"Your Perfect World" Part IV

Your Perfect World.
Author: wombat61
DISCLAIMER: The Enterprise (NX-01) and the characters of Enterprise do not belong to me but to Paramount. I have neither requested or received any payment for this work.

Part Four.

Tucker didn't sleep much that night.

After Reed fell asleep he got out of bed and sat staring out the port at the passing stars. The night was not long. Gamma shift had found an Enolian freighter on long range sensors. The senior staff met with Robinson at 0400.

"Let's do it by the book," he'd said.

By the book was pretty much as Malcolm had described to him. Except that he hadn't realized that Reed would lead a team of security in a Shuttle Pod to 'secure' the Enolian crew while their captain was visiting with Robinson in the Enterprise. Tucker and Kelly checked the security team out before they left -- the six men fully armed with Phase Rifles and sidearms and wearing combat uniforms that Tucker had seen in schematics before, but never had in his hands until now. Branigan also went with them to survey the Enolian crew, similarly uniformed but unarmed. Kelly and Tucker checked out the COMs, tracking devices, and simple telemetry readers in the combat suits before the team boarded the Shuttle. Tucker stood in front of Reed, checking each system embedded in his combat uniform -- matte helmet, heavier boots, and armored jacket providing protection from the throat to the groin.

"Ready, Lieutenant," Tucker said. And Reed gave him a smirk and said, "Ready, Commander," before disappearing into the Shuttle. When Tucker left the bay, he felt his throat tighten up.

Tucker had stood by in Engineering and listened to the COM traffic. The security team had a polite but overwhelming effect. Everything went very smoothly. Tucker was later called to the Captain's Mess, where Robinson and de Silvo were hosting the freighter captain, an utterly cowed man in late middle age. Drinks were there, and food; dishes Tucker remembered from his own visit to Enolia, but the man's glass sat in front of him, untouched. Robinson was friendly, welcoming, but the Enolian kept looking at Meyer standing by the door, the Ensign's sidearm on his hip. The man had agreed that he, his ship's med tech, a young woman, and his engineer's adolescent daughter would have medical examinations, in exchange for some medical supplies and someone checking to see if their CO2 scrubbers were contaminated and could be improved. They would also allow their files of first aid instructions, the med tech's manuals, and a secondary school encyclopedia to be copied.

Tucker suggested Rostov and a crewman go over to examine the scrubbers. While the Enolian Captain was taken aside by Meyer to contact his own crew, Robinson reminded Tucker, "If you have to transport any equipment back and forth, do it in and out of the Shuttle. They don't know we have transporter technology." He added to de Silvo, "I want Charles to ride over to pick up the med tech and the girl; she's good with kids. Feed them if they're hungry. Have her stay with them the whole time. Do it out of sick bay; I don't want them seeing anything in Life Sciences."

The rest of the day Tucker was mostly in Engineering, communicating with Rostov as needed and listening to the COM traffic. Tucker picked up the Enolian scrubbers from the transporter pad in order to make some minor repairs (no one had used the transporter for anything but inanimate objects since Novakovich's death.) The medical exams were made, the files copied. The Enolians were interesting, more data for the mill, but nothing exceptional. The three Enolians were returned in the middle of Beta shift, the med tech with a case full of supplies, girl with an iced cake from Chef, and the captain with Robinson's thanks and a suggestion that the fewer Enolians aware of the details of the transaction, the better. Reed and the team returned, with Rostov, and Tucker and Kelly checked the combat rigs back into the kitting room. Reed said nothing as he shucked out of his rig, but momentarily rested his hand on Tucker's shoulder before he headed to the bridge to relieve Sorensen at weapons.

Tucker had to wait until mid way through Gamma shift before Robinson called them all in again for department de-briefs. They had trailed the Enolians at long range while the freighter resumed its course and speed. Hussein had monitored freighter communications and heard not a thing going in or out of the ship. Reed had kept the weapons systems armed and ready as they monitored their recent guests departure. And finally Robinson had declared a stand down, and said, "And that is how we do that."

Gamma shift took them to warp, headed for the next system they were supposed to chart.

Reed was so long coming to bed that Tucker got up and checked on him in the washroom. Reed stood in the shower stall, pale with cold, the water long since having shut off; slowly tapping the back of his head against the tiled wall, his eyes squeezed shut. When Tucker called his name, he had started; finished his shower and come to bed. He'd lain down and instantly dropped into an exhausted, silent, sleep. Tucker laid awake again, watching the stars go by, listening to Reed breathe next to him in the bed, remembering the frightened looks the Enolian captain had given all of them, and wondering what to do.

ooooooo

Two days later Tucker had a chance to go with Charles when she took Tin Calla to her mother to be nursed. This was done multiple times a day, as the formulas they had tried to synthesize all seemed to make the baby ill. Calla had only been allowed to stay with the baby constantly the first few weeks after the delivery.
There was a guard outside of detention with a monitor to the cell where the Vissians were held. This shift it was Meyer. He logged their wrist badges in, and followed them into the area to let Charles into the cell. Charles was friendly, upbeat. This was part of her routine.

The cell was a bit smaller than Tucker's old quarters had been. The washroom wasn't separated from the rest of the cell; there was just a built up place on the floor for the shower and a transparent partition to keep the water in. There were bunks, one above the other. A gridwork of bars fronted the cell.

Calla and Massy were both thinner than Tucker remembered them. They were both suspicious and ill at ease to see him. Tucker stayed well back while Meyer unlocked the door.

"You," Massy said quietly.

Tucker merely nodded.

"Don't be that way, Massy," Charles said. She stepped into the cell and took the baby to Calla immediately. Tin Calla began to make little keening noises when she was in her mother's arms. Calla sat on the lower bunk facing away from them and Charles helped her with the baby.

Massy snapped at Tucker, "Don't stare at my wife. Come over here."

Calla jerked at the words and shot a frightened look over her shoulder.

Tucker quietly murmured, "I'm not ma'am." But he followed Massy to where he stood at the cell's corner.
Charles had learned to speak Standard, but Massy and Calla were being translated. They wore plain uniforms, but had no WSF patches.

"When's that last time you got out of the cell?" Tucker asked.

"We're allowed in the gym under guard every other day," Massy responded. "But you didn't need to ask me to find that out."

"Probably not," said Tucker. "I was just wondering what might be done so you could be out of here more often."

"This is a new idea? They send you down to try to get us to behave instead of de Silvo or your friend Reed? You tricked us once before, you won't do it again. I've no interest in playing the good little slave, like it does," Massy gestured to Charles.

Tucker said, "You shouldn't show her contempt if she does what you taught her to."

"What?"

"Obey. Be used. Be an object, like a loaning library book. You think that's how we treat her?"

"You don't understand. You never did."

"I've read the interviews we've had with Charles and with you and Calla. You've had opportunities to explain. But you've never done so. Charles has told us a confusing story about growing up on a sort of Cogenator farm. And then leaving to stay with different couples after she went through puberty. You two were her fourth, and a bit more interested in seeing her comfortable than the other ones. To us, that sounds like treating someone like a slave."

Tucker continued. "Charles spends most of her day with Tin Calla. Don't you think your wife should have that opportunity too? Shouldn't you have that chance? If I could have children, I'd want to spend time with them."

Massy rubbed his hands through his hair. "I don't want to talk to you any more." He said. He went to the bunk where the baby was nearly finished eating. All three of them held her and admired her. Calla and Charles almost seemed like friends. The Cogenetor told the mother about what the baby had done and asked questions about taking care of her. Massy ignored Charles as much as possible, but was never rude or aggressive toward her.

Tucker stood and watched them until Charles said it was time to leave. Both Massy and Calla very carefully stroked the baby's forehead in a certain way and said something the translator didn't pick up. Meyer came and unlocked the door, letting Charles and the baby out. Once they were out of Detention, Charles asked Tucker if he wanted to carry the baby and he did. She was darling. He hadn't had a baby in his arms for years. He wondered if Lizzie's youngest felt and sounded and smelled like this.

"Charles," he asked, "Do you think Massy and Calla can ever be trusted to be treated the way you are, and allowed some of the run of the ship?"

"I wish they would," she said. 'But Massy is so angry. He's stayed angry. And you've said that he knows too much about engineering to be trusted, Commander Trip. He wants to be loose."

"How about you Charles? Are you angry? We killed a whole ship load of your people."

She seemed to consider. "I wish they would have let me go. But they wouldn't have. I wasn't really one of them. You didn't want to kill them."

"So you forgive us?" Asked Tucker, the baby warm and alive in the crook of his arm. "Don't you want to be loose?

She laughed. "But I am loose. I go all over the ship. I go to the gym and to dances and have dinner with you and Commander Reed. I read everything. I go down to planets with you in landing parties. I've even climbed a mountain. One day Commander M'Butsu says we'll be back on Earth. Then I can do even more -- I can go to the university. All I'll have to do is keep in touch with Star Fleet medical."

"Don't you think Star Fleet will want you close by Massy and Calla so they can have another baby?"

"Maybe," said Charles. "But Lieutenant de Silvo says that if Massy can't be more cooperative, we may need to suspend him, once we're more familiar with his reproductive system. I wouldn't like that, it would be better if he cooperated. They're reproducing the suspension technology back on Earth, based on what you've done here."

Tucker almost asked her what exactly she meant. But had a sudden feeling that he ought not to.

Later he checked the system schematics for Life Sciences. But what he read didn't make sense. The Suspension Systems just appeared to be one more part of the storage systems in Life Sciences. One he seemed to have designed and built himself. His design notes had been classified -- one of the few areas of the files he still had no access to. He could ask Rostov to open them for him, but he decided not to.

ooooo

On Beta Shift, Tucker COM'ed Ensign Branigan.

"Branigan, you're listed as point of contact for the Suspension Systems. Is that right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, is something wrong with them? I heard something today about something in Life Sciences, I think it was the Suspension Systems, having some problems?"

"Gee, Commander, I don't know what's the matter, if anything."

"Maybe I should come by and you show 'em to me. Let me check them out."

"Yes, sir." And she gave Tucker the section number location.

Tucker arrived making his way to the section area Branigan had given him. He was just down the same aisle he'd been in with Charles a few days earlier. The ends of the opaque vats fronted on the aisle, two deep, each one about a meter wide and half a meter tall. The caution notice was as he remembered it, "CAUTION: Do not disengage nutrient and waste tubes without suspension closeout sequence activated."

Branigan greeted him. "Commander Tucker. I've run a few diagnostics. I can't find anything wrong with the units."

"May I?" he asked. And punched in the codes for the diagnostics. The routine paced through with no faults found.

"Can we take a look in one of the active units?" he asked.

Branigan duly keyed in some commands and untoggled the lid of the top unit. Then she lifted it open and Tucker looked in.

The creature was humanoid, but looked reptilian. The tubes going in and out of the body appeared at first to be a tangled mess, but Tucker was sure that each one was carefully and efficiently inserted, doing its job of feeding and removing waste. It was very much like the system Captain Archer and SubCommander T'Pol had described; the one they had rescued Mayweather from. Parts of the workmanship were very familiar. He knew he'd built this machine himself.

Perhaps in reaction to the light, the creature's eyes opened slightly, and looked past Tucker. There was no spark, no hint of recognition, merely life, without any substance.

He pulled his head back and motioned for Branigan to close the vat. She did so, and she punched a few buttons to pull up vital signs. She checked these, muttering under her breath. Then she reset an alarm and stood to face Tucker.

"No, sir, they're all just fine. --Say, are you okay, sir?"

He had been trying to catch his breath as she worked.

"Fine," he said. "Ah'm fine. Glad it's okay. Thanks for checkin' it with me."

"You look awfully pale, sir. Can I help you to the sickbay?"

"Uh, no. No need."

There was a roaring in his head as he started down the aisle. He passed the otter-people's cage quickly before the female could call for his help again. He passed Tin Calla's nursery room -- the baby just down the aisle from living death. He made it out of Life Sciences, fumbling with his wrist badge to access the door. 'There might as well be a big metal work sign in an arch over the door,' he thought. He was in the main B Deck passageway when he reached a public WC and locked himself inside. Tucker didn't actually vomit, but he sat on the floor with his back against the door, his head turned so the cool metal touched his face. He stayed there a long time.

Reed hadn't really answered his question. But, there was nothing they would not do to accomplish their mission. They were not cruel for cruelty's sake, but if cruelty was called for, yes, they could do that. Logically, efficiently, someone would do whatever it took. And then that someone would perhaps get himself drunk, or dance until she was exhausted, or merely beat his own head slowly against the shower wall.

When Tucker came out, he had decided what to do. It was only a matter of finding the right circumstances.

___________

Reed knew something was wrong. Tucker could tell that he thought so, so he tried to avoid having any meaningful conversations with his 'partner'. He insisted that they eat with others in the mess hall. He suggested that they work out in the gym. He insisted that they go to movie night. There was another dance, and when the couples' dances started he pulled Reed out onto the floor. Reed placed his hands so that Tucker would lead, and he did so, dancing very awkwardly but getting through the number. Several people beamed at them as Reed took them off the dance floor when the music stopped.

"Don't do that again," Reed snarled at him under his breath, without looking at him.

"What?"

"Don't just do it to jolly me along. Don't patronize me."

But later Reed apologized 'for snapping' at him, saying that he knew Tucker was just trying to make him happy, but he realized that Tucker wasn't very comfortable yet. Tucker agreed to everything, and spent as much time as possible working. He spent longer hours in engineering. He spent some of his free time going with Charles when she visited the other Vissians, standing outside the cell and letting them get used to his presence, letting the guards get used to his visits and used to seeing him in the passageways on D deck.

___________

The right circumstances found Tucker far faster than he had anticipated. They came to an Earth type planet with a space faring civilization, its sun part of a loose star cluster. It was a trading hub for the surrounding systems. The fastest ships visiting appeared to be less capable than Enterprise's technology. But with trade as important as it was, the planetary defenses were highly capable. "As good as Earth's," pronounced Reed with a nod.

The command staff determined that this would be ideal for collecting data on the surrounding systems, and the races living there. The planet would be treated at the higher levels of the protocol, with trade and purchase having no coercive tactics. Any alternatives offered far too much risk, with the weapons capabilities of the home world and what appeared to be allies and trading partners, dozens of ships entering and leaving the system daily. Robinson shared the stats they were collecting from orbit at twice shift staff meetings. The planet surface was made up of several continents, with cities covering most of the landmass, and one large 'artificial' city area at sea.

"You could really get lost down there, " Robinson said.

The Captain made contact with planetary authorities, and after a few days of trial communication, Hussein felt that, with the translators, he would be able to handle their needs. Security was humming, with Reed pulling double shifts each day. Planning was put into effect for the first landing party, actually visiting a space station for the first contact face-to-face. Robinson, Hussein, Reed, de Silvo, and additional security and life sciences crew would make up the first 'landing' party.

Reed said good-bye to Tucker at breakfast. "I won't see you until two days from now," he said. "Remember you're due in sickbay tomorrow for another check-up. "

"Malcolm, those things are getting old."

"Not that much longer before this probation is going to end, Trip."

I hope so. Tucker thought. If I get away with this.

The landing party was away. Alpha shift was coming off and Beta coming on. He'd prepared everything. Planned everything. Massy was a superior engineer; they'd suspected that the Vissinas were familiar with transport technology themselves.

Tucker waited until just after the time he knew Charles returned Tin Calla from a feeding. He made sure by COM'ing her on some subject and finding that she was returning the baby.

Tucker stopped by the nursery, waving hello to the crewman on duty; he was used to seeing Tucker visit the baby. Tin Calla was asleep and didn't even stir when he attached the tracker to her sleeper.

He paused outside of Detention and hid his wrist badge in a recess between two panels, where he had listed a phoney repair order. He used a controller to activate the sensor control unit he'd planted in the monitoring system two days earlier. He'd be able to remove it later if he made sure he would be part of the investigation that would take place. Whoever was on duty would now be getting a continuous loop at the station, the sensors were off line. Tucker hit the tracker in his own pocket and then thumbed the control for the
transporter. He'd tested it once before. He dematerialized in the passageway and when his vision cleared he was outside the Vissian's cell.

Massy leapt to his feet and Calla gave out a little cry.

"Shut up," Tucker said to them. He worked the transporter remote control unit again and Tin Calla appeared on the floor of the cell, still sleeping. Massy gaped at Tucker, but Calla merely picked up the sleeping infant.
"What are you doing?" Massy asked, wide eyed.

"Do you want out of here or not?" said Tucker, handing them both trackers through the bars and shaking the objects in his hand until Massy took them. "Put these on. The planet below us is highly populated, advanced, and heavily armed. They've got ships coming in and out constantly. Once you get down you get rid of those trackers and lose yourselves down there, hear? Good-bye and good luck."

He worked the remote again.

Nothing happened.

What the hell was wrong?

Massy and Calla started and jumped, each time Tucker told them to keep quiet. The remote control seemed to be working, but it was as if someone had shut down the transporter itself.

It was only a few minutes when the door burst open and Ensign Meyer ran in, phase rifle at ready. Charles was right behind him, crying out, "They have the baby."

"Commander?" said Meyer. "What's going on?"

It all went in a blur then. Like a bad print on movie night, whole sections skipping and burnt spots on the original.

Massy and Calla were shouting. The translator cursing Tucker. Meyer was flustered, but held the rifle on Tucker as Charles took the ensign's key to open the cell. She must have wanted to get the baby back. Tucker was shouting for her not to, shouting at Meyer not to let her. And Meyer was screaming, "Shut up, sir!"

One more security man came in, phase pistol on his belt, in time to see Charles fighting with Calla for the possession of the baby inside the cell. Charles managed to kick Calla and when she loosened her hold, Charles fell back with the baby in her arms. Tin Calla was screaming that high pitched, animal-like wail that all infants seem to have. The security man drew his pistol and waded in to grab Charles by the collar, probably to drag her out. That was when Massy jumped at the man, shoving him into the wall and Tucker tried to get past Meyer to save Charles.

Massy fumbled with the pistol. He screamed, "She won't live in a prison!"

He fired directly at Charles, Tin Calla still in her arms. Charles saw and flinched at the last moment, wrapping her arms around the baby, before Massy pulled the trigger and the bolt caught them both. It wasn't on stun. The smell of burnt meat filled the air. Massy turned to face Tucker.

"You monster," he said and raised the pistol. The beam wasn't well aimed. It hit the wall behind Tucker and Meyer and melted some of the bars at the front of the cell, great goblets of molten metal flying through the air and spraying them.

Meyers dropped the Vissian with his rifle still safely on stun.

Tucker put his hands up when Meyer told him to. He lay down on the floor when Meyer told him to. Meyer was so upset he kept jiggling the rifle, occasionally poking the muzzle into Tucker's back and neck.

"What the hell were you doing? Mother of God! What the hell were you doing, sir?" Meyer screamed at him.

Tucker lay on the floor with his hands above his head, his head turned so the cool metal touched his face. The burnt stench was unbelievable.

ooooo

They treated him in sickbay, Ensign Meyers holding a phase rifle on him most of the time. Reed was not there yet, but the landing party was returning. Doctor Gupta and Ensign Schliecher were efficient and as silent as possible, and did not speak to him. He asked once where Charles and the baby were, but no one would answer him. It was a stupid thing to ask. He knew they were both in the pathology lab of Life Sciences. They'd probably perform autopsies and preserve the bodies. And one day, after a lifetime of tests and examinations, the Vissian engineer and his wife would join them, their dead daughter and her dead cogenetor, a complete set, as stored specimens at Star Fleet Medical, or at the World Health Organization.
After the treatment for burns and bruises, he was locked into a small cell in the detention section. He lay on the narrow bunk and listened to the sounds of the ship and the Vissians. He could hear Calla crying from time to time.

Eventually, he wasn't sure when, he heard Reed speaking to the guard. He sat up.

"I'll see Commander Tucker now. Captain Robinson gave me authorization, and permission to have the sound pick-up muted."

There was a pause. And then the guard, one of Reed's own people, said in an embarrassed voice. "I'm sorry, sir, I have to -"

"Scan me. Yes, right. Here's my sidearm."

And then Reed was let in. He silently came and sat next to Tucker. He was scowling, but his shoulders slumped in dejection. They both sat silently for a long while.

Reed spoke first.

"How could you do this? How could you do this to us?" His voice was quiet and hard.

"It's wrong," Tucker answered. "I told you. I had to free them before Massy was suspended. I still can't believe that this is what our mission is."

"Our mission," snapped Reed. "It was our mission. Yours for the last two years!"

Tucker started to open his mouth, but Reed cut him off, turning on the hard bunk and advancing on him so fast that Tucker's head thumped against the bulkhead as he withdrew. Reed's face was no more than a few inches from his own, the gray eyes wide and blazing.

"Now you listen to me, Charles Tucker," Reed said, his voice pitched very low. "Your career is over. We are going to rendezvous with two other Star Fleet ships in a month's time. The Chef Engineer on one of them will take your place here, and the three Captains will convene a court's martial over you. "

His voice broke on the last sentence and the pain showed in his face.

"No matter what they find, you will be transferred to one of the other ships and you will go back to Earth. Trip. You've got only one chance. Almost no one here can really believe that you aren't a loyal Human and a loyal Star Fleet officer. There's no doubt in anyone's mind, that you are now mentally disturbed and not totally responsible for what you've done."

"But?" said Tucker, leaning back, trying to avoid the intense gaze eating into him.

"Doctor Gupta feels certain that even unbalanced as you are, you can't have done this without being fully aware of the breach of orders you were causing, the treachery of your actions. She wants to see you found guilty of dereliction of duty, disobeying orders, and treason. She wants to make sure you end up in prison or in a hospital for the criminally insane. That's going to be her recommendation. She's afraid you'll commit acts of terrorism."

"Malcolm, do you think that's what I did?"

Reed's voice shook with anguish. "I think you've been pushing around a boulder of guilt, and none of us saw it until -- all this happened. But it doesn't matter what I think, Trip, even though I noticed that someone was working with the transporter days ago and we alarmed the system as a safety precaution! Bloody Hell! If only I'd known it all -- we could have recaptured them, instead of having that confrontation."

Reed caught himself, biting his lip. He continued, trying hard to keep his emotions in check. "There is absolutely nothing I can do for you; not now. They'll give me the option of not testifying against you because of our union, that's all. I think I can help you more if I do testify."

"But you listen, Trip," Reed's voice was pleading. "If you show remorse, then they'll have some mercy on you. Tell them the things you've told me about what you think your past is really like. Tell them about an alien telling you that you don't belong here. Tell them that despite what you did, you're sorry, you felt guilty and you didn't understand how badly you were behaving. They'll believe you. You'll be found innocent by reason of insanity and discharged from the service and into care."

Tucker looked at Reed sadly. Oh, he thought, there is no way out of this. None at all.

"Malcolm, I can't. Yeah, I can tell them the truth. But I tried to get the Vissians away because this is wrong. This. Our mission. I couldn't stomach the thought of Massy going into that thing I designed. Later I was going to try to convince -- you -- Robinson -- everybody that this can't be the right way. This is evil. It's worse than evil because good people are doing it; because you're doing it."

Pain flared up in Reed's face. "Oh, God, Trip, if only we'd seen how guilty you felt over the protocols. If only I'd seen! We could have helped you before this breakdown."

"That's not it," Tucker interrupted. "This mission is wicked, Mal. There's got to be a limit --"

Reed took him by the shoulders. "Stop saying that! You keep that up and they'll find you guilty for sure. Listen to me! Captain Robinson and M'Butsu -- they're your friends, they know you. Nobody wants to think that a conscientious, sane officer, with a family and two childbearing sisters at home is suddenly going to sabotage our mission. You're ill, Trip. Admit it and they won't punish you! You can be sent to a decent hospital with skilled doctors, and you must let them treat you. When our mission is over, I'll come back home and I will come back for you. Your family and Jon Archer will help me get you out. I promise you, Trip, I will. You can get better, if you just go along with us!"

Tucker started to shake his head.

Reed cried out and slipped off the bunk, onto his knees in front of Tucker. He gripped Tucker around the waist and pressed his face against Tucker's chest, his dark hair warming Tucker's throat. Tucker could feel Reed's body shaking and he held his own arms back, not touching his friend.

"Oh, Trip," Reed moaned into him. "Please Trip, ask forgiveness and it won't be that long, I promise. We just want to help you, Love. Please, please tell them you're sorry. Tell them you didn't know what you were doing. Tell them you can't stand me and your life with me; that I drove you to depression, anything. Just don't put your head in the noose Pavati Gupta's got ready for you! Please, for my sake, don't do it. Trip, if you ever loved me at all, don't."

Reed cried, "I can stand losing you. But I can't stand the thought of you locked in a prison or a mad house for the rest of your life!"

Tucker felt like he was being ripped apart. Charles was dead. The baby was dead. He'd freed no one. He'd helped no one. He'd broken Malcolm's heart.

And he knew that if he told Reed, 'yes, I'm sorry, I'll ask forgiveness,' he knew that if he hugged Reed back, or even touched him, that he'd go up like a pile of dry straw in a bonfire. It would be so easy to just give in to them. Lizzie, his family, Reed, Robinson. Tucker knew it wouldn't take much to give in to all this -- all these good people trying to save humanity.

"I can't," Trip said. "I'm sorry Malcolm."

Again, it was if Reed had read his mind. His friend looked up into his face. "What's wrong?" he said. "Trip, what is wrong? We're trying to save our people, ourselves. Think of all you have and all you can have. Your family. People who love you. If you let us help you, you'll even be able to work again, not in Star Fleet, but you can still --"

Trip turned his face to the wall. "No," he repeated. "It's not right."

"But what about humanity? What about your nephews and nieces? What about your sisters? Aren't they worth it? Aren't they worth it, no matter what we have to do?"

'Lizzie,' Tucker thought, 'I am sorry. I am so sorry.'

Tucker put his hands over his face and choked out, "No. No, they aren't worth it!

"Nothin's worth this. It's too much! Better for humans ta' die than do the things we're doing now, an' the things we'll be willin' to do one day."

He was weeping and shaking. The tears were coating his hands. He was numb. He felt nothing but the wetness of his own tears. He heard nothing but the sound of his own breath.

He slowly realized that he no longer felt Malcolm's arms around him.

Tucker put his hands down. All he saw was white. There was no sound but his own heartbeat. He was alone.

"Really?" The stranger was right behind him, leaning over his shoulder. "Is that what you really want?" Tucker stared at him. The stranger looked surprised.

Tucker woke to familiar ship sounds. The background hum of the engines -- impulse, he recognized, probably about a quarter light speed, blowers, a COM in the background. And a too familiar beeping noise. Medical monitors. He was in sickbay. Again.

He groaned and blinked his eyes, trying to focus. Someone came up and took his hand.

"Doctor, he's waking up," said Reed, standing by Tucker's side.

"Malcolm," said Tucker, "there was -- someone -- on the hull --" he was coughing again, great hacking coughs. Reed efficiently grabbed him by his arm and the waistband of pajamas he was wearing and helped him roll over. Other hands were on him -- he felt a firm hand cupping his back with light blows.

Phlox was saying, "He'll be all right. He's not choking. Just clear your airway, Commander."

He was laid back. Phlox wiped his face with a damp cloth.

"Kelly?" he choked out.

"Resting. Getting better," said the doctor, and he smiled, too wide. "Ensign Kelly has moderately bad burns on her abdomen and one hip. Capillary damage and frostbite from the vacuum, but she'll recover nicely."

Reed let go of Tucker's hand. "You saved her, Commander," the Lieutenant said quietly with a little smile.

"What about that -- alien, or whatever he was?" asked Tucker.

Reed glanced to the doctor, and back to Tucker. "Well, we heard you out there. But we couldn't find any trace of any alien or a member of our own crew. There are no warp signatures or other signs of ships. And nothing here inside Enterprise, either. Kelly wasn't able to confirm anything about an intruder. You'll need to tell us more."

Tucker described the figure while Doctor Phlox examined the biobed's readings and ran a scanner over him. "It looked like a human male. Tall, light complexion, dark hair. It spoke -- English Standard."

"It spoke to you? You could hear it?" Phlox said, "but it wasn't on a COM?"

"Yeah, yeah. Said a bunch of crazy stuff, too. And hell, it was like I wasn't 'here'; I was somewhere else, 'there'. It took me somewhere else."

Tucker shook his head. He held his right hand up. There was nothing marked on the back of it. No code. He reached out and grabbed Reed's hand and looked at the back of it. There was no marking and Reed flinched. Tucker stared at Reed. Reed had been surprised when Tucker had taken his hand.

He was absolutely certain he was back. He was back to 'here'. He said, "I don't understand what happened, but... but..." Tucker's voice trailed off.

He was absolutely certain he was back from 'there'. He was back to everything that was 'here'. Everything that had been 'there' was gone. Everything. Humans weren't dying out. They weren't kidnapping people. He'd find T'Pol was the head of the Science Department, and a brig will two cells, and no detention facility on D Deck. He felt tears coming to his eyes.

He'd never see Lizzie again.

Tucker lay there and wept. He didn't make much noise, and once Phlox made sure that this wasn't a symptom of something worse, the doctor left and pulled a curtain around the bed. Reed stayed with him, looking confused at first. Then the lieutenant put one hand on Tucker's shaking arm and just left it there. After a little bit Reed said, "Trip. I'm so sorry." And then Reed was just silent and stood by him, rubbing his arm.
Tucker wanted to tell Reed that he was sorry, too. He had made no choice. He had done what he had done with no thought that any of his actions might change his situation from 'there' back to 'here'. He had wanted his sister back, he had wanted to give her a hug and tell jokes with her, and sit in her kitchen and have those little kids run over to him and call him 'uncle.'

But he hadn't wanted to live, couldn't live and be happy as a man who would exchange Lizzie; who would exchange any good thing at all; for beings who had done them no harm, to be trapped in cages, driven mad, the souls sucked out of them. How could he have been happy for Lizzie and also have been happy to watch Reed boarding ships, extracting data, killing people who'd never done them any harm in order to cover their tracks and hide what they'd done? If he could only have the one with the other, then he was relieved that he had gotten neither. And he was terribly, terribly sorry that he was relieved.

He was back where he'd been before. Millions had been killed. There was a hole in his heart where his sister had been. Earth was in danger. He wanted revenge; he wanted some sort of justice. Finding it. He had to find it. But he was less sure how to find it.

Captain Archer came in shortly. Reed started to back out through the curtain, but Tucker caught him by the hand before he could leave. "Thank you, Malcolm," he said softly.

"It's all right Commander," Reed said, a bit self consciously, glancing at Archer, and he gave Tucker's hand the lightest of squeezes. "I'll get your report in a moment."

Tucker managed to sit up and wipe his face. It was so good to see Jon. It almost made up for the rest of it, at least for the moment.

"Trip." Archer said, "Phlox's said you were awake, but -- 'distraught.' Are you okay?"

Tucker nodded slowly. "Pretty okay. I'll be okay one day, I think."

"What did you see out there? We've been raking the hull looking for an intruder."

Tucker nodded. "Yeah, I saw something, but I don't think we'll ever find it. It would be good if we did, but… I don't think we will. We'll ask Kelly, but I doubt she'll remember."

"That wasn't all, was it?" asked Archer. "Something else happened? Something while you were unconscious?"

"Yeah. It did, Cap'n. I don't suppose I'll ever be able to explain it. I'll get it in a log for the record, but a psychologist might make more sense of it than a physicist."

"Bad?" Said Archer, putting a hand on Tucker's shoulder.

Tucker looked into Archer's face. "Sir, it was real. While it was happening, it was real. And, yeah. Bad. Real Bad."

Archer kneaded Tucker's shoulder and asked quietly, "Trip was it about the attack? It's like I told you, we'll do whatever it takes."

With a sharp intake of breath Archer stopped speaking when Tucker suddenly turned his face away and a silent shudder ran through his body. When he spoke again Archer couldn't understand Tucker at first, but made out the words the second time Tucker said them.

"Please don't say that again, Cap'n. That's not what you mean."

Archer paused in shock, trying to find the right words. Then he said, "Trip, I can't imagine what would be worse than what you've had to go through in the last year."

Tucker finally relaxed again under Archer's hand. The Captain's friend turned to him again. "I'm glad you can't, Cap'n. I'm really glad that you can't. It was too easy for me. Maybe it'll be harder now."

END

Return to Part 3

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This material is posted here with the author's express permission. Please do not repost this material without permission directly from the author.

Feedback? Comments? Thanks! Drop us a few lines: tm_comments@gmx.net

A whole bunch of folks have made comments

Great stuff. Really good. I loved this story; it worked on so many levels. If only all the episodes were this good...

Excellent! What a wonderful alternative world, so creepy and deceptive. I am left wondering, which I'm sure you intended, if there is an alternate universe or if this was Trip's "A Christmas Carol" or "It's a Wonderful Life," with Q as the ghost or an angel, to show him that he can recover from his sister's death.

Powerful! I hope you keep writing.

Ooooh...is that alternate univeres supposed to be THE alternate Universe? I think it is! and the way you had it forming-priceless.

But, oh, we need a sequel. :) Mal and Trip need to be TOGETHER. :)

Thank you for your kind comments. I recently corrected some typos I found in "Perfect World" and posted on the Yahoo-groups Slash site. However, if anymore Tucker and Reed tales occur I imagine I think they will like a home here, first.
No, this isn't the Mirror universe. These people are way too caring for each other to possible end up with "Agony Booths" and "Assasination as advancement in the ranks". Don't count on sequel. For all I know this never happened at all, or maybe the 'here' and 'there' Tuckers just end up with some confusing memories. You're so Three Dimensional! But don't quote me ...
Thank you all again.

I enjoyed this story tremendously! It was very interesting, well-written and well-thought out.

Thank you for asking us to post it on our site, wombat61. We are always looking for great stories to add and I was very happy to add your to our archives.

If and when you do write another story, whether it's a sequel to this one or not, we'd love to have it here first. I'm glad you considered our site a good home for your first story.

Wonderful. I'd love to see this as a two-part ep. Not only does it deal with the whole Trip guilt/anger/vengance aspect, but it also deals with Archer's near bloodlust. The idea of doing whatever is necessary to exact revenge or justice is something that the world has to deal with now, and that Enterprise has to deal with while in the Expanse. But, to do so, how much of our own humanity is left? Are we willing to revert back to ways that make us out to be the bad guys for the sake of our own lives and the lives of others like us? Do we become a sort of Hitler when it comes to wiping out entire races just to make us 'feel' safer? Do we blame problems or issues we have with others on all but ourselves? This is what needs to be looked at, both in reality and on Ent.

Getting down from my soapbox now......

Short review, but all the same.
Spectacular! What a wonderful tale! Everything seems perfect, until he lives the life for a time. And Charles still dies.

Tucker stared at Reed when he flinched (back in the right universe.) Did he stare out of relief, or regret? Possible sequel material there? Pretty please?

Great job, once again!

gosh havent read it all yet so i htought i'd print it n read it at skool ect, then i saw the size of it, 61 PAGES!!! this'll take me a while but worth it enjoyes whati've read

Wonderfully crafted. This is what fan fiction is at its best: a warning and critique, and yet also a celebration. The visual of Malcolm in the shower, eyes shut and head tapping against the wall, was so perfect -- just one example of your terrific visuals and restraint. This will haunt me. Thank you for sharing your lovely work.

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