The BLTS Archive - Worthless
#12: Eat, Drink and Be Merry
by miera (mierac72@yahoo.com)

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Archive: Ask first

Date: September 21, 2003

Beta: none. This was written quickly. All mistakes and weaknesses are
mine.

Spoilers: Huge spoilers for 3.02 "Anomaly"

Author's Notes: I thought this particular scene in 3.02 "Anomaly" gave
us some important clues about what Trip's thinking these days and was
intrigued.

Feedback: Is like peanut butter and chocolate together.

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Malcolm entered the Mess Hall and paused. Trip was sitting at a table,
staring at several padds simultaneously. His head was in his hands, as
if it was in danger of flying apart.

Their friendship was running very hot and cold, even more so than
before the attack on Earth. Malcolm could no longer predict what would
make Trip explode in anger, and the engineer had been holding himself
so distant from everyone, Malcolm had made little headway in figuring
out what was going on inside the blonde head. He worried every time he
spoke to Trip, afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing.

Not that it was such an entire change from before the attack. The only
difference now was in Malcolm's motivation. He was worried about Trip.
Not quite as worried as he was about Captain Archer, but the chief
engineer was running a very close second.

Malcolm went to the dispensers, considering what would be the best way
to start a conversation at this point. Trip wasn't sleeping well, if
at all. The entire ship was aware of it. And now all hell was breaking
loose with the warp engines on top of the other little surprises the
Expanse had been throwing at them.

*As if he didn't have enough to deal with before* Malcolm thought
sadly. "You finish rewriting the physics books?" he asked aloud,
trying for their usual bantering dialogue. It felt to him like a
miserable failure.

"I don't think I'll be taking home the Nobel Prize any time soon,"
Trip mumbled without looking up.

"A few hours rest might do you a world of good," Malcolm observed as
neutrally as possible, sitting down across from the dejected engineer.

"No kiddin," Trip growled.

"You still can't sleep?" he asked sympathetically.

Trip sighed. "T'Pol's been trying to help. Showing me how to stimulate
my neural nodes."

Malcolm froze, cup halfway to his lips. His mind started to come up
with a horrifying image which he forcibly repressed.

Trip shot him a black look. "It's not what you think."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking anything," Malcolm responded, wishing it were
true. He grasped his cup tightly to ensure that his hands didn't
tremble.

Trip evidently didn't want to discuss whatever he was doing with
T'Pol. He changed the subject, "How're the weapons coming?"

"The Captain and I managed to bring the guidance systems online but
we're going to need more time for the aft launchers. Fuller. . . "
Malcolm trailed off and Trip looked up, a sympathetic expression in
the blue eyes. Malcolm felt a lump forming in his throat and looked
away. "—knew those torpedo systems better than anyone. He won't be
easy to replace."

Trip looked down again, a forlorn expression stealing over his
features. Malcolm thought perhaps dwelling on Fuller's death was not
the best idea for Trip right now.

"Considering all the hostile aliens we've met I suppose it's. . .
fortunate we haven't lost more people," Malcolm observed, thinking of
all their close calls prior to the trip into the Expanse.

Trip's face darkened further and he stared at the table without seeing
it. "I doubt he'll be the last."

Such fatalism coming from Trip was so unnatural, Malcolm started to
panic. "There's no reason to get cynical," Malcolm protested. Then he
wondered to himself if it was possible that he of all people had just
said that to Trip of all people. *What universe is this?* he asked
himself.

Trip looked at Malcolm bleakly. "Every species we run into seems to be
gunning for us," he pointed out. "We might as well paint a giant
bullseye on the hull."

Anger peaked in Malcolm's stomach. "What do you suggest we do? Turn
around and go back to Earth?"

Trip shook his head. "All I'm saying is that this mission, whether it
succeeds or not, is looking like a one way ticket all the time."

Trip looked back down at his data, his whole body looking morose.
Malcolm felt the proverbial light bulb go off over his head. He
thought he'd just received a valuable key to what was going on inside
the engineer. Now if he only knew how to act on it.

Malcolm looked back at Trip for a long moment. "Better to die trying,"
he said quietly.

Trip looked up at him sharply and Malcolm added quickly, "At least it
would be a death with purpose. Isn't there some famous American
saying, 'I regret that I have but one life to give for my country'?
Although I suppose in this case it would be planet."

A ghost of the familiar smile passed over Trip's face and Malcolm's
heart leapt at the sight. Trip glanced thoughtfully at Malcolm's tea
cup. "Isn't there some other old saying? 'Let's eat and drink before
we die' or something?"

Malcolm nodded. "It's a soldier's saying, from World War I, I believe.
'Eat, drink and be merry, for tomorrow we die'."

Trip contemplated that for a moment, then craned his neck behind him.
"Did you see any pie left over there?"

Malcolm smiled.

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The End