. Suddenly, the Jafari stopped pushing him, and stepped
back. At the end of a tunnel of Jafari, he could see Hoshi, surrounded
by the female Jafari. He and Hoshi moved together quickly, to the
apparent approval of the Jafari. 'Ok, enough's enough,' he thought.

He grabbed Hoshi's arm, pulling her closer to him, and sought out
Mila. Seeing her, he demanded, "I want to know where we are and what's
goin' on, right now. We're from the Starship Enterprise, from Earth.
We need to get back to our people."

"We are your people now." A woman in a green dress, looking to be in
her forties, stepped forward. When Trip and Hoshi just stared at her,
she explained, "You are Shekan. You home is with us."

"No. We need to return to our people and Enterprise," he insisted.
Hoshi placed a hand on his arm, stepping forward.

"We are here by mistake," she told the woman. "We stepped into the
Sh'ron, and suddenly we were here. We just need you to tell us how to
get back."

The woman looked confused, and she shook her head, long blond hair
swinging. "Back? You cannot go back; the Sh'ron has chosen." She
smiled. "Do not look so worried, friends. You will be happy. You will
be together."

---
Chapter 3
---

Hoshi and Trip sat close together huddled near a fire. Evening had
long since fallen, and the air was chill in the forest.

After the woman (who later introduced herself as Katheba) had refused
to help them, Hoshi and the Commander had marched back out of the
camp. Mila had followed meekly behind, and when they stopped, not sure
of their direction, she had taken the lead. She guided them back to
the temple, where they spent hours trying to figure out the Sh'ron,
climbing in and out, willing themselves back to where they came from.

It was no use; nothing changed. Finally, exhausted, they let Mila
bring them back to the village. She led them to a fire, and other
Jafari gave them plates of food and wooden cups of sweet water. After
eating, they sat quietly, staring into the fire and trying to think of
the next step.

"Bed." They jumped at Katheba's voice. She moved into their line of
vision, smiling. "We have prepared your home-tree," she said softly.
"May I take you to it, so that you may rest?"

Trip and Hoshi nodded tiredly. It was clear they were stuck for the
night, so they followed Katheba to the village edge, where she
approached one of the trees. Throwing back the woven opening cover,
Katheba gestured for them to enter.

Hoshi breathed in at the sight of it. The walls inside were carved
with intricate, beautiful designs. A warm fire lit the center of the
single large room; the unique carvings also appeared to be functional,
some deep enough to let the smoke escape. Soft blankets were piled in
the floor on the far side of the tree.

"Thank you," Hoshi said to Katheba. "It's lovely."

Katheba smiled. "Tomorrow we will speak of your future. Tonight, you
must rest." She stepped back through the opening, leaving Trip and
Hoshi alone again.

Hoshi ran her fingers over the carvings, surprised to find the walls
as smooth as glass. She turned to Trip, who was still studying the
room. "Trip, what are we going to do?"

Trip looked back at her. "Honestly? I'm not sure. But don't worry;
we'll figure out somethin'. And Jon'll be lookin' for us by now. Just
a matter of time 'til they find us." He walked to the back of the
room. "Now. Whadda ya say we get some sleep?"

"I doubt I'll sleep tonight," said Hoshi, still upset.

Trip smiled. "That's an order, Ensign." He poked at the pile of
blankets. "Wanna help me make up some beds?"

Hoshi moved to his side, and in short order they had two comfortable
beds near the dying fire. Trip lay down, pulling one blanket over him
and closing his eyes. For a moment, the room was silent.

"Hoshi. Didn't I tell you to go to sleep?"

Behind him, Hoshi was sitting bolt upright, eyes huge as she fretted.
She made a face at his back. "Aye, sir." She lay down and closed her
eyes. Her last thought was of Malcolm, hoping he wasn't too
worried—and that he would find her soon.

---

Archer paced restlessly while T'Pol ran her tricorder over the Sh'ron.
He was about to demand answers from her, again, when Malcolm rushed
in, several other crewmembers on his heels. Malcolm came directly to
Jon, while the rest of the crew approached T'Pol, carrying the
equipment she had requested. Jafari scientists milled about, ready to
offer aid that they could.

"Sir." Malcolm was pale and brusque, an immediate sign of his tension.
"What have you learned? Do you know where they are?"

Jon rested a hand on his armory officer's shoulder. "We don't know
anything yet," he told him. "But T'Pol is working on it—we will find
them."

Malcolm blinked, then looked around angrily. "And what have the Jafari
told you? Sir, the most likely answer is that the Jafari know where
they are and aren't telling us."

"Usually, I would be inclined to agree with you. But the Jafari seem
as surprised as us. They've provided T'Pol with all of the information
that they have on this. . . device. I honestly believe that they do
not know where Trip and Hoshi are, any more than we do."

Malcolm looked suspicious, but bit back his reply. He watched, hands
compulsively opening and closing, while T'Pol worked. Finally, she
turned back to them.

"Captain. May I speak with you privately?"

"Whatever you have to say, you can say to me, Subcommander," Malcolm
snapped. "That's my. . . I have a right to know."

T'Pol raised a brow at Jon, who nodded. She continued, "Very well. I
have run several tests on the stone. It is made up of an unusual
chemical compound, with extremely unique properties. The compound,
when combined with other chemicals, has the ability to act. . . almost
as a transporter."

"A transporter? A transporter that goes where? And why haven't they
come back yet?"

"I can only speculate, Captain. There is no way to know if they are. .
. capable of returning."

Malcolm made a funny sound. "Just what do you mean by that?" he
snarled.

Jon put a restraining hand on his shoulder, and then looked back at
T'Pol.

"You mentioned chemicals. What kind of chemicals?"

T'Pol looked at him. "Pheromones," she said flatly.

"Pheromones? Wouldn't there have to be some kind of attraction. . . "
Malcolm trailed off.

"The Sh'ron was designed for Jafari. Human pheromones appear to be
much stronger. The presence of a male and female human might be enough
to initiate the process."

"We have to go after them," Malcolm insisted. "I'll go."

Jon shook his head. "We can't do anything until we know more about
this thing. There's no way to know what we'd be getting into. There
must be some reason Trip and Hoshi haven't returned on their own." He
went back to pacing. "And no one on this planet can tell us anything
about what's happening!"

A sixth sense made Jon stop and turn. On the far side of the room, a
Jafari that he hadn't yet met was watching them, clearly trying to
appear as if he wasn't. Jon cocked his head at the Jafari. Malcolm
immediately followed his gaze. When he spotted the Jafari throwing
glances their way, he took the direct approach. He covered the space
to their quiet observer in seconds.

"What do you know about this device?" he demanded, leaning in
uncomfortably close.

Jon appeared beside him and placed his hand on Malcolm's chest,
forcing him to back up slightly. "Lieutenant Reed. . . " he cautioned.

Clearly relieved, the Jafari turned to go. Jon stepped into his path.
"Actually," he said pleasantly, "I do have a few questions I'd like to
ask you. What can you tell us about the Sh'ron?"

The Jafari hesitated just a fraction of a second before he said, "I am
sure I have no information that our government has not shared with
you." He smiled, bowed slightly, and stepped around the Captain.

Jon nodded to Malcolm. The Jafari found himself facing Jon again, held
tight by the collar. He struggled ineffectually. Malcolm's threatening
glare led him to answer grudgingly.

"Captain, I realize you are eager to recover your crewmembers. But. .
. I cannot share information that will lead to alterations of the
Sh'ron. Some of us maintain the old beliefs of our people."

Jon stopped smiling. "So you do know something?"

"It does not matter! The Sh'ron has chosen! Your crewmembers cannot
return."

Jon crossed his arms and drew himself up to his full height. "I see.
Well, just in case, maybe you'd better tell us anything you know."

"I cannot do that, Captain Archer."

Still gripping the Jafari's collar, Malcolm moved his face inches from
the Jafari's face. The Jafari's eyes shifted nervously. Malcolm's tone
was even when he spoke, his breath touching the Jafari's ear.

"I'd be more than happy to convince you."

---
Chapter 4
---

A trilling song woke Trip the next morning. Birds, he realized.
Rolling over he discovered Hoshi was gone. He shot up, alarmed, and
hurried outside. He found her a few meters outside the door, sitting
on a tree root beside Mila. Their heads were bent together over
several bolts of material, and they were laughing, he saw with relief.
For a moment, he paused, watching them in the morning light. The
village was a bustle of activity again, with women weaving and men
bent over fires. Children darted in and out, screaming with laughter.
The adults chatted as they went about their work.

Just then, Hoshi spotted him and smiled. The smile gave him a funny
twinge, which he blustered through by grinning at her.

"Good morning," she called.

"Mornin'." He joined the women. Without asking, Mila handed him a
wooden plate of food. Realizing he was starved, he ate quickly. "What
are you all up to?" he asked.

"Mila was showing some of the material that she wove," Hoshi replied.
"It's so beautiful, isn't it? It's made from a fibrous plant. They use
plant materials for everything—food, homes. . . isn't that amazing?"

"That is pretty impressive," Trip agreed, smiling at Mila. He set his
plate down. "Hosh, can I talk to ya for a minute?"

She nodded and he led her away, out of Mila's earshot. "We gotta start
focusing on gettin' outta here." She nodded again in agreement. "Now,
I'm gonna go back to that temple and see what I can figure out. . .
damn, I wish I had a tricorder. Anyway, you go talk to Katheba and see
if you can get any more info on the Sh'ron or whatever else will help
us. Ok?"

"On my way," Hoshi replied. Trip squeezed her arm and began the trek
to the temple.

---

Just before sundown, he walked back into the village, face tense with
frustration. The edge of the village was quiet, but he could hear
laughter farther ahead. He continued in until he reached the central
clearing. There he found the entire village population sitting on
roots and blankets, laughing and eating together. Near the center,
Hoshi sat on a blanket beside Mila and a male Jafari. When he
approached them, they greeted him enthusiastically. He shook his head
at the hopeful look on Hoshi's face; from the way her face fell, he
knew she hadn't learned any more than him.

He sighed and dropped beside her on the blanket, accepting food and
sweet water. Mila introduced the male Jafari as Tinor, her
"companion."

"Trip," Tucker said, nodding.

"Yes, Hoshi's companion," Tinor said with a smile. Trip's eyes widened
and he choked a little on the water. "'Scuse me?"

"Trip, can I speak to you privately?" Hoshi interrupted quickly,
pulling him to his feet.

Away from the crowd, Trip said, "Does companion mean what I think it
does?"

"Yes, pretty much. I spoke with Katheba today. She didn't give me any
hints about getting home, but I did learn a lot about their culture.
Apparently, many of them came here through the Sh'ron; those that
didn't are descendants of those that did. The legend that the guide
told us? Their entire culture is based on it. So they think that we
are here because we are, well, mates."

They both shifted nervously, embarrassed. "That's what shekan means. A
couple, sent here by Keyia—lifemates. It seems that no one has come
through the Sh'ron for a very long time, which is why they were so
excited to see us."

"But. . . where are we? Why can't we reach the Enterprise? Where's the
city?"

"I don't know. Also—the Jafari guide said that those beliefs were old,
long since abandoned by their culture. But everyone here is so young.
They certainly don't look as if they came here eons ago." Hoshi shook
her head. "I don't know; I can't wrap my mind around it yet."

"Well, I guess the question is, whadda we do now." Trip frowned, then
sighed. "Is there anyway to reverse the Sh'ron?"

"Not that these people know of. . . but they believe they were
selected by Keyia to come here, so why would they go back?"

Trip eyed the villagers, then looked back at Hoshi as an idea flitted
through his mind. "Say, does that mean we were approved or rejected?"

Hoshi blushed. "I'm not sure, although it did cross my mind. . . "
Tears welled in her eyes. "Trip, what are we going to do?"

"Hey. Even if we can't figure this out—which we will—Jon and Malcolm
and the rest of the crew'll move heaven and earth to get us back. So
don't worry. Ok?" She brushed at her eyes, and he slipped an arm
around her shoulders, squeezing reassuringly. He looked up to see most
of the village watching them with knowing smiles. He dropped his arm
and stepped back. "Man, this place is startin' to creep me out," he
muttered.

---
Chapter 5
---

Hoshi stirred and smiled. Malcolm was humming again; for once she was
happy to hear it. Grateful he hadn't turned on the light, she buried
her face further into the pillow, dozing until she heard him call her.

"Hoshi." She sighed sleepily. "Hoshi. Hey, darlin', ya better get up."

Her eyes shot open and the warm fog of sleep gave way to a terrible
sensation of dread and anxiety. Trip sat across the fire from her,
calling her. Behind him, light spilled in from the open doorway. She
sat up. Outside, one of the villagers was singing quietly.

"Good mornin'. Sorry to wake ya, but I didn't want ta leave without
tellin' ya. I'm gonna head back to the temple again, see what I can
figure out. You wanna come or stay here?"

She shook her head, trying not to cry. "I promised Mila I would help
her do the wash. These people have been so kind—I feel like I should
do something to repay them."

Trip nodded in agreement. "Not a bad idea—if I don't get anywhere,
I'll come back this afternoon and see if I can do anythin' too." He
paused, looking at her with concern. "Don't spend all day worryin',
Hoshi." He turned and left her to dress and find Mila.

Hours later, Hoshi lay stretched out on a large, warm rock on a
river's edge. She had spent the morning washing clothes and blankets
with the other women. It was warm in the sun, and she wore her uniform
peeled down to the waist, exposing her undershirt. Her shoes rested
beside her. She thought about Malcolm and her family—the people who
would be worrying about her. She thought of how much she missed them.
And she wondered if she was going to get home again.

Hearing shrieks, Hoshi sat up and looked around, shading her eyes with
her hand. A group of the children were just upriver, shouting
frantically. Some of the older ones had waded into the water as far as
they could go without being caught in the current. Following their
gaze, Hoshi spotted a small head bobbing up and down in the water. She
gasped when she realized it was a child.

The head was moving fast, almost level with her now, and without
thinking she leaped to her feet and dove off the rock into the cool
water. She was a strong swimmer, but she still wasn't prepared for the
force of the current that hit her as she struggled to the surface.
Glancing around, she saw the child rush past her and she struck out.
The swiftly moving current carried her to the child, a little girl,
and she encircled her arm around the girl, slamming them together.

The sobbing girl wrapped her body around Hoshi like a boa constrictor.
Hoshi struggled to loosen her so that she could breathe, shouting,
"Let go, I've got you!" in the girl's native tongue. Meanwhile they
were moving fast, and heading for the center of the wide river.

The river was spotted with enormous rocks, and Hoshi aimed for one of
the largest, hoping to grab hold. They banged forcefully into the
rock, Hoshi taking most of the impact with her own body. She cried out
in pain, but managed to hold on. A few encouraging words had the girl
scrambling up the side. Hoshi pushed from underneath; she almost
shouted with relief when the girl found solid purchase.

Her own grip on the smooth rock was precarious. Once the girl was
settled, she tried to climb up after her. A sharp, overwhelming pain
in her side made her gasp and fall back. The little girl snatched at
her hands, trying desperately to pull Hoshi up with her. The girl's
eyes widened and she yelled, "Watch out!"

As soon as the words left her, a huge force slammed into Hoshi, prying
her off the rock. She tried to catch hold of the large branch that had
hit her, but she was moving slowly and it slipped from her fingers.
She fought against the water, going under several times. The pain in
her side made much movement impossible. She slipped under again, lungs
burning. Her mind screamed.

Everything around her slowed. She opened her eyes and saw debris
rushing past her. Her body felt weightless. She knew she was drowning
but for a brief second she felt ok about it. She closed her eyes.

---

Cold. Her next coherent thought was just that one word. Cold. She was
shaking so hard that she was sure she could hear her brain rattling in
her head. She cracked her eyes, squinting against the light around
her. Her body hurt.

"Mal. . . " She tried to speak but her throat wouldn't allow the words
past, only little croaking sounds. She felt warm hands against her
cheek and looked up into Katheba's face.

"Hoshi," Katheba said softly, although it sounded unbearably loud in
Hoshi's head. "You must drink this." A ladle of something warm and
salty was held to her lips. Hoshi drank hungrily, welcoming the
warmth, until her stomach revolted. She turned her head away.

"Hoshi, please. Ya gotta finish it," Trip's pleading voice came from
her right and she looked at him. His eyes were red-rimmed and his hair
stood on end. "Please, darlin'."

Katheba pressed the ladle to her again. Reluctantly, Hoshi drank. But
her stomach was not so agreeable.

Seconds after she finished the concoction, it all came rushing back
up. She rolled over, too weak to sit up, and vomited into a bowl that
helpful hands placed in front of her face. Trip's hands. He smoothed
her hair back and held it out of the way. When it was over, he helped
her to lie back down. Her head spinning, she looked back into his
frantic eyes briefly. Then she allowed the exhaustion to close off her
mind again.

---

A long time later, she opened her eyes again, seeing the carved
ceiling above her. She felt as though she'd been lying still so long
that she was part of the bed under her. Her body felt leaden, but she
was hot, very hot, so she managed to fold the layers of covers off of
her upper body.

"It lives," said a rough voice. She turned to see Trip still sitting
on her right. His eyes looked raw and deep-set, but he was smiling.

"Wha. . . " she croaked. Her voice was still clogged, it seemed, but
Trip interpreted her meaning. While he answered, he helped her to sit
up and piled blankets behind her to prop her up.

"What happened? Katheba says you swallowed some kinda nasty bug when
you took in all of that water. Ya've been sick as hell. Scared the
shit outta me." At her questioning look, he continued, "Tinor dove in
and saved you, thank god." He blinked, glancing down. "I'm sorry,
Hoshi. I didn't get there 'til they were pullin' you out."

"Haw laang?" She grimaced at the way her own voice scraped painfully
at her throat. He poured a glass of water and held it to her lips. She
sipped at it gingerly.

"Two weeks. You've been sick almost two weeks. Katheba took care of
you."

"No, friend, we took care of her." Katheba bustled inside carrying a
steaming bowl. "You're companion has worked tirelessly to save you. He
would not accept your death; indeed, he snatched you back from it. You
were dead when Tiron took you from the river, but Trip gave you his
own breath." She beamed at them. "You chose your companion well."

She handed Trip the bowl. "Please be certain that she eats this, Trip.
Hoshi, when you are well, Rissi's family would like to visit with you,
to offer their gratitude. Thanks be to Keyia for bringing you both to
us." She stepped back outside.

Trip scooted closer, and started spooning the soup into her mouth. She
was a little embarrassed, but the warm liquid was blissful on her
throat, so she allowed him to continue.

After a moment, Trip spoke again. "I have ta tell you somethin'."
Suddenly he would not meet her eye and the smile was gone. "I've been
back to that temple everyday since you got sick. . . I hated to leave
you but I kept thinkin' if I could get ya back to Phlox, everythin'
would be ok."

"Hoshi, I can't get us back. I've tried everything I can think of. The
only way we're gettin' out of here is if the others come for us." She
tried to smile encouragingly, in spite of the tears in her eyes. He
offered another spoonful, which she took.

"I even studied the carvings in the temple. And the thing is—remember
that landscape scene that the guide showed us, the one that'd been
carved eons ago? Well, I took a good look at it. It's a picture of the
way things look here, of the current landscape. All of this time we've
been thinkin' we're lost, in the wrong place. Now I think we're in
exactly the right place. They don't have to figure out where to look
for us. . . they have to figure out when."

Hoshi started, spilling soup down the front of her undershirt.
Glancing down she realized the T-shirt was the only thing she had on
besides a bandage binding her ribs. Her cheeks burned, while her mind
tried to process what Trip said. There was something more to this, she
knew, something beyond time travel. But she was too tired to work at
it now. Too tired to feel as upset as she should at his news.

He put the soup down and she took his hand. His eyes were swimming,
exhaustion and worry finally taking their toll. Hoshi reached out and
pulled him into her arms. They sat wrapped together, rocking slightly.
"'Ank yoo," she whispered. Trip didn't answer, just heaved a ragged
sigh and hugged her tighter, careful to avoid her damaged ribs.

---
Chapter 6
---

Malcolm lay rigid on his bunk. When he finally conceded that willing
himself to sleep wasn't going to work, he sat back up, resting his
feet on the floor and dropping his head into his hands. 'God, this
room is empty.'

Sighing, he stood up, dressed only in his skivvies, and moved to the
desk. He flipped on his computer, bringing up all of the data from
Massum. He had been over it a thousand times, but he still checked it
every day. He couldn't go to sleep without running over it once.

The answer was there, he was certain. And, as usual, he placed the
burden of Hoshi and Trip's disappearance squarely on his own
shoulders. 'I have to get them back.'  Too much time had passed, and
the Enterprise had been forced to move on from Massum. Starfleet had
declared Commander Charles Tucker III and Ensign Hoshi Sato officially
missing. But for once, Malcolm refused to accept the inevitable. He
was going to find Hoshi—and Trip.

For the next two hours he scrolled through pages of data—information
that he could recite by memory now. He could close his eyes and read
the Sh'ron schematics on the insides of his eyelids. But he kept
looking for that one missing piece.

When the screen blurred from his exhaustion, he grudgingly switched
the computer off and staggered back to bed. He closed his eyes,
allowing his mind to drift.

Suddenly his eyes snapped open. He jumped from the bed and ran to his
desk, digging through his notes. Finding the page he sought, he read
it once more before hitting the com on the wall.

"Reed to Subcommander T'Pol."

Her voice came back as collected as ever, despite the odd hour. "Go
ahead, Lieutenant."

"Subcommander, I've found something!"

"Can you be more precise, Lieutenant?"

"Hoshi! Trip and Hoshi! Could you come to my quarters, Subcommander? I
know it's late, but. . . "

"I will be there shortly. Should I wake the Captain?"

"Um, no, no. Not yet. I would prefer to see what you think first."

"I will be there momentarily."

Excited, Malcolm paced while he waited, reading his notes over and
over. When the door rang, he dashed to open it. It wasn't until he saw
T'Pol that he remembered he was still in his underwear. 'Don't have
time for modesty. And it's nothing she hasn't seen before.'

Forgetting his state of undress, he rushed her into the room, showing
her the notes.

T'Pol listened to him while she scrolled through the database.
Finally, when he was finished talking, she turned back to him.

"Tell me I've found something, something useful," he pleaded.

T'Pol looked at him calmly. "Lieutenant, I believe you have found
something useful."

---

Snow swirled in the dark night, piling against the trees and clinging
to the lone figure moving through the woods. As he reached the edge of
the village, he paused, squinting against the shards of snow falling
in his vision. The cloak he wore concealed his face entirely, except
for his eyes. Ahead he could see the glow of many warm homes. He
clumped past them instead, heading for the center of the village.

A large tent enclosed the fire pit, its circumference allowing plenty
of room for people and a bonfire. He ducked quickly through an opening
and threw back his cloak, exposing his face as he surveyed the crowd
inside.

Trilling music, accompanied by the throb of drums, filled the space.
All around him, Jafari danced and laughed and talked. His eyes moved
around the area, seeking a specific face. He found what he sought near
the bonfire. As his eyes settled on her, she turned and noticed him.
Grinning widely, she held out a hand.

"Trip!"

Smiling, Trip brushed the snow from his shoulders and tossed the cloak
away, revealing his blue wrap-style top, and slim brown pants. He
stomped the snow off of his old boots and walked directly to Hoshi.

She grabbed his hand. "I thought you'd never get here." For a moment,
she was serious. "Anything?"

He shook his head, but his eyes contained a teasing light. Every day
since they came to this world, over ten months ago now, he or Hoshi,
or sometimes both, would make the trek to the temple, hoping to find
the answer that would lead them home. The outcome was always the same;
neither of them really expected results anymore. But still they tried.

He smiled down at her. "So, it's been a while since I had a chance to
put my dancin' shoes to the test. Gonna gimme a whirl?"

Hoshi laughed. "If you think you can keep up; I've spent a lot more
time learning the steps than you."

Just then, their friend Tiron approached. He gave Trip a quick embrace
of greeting. "Trip, we are discussing your plans for the crop
irrigation system. Come, we are eager to hear your thoughts." The
Jafari tugged on Trip's arm. Hoshi tugged the other arm just as
forcefully.

Trip exchanged knowing glances with Tiron. "Just cuz Mila is outta
commission, doesn't mean some of us don't have certain party
responsibilities," he told Tiron with a grin and a nod at Mila, heavy
with child. "We can work tomorrow."

Tiron smiled. "Enjoy yourself, friends. It will not be long before
Hoshi is in a similar condition, yes?"

Both Trip and Hoshi blushed scarlet. Without answering, Trip grabbed
Hoshi's arm and pulled her among the dancers. They began twirling
about the room, imitating the other dancers.

Their Jafari friends all considered them mates, and they hadn't done
anything to discourage the idea. It was just simpler that way.
Meanwhile, Trip and Hoshi had formed a deep friendship. Trip sometimes
felt a little wistful when he looked at her, but he was sure that she
still thought of Malcolm often. Although it had been a long time since
he woke up to hear her crying in the middle of the night.

They were settling into their new home, Trip reflected. He was even
learning to speak Jafari. He still relied on the universal translator
in large gatherings like this, but Hoshi pointed out that it was only
a matter of time before its power was drained. He would need to be
fluent by then.

He turned his thoughts back to dancing. Hoshi was cheerfully telling
him a story about Rissi. She and the child had become inseparable
since Hoshi recovered from her illness. Her breath came in little
gasps of exertion as she danced and talked. Her hair, which she now
wore loose like the other women, spun out around them. Her cheeks were
bright, matching the rose-colored dress she was wearing. She had
completed its simple rose and green embroidery herself; Trip had been
greatly amused at the smug satisfaction she took in the
accomplishment.

The song ended, interrupting his thoughts, and they walked off the
dance floor, out of breath.

"Thirsty?" Trip asked. She nodded and he grabbed cups of the sweet
water for both of them. She immediately went to Mila, sitting beside
her. Trip dropped down on Hoshi's other side. Tiron called for his
attention.

"Trip, what do you think of lining the system with stones? It would
filter the water and prevent leaking. In the dry season, I would not
want to waste even a drop of the water."

Trip frowned while he considered. "Huh. That's not a bad idea, Tiron.
Course, we'd have to build the system strong enough to bear up under
the extra weight. . . what were ya thinkin' of usin' for supports?"

His mind now on his project, he launched into a discussion with some
of the Jafaris. He was impressed by how quickly they had taken to his
original idea, contributing many useful suggestions of their own. Out
of the corner of his eye, he saw Rissi approach and tug at Hoshi's
hands.

"Hoshi, come and dance with me, please?"

Hoshi laughed and leaned forward conspiratorially. "Wouldn't you
rather dance with one of the boys?"

The little blond girl made a horrible face. "Uck. No! I want to dance
with you. Please?"

Hoshi allowed herself to be drug back to the dance floor. Trip felt
the sudden emptiness beside him and turned to watch her, mind still
processing support systems. He couldn't help but grin at the delight
on her face as she clasped hands with Rissi and twirled her around and
around. His attention now fully back on Hoshi, he nodded absently at
Tiron's voice.

She belongs with your friend, he reminded himself emphatically.

A friend that isn't here, answered another voice. And probably won't
be, ever again.

Watching her, screaming with laughter, firelight glinting in her hair
and eyes while her dress swirled around her, Trip felt himself slip
again. Only this time he didn't step back from the edge—he simply let
himself fall, a slight sense of vertigo giving way to the certainty
that he wanted to be here, with this woman, more than he wanted
anything. And if he could have her, he could live the rest of his life
among these people, perfectly content.

---

The room spun about her in a smear of color, Rissi's hot little hands
clasped in hers. Finally, Hoshi was forced to stop them. "No more,"
she rasped, laughing. She and Rissi staggered a little as they
stopped. Hoshi impulsively grabbed the girl into a quick hug.

A gaggle of girls absorbed Rissi into their group and Hoshi waved
goodbye before turning back to where her friends sat. Her eyes met
Trip's.

He was looking at her intensely, a little half-smile playing across
his face. Hoshi felt a funny flutter in her stomach, which made her
own smile falter. Trip quickly returned his attention to Tiron and the
others. He said something to them and stood. While Hoshi watched, he
wrapped himself back into his cloak and disappeared through a flap in
the tent.

Hoshi hesitated only a moment before snatching her own cloak from a
nearby pile and following him.

Outside, the silence was a startling contrast. She stood in the quiet,
letting the snow settle in her eyelashes and clothes while her eyes
adjusted to the darkness. Trip was out of sight now, but she could
hear him crunching through the drifts. She struggled after him, trying
to match his longer strides.

"Trip," she called softly. The footsteps ahead of her paused. Rounding
a home-tree, she saw him waiting, ankle-deep in snow. The cloak was
thrown around his shoulders, his head uncovered. Snow peppered his
hair.

"Hey," he said, smiling at her as she caught up. "Thought you were
dancin'."

"I was," she replied. "But I was missing my favorite partner."

Trip's smile remained in place, but his eyes flickered. "I know, Hosh.
I'm sorry I haven't been able to get us out of. . . "

"You," she interrupted. "I meant you."

"Oh." His face was a mixture of hope, confusion, and dismay; then he
grinned. "Well, guess I am quite the Fred Astaire." He angled his head
in the direction he was heading—their home-tree. "I'm bushed; thought
I'd turn in. I'll see ya when ya get home, Ginger." He tossed that
last comment over his shoulder as he moved away.

"Wait," she blurted. He stopped again and turned back, head tilted,
looking bemused.

"Trip, I've been wanting to tell you something. I know you blame
yourself for our being here. And I just wanted to tell you that. . .
I'm ok. No, really," she said, seeing that he didn't believe her. "At
first I missed Malcolm, my family, everyone so much that I thought I
would die. But I didn't die. . . and now, well, as much as I still
miss them, I'm learning to be happy here. Whatever happens, I think
we're going to be ok."

Trip smiled brightly. "Hosh, I can't tell ya how happy I am to hear
you say that." He stomped back to her. "Listen. . . "

Whatever he would have said was lost as a wad of snow struck him in
the ear. Startled, Hoshi jumped and gave a little shriek. Her hands
flew to her mouth, trying to cover the giggle forcing its way free.
Trip's mouth hung open with shock as snow slid wetly down the side of
his face and into his collar. As one, they turned to see Rissi,
flanked by a cluster of laughing children.

Trip narrowed his eyes at his attackers. "Oh, it's on now." As he
spoke, he scooped a handful of snow and sent it hurtling back.
Children squealed as Trip pursued them. He laughed out loud at the
sight of them diving for cover.

He stopped at the sound of pealing laughter behind him. Turning
slowly, he spotted Hoshi bent over and shaking with mirth. When their
eyes met, she started shaking her head frantically and backing away,
still laughing.

"Laugh it up, Sato." Snatching an enormous handful of snow, he
advanced on her.

"No, no, no!" Hoshi shrieked, and turned to run. Her feet caught in
her skirt and she tripped, landing on her hands. She tried to scamper
away on her hands and feet, her escape hampered by how hard she was
laughing.

Mercilessly, Trip leapt on top of her, trying to stuff snow inside her
collar. Hoshi retaliated by smearing snow across his face. She wiggled
around to face him.

For a single moment, they stopped. Snow clung to his eyebrows. Under
them, his eyes still danced, but his smile was fading. Hoshi stared up
at him.

Whump. They both cried out in surprise as several small bodies landed
on them. They could only cover their heads as the children buried them
in snow. Finally, the assault ended and the bellowing children dashed
away.

Puffing, Trip rolled off Hoshi onto his back. They lay panting and
chuckling, trying to catch their breath.

"Ya know, I never liked kids."

Hoshi turned her head toward him. He was grinning at her, his hair and
eyebrows caked with snow. Hoshi laughed.

"You know what? Neither did I."

Trip echoed her laugh with his own and struggled to his feet. He
reached out for her hands, pulling her up beside him. Smirking, he
reached out and rubbed his hands vigorously through her hair, shaking
out the snow.

"C'mon," he invited. "I'm wide awake now; might as well get in another
dance."

She smiled and took his hand. The two of them walked back to the
party, using their free hands to brush snow from their clothing.

---
Chapter 7
---

A few nights later, Hoshi and Trip stood inches apart, crammed once
again in the Sh'ron. Hoshi's eyes were shut as she listened.
"Nothing," she shook her head.

When she opened her eyes, Trip's head was turned away from her,
looking out the opening. He felt her move against him and, without
looking at her, he stepped out of the Sh'ron. He waited,
uncharacteristically silent, as she joined him.

A glance confirmed that she was following him and he walked quietly at
her side through the temple. Outside, Trip paused at the top of the
stairs. Hoshi followed his gaze to the stars above them.

"You miss them, don't you?"

"Who, Jon and the others? Yeah, o' course."

"No. The stars. The adventure."

Eyes still fixed on the heavens, Trip grinned ruefully. He wore his
hood down and his dark blond hair was mussed. As she watched, he
rubbed the back of his head unconsciously.

"Yeah, guess I do. Never thought I'd be finishin' out my days with my
feet on the ground. Least not with only a few years under my belt." He
looked down at her, watching him. "I woulda liked to have seen Warp 6
or 7."

She smiled. "I know. You joined Starfleet for adventure, and you end
up stuck here. I'm sorry, Trip."

Trip shook his head. "Guess there's all kinds of adventure. An' I'm
not one to live my life focusin' on my regrets."

"I'm glad."

Her answer had him studying her in turn. "What about you? Regrets?"

She smiled sadly, but shook her head, eyes back on the stars. She drew
her cloak tighter around her against the chill air. Noticing, Trip put
an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. Hoshi's stomach
tightened, as it did every time Trip touched her recently.

She leaned into him, thinking of how much this man meant to her now.
In the recent months, Trip had gone from a fellow crewmember, for
which she felt gentle affection, to the most important person in her
life.

"I'm learning that everything happens for a reason," she said
suddenly.

"Oh yeah? Well, if you figure out the reason for this one, be sure ya
let me in on it," he teased.

Hoshi turned under his arm, fitting her body against his. She looked
at him seriously. "I can think of one." She stood on tiptoe and
pressed her lips softly against his.

Not thinking, just reacting, Trip held her against him and kissed her
back. He tightened his grip around her, squeezing her to him as if he
couldn't get close enough to her. The kiss grew deep and they stood
like that for a long time, exploring, testing—savoring.

Hoshi finally realized that she could no longer feel her toes and
fingers from the cold, and pulled back. Trip looked at her
searchingly. Uncomfortable under his gaze, she buried her face in his
neck. "You ok?" he asked. She nodded against him. "Cold?" She nodded
again.

"Guess we better head back."

He pushed her away slightly and took her hand. They didn't talk during
the short walk back to the village; the cold driving them to walk
quickly. Their home-tree was located on the outskirts; Trip pulled
back the opening cover and let her enter ahead of him.

Inside they both made sounds of relief at the warmth. "Aaahhh! I am so
glad to be home," Hoshi said a bit nervously, stripping off her cloak
and gloves. She set her boots close to the door and stood near the
fire in just her dress.

Trip grinned at her. "You can say that again." He followed suit,
yanking off his overclothes and snow-covered boots. They stood
awkwardly, until he moved to his bed.

"Guess I'll turn in." He sat down on the bed and looked back at her.
She was staring at him, debating what to say, when they both heard a
voice calling.

"Hoshi! Hoshi!"

A panicked Tiron threw back their door cover and rushed in. "The baby.
. . Mila. . . it's coming."

Hoshi and Trip's eyes both got huge and they looked at each other
dumbfounded.

"What?!" Hoshi demanded of Trip, who was watching her expectantly.
"You think I know what to do? I've never done it before."

"Right," Trip answered. "Right. Ok, you two go back to Mila. I'll go
for Katheba."

Hoshi was already pulling her boots and coat back on. Tiron nodded
frantically, looking relieved that he wouldn't be returning alone.
This would be their first child, and he was terrified. Grabbing
Hoshi's hand, he darted back outside. Trip followed, crossing quickly
to the other side of the village to Katheba's home-tree.

Hours later, he was still lying awake when Hoshi came back into their
home-tree. Beyond her, he could see that morning light was starting to
break through the forest darkness.

"Is it over?" he asked, voice rough from lack of sleep. Hoshi nodded
and smiled. "A boy. They're ecstatic." She moved to a basin of water,
washing her hands and face.

"That's great. I'm happy for them." He closed his eyes to give her
privacy while she changed her dress.

He sat up as she came to sit beside him. "How 'bout you? You look
beat."

She nodded again and he gestured for her to turn her back to him. He
massaged her shoulders while she talked. "I expected it to be this
wonderful miracle—you know like in the movies? Woman screams, cameras
cut away, and here's this perfect little baby." She laughed at her own
naiveté and Trip chuckled. "It was awful. Messy, loud, terrible. But
then it was over and Mila held him, and. . . there was the miracle. He
was amazing, and they were so happy." She faced him excitedly. "I
just. . . I can't describe it, can't do it justice. But it was
amazing."

Her eyes were glowing, and he was struck again by what an incredible
person she was. 'And I mighta missed it if we hadn't come here.' He
leaned forward with that thought, and kissed her.

"Trip. . . "

"Shh. Neither of us has slept much t'night. Let's just get some rest.
We can talk tomorrow." He lay back down. He was stunned when, instead
of returning to her own bed, she crawled under the covers with him.
She curled against him, whispering, "Good night."

He spent the next few hours lying wide awake, listening to her even
breathing beside him.

---

Trip woke from a light doze to find Hoshi propped on one elbow,
watching him.

"Gah!" he started. "What're you doin'?"

She smiled lazily. "Watching you. You're lovely."

"Oh I am, huh? I just bet I look lovely right now."

Hoshi leaned forward, experimentally, and kissed him. Her lips moved
gently across his, her small tongue darting in and out. When he didn't
protest, only kissed her back, she moved her free hand to his bare
chest. Trip made a sound in his throat and rolled her under him,
kissing her passionately now. He pulled back to look into her face.
"You're sure this is what you want?"

"You. I want you." She leaned up to meet his mouth.

That was all of the answer he needed.

---
Chapter 8
---

Trip Tucker was a happy man. Sure, he missed his old life—Jon, the
Enterprise and her crew, his family. But in this new world, he had
friends, a home, work that engaged his hands and his mind—and Hoshi.

Sitting outside his home-tree on a bench of roots, Trip tinkered with
a replacement mechanism for the crop irrigation system. It was
mid-summer now. He and Hoshi had been living on Massum for just under
two years. They had made good friends with most of the village, and
they both were respected for their contributions to the society.
Trip's irrigation system alone had almost doubled the food that the
Jafari were able to put away for winter.

Everyday, he and Hoshi separated to perform their daily chores—him to
the fields and her to the village center, where she and Mila led a
school for the children. But they were always together for their
meals. Trip smiled, thinking of how much he and Tiron enjoyed teasing
Hoshi and Mila. Mila usually blushed and demurred, but he and Hoshi
had some real sparring matches. He liked how she looked with a little
fire in her eyes, so he tried to put it there as often as possible.

Afterwards, they would come back to their home-tree, to be alone.
Their passion for each other never waned—if possible, they needed each
other more every day. Some days they didn't bother going outside at
all.

Trip grinned, remembering the last time they did that—two weeks ago.
'Might be due for another day off, come to think of it.' With that
delightful thought, he reached for a rag and began cleaning the
mechanism in his hands.

"What are you doing?!" Trip looked up. Hoshi was standing a few feet
away, hands on her hips. And she looked mad. He stared at her blankly.

She stomped forward and snatched the rag out of his hand.

"What?! I'm just sittin' here mindin' my own business."

"You were cleaning that filthy. . . thing with my newest weaving."
Trip looked at the muck-stained material in her hand. Sure enough, it
was the piece of material she had been struggling with for several
days. Hoshi was rather sensitive about her inability to master the
village weaving technique. Trip made an 'oops' face. 'Better think
fast, Tucker.'

"Now, darlin'. . . "

"Don't sweet talk me, Trip. It took me FIVE DAYS to get it to turn out
this well. I was going to make a dress!"

Trip eyed the scarf-sized rag doubtfully. "Outta that material?" he
asked dryly.

"You have to be the most insensitive person I have ever met. Ever!"
Hoshi pushed past him into the home-tree. From outside, he heard her
yell, "What did you do in here?"

Trip stuck his head in. "Easy now; I was gonna clean it up. Just got
sidetracked. And as for the material, I'm sorry." She relaxed her
shoulders some. "It's not like you don't already have six dresses;
whatta you need with another one anyway?"

Her back stiffened again. 'Hmm, misfire, Trip. Better change tactics.'

"Hosh, the material was beautiful. And I am really, really sorry." No
response.

"Ya know, you're leavin' me with only one option here." Her head swung
around and she pinned him with a death stare.

"DON'T. I have NOT forgiven you yet." He moved toward her. "Stop,
Trip!" she yelled, but he saw the smile forming before she turned her
face away.

Grabbing her, he swooped her down into a dip and smothered her face
and neck with kisses, all while using one hand to tickle her. Hoshi
tried to protest, but wound up laughing instead, swatting frantically
at his hand. Finally, he showed mercy and stopped the tickling, still
holding her in the dip.

"Forgiven?" he asked gruffly.

Breathless, Hoshi smiled up at him. "Forgiven."

He bent down and kissed her, slipping her down onto their bed. His
hands traveled all up and down, until she wasn't smiling, but
vibrating with anticipation. Frustrated with his slowness, she rolled
them over until she lay on top of him. Looking down at him she
suddenly said, "I love you, Trip."

"I know. I love you, too." He grinned at her. She kissed him. As her
lips trailed downward, the smile faded from his face, replaced by
desire. His mind was lost in a well of sensation.  Once again, there
was only Hoshi.

---

That night, Trip and Hoshi sat on a blanket by the cooking fire
outside their home-tree. Mila, Tiron, and the baby Volus had joined
them for dinner. They sat talking quietly after dinner for a long
time, until the baby began to fuss. Now only Hoshi and Trip remained
outside. She sat between his legs, head resting back against his
shoulder.

Both of them stared contentedly into the fire. Hoshi sighed and Trip
kissed the side of her face in response, brushing her hair back with
his fingers.

"Everythin' ok?"

"Mmm-hmm." She closed her eyes. He smiled against her hair. An ember
broke off and his eyes followed it from the fire, up into the darkened
treetops. He watched it as far as it would go, and then turned his
head back to the fire.

Where his gaze settled on Jon Archer's ecstatic face.

---
Chapter 9
---

"Trip! Hoshi!"

Jon was around the fire and dragging them into his embrace before
Hoshi had time to process who was there. Her befuddled mind registered
T'Pol standing back behind Jon.

Trip looked between Archer and T'Pol blankly. Then he let out a whoop
and threw his arms around his old friend. "Jon! I can't believe it! I
thought we'd never see ya again."

Hoshi stood and stepped back from the rowdy men. T'Pol caught her gaze
and nodded in greeting. "Are you well, Ensign?"

Hoshi nodded and forced a smile that she didn't yet feel. "Yes. We're
both well."

Jon and Trip were still beaming and pounding each other on the back.
"I just. . . God, Jon, this just doesn't seem real. How did ya find
us, after all this time?"

Jon laughed. "I guess it must have seemed like forever for you. But
we've been working on it day and night. We finally found a way to
reverse the Sh'ron. Malcolm found a way, to be fair." He grinned
meaningfully at Hoshi. "He's waiting on the other side, a bit
impatiently. He wanted to come, of course. . . " Jon's voice trailed
off at their expressions.

His eyes widened slightly, remembering how he had found them. "Oh. . .
" Recovering, he said, "Well, anyway, the important thing is that
we've found you. You two ready to get out of here? Enterprise has been
missing her Chief Engineer and Communications Officer."

Trip and Hoshi's faces reflected identical expressions of puzzlement.
"Ya mean ya haven't replaced us?"

"Well, I have to admit, Starfleet was starting to push the idea. But
we weren't ready to give up just yet," Jon said cheerfully.

"What?! Don't get me wrong, Jon, I appreciate the loyalty, but I never
expected this. Two years is an awful long time to be without a Chief
Engineer or a Com Officer."

Jon shifted, his brows coming together. "Two years? What do you mean?"

"I mean the two years that we've been here. Whatta ya think I mean?"

There was silence. Finally, T'Pol answered Trip. "Commander, you and
Ensign Sato have only been missing for 36 days."

"Excuse me?" Trip said, standing. Hoshi opened her mouth, but realized
she had no idea what to say to that. She closed it again.

Jon stood as well, saying, "She's right. It's only been 36 days since
you disappeared, not two years."

Now Hoshi spoke. "No, that isn't right. We've been here for nearly two
years. We kept track. And I remember." Trip nodded in agreement, his
face confused.

"Well, I don't have an explanation. . . but when we get back, maybe
Phlox can run some tests, figure out what's happening," Jon said.

He was a little taken aback when Hoshi and Trip simultaneously stepped
away from him and closer together.

"Hold on, now. You're sayin' that if we go back right now, we'll be
walking into our lives just as they were?"

Jon frowned at his friend. "What do you mean, if?"

Trip took Hoshi's hand. "It may have only been a month for you, but a
lot's happened to us since you saw us. A lot. We just need a little
time to process this, is all." He looked at Hoshi, who nodded in
confirmation.

"Malcolm and his team are under orders to follow us if we don't return
in three hours."

Frustrated, Trip opened his mouth to argue, but T'Pol stepped smoothly
between the two men. "Captain, if what the Commander and Ensign have
told us is accurate, we have some time before three hours will have
passed for the Lieutenant." She turned to face Jon, adding, "Time to
adjust might be all that the Commander and Ensign require."

Reluctantly, Jon said, "Agreed." Hoshi and Trip visibly relaxed.

Smiling again, Trip sprang into action. "Well, guess that means you're
stayin' the night. Are you all hungry? Turns out I'm a hell of a
Jafari cook. You'll love it, T'Pol. Not a ounce of meat in sight."

Jon smiled. "Sure. Maybe you can fill us in on what's happening while
we eat."

While Jon and T'Pol ate, they did just that. Although T'Pol betrayed
very little reaction, Jon was astounded by his friends' stories. When
Trip described Hoshi's illness, Jon turned to her. "I'm sorry, Hoshi.
I should have gotten to you both sooner."

Hoshi smiled kindly. "Trip said the same thing. Thank you, Jon, but it
doesn't matter now. Everything worked out for the best." She looked at
Trip, sitting beside her and smiled. Trip returned the smile, and just
for a moment, Jon felt uncomfortable, as if he was intruding. His
friends looked back at him and the feeling passed.

"Anyway," Trip said, "you all must be tired."

"No. I'm fine," Jon responded. His relief at seeing Trip and Hoshi
alive had energized him.

"I am tired," T'Pol said. "If you have no objections, Captain, I will
retire for the evening."

Jon shook his head, and Hoshi and T'Pol stood. "Goodnight," Hoshi said
to the men. They each tossed a smile in her direction, but they were
clearly focused on their conversation. Rolling her eyes, Hoshi led
T'Pol into the home-tree.

"Just a moment, Subcommander, and I will make up a bed." She began to
gather and arrange blankets.

While she waited, T'Pol studied the room. "It is a lovely home,
Ensign. You and the Commander have fared well in this difficult
situation."

Finished, Hoshi gestured to the bed. T'Pol sat, watching Hoshi prepare
a bed for Jon. "Thank you. It was hard at first, but. . . we've been
happy here."

"Yes, I see that you have."

Hoshi dropped down onto Jon's freshly made bed. "I know it must look
strange—I was involved with Malcolm when I came here." T'Pol's face
was impassive; Hoshi continued. "I. . . we thought we would be here
forever. And my feelings. . . changed."

"You were faced with extreme circumstances. Building a new life was
the only logical choice."

Hoshi smiled ruefully. "Then why do I suddenly feel so terrible?"

"Do you regret your involvement with the Commander now?"

"No! No—I wouldn't give up our time together for anything. I just. . .
what happens if we go back? How will I explain this to Malcolm? To
him, only a month has passed."

"I have found the Lieutenant to be quite reasonable. I believe he will
adjust accordingly."

Hoshi shook her head. "I just don't want to hurt him."

"Hurting either Lieutenant Reed or Commander Tucker is inevitable. You
must simply decide what is the best choice for you."

Head down, Hoshi didn't answer. T'Pol asked, "Do you intend to return
with us?"

Hoshi met her eyes now. "I don't know. I think Trip and I will have to
talk about it. We have a life here. . . but we also have so many
people waiting for us. I guess we have a decision to make."

Satisfied, T'Pol nodded and lay down. Closing her eyes, she said,
"Goodnight, Ensign."

"Goodnight." Hoshi crawled into the bed she shared with Trip.

They lay silently as the fire died down. T'Pol's voice broke the
quiet.

"It is. . . good. . . to see you again."

Her back to T'Pol, Hoshi grinned. "I'm glad to see you, too,
Subcommander."

---
Chapter 10
---

Jon opened his eyes to a blinding headache. At some point during the
previous night, Trip had broken out a container of homemade Jafari
liquor, saying, "It tastes lousy, but it does the job." That
prediction had really hit the mark, Jon decided, given his own current
state. But they'd had a lot of fun celebrating at the time.

Head throbbing, he finally sat up to discover he was alone in the
home-tree. His cottony mouth convinced him to venture outside in
search of water. Just beyond the door, Trip, Hoshi and T'Pol sat
talking to a dark-haired female Jafari holding a baby.

Trip burst out laughing when he saw him. "You look even worse than I
feel. Here." He handed Jon a cup of water, which Archer took
gratefully. "Jon, this is Mila. Our friend."

Mila smiled brilliantly. To Jon's surprise, she stood and embraced
him, then walked away.

Trip and Hoshi grinned at him. "She thinks you and T'Pol are here
because you are Shekan—mates," Hoshi explained. "We tried to explain,
but, well, we tried to do the same thing when we came. Trust us, it's
easier not to argue." T'Pol and Jon made a point of looking away from
each other.

Hoshi offered Jon food, and they all talked quietly while Jon ate. As
he finished, Trip said, "Well, I have some work to do in the fields.
Jon, I'd love for ya to come take a look at what we're doin'."

Jon looked inquisitively at T'Pol, who said, "Ensign Sato has asked me
to join her while she teaches the Jafari children their lessons."

"They've never seen a Vulcan before," Hoshi explained. "I think it
would be interesting for them."

"All right, sounds like we have a plan." Jon stood to join Trip. He
was eager to return to Enterprise, but it seemed best to allow Trip
and Hoshi a day's time to adjust. Plus he was always intrigued by new
cultures. He followed Trip to the fields, thinking how good it was
just to talk to his best friend, after fearing he never would again.
He could worry about the future later.

---

After Jon had admired Trip's irrigation system, and endured the
embraces of all of the Jafari men, he and Trip escaped to walk along
the river. They strolled along the edge, talking of Enterprise.

As Jon finished filling Trip in on the status of Engineering, Trip
stooped and picked up a pile of small rocks. He handed several to Jon
before skipping one across the water's surface.

"This is where they pulled Hoshi out," he said conversationally,
watching his stone skim over the river. Jon followed suit with his own
rock, but didn't answer. After a minute, Trip continued.

"She was dead when I got here. Scared me to death; I could barely
remember how to do CPR." Jon watched him, but Trip kept his eyes
focused on the rocks they were throwing. "When she started coughing. .
. I can't tell ya how I felt. And then she got sick. I sat there
beside her, watching her fight, and it's the most terrified I've ever
been." He turned back to his friend. "All of those times I could have
died—the shuttlepod, the desert—I've never been that scared. But she
made it and. . . she's been my whole world, Jon. I can't give her up."

"I know."

Continuing as if he hadn't heard him, Trip said, "I want to go back. I
miss Enterprise. And to think I've only missed a few days. . . I could
just walk right back into my life. But it's up to her. I can't go
without her."

Jon nodded and put his hand on Trip's shoulder. "I think maybe you're
talking to the wrong person right now."

Trip grinned. "Good point. Wanna head back?"

They turned back towards the village. "Ya know, I been thinkin'. It's
kinda interesting that you and T'Pol came through the Sh'ron
together." Trip stroked his chin and gave Jon a knowing look.

Jon eyed him. "What's your point, Trip?"

"Nuthin'. Just that it's supposed to pick out mates. Hoshi and I came
through together, and now look at us. So, I was just speculatin'. . .
"

Jon paused in his walking. "Well you can stop 'speculatin'." He gave
Trip a stern look. It didn't have the desired affect, judging by the
laughter that followed him when he stalked on. He looked back. "You
know, I'm starting to wonder why I missed you so much."

Trip laughed again, and this time Jon joined him.

---
Chapter 11
---

The home-tree didn't offer the same comfort that it had before. Hoshi
stood perfectly still inside. Jon, Trip and T'Pol were in the village
center, talking with Katheba. Jon had wanted to offer his gratitude
for her warm treatment of his crewmembers. He talked of taking them
back with him; Hoshi could only see the hurt and bewilderment in
Katheba's eyes. So she left.

She waited now. When Trip's voice interrupted her thoughts, she looked
over her shoulder at him with no surprise.

"Hey."

"Hi."

"So. Pretty crazy, huh? I still can't believe they're here."

She smiled faintly. "I know."

Trip crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind.
Against her hair, he said, "So now what?"

She answered honestly. "I'm not sure. I know you want to go back."

"Don't you?"

"Yes. I think so. But I'm frightened. What happens to us when we get
there? Where you're a Commander and I'm an Ensign? Where Malcolm is?"

"We'll deal with it, best we can. I'm not sure, but I know we can work
it out."

Hoshi smiled. "Always the optimist."

"Damn right. An' have I ever been wrong?" She shook her head, and he
said, "I miss my family and my friends, Hoshi. This thing with the
time. . . we've been given a second chance. I think we gotta take it."

"It will be hard, saying goodbye." It was Trip's turn to smile,
knowing that she had made up her mind. She turned to face him. "Where
are Jon and T'Pol?"

Trip smirked. "I left 'em with Katheba. The huggin' was startin' up
again. You shoulda seen T'Pol's face when Mila grabbed her." He and
Hoshi laughed. He gave her a quick squeeze. "We better pack up and go
tell everyone goodbye."

---

"Hoshi, it's time to go." At Trip's gentle nudge, Hoshi reluctantly 
tried to extract herself from Rissi's grasp. The little girl sobbed 
and wrapped herself more tightly, until her father pulled her into his 
own grasp. Smiling sadly at Hoshi, he stepped back, whispering 
comforting words to his daughter.

Most of the village had followed Trip and Hoshi to the temple to say
their goodbyes at the foot of the stairs. Now, only Katheba, Mila and
Tiron stood with them outside the temple doors.

While Trip spoke to his friend Tiron, Hoshi hugged Mila tightly. "I
love you," she told her friend. "I will always think of you."

Mila nodded. "I love you as well. Goodbye, my friend." She turned away
tearfully, finding comfort in Tiron's waiting arms.

Trip and Hoshi faced Katheba. She smiled and embraced each of them.
"You will always be welcome here, friends."

Trip returned her embrace enthusiastically. "Thank you, Katheba. For
everything." He glanced meaningfully at Hoshi.

She nodded and moved to Hoshi, who hugged her tightly. "Goodbye. Thank
you."

With a final smile, Katheba turned and led Tiron and Mila back down
the stairs. Hoshi and Trip stood together watching them go, and then
scanned the landscape one last time. Trip squeezed her hand. With a
sigh, she turned and followed him inside. They walked through the
temple alone, hand in hand. Approaching the Sh'ron, Trip remarked,
"Guess it must have worked for them."

The Captain and Subcommander had gone ahead—Jon rather
grudgingly—after T'Pol pointed out that they would need to leave well
ahead of Trip and Hoshi. Otherwise, given the time discrepancy, they
risked interfering with one another's arrivals. Apparently, their
strategy for returning had worked—they hadn't returned to the village.

Hoshi shrugged. "Are you ready?" she asked.

"Ready as I'm gonna be."

Hoshi responded by pulling out the hypospray that T'Pol had given her.
Phlox had carefully designed it to alter their body chemistry just
enough to reverse the Sh'ron. Trip made a face as she injected him,
and then took the hypo and injected Hoshi.

They stepped into the Sh'ron together, and stood in the cramped space
waiting for the hypo to take effect. Hoshi looked up at Trip with
frightened eyes. "It's gonna be ok, Hosh. I promise." He kissed her
softly.

His hands wrapped themselves in her hair and he pulled her head
forward until their foreheads rested together. She slipped her hands
up around his inside of her hair. She heard the sound—the one she had
been waiting two years to hear. But she still stood, eyes closed,
until strange hands reached inside the Sh'ron and pulled her out.

"Hoshi!" It was Malcolm. He snatched her into his arms and the scent
of him was familiar and comforting. "Thank God." He just held her,
whispering it over and over. "Thank God."

---

The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now
far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can, Pursuing it
with eager feet, Until it joins some larger way Where many paths and
errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say. JRR Tolkein

---
Chapter 12
---

Hoshi kept her face buried in Malcolm's neck. As long as they were in
this moment, she didn't have to face the next step. Behind her, she
could hear someone cheerfully greeting Trip, who responded in a
friendly but guarded tone. She knew he was watching her out of the
corner of his eye.

Finally, she pulled back and looked into Malcolm's face. His blue eyes
were lit with relief and happiness; he was waiting for her to speak,
to greet him.

Before she could, Jon intervened. "Welcome back." Malcolm released
Hoshi and stepped back, allowing the Captain to address them.
Instantly, Phlox appeared and began scanning Trip and Hoshi, while Jon
continued. "What do you say we head back to Enterprise? The doctor can
examine you, and then we'll all sit down to dinner together." He
grinned at Trip. "Chef's got a big, juicy sirloin with your name on
it."

While Trip responded with some kind of joke, Hoshi looked around the
room. It was packed with people. There were several crewmembers from
Enterprise—T'Pol, Malcolm, several of Malcolm's people—but most of
them were Jafari. The way the Jafari were watching her made her
uncomfortable; she instinctively moved closer to Trip and Malcolm, who
flanked her.

The Captain turned and gestured for them to follow. He only took two
steps before an older, male Jafari stopped him. "Captain. . . "

"Minister." Jon's voice was abrupt; his stance annoyed. His
uncharacteristic response made Hoshi wonder what had been happening
with the Jafari government while she and Trip were gone.

The Jafari ran nervous fingers through his graying blond hair. "We
would like to offer you our hospitality before you depart. We feel
badly about this incident. Please, allow us to make it up in some
small way."

Jon shook his head. "Thank you, Minister, but our doctor needs to have
a look at them before we do anything else. And I suspect they're eager
to get back to the ship—they've been gone quite a while."

"Your doctor is welcome to use any of our facilities. Our medical
complex is close by."

"No, thank you," Jon bit out, and brushed past. Suddenly all of the
Jafari were holding weapons. Malcolm and the rest of the security team
moved, but it was too late to reach for their own phasers. The Jafari
quickly retrieved the crew's weapons.

"I am sorry, Captain, but I must insist," the Minister said
regretfully. "It is for your own safety. It seems that some of our
citizens are not pleased with the return of your people. We simply ask
that you stay with us while we deal with this problem."

Malcolm spoke up. "We are prepared to defend ourselves. We don't need
your protection."

The Minister's face hardened. "You would not get near your craft
before you were all killed. Your friends are targets. Surely you do
not wish to put such lovely women at risk?" He gestured to Hoshi and
T'Pol. All eyes turned to them for a moment. Jon finally said, "It
looks as though we don't have much choice, do we?"

"No, Captain. You do not." The Minister made a broad gesture with his
arm. "Please follow me."

Surrounded on all sides by armed Jafari, the Enterprise crew trudged
out.

---
Chapter 13
---

Trip Tucker sat on a table in an empty, blaringly white room. He
shifted uncomfortably in the white robe he was wearing, wishing again
for a pair of pants and some shoes. He'd been sitting in the room for
hours, while a parade of Jafari scientists marched in and out, poking
and prodding at him. They all refused to answer any of his questions.
Now, almost thirty minutes had passed since he had seen anyone.
'Patience was never one o' my strong suits.'

He jumped agilely off the table and stalked towards the camera in the
corner. Looking directly into the lens, he demanded, "Hey! Somebody
better get their ass in here and tell me what's goin' on in about ten
seconds, or I'm gonna start to get real pissy."

Ten seconds passed. No response.

"Hey! Jackasses! I wanna see the Captain. NOW dammit!"

Again, no answer. "Ok, you asked for it." Trip turned and grabbed the
table, dragging it to the corner. Climbing up, he wrapped his hands
around the camera, leaning in close. "I WANT ANSWERS NOW." With that,
he ripped the camera off the wall and threw it as hard as he could
against the far wall.

Almost instantly, he heard the lock on the single door opening. "About
time." He hopped off the table and stood in the center of the room,
ready for battle.

He was both relieved and disappointed when Dr. Phlox hurried into the
room, alone.

"Commander." For once, the doctor's cheerful smile was gone.

"Hey, doc. What the hell's goin' on out there?"

"I am afraid I do not have much information to offer. The Captain,
Subcommander T'Pol, Ensign Sato, and yourself are all being held under
observation. Apparently the Jafari are very interested in the effect
the Sh'ron has had on you, and have been performing tests
accordingly."

Trip pushed up his sleeves, revealing heavy bruises on his arms. "Tell
me about it. I was startin' to wonder if they were gonna leave any
blood in me."

Phlox frowned. "I have been given permission to examine each of you
for my own purposes." He stepped forward and began to scan Trip.

Tucker hardly noticed. "So how's everybody else doin'? How's Hoshi?"

"I cannot say. You are my first patient."

Trip made a frustrated sound and swung away from the doctor. Phlox
responded by following him, still scanning.

His smile returned as he studied the tricorder. "Other than the
bruises, you are in perfect health, Commander. Although I will need to
compare this data to what I recorded during your last checkup, I can
say that no harm came to you during your excursion."

Trip waved dismissively. "Where's Malcolm?"

"The Lieutenant and his team have been detained in a room nearby. They
are being well-treated, thus far."

"Well-treated? Sorry doc, but I don't consider holdin' us against our
will 'good treatment'. In fact, it's pretty LOUSY TREATMENT." Trip
looked at the ceiling, yelling the last part of his statement.

"I doubt shouting at them will have much effect," Phlox advised
mildly. "My recommendation is that you be patient." Trip snorted and
the doctor stepped back. "Well Commander, I have completed my
examination. I must move on to the others." He held out his hand,
clearly expecting a handshake.

Trip stared at the hand dumbly. He could have sworn someone once told
him that Denobulans hated to be touched. Curiously, he reached out his
hand and took Phlox's. Giving the Commander's hand a brisk shake,
Phlox turned and knocked on the door. It opened immediately. Before he
could leave, Trip called after him. "Hey, doc, see what you can do
'bout gettin' me my pants back, ok?"

"I will do my best," Phlox promised, and left.

Trip ran his thumb over the object Phlox had placed in his hand. He
kept his face carefully blank, in case the Jafari were still watching.
But his mind danced with glee as his touch identified a slim
pocketknife, much like the one Malcolm was known to carry.
Indifferently, he dragged the table back to the center of the room,
directly across from the door, and sat on it. He waited, staring at
the door, casually making note of the details of its lock.

---
Chapter 14
---

"How long do you intend to hold us?" Jon watched Narm, the Jafari
Minister, carefully. A few moments before, several guards had come to
lead him to the Minister's office. He stood at the end of a long,
white table, facing Narm, who was seated at the opposite end.

"Only as long as necessary," Narm answered enigmatically.

Jon tightened the belt of his robe, wishing he were back in uniform.
He felt decidedly vulnerable dressed like this. Standing up straight,
he demanded, "I want to contact my ship and see my people. Why are we
being held separately?"

"It was only a precaution, Captain. The rest of your people are on
their way here even now. Please, have a seat while we wait. Once they
have arrived, I will gladly apprise you of the current situation.
Afterwards, you may contact Enterprise."

Jon relaxed slightly, but maintained his suspicions. He sat in the
closest chair. He was about to ask another question when the door
opened, and T'Pol entered, dressed in a similar robe. Malcolm, Phlox,
and the other crewmen followed close behind. They had all been allowed
to keep their clothes, Jon noted enviously. Hoshi and Trip were not
among them.

Jon stood up again. "Where is the rest of my crew?"

"I apologize, but we are not able to release them at this time. The
information that they possess regarding our ancestors could prove to
be invaluable. It requires further study, at the least." Malcolm
bristled. Narm continued, "We have not harmed them, and they are in no
danger. Ask your doctor; he examined them both."

All eyes turned to Phlox. "I can confirm that both Commander Tucker
and Ensign Sato are physically well. Although understandably
frustrated and confused," he said, looking pointedly at Narm.

He ignored the doctor and addressed Archer. "As I told you, many of
our people were upset by what they consider outside interference with
the Sh'ron. The situation has quickly become volatile. We are now
facing an uprising."

"And you're saying this is our fault?" Archer gaped at him.

T'Pol interjected. "It seems unlikely that your citizens would react
so violently to a single incident."

Narm shifted. "This particular faction has been at odds with our
government for some time now," he admitted.

"We have no affiliation with your government. We only wanted to
recover our crewmembers," T'Pol said.

"It does not matter. They believe you are aligned with our government.
That makes you their enemies. In particular, your Commander and Ensign
have assaulted their beliefs by returning. They will seek
restitution." Narm leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. "We
need your help putting a stop to the rebels before they can attack."

"Help you?! I don't remember you giving us much assistance when we
were looking for a way to recover our people," Malcolm said heatedly.

Archer held up a hand. Malcolm looked away angrily, but fell silent.
Jon said, "We didn't come here to get involved in your civil war."

"You are partially to blame for all of this!"

"I doubt that, Minister," T'Pol stated mildly.

Narm drew himself up to deliver a furious response. Before he could,
Archer stepped between them. "I won't agree to do anything until I
have my people back and I have spoken with Enterprise."

He and Narm glared at each other.

A violent explosion demolished the wall behind Narm, blowing them all
off their feet. The heavy table crashed forward, driving Jon back into
T'Pol and the wall behind them. His vision blurred momentarily, but he
struggled to a sitting position, trying to disentangle himself from
her body.

He twisted around and grasped her face. "Are you all right?" A trickle
of green oozed down the side of her face, but she met his eyes and
nodded. Jon turned back, peering through the dust and debris.

Malcolm was a few meters away, already moving among his fallen people.
They all had dust caked in their clothes and hair, but none appeared
to be seriously injured.

"Doctor?" Malcolm called. Hearing a groan, he dug into a pile of
debris, uncovering Phlox. "Doctor! Are you all right?"

Phlox sat up carefully, holding his head. "Yes, Lieutenant. I believe
I am relatively unhurt."

Malcolm was looking past him. "I'm afraid we can't say the same for
the Minister." Jon followed his gaze; Narm's twisted body lay nearby.
He was obviously dead. Beyond him, they could hear the distant sounds
of fighting through the hole left by the explosion.

Malcolm turned back to Jon. "Captain, we need to return to the
shuttlepod and get off this planet."

Jon stood and leaned down to assist T'Pol. Wrapping an arm around her
waist to support her, he said, "Agreed. But first we need to find Trip
and Hoshi."

Malcolm scanned the group, then looked seriously at the Captain. "Sir,
the Subcommander and the Doctor are in no condition to perform a
rescue operation. I suggest that you take them back to the shuttlepod;
I will take a team and find Hoshi and Trip."

Archer considered arguing, but one look at T'Pol stopped him. Her
glassy eyes were half-closed and her breathing was shallow. The dust
on her face was smeared with sweat and blood. She leaned on him
heavily. "All right, Malcolm. We'll meet at the shuttlepod. We'll wait
for you for one hour."

Malcolm nodded, turning to Phlox. "Doctor, you saw them both. Where
are they being held?"

"On the opposite side of the compound, one level down from where we
were held."

Malcolm moved so quickly that Jon almost missed it. One moment he was
kneeling beside Phlox, the next he was standing in the doorway,
barking terse orders. "Russo, Fehr, escort the Captain and his party
back to the Shuttlepod. Delacruz, Myers, you're with me."

He and the crewmen disappeared into the corridor. Fehr stepped up to
assist Phlox; he allowed her to take his arm. With a nod from the
Captain, Russo moved ahead of them, watching cautiously. He leaned out
the hole in the wall. When he motioned them forward, the little group
limped outside after him, heading for the shuttlepod.

---
Chapter 15
---

By the time the door opened again, Trip had been staring at it so long
he was starting to go cross-eyed. A Jafari woman entered and held out
a stack of clothing, which he recognized as his own.

"Finally!" He bounded off the table to grab the clothes; the woman
jumped back, eyeing him nervously. Trip took a step backwards, holding
up his hands in what he hoped was a non-threatening manner. "Whoa.
Sorry 'bout that. Just got excited is all; didn't mean ta scare ya."

He reached out, more slowly this time, and she allowed him to take the
clothes. Trip whirled, dropping them on the table. While he sorted
through them, he remarked, "Guess the doc came through, huh? So when
ya think I can get outta here?"

His answer was the sound of the door clicking shut. He looked around
to see the woman had left. "Friendly bunch, aintcha?" He made a face
at the door and went back to dressing. He quickly pulled on the pants
and shoved his arms through the shirtsleeves without bothering to tie
the shirt shut. Preparing to put on his socks and boots, he sat on the
table.

He fell right back off when the entire room shook. Scrambling to his
feet, he stood still, listening. Outside the room, he could hear
people shouting and running. "That sounds like my cue," he decided. He
yanked on his shoes and socks, and hurried to the door, pulling out
Malcolm's knife.

He set to work on the lock. After several long, curse-filled minutes
passed, he heard the lock release. Grasping the handle, he stood and
pulled the door open slightly. A surprised Jafari face came into his
line of vision. They stared at each other; Trip recovered first,
popping the Jafari in the face with his fist. The man landed on the
floor and Trip stepped out around him.

Glancing down, he saw that he had stunned the guy, but he was already
starting to move around. As a precautionary measure, he grabbed the
Jafari's shoulders and rammed his head into the wall. The Jafari
stopped moving.

Satisfied, Trip trotted down the hallway, looking for Hoshi's room. He
had no idea where to start. One white door looked like the next. The
overhead lights were flickering; the resulting effect reminded Trip of
the strobe lights used in dance clubs. He had always found that
particular effect creepy. 'Time to get outta here.' Realizing there
were no Jafari in sight, he took a chance, calling out to her as he
jogged. "Hoshi! Hoshi! Where are you?"

"Trip!!" He heard her muffled reply at the far end of the hall.
Breaking into a full-out run, he skidded to a halt outside the door.

"Hosh?"

"Yes, I'm in here! Can you open the door?"

"Hold on!" Trip knelt in front of the door and inserted his knife into
the lock. He wiggled it around. A snapping sound stilled his hand. He
slowly pulled the knife back out—minus its blade.

"Shit!"

"What is it?" Hoshi called.

"Um, nothin', just a minor setback. . . " He looked up and down the
hall. Seeing nothing he could use as a tool, he decided to try a new
approach. "Hoshi, hon, stand back from the door."

He stood and rammed his shoulder into the door. The effort only earned
him an aching shoulder. Standing back, he raised his foot and began
kicking the door at the handle level. Frustration built up, and he
bellowed at the door in time with each kick. "OPEN. . . YOU. . .
SONOFA. . . "

"Trip!" He was immensely relieved to turn and see Malcolm dashing
towards him, two crewmen following. Malcolm slid to a stop beside him
and lifted his chin at the door. "Hoshi?" he asked, panting.

Trip nodded.

"Right then." Malcolm stepped back to the opposite side of the hall,
looking expectantly at Trip. Seeing his plan, Trip took his place
beside him.

"On three, ok?" Trip did the count. "One. . . two. . . three!" The two
men ran forward, throwing themselves hard against the door. Their
combined weight did the trick; the door crashed into the room, taking
them with it. They landed in a heap on the busted door.

Raising his head from Malcolm's chest, Trip moved his eyes from a set
of pretty ankles, up a red Jafari-style dress, to dark, amused eyes.
He returned her grin. Under him, Malcolm groaned and shoved Trip off.
He rolled onto his stomach and looked up, relaxing a little when he
saw Hoshi smiling at them. "Are you all right?" he asked huskily.

Hoshi nodded, smile fading a little. "What's going on out there?"

Trip looked at Malcolm with interest.

"Civil war," Malcolm summarized. "We have to get back to the
shuttlepod—the Captain is only going to wait another 40 minutes."

Hoshi stepped over the reclining officers and out the door. They heard
her greet Delacruz and Myers, who she knew vaguely. Then, "Well, let's
go!"

Trip smirked at his friend. "The chief has spoken." He stood, pulling
Malcolm up beside him. Malcolm just smiled and shook his head.

"I see some things haven't changed."

---

The shuttlepod stood in the center of an open launchpad. Jon cursed
when he saw it; they were going to have to dash over at least 50
meters of exposed ground. There was absolutely nothing around it that
could serve as cover.

The five of them crouched behind a trash dispensary at the edge of the
launchpad. They could hear weapon fire and explosions all over.

"Ok, we're going to have to make a run for it," he said, looking at
Fehr and Russo. "We all go together, but I need you two to provide as
much cover as possible." They nodded their understanding—they had
managed to snag several hand weapons from the bodies of Jafari rebels
on their way to the pad. "Doctor Phlox, can you make it on your own?"

"Yes, Captain," Phlox said. Jon thought fleetingly that it was the
most taciturn he had ever known the doctor to be. He turned to T'Pol.
She looked at him through dim eyes. Without asking, Jon bent down and
tossed her over his shoulder. "Ready?" he said to the rest of the
group. "Go!"

They tore across the ground, heading for the pod. Fehr and Russo ran
on the outside, weapons ready.

'Almost there. . . ' Jon thought as they closed on the shuttlepod. He
didn't even hear Fehr shout "Captain!" But he felt it when she threw
herself into him, sending T'Pol and him sprawling. Weapon fire whizzed
around him, smacking against the ground. Phlox was already at the
shuttle, opening the door before he turned back.

Jon surged to his feet, gathering T'Pol against him. Out of the corner
of his eye, he saw Russo snag Fehr's lax body by the collar. He
dragged her after them, still returning fire with his free hand. Jon
dove into the pod; Russo tossed Fehr in and plunged in after her.
Phlox slammed the door shut. They could hear shots thumping against
the hull, but they weren't strong enough to penetrate the plating.

Phlox set to work on Fehr, who appeared to be the most critical. "Is
she. . . ?" Russo asked.

"She is alive, but she has sustained a serious wound." Phlox stripped
the Ensign's uniform down to the waist and rolled her onto her stomach
so that he could treat the severe burn on her back.

Jon propped T'Pol in one of the seats. Reassuring himself that she was
all right for the moment, he moved to the pilot's seat. "Archer to
Enterprise."

Mayweather's voice came back instantly. "Enterprise here, Captain.
What's going on down there?"

Jon shifted, trying to position his robe in a more dignified manner.
"It's a long story. But we're under a lot of fire right now, and we
can't take off yet—our whole team hasn't arrived."

Phlox interrupted, "Captain, we cannot afford to wait much longer. I
need to get Ensign Fehr to Sickbay as soon as possible."

Jon started at the Denobulan, his mind working. "Travis?"

"Yes, Captain?"

"I want you to grab a few crewmen and head down to the launchbay.
Prepare Shuttlepod Two for launch. I've got hurt people down here that
I need to get back to Enterprise, but someone needs to be here to
pickup Malcolm and the rest of our people."

"Aye, sir. And. . . sir?"

"Yes, Travis?"

"Are Commander Tucker and Ensign Sato some of those people we're
picking up?"

Jon smiled. "That's affirmative. They're back. Now get down here,
Ensign, double time. We'll wait to leave until you tell us you've
launched."

"Yes, sir," Travis answered cheerfully.

---
Chapter 16
---

Hoshi ran along the hallway behind Trip and Malcolm, Delacruz and
Myers following. Malcolm led them up one level, stopping outside
another white door. He opened the door cautiously, waited, and stuck
his head in. Apparently seeing nothing, he disappeared inside,
returning seconds later with their missing phasers. He handed one to
each of them.

"Now that's more like it," Trip said. Hoshi held the weapon gingerly;
she had never been an expert with the things, and a good deal of time
had passed since she touched one at all. She turned it over in her
hand, testing the feel of it.

Malcolm laid a hand on her arm. "Are you going to be all right with
this?" She nodded with more confidence than she felt. He looked at her
intently and brushed his hand over her hair. She watched him, unsure
of what to say.

"Ahem." Behind them, Trip cleared his throat, obviously trying not to
glare. "Think we better get outta here?"

Instantly Malcolm was all business again. "Of course." He led them
back to the stairs. As they climbed, the sounds of battle became so
loud they were almost deafening. They went up one more level and
approached wide glass doors. "This is the fastest way to the
shuttlepod."

Through the glass, Hoshi could see the temple looming. The medical
complex was located directly next to it, about halfway up the numerous
stairs winding up from the road. Malcolm and Trip darted outside,
glancing around carefully and motioning for the rest to follow.

Malcolm pointed to the west. "This way." He took the lead again.

When the shot hit him, spinning him around, Hoshi screamed. Before she
could react, he was back on his feet, clutching his arm and shouting
for them to follow. Trip reached back, grabbing her hand, and they all
sprinted in the opposite direction from the weapon fire—towards the
temple.

"Inside!" Trip yelled to Malcolm. The crewmates threw themselves
through the enormous doors, slamming into the floor and far walls. The
shots followed them, clearly getting closer.

"We have to move back!"

Trip nodded in response to Malcolm's shout. Hoshi was curled tightly
into his body; he grabbed her and forced her into the next room.
Malcolm and his men fired several shots out the wide doors before
following. From the doorway of the second room, Hoshi saw several
Jafari try to enter. They were driven back by phaser shots, but were
clearly determined to pursue their prey.

Delacruz was standing closest to the door. A wild shot by a Jafari
weapon caught him in the throat. His body flew back into Myers, who
caught him. They could see he was dead before Myers had a chance to
lower him to the ground.

Hoshi clapped a hand over her mouth. A grim Trip shoved her back. "Get
into the next room, Hoshi." She shook her head and brandished her
weapon. On the opposite side of the doorway, Malcolm swore.

"Hoshi, go, for Christ's sake!" She wheeled to look at him; he was
leaning against the wall, sweat standing out on his pallid face. The
left arm and shoulder of his jacket were drenched with blood. She took
a step toward him.

"Get back!" he snapped. Trip yanked her back behind him.

She wanted to sob; she tamped down on it, but she couldn't manage to
control the tears filling her eyes. She was frightened, for herself,
but mostly for them.

The Jafari had made it into the first room of the temple. Malcolm
looked like he was starting to fade; Trip took charge. "Myers, grab
Malcolm. Let's move back." He gave Hoshi a gentle push while he
shouted over the blasts.

She ran back, taking her place behind the door and providing cover
fire for the three men to follow her. Myers deposited Malcolm next to
her, then moved to the opposite side to help Trip close the enormous
stone door. They all sighed with relief when the heavy door banged
shut.

The relief was short-lived. "Shh!" Hoshi said, looking up and around.
"What is that?"

They were completely silent. The Jafari were making a racket trying to
open door. But over that, they could here a loud booming sound, almost
like thunder. It was gradually growing closer. As it closed in, the
ground started to vibrate in time with each sound.

"What the hell. . . ?" Trip said what was on all of their minds.
Focused on the sound, they failed to notice the door crack open. Until
a shot blasted Myers in the back, knocking him forward. Hoshi cried
out again; Trip threw himself into the door, slamming it shut again.

They all looked at Myers. His back had been split open by the close
proximity of the shot. Hoshi stared at his face; he looked surprised,
but not frightened. She felt a silly urge to brush his
strawberry-colored hair out of his eyes. Quiet tears ran down her face
and she looked away.

The crashing sound, which they now recognized as huge explosions, was
getting even closer. They could hear the destruction it was
causing—buildings being destroyed, people crying out. At once, they
realized they were directly in its path. "There's no way out," Hoshi
whispered, looking between the two men.

Malcolm's gaze moved past her to the Sh'ron. He turned to look at
Trip, glancing down at his own damaged body. An understanding passed
between them; Hoshi could see it in the way Trip's face tightened.

"What. . . ?" But she knew. She whirled on Malcolm.

"Malcolm, NO. Do you understand me? NO! We're not leaving you!"

The entire temple shook violently with the next blast; Trip barely
kept on his feet.

Malcolm's eyes met Hoshi's. Suddenly, he locked his good hand behind
her neck, pulling her forward full against his body. He planted a
bruising, tender kiss on her mouth. She was swamped with the familiar
taste and feel of Malcolm. She kissed him back just as fiercely.

He pushed her back. His eyes were fired with determination and desire.
"I love you," he rasped.

"I love you too," she choked, running her hands over his face. The
ground shook again; whatever was causing that sound would hit them any
second.

Strong arms closed around her waist from behind. "NO!" she screamed,
clawing irrationally at Trip's hands, knowing she was drawing blood.

He dragged her backwards, and turned his body towards the Sh'ron. Just
as the room lit up, he threw them both inside, angling them so that he
would take the full force of the explosion on his own back.

Instead, there was only quiet. He spun around quickly, but the room
was empty.

Hoshi didn't have to look. Despite the screaming and explosions, she
had heard the sound that mattered the most. The sound that told her
they were safe—and Malcolm was gone.

She turned her face into Trip's chest, sobs shuddering through her
body. He folded her tightly against him and let her cry, only
occasionally reaching up to swipe at the moisture on his own cheeks.

---
EPILOGUE (Part One)
---

He walked back from the fields surrounded by his friends. Gradually,
the crowd of Jafari men dispersed, each to their own home-tree. His
was still the last home in the village, so he finished the walk by
himself, stomping through the leaves that were just beginning to fall.

He smiled when he saw Hoshi standing over the outside cook-fire, a
dark-haired toddler wrapped in her skirts. Looking up, she smiled and
waved, pushing impatiently at the hair the autumn breeze was twisting
into her face. He walked faster, coming to her side and giving her a
heartfelt kiss.

"Hey, darlin'. And howdy to you, too." Leaning down, Trip grabbed the
little boy and tossed him in the air. The boy screeched in utter glee.

Mila shot out of their home-tree. "Trip! Please do not do that! You
know it frightens me," she scolded.

Trip looked sheepish and handed her the toddler. "Sorry, Mila. I
forgot—the kid loves it." He smiled disarmingly.

With Volus back in her arms, she was willing to forgive. She smiled at
him. "Tiron will be waiting for us."  She touched Hoshi's shoulder.
"Goodnight, Hoshi." To Trip's surprise they exchanged a tearful hug.
Next, Mila turned and threw her free arm around Trip's neck.

"G'night," he said, patting her awkwardly. He watched her leave and
turned back to Hoshi. "Y'know, I don't think I'm ever gonna get used
to that huggin' thing."

"Mmm," Hoshi said, continuing to stir the food. Trip dropped down on a
tree root, watching her. She was wearing the rose-colored dress, his
favorite, leaning over the fire again. From where he sat, he could see
where the open collar on the dress exposed an enchanting amount of her
throat and chest. This distracted him for a while, but he gradually
became aware of the silence stretching out.

That worried him. It had taken a long time for both of them to recover
from what happened to Malcolm, but Hoshi especially had struggled with
guilt and sorrow. As the months passed, she came around slowly,
settling back into their old life. They were happy again.

Except for the past few days. Hoshi seemed distracted. He had found
her crying the day before, and she nearly took his head off when he
asked her about it. Sighing, Trip decided to just wait her out. She
would come to him eventually.

As if she could read his mind, her head came up and she smiled at him
warmly. She walked over and sat down, leaning against him. Feeling a
little more confident, he gave it a shot. "So, what were you and Mila
talkin' about?"

She wrapped her arms around her middle and smiled enigmatically at him
from under her lashes. For no reason he could put his finger on, he
suddenly felt very nervous. "What?! Hosh, you're bein' a little
spooky."

"I love you, Trip." She giggled. A very scary giggle, in his opinion.

"Hosh. . . " he started. She took his hand and splayed the fingers
across her abdomen. His eyes got huge, and he beamed.

"You're kiddin' me."

She glanced down, suddenly nervous, then met his eyes. "No."

"Aw, Hosh. . . I'm just. . . well, that's amazin'." He snatched her
against him, squashing her face into his shoulder. She squeaked and
said something against his shirt.

"Ish nosh sho. . . "

"What?" He released her enough to allow her to breathe. She smiled up
at him, cheeks pink with excitement and hair blowing in wisps against
both of their faces. "I said, it's not that amazing, considering how
we spend most of our time."

Trip's jubilant expression changed to a leer. "Ya know, we gotta
celebrate." His hands drifted from her across her back, down to her
rump. "Whadda ya say we take tomorrow off?"

Hoshi grinned. "You talk too much," she told him. And proceeded to
show him more interesting things to do with his mouth.

---
EPILOGUE (Part Two)
---

The temple walls were cracked and crumbling, but it stood, protected
by the mountain that surrounded it. The debris that kept it buried for
so long was gone. A man and woman, dressed in Starfleet uniforms,
walked slowly through to the back room. They stopped in front of the
Sh'ron.

"It is still here," the man whispered. "That's incredible."

The petite woman stepped closer and wrapped her arms around him. He
absently reached up to play with her chin length dark hair.

"Lieutenant Reed."

Both officers turned to face their Captain as he entered the room
behind them. He smiled. "I mean Malcolm. Sorry, Sabah, I'm still
getting used to it."

Lieutenant Sabah Fehr Reed smiled back. "That's all right, Captain,"
she said in her husky voice, and stepped away from her new husband. He
let her go reluctantly.

"Yes, Captain?"

"Do you have all of the hypos?"

"Yes, sir." Malcolm held up a small black bag and the Captain nodded.

"Great. As soon as T'Pol gets here, we can get started." He paused,
looking between them. "Speaking of which, maybe I'd better go hurry
her along."

Malcolm turned to look at Sabah; she was studying the old carvings,
completely absorbed. He turned his attention back to the Sh'ron,
thinking of the last time he'd seen it. He remembered Trip forcing
Hoshi inside, and little else after that, until he'd woken in Sickbay.
A long, long time later.

The Captain informed him that when they never arrived at the
rendezvous point, Travis had come looking for them amidst the chaos.
Eventually he came to the partially destroyed temple—where his
tricorder told him there was one faint human life sign. He called in
the coordinates to the transporter engineer, and Enterprise beamed up
a bloody, burned, still-breathing Malcolm.

Malcolm injuries were extreme. He lived in Sickbay for weeks; his only
company Ensign Sabah Fehr, who had been shot defending the Captain
(earning her a promotion to Lieutenant). She had known his friends
only by sight, but she convinced him to tell her about them and cried
for them along with him.

He thought she was a kindhearted, funny little thing; she was the
first one to get him to laugh after the horrible events on Massum.
Gradually, they became friends.

The romantic side of their relationship had progressed very slowly—and
all at once. For a long time, Malcolm felt too much guilt, and he
refused to allow Sabah to get that close. Until one night, when Jon
Archer had called him to his quarters and told him the truth—the whole
truth—about Hoshi and Trip. As Jon talked, a sharp pain started in
Malcolm's chest and radiated outward.

He sat silently, listening to Jon say, "You can't go back, Malcolm.
And you can't pine for the rest of your life. She wouldn't want that.
She's still out there and she's happy. You should be too."

Malcolm didn't answer. He stood and walked out under Jon's concerned
gaze.

He spent the night alone in his armory, working furiously, unable to
stop his thoughts. He remembered his time with Hoshi, as her
commanding officer, her friend, and then her lover. He thought about
Trip, the man who had become his best friend, and he found himself
smiling.

Sometime around three a.m., Malcolm realized that the pain in his
chest was gone, along with the weight that had been sitting there
since he woke in Sickbay and remembered what had happened.

Without considering the time, he walked out of the armory and straight
to Sabah's room. She took a long time to answer the door, and he
almost left, suddenly mortified as he realized she was likely
sleeping. He turned to go and the door slid open. She was wearing a
violet nightshirt and her usually sleek hair was tousled.

She blinked huge, dark eyes at him sleepily, trying to focus. He
waited, terrified. And she smiled and opened her arms. He stepped into
them, pulling her warm body against him, and found his contentment.

Jon entered the temple room again, T'Pol following behind, and
interrupted Malcolm's thoughts. He felt the Captain's eyes as he
studied the Sh'ron.

"Captain, it's been three years. So much time will have passed for
them. . . do you really think this is possible?" Three years, during
which time they had assumed the Sh'ron was destroyed. Until the Jafari
government, which eventually regained control of Massum, got around to
cleaning out the temple and attempting to reinstate a relationship
with Earth. Enterprise was sent to handle the negotiations—and when
they arrived they found the Sh'ron standing.

Jon shrugged, but smiled. "According to Phlox's data, physically they
had only aged 36 days while they were gone. Which means they'll only
be three years older. . . technically."

Malcolm smiled back at his friend. "I suppose we'll only find out if
we get going."

Jon turned to T'Pol. "Ready?"

"Yes, Captain."

The two of them squeezed into the Sh'ron. Malcolm glanced at Sabah,
holding out his hand. When she took it and he turned back to the
Sh'ron, Jon and T'Pol were gone. Malcolm raised an eyebrow in a
Vulcan-like expression. He still wasn't sure what was going on with
those two. . .

A warm arm draped around his shoulders from behind, distracting him.
The scent of exotic spices, of Sabah, drowned out the dust. She rested
her face on his shoulder and he smiled at her.

"Ready to go, luv?" As he talked, he walked forward, pulling her
toward the Sh'ron. "I have some very important people to introduce you
to."

---

The End