Bane and Shadow

Authors Notes:  
  
Usual disclaimers apply, so please don't sue. This is my first fic, and I think it probably shows. Please read and review, and I appreciate all honest criticism, unless it's about the stupid choice of title – I couldn't think of anything better, okay? :-)  
  
Synopsis:  
  
The crew's rapidly coming down with what looks like the flu, but it seems aliens are involved. You know, the mysterious kind? With me so far…? Good. Then read on…  
  
Spoilers:  
  
None really, just a small reference to a line from "Broken Bow" and some of the themes that appear in it, with reference at one point to a certain Suliban. Oh yeah, and a really subtle one to that hilarious episode where Trip got "knocked up". I laughed through that entire episode the first time I saw it! Oops. Sorry to those who haven't seen it – I'm giving spoilers in my spoilers section! I'll shut up now and let you read the fic – please don't forget to review!  
  
Bane and Shadow  
  
By  
  
Bittersweet  
  
"Hoshi, have you managed to get a message to Starfleet command yet?" Archer asked, leaning forwards slightly in his chair.  
  
"No, sir," she replied, her voice tinged with regret, "I'm getting too much interference from the ion storm."  
  
As if to prove her point, the ship lurched suddenly, and then seemed to steady by itself. Hoshi took a deep breath to steady herself.  
  
"We're going as fast as we can at impulse power, but we're going no where fast," Archer informed her, "and even if we could send a message, I doubt any help would reach us in time…Phlox?"  
  
"Indeed not, captain," agreed the doctor, "although I must admit captain, up until now, we have been very lucky."  
  
"How so?" Archer asked, in spite of himself.  
  
"Well, by now we've come into contact with several alien species," Phlox shrugged, "I am frankly quite surprised we have not yet encountered any illness among the crew as a result of such contact…commander Tucker's, ah, experience not withstanding, of course."  
  
Despite the circumstances, Archer could not help a twitch of a grin. The expression quickly faded, however.  
  
"Are we in much danger?" he asked.  
  
"I'm afraid it's too early to tell, captain," Phlox answered, "so far all I've seen in the crew are symptoms similar to a common earth virus known as the flu."  
  
"Great," Hoshi rolled her eyes, "every time I catch a cold my ears feel blocked – I'll not hear a thing through the communications channels."  
  
"I'm doing my best to contain the illness," Phlox assured her, "however, those affected to do not seem to be responding to any of my treatments. I am analysing blood samples now in an effort to discover some kind of a cure."  
  
"Keep on it," Archer ordered, "how many have been affected by now?"  
  
"Twenty six out of eighty one humans, captain," came the reply, "eighteen of whom I have had to remove from active duty. However, my tests seem to indicate that myself and sub-commander T'Pol are immune to the virus. I shall continue with my endeavours to find a cure."  
  
Archer nodded, as Phlox left the ready room, and then he glanced up at Hoshi.  
  
"Let's get back to the bridge," he sighed.  
  
***  
  
Two hours later, Archer sat in his cabin. Porthos lay on the bed watching him and occasionally wagging his tail.  
  
"I guess you're immune too, huh?" Archer asked, "great – if the rest of us are laid up in bed with flu, you, Phlox and T'Pol get to run the ship on your own."  
  
Porthos cocked his head questioningly. Archer sighed as the ship lurched again. The storm showed no sign of letting up, and he was beginning to wonder why he hadn't ordered Travis to just go around it.  
  
"You can't be afraid of the wind," he reminded himself, wryly.  
  
Heck, they'd flown through ion storms before. Just not with a crew that seemed to be falling sick at the time…Archer got to his feet. Porthos did, too.  
  
"No, you stay here – you don't like engineering."  
  
Porthos wagged his tail again. Archer smiled, and slipped out of the door. Quickly, he made his way down to engineering. He was surprised to find how quiet it was – not the lack of background noise, there just seemed to be fewer people around.  
  
"Several of my engineers are down with this virus," came Trip's voice from behind him, "it's a good job the storm isn't doing too much damage, or we'd be in deep trouble with the staff shortage I got down here."  
  
"Well, we'll do the best we can to keep her in shape for you," Archer smiled, as the two of them walked the length of engineering slowly, "Travis is doing the best he can."  
  
"His best's better'n most people's," Trip agreed, "I'm sure we'll do just fine."  
  
"I'm sure we will," Archer agreed, as the ship lurched heavily, "then again…"  
  
"Reed to commander Tucker," came the accented voice over the speaker.  
  
Trip went to the nearest panel and flicked the switch.  
  
"Tucker here, go ahead."  
  
"Sir, that last surge knocked out two of the torpedo tubes – I'm going to need your help to get them back online."  
  
"Which ones?"  
  
"Two and three."  
  
"I'll meet you at two in five minutes."  
  
"Yes sir. Reed out."  
  
Trip glanced across at Archer.  
  
"Duty calls," he commented.  
  
"Phlox to captain Archer, please report to sickbay."  
  
"Tell me about it," Archer replied, grimly.  
  
***  
  
Archer strode into sickbay with a little more confidence than he actually felt.  
  
"You wanted to see me, doctor?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, captain," Phlox nodded, gravely, "I'm afraid this…illness…is now spreading rapidly amongst the crew. Several of the earlier cases have begun to recover, but the virus appears to be rapidly mutating – the more recently affected are experiencing severe symptoms. Crewman Harris collapsed at his duty station."  
  
"Is he alright?"  
  
"Unfortunately, he has yet to regain consciousness," Phlox led Archer through to where Harris lay stretched out on a bed, his face half covered by an oxygen mask, "I'm doing everything I can, but it seems that every time I come across a cure for the current form, the virus has already become immune to it."  
  
"Some kind of super bug?"  
  
"That is one way to put it," Phlox looked slightly amused at that, "I believe it is more likely an advanced alien organism. It must have a set pattern of growth – as soon as I find the pattern, I will be able to predict it's next phase and prevent it."  
  
"Keep me posted," Archer ordered, "how many crew are infected now? And the recovered?"  
  
"Thirty nine infected, and seven recoveries, captain."  
  
Just then, the door opened, and Ensign Farrows entered, with an unconscious crewman slung over his shoulder.  
  
"Make that forty infected…"  
  
***  
  
"By now, half the crew is infected," Archer informed T'Pol, in the privacy of his ready room, "despite the fact several have recovered, it still seems o be getting worse…so, if it comes down to it…you'll take charge of the ship."  
  
"Of course, captain," she replied, "I am the first officer."  
  
"Your standing orders," Archer continued, "will be to get a message out to Starfleet command…failing that, Vulcan if you have to. Do whatever you have to do to get help for the crew, you understand?"  
  
"Perfectly," she responded, calmly.  
  
"Good," he nodded, "now let's get back to the bridge…we need to try and find a way out of this storm."  
  
T'Pol followed Archer onto the bridge. She knew there were many flaws in his plan to get help – primarily, the risk of exposing others to a highly contagious disease. However, she had learned when to state her opinions, and when to save them. It would be better for the humans if they could hope for help…the disease appeared to e non-fatal, so as long as no emergencies arose there was little logical cause for concern.  
  
***  
  
"Try it now!" Trip called from inside of the tube.  
  
"I've got power," Reed replied, "but I don't understand it – the launch controls still show a negative."  
  
"Let's see – it may be the relays playing up, not the systems themselves."  
  
Trip hauled himself out of the tube, and stretched. Quickly, he crossed over to the nearby console, where Reed stood with his sleeves rolled up and his arms folded, watching the readout thoughtfully.  
  
"Help me get the front off this thing…" Trip told him.  
  
"Aye sir," Reed knelt down, and the two of them pulled the panel off the front of the console, revealing a network of wiring and relays.  
  
Trip poked a few of them experimentally, pushing a few others aside to check the connections.  
  
"Everything seems to be doin' all right…" he reported, as Reed coughed harshly, "hey, you okay?"  
  
"Fine…"  
  
"Hope you ain't got that virus that's goin' around…"  
  
"Don't – I can do without getting sick, thanks. I've still got to realign the…"  
  
He broke off, coughing again as he straightened up. Trip stood up as well, quickly replacing the console panel.  
  
"I'm pretty sure it's not the launch system," Trip frowned, checking the readouts again, "it may be the actual loading bays…"  
  
"We may as well check," Reed shrugged, running his hands along the edge of the tube entrance, "but I'm pretty sure it's got something to do with the actual firing controls."  
  
Trip shrugged. He had a feeling it would be a long shift.  
  
***  
  
  
  
Outside the ship, the ion storm raged on. With her sensors down, the ship had no hope of seeing the tiny, blue-grey hulled ship that sat not far away, seemingly unaffected by the buffeting storm. The leader of the people aboard the tiny ship, its name untranslatable into the human language, made a clicking noise. One of the subordinates answered with a shrill chirp. Had the conversation had equivalent words in English, the conversation would have been approximately this:  
  
"Bane deployed affirmative now. Confirm."  
  
"Confirmed. Hive fleet begin – affirmative now."  
  
***  
  
Archer glanced around the bridge. He'd not seen it this empty of crew since before they'd actually had a crew. T'Pol manned her station, and Travis was at the helm, coughing ever so often but insisting he was fine. Archer had already sent him to Phlox, who'd given him the current dose of effective medicine, stating that he should recover soon enough. Hoshi, however, was gone – Archer had dismissed her to Phlox's care after she'd nearly passed out trying to stand up. There were only the three of them on the bridge, the silence broken only by Mayweather's coughing. Archer was just toying with the idea of bugging Phlox for a progress report, when the ship lurched suddenly.  
  
"Sir, that wasn't me!" Mayweather gasped, "We're under attack!"  
  
"T'Pol, polarise the hull!" Archer ordered, opening a ship-wide alert, "Comdr. Tucker and Lt. Reed – report to the bridge!"  
  
The doors opened, and Archer turned in surprise as Hoshi emerged.  
  
"Hoshi?"  
  
"I'm fine, sir," she assured him, "the doctor dismissed me – he's found an anti-viral that's effective against the less severe cases. I guess I was lucky."  
  
"There's a ship out there that fired on us," Archer informed her, as she took her station, "open a channel."  
  
"Channel open, sir."  
  
"This is captain Archer of the Enterprise," Archer announced, "please cease your attack and stand down."  
  
As if in reply, the ship rocked again, and a console near the back of the bridge exploded in a shower of sparks.  
  
"Evasive manoeuvres!"  
  
Archer felt the ship lurch as Mayweather flung it into motion, and the bridge doors opened, throwing Trip and Reed onto the deck.  
  
"Nice move," Trip commented, getting up quickly.  
  
"Sorry sir," Mayweather shrugged.  
  
Reed took over his station from T'Pol, allowing her to return to her own. Archer pretended not to notice Reed trying to cover up a fit of coughing as he checked the sensors.  
  
"I've got a lock on them, sir," he reported, hoarsely.  
  
"Return…"  
  
"Sir, I'm getting something!" Hoshi interrupted, "it's being broadcast…"  
  
That was as far as she got. A loud, high pitched shrieking filled the bridge, split with the occasional chirping sound.  
  
"Hoshi cut it off!" Archer shouted, clamping his hands over his ears.  
  
Hoshi slammed her hand down on her console, and the noise vanished. Archer shook his head to clear it, as the ship lurched again, and the lights flickered.  
  
"The warp core is off line," T'Pol reported, "ship wide reports of damage to most systems."  
  
"I'd better get down to engineering!" Tucker decided, and left the bridge quickly.  
  
"Return fire!" Archer shouted.  
  
"Aye sir!"  
  
"On screen!"  
  
Archer got his first look at the small ship, as two torpedoes slammed into it…and did nothing.  
  
"Tubes two and three are still down, sir," Reed coughed slightly, and shook his head, "I'm bringing the phase canons online."  
  
"Fire!" ordered Archer, and watched as the pulses of energy slammed into the smaller ship.  
  
"Their shields are down, but…" Reed sounded surprised, "I can't scan inside the ship – the hull is made of an alloy I've never seen before…"  
  
"T'Pol?"  
  
"The ship matches no known configuration, captain."  
  
"Gee, this sounds familiar…!"  
  
"It's a message!" Hoshi suddenly spoke up, "sir, that transmission was their language – I'm trying to translate it now, but the computer is having difficulty identifying any kind of structure or syntax."  
  
"Keep on it," Archer told her.  
  
"They're coming around for another pass," Reed called, warningly, "brace for impact!"  
  
Archer braced himself, and saw the others adjusting their positions and taking hold of something. The small ship came at them, and two shots rocked the ship. Archer felt the ship buck wildly, as the lights went down, and emergency lighting came on. He heard several smaller explosions around him as systems overloaded, before he was flung out of his chair by one last, direct shot.  
  
***  
  
Archer picked himself up slowly, rubbing his bruised jaw.  
  
"The ship is gone, captain," T'Pol told him, as cool and collected as ever.  
  
"Good," was all Archer could think of to say, "Is everyone okay?"  
  
"I will be as soon as I stop shaking…" Hoshi replied, with a slight trace of fear still in her voice.  
  
Mayweather coughed harshly, but Archer could see him grinning despite it.  
  
"I think I broke a finger nail," he complained, good-naturedly.  
  
Archer glanced across at T'Pol, who had raised her eyebrow in response to Mayweather's comment. She returned his gaze evenly.  
  
"I am unhurt," she told him.  
  
Archer glanced around, as the tactical console. Reed was nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a hand appeared over the edge of the console, and Reed tried to haul himself up. There was a deep gash just above his right eye.  
  
"Malcolm?" Archer stood up in concern.  
  
Reed glanced up, and met Archer's gaze blearily.  
  
"Bloody hell," he commented, and collapsed.  
  
Archer knelt down beside him, and glanced around. The other three on the bridge were staring in surprise – well, two were surprised, while the other had just raised an eyebrow.  
  
"T'Pol, you have the bridge for now," Archer told her, "get a full damage report ready. I'll be in sickbay."  
  
He reached down, and lifted Reed easily enough over his shoulder, before heading off the bridge.  
  
***  
  
"We've been incredibly lucky again, captain," Phlox reported, as he passed a scanner over Reed, "with so many crew confined to quarters, there were no casualties."  
  
"Wounded?" Archer asked.  
  
"Several," Phlox admitted, "none seriously. I can't say the same for the ship, however…"  
  
"I'm going down to see Trip now," Archer replied, by way of agreement, and nodded towards Reed, "how is he?"  
  
"The head wound he sustained in the attack I can treat," came the answer, "but he appears to be infected by the virus – my most recent treatment no longer seems to be effective."  
  
"What are the current stats?" Archer asked, rubbing his throat.  
  
It felt dry and sore, and he had a very bad feeling that he was soon going to be adding to the numbers.  
  
"Sixty two of the crew have been infected, and I've managed to treat thirty eight of them," Phlox informed him, "twenty one of which have by now returned to duty."  
  
"Great," Archer sighed, "I have a human crew complement of thirty nine on a ship which has eighty one normally."  
  
Phlox simply shrugged.  
  
"I wish I had better news, captain."  
  
Archer sighed, glanced down at Reed, and then back at Phlox.  
  
"Keep me posted," was all he could say, and headed down to engineering.  
  
***  
  
However, he never got there – half way there, he got a summons from Hoshi to come to the bridge. Quickly he did so, pleased to note that two more crewmen had joined the bridge crew.  
  
"What is it, Hoshi?" he asked, leaning against her console.  
  
"I think I've managed to translate some of the alien language," she told him, "it's like nothing I've seen before – it relies not on words, but on pitch to convey meanings. I'd suspect the alien species are insectoid – particularly considering that they refer to themselves as Hive."  
  
"Hive?"  
  
"That's the best word I could get," Hoshi replied, uncomfortably, "I used the voice synthesiser to put together an approximate message."  
  
"Let's hear it."  
  
Hoshi pressed a button on the console before her, and a monotone voice came over the speakers.  
  
"Hive states ship expansion required. Hive expose to Bane. Hive Bane break ship infestation. Seem not affirmative now. Negative to Hive – Bane not Bane of infestation. Hive state destruction affirmative now."  
  
"That's all there is, sir," Hoshi told him.  
  
"I'm not sure I fully understand the message," Archer admitted.  
  
"I've done some cross referencing with the other languages stored in the database," Hoshi told him, "as far as I understand it, this Hive wanted the ship Enterprise, but not us – we were an 'infestation' so they wanted us dead. That's the Hive Bane part, I think. It didn't work, so they tried to destroy us."  
  
"Bane?" Archer repeated, "Could that be what's spreading through the crew? Could this illness be the Hive Bane?"  
  
"It is possible, captain," T'Pol interjected, smoothly, "I would suggest that the ship be place under quarantine."  
  
"Agreed," Archer nodded, "we can't risk exposing others if it continues to mutate…"  
  
He shook his head slowly.  
  
"Keep up the repairs to the ship," he told them, "let's get out of here before they decide to have another go at us."  
  
***  
  
By the end of the next day, the repairs to the ship were all but complete – many of the healthy members of the crew had worked triple shifts, and even some of those still suffering had dragged themselves to their duty stations. Archer was touched by the crew's dedication. As he walked into engineering, he had a feeling it was going to take nothing short of a crowbar to get Trip away from the warp engines.  
  
"You'll have warp power within the hour, cap'n," Trip told him, without greeting.  
  
Archer heard the hoarseness in the engineer's voice, and winced in sympathy.  
  
"You sound worse than I do," he commented.  
  
Trip chuckled, and dissolved into coughing dryly.  
  
"Look a the state of us," he grimaced, "for once, the ship's doin' better'n the crew!"  
  
Then it was Archer's turn to grin.  
  
"At least we're clear of the ion storm," he replied, "once the ship's in shape we'll concentrate on finding a cure for this, and keep an eye out for those aliens."  
  
Trip nodded in agreement as he adjusted the anti-matter intake flow slightly.  
  
"How's Reed?" he asked, quietly.  
  
"Still unconscious," Archer replied, "Phlox tells me two others are in a coma. It's getting worse."  
  
"Thanks. Cheer me up, why don't cha?"  
  
"I wish I had better news, Trip," the captain sighed.  
  
There was a slight vibration, as the warp engines suddenly powered up. Trip grinned.  
  
"I think I do!"  
  
***  
  
Later that day, Archer found himself back in sickbay. He'd never seen it like this – every bed was occupied, and more people had to lie on the floor.  
  
"The entire crew has been affected by now," Phlox reported, "including yourself, I see."  
  
Archer nodded grimly. He was too tired to argue right now.  
  
"There have been fifty two recoveries," the doctor continued, "however, the virus continues to mutate. On a more positive note, I believe I can prevent those less advanced with the symptoms from getting to the stages you see here. I'm working on a more potent form of the anti-viral agent for use on the more advanced cases."  
  
"Administer to everyone who needs it," Archer told him, "I'll have them report to sickbay."  
  
"You first then, captain," Phlox insisted, "I've already asked ensign Cutler to traverse the ship and administer the injection to those who needs it."  
  
Archer acquiesced to the injection silently.  
  
"I would advise you to get some rest, but I doubt that you will," Phlox commented, "I take it the repairs are almost complete?"  
  
"Yeah," Archer nodded, "how close are you to finding a cure once and for all?"  
  
Phlox considered that.  
  
"If I don't have it by the end of the day, I doubt I ever will."  
  
***  
  
By the time Archer reached the bridge, he was slightly out of breath, but his throat didn't feel so sore and he was thinking a lot clearer.  
  
"T'Pol, any sign of our alien friends?" he asked, taking his seat.  
  
"No sir," she replied, "I believe they went to warp as soon as they left the ion storm."  
  
"Travis, can we follow them?"  
  
"No sir," Mayweather shook his head, "According to Lt. Reed's sensor logs, the storm was interfering too much with our readings to get an accurate lock on their warp signature."  
  
"Captain," T'Pol interrupted, suddenly, "I'm picking up three ships on an approach vector. They match the hull configuration of the Hive ship."  
  
"They must have decided to bring in some back up," Archer noted, grimly, "polarise the hull. Hoshi, open a channel."  
  
"I can't, sir," she sounded puzzled, "they're blocking our signal."  
  
"Battle stations," Archer ordered grimly.  
  
"They're coming at us in an attack formation, sir," the ensign at Reed's station reported, "our phase canons are charged and ready."  
  
The lead ship opened fire, but Mayweather urged the ship to a portside list, allowing the shot to graze past the hull. Archer felt the ship shudder.  
  
"Steady," he said, calmly, "return fire. Take out their shields and weapons if you can."  
  
"Aye sir," the ensign responded.  
  
His fingers danced across tactical, as the canons opened fire. The two lead Hive ships peeled off, but the third took the full brunt of the phase cannon's attack.  
  
"Their shields are down," the ensign reported, "looks like we damaged their engines – they're withdrawing."  
  
"One down, two to go," Mayweather muttered.  
  
***  
  
As if on cue, the other two ships veered around, and opened fire. This time, evasive moves were impossible – Archer gritted his teeth as the ship shuddered under the assault.  
  
"Return fire!"  
  
"The targeting scanners are off line!" the ensign sounded panicked.  
  
"Go to manual!"  
  
This time, the shots went wide, and Archer closed his eyes. He really, really felt like swearing, but not in front of the bridge crew in a battle situation.  
  
"Mayweather, get us out of here!"  
  
"I can't sir! They're coming in for another attack!"  
  
The ship rocked again wildly, and sparks flew from some of the consoles that were still awaiting repairs from the first time around. Archer was vaguely aware of the bridge doors opening and closing again, but he was too focused on the battle situation.  
  
"Evasive action!"  
  
"Aye sir!"  
  
Mayweather punched in the commands, and the Enterprise responded smoothly, avoiding another shot from one of the other ships.  
  
"Return fire! See if you can hit it this time!"  
  
"I'll do my best, sir…"  
  
Archer swung around in shock, as Reed quickly punched a command into his console. The ensign beside him was already working on the targeting scanners.  
  
"I've got a lock on the first ship," Reed reported, quickly, "firing…now."  
  
"On screen!"  
  
The view switched to focus on the first ship, as the phase cannons punched through the ship's shields, and scoured a hole in the hull. The ship veered off course, and began to drift.  
  
"Target acquired," Reed continued, "firing on the second ship."  
  
Archer watched as the phase canons again punched through the shields of the ship, obviously focused on the weapons systems. The third ship had already gone to warp, as the second ship veered around, catching the first with some kind of energy beam, and went to warp.  
  
"Good shooting," Archer said, approvingly.  
  
Reed smiled quietly.  
  
"Thank you, sir. We took minimal damage to tactical systems – my repairs will be completed by the end of the shift."  
  
"What the heck are you guys playing at this time?" came a voice over the communications channel, "I only just fixed these engines!"  
  
Archer grinned and flicked the switch.  
  
"Don't panic, Trip…we've finished now. You can relax. Everything's fine now."  
  
***  
  
"Captain's Starlog, supplemental – we've completed repairs to the Enterprise yet again. My engineering team never fails to amaze me. Doctor Phlox is submitting all his research on the illness known as the Hive Bane to the medical researchers back home – we're lucky to have him aboard – he found a cure just in time, I think. We still have painfully little information about this Hive, or even why they wanted to take over Enterprise in the first place, when their technology didn't seem that far behind our own. After all, they had energy shields the Enterprise doesn't have. I'd be intrigued to learn more about them, but if any other Earth ships encounter them I advise caution. We may meet again. Let's hope next time it's under more friendlier terms. We've proved we can beat them in battle – let's just hope they don't bear a grudge against us. End entry."  
  
***  
  
Aboard the small ship, the Hive leader whistled furiously. The shadowy form before it flickered slightly.  
  
"I told you to destroy them!" it snarled.  
  
The Hive leader listened to the translation, and chattered back in irritation, if the species had such an emotion.  
  
"You've already done enough damage," the shadow replied, "now there's a cure for the Bane, your people will be extinct within two decades, without the means to infect other species with your own disease, to take the technology you are incapable of building yourselves."  
  
The Hive leader wailed.  
  
"It's not my fault," the shadow replied, "we gave you the best ships we have in your time. My advice is to return to the swamp you call home and spend the rest of your life with your people until your sun explodes in fifty years time. Don't worry – you'll all be dead from radiation poisoning thirty years before it happens."  
  
The Hive leader begged as best it could.  
  
"No. There is no mercy. Turn your ships over to Silik. He will return you to your home."  
  
The shadow vanished. The Hive leader twittered sadly. It had wished the best for it's people. Then, it flexed it's proboscis, and chirruped loudly. Had there been an English translation, it might have sounded like; "For the honour of the Hive, we die Free of Bane and Shadows." 


End file.
