1. Chapter 1

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

**Disclaimer:** I don't own them; I just play with them now and again. What you recognize belongs to Paramount. The names you don't recognize belong to me.

Set in Season 4. There's six months between the Vulcan Civil War and the Conference at Babel One. I'm making the most of that time.

_The New Doctor_ takes place in the first two months after _Kir'Shara_. _Renaisterre_ occurs directly after those events. _Ulnythian Games_ is related to the events in _Renaisterre_ and takes place in late August/early September.

**A/N**: Drinking, smoking, cursing, kissing and kicking butt are a few of my favorite things. Please read responsibly!

* * *

**Chapter One**

_Starship Enterprise_

_Mess Hall_

_Late August 2154_

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed had been working in the armory when the computer notified him of the opportunity he had been looking for. He leaped out of his chair and in spite of the repair crews in the corridor made haste straight into the turbo-lift, heading directly to the Mess Hall.

It had been seven days since the starship _Enterprise_ had left orbit around a world known as Renaisterre. Two weeks prior, the NX-01 had encountered a life form so dangerous that the ship had been evacuated for several days. The life forms, dubbed 'space frogs' by the new doctor, had destroyed or damaged a good deal of the ship during their mating cycle before being ousted from the ship with extreme prejudice. Repairs were progressing swiftly; after eight months in the Expanse putting the ship back together again was as familiar to the crew as tying their shoes.

There was just one little problem that remained frustratingly elusive: the condition of the captain. Dragged into a local conflict on the dying planet Archer had been injured, as had several other members of the crew. But unlike the other crewmen, whose conditions were made known to the appropriate department heads, the captain had not been seen since before they left that world. The doctor and the XO were known to meet frequently and speak in hushed tones, but remained maddeningly hard to pin down with a response to inquiries about Archer's recuperation. Dr. Andrea Brainerd, "Dr. Andie" to one and all, and temporary acting Chief Medical Officer while Phlox recuperated from a serious illness on Denobula Prime, could evade and prevaricate with the best of them. She'd certainly been tested this week.

She was about to be tested again.

No sooner had Reed entered the nearly empty Mess Hall that he saw her, tilting dangerously far back in her chair to shout through the swinging door. "I'm serious, Chef! If this burger is this good all the way through, I'm coming in there and I'm going to have, like, _ten_ _thousand_ of your babies! Seriously! Drink some juice! You'll need the energy!" She leaned further back in an attempt to shout that last before the door slid closed to the galley and almost toppled over. She caught her balance and rolled all four chair legs to the floor as Chef's face appeared in the oval window in the doorway. He signaled something to her that made her laugh. Her brief guffaw disappeared as soon as she caught sight of the armory officer.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," she apologized. "I didn't know you were standing there."

"I have the late shift today," Reed prevaricated. "Lieutenant Truax insisted I get some extra sleep. I'm just here for a quick cuppa before duty calls." He offered a courteous nod, hoping to appear congenial and non-threatening.

"Babs is a pistol," Andie agreed, wrapping her hands around an enormous cheeseburger. It looked like something a cartoon character would have to unhinge his jaw to consume, but she managed to get her mouth around it just fine. It didn't leave any further room for conversation though, effectively terminating any decent attempts to chat.

Reed moved toward the drinks dispenser, amused that his equally staid second in command allowed the physician to refer to her as "Babs". _Perhaps Barbra Truax didn't know_, he mused. _Maybe he would mention it to her later_, he considered mischievously. Unlike anyone else who entered the dining hall at this time, the doctor didn't appear to be eating from leftovers; it seemed Chef had made her a special lunch. And the doctor seemed to be offering her utmost concentration to eating the giant sandwich rather than socializing with the tactical officer. Malcolm wasn't going to be so easily dismissed. Not after he went to so much trouble to track her down in order to take the doctor by surprise by upsetting her new habit to dine at different hours than most of the crew. He grabbed the steaming mug and returned to the only occupied table in the room. "May I join you, Doctor?"

The inquiry was just as polite as she had come to expect from the unassuming male, but she knew him better now that they had fought together, holding the enemy line from one another's back. His genteel persona was an illusion. He was a predator just waiting to pounce.

It took a while to chew the entire bite, and she eyed him curiously as she finished. "If you like," she inclined her head to the other empty seats before opening her jaw and taking another massive bite of her monster burger. Her cheeks bulged at the size of the bite.

"You must have missed lunch again," Malcolm noted, calmly sipping hot tea and holding a data pad in front of his face as though he was reading reports. "You'll make yourself sick."

Andie swallowed the mouthful and dabbed daintily at her mouth with her napkin. "Are you keeping an eye on me, Lieutenant? I'm flattered by your interest. We only spent one night together. Are you trying to make it two?" Chameleon eyes fluttered shamelessly in his direction.

It was true; they had spooned together for warmth after an unexpected dip in a mountain stream, but it had not been sexual in nature. Her tone was definitely warm enough to make his cheeks flush, but by now he realized that flirting was her way of keeping distance between them and he refused to give in to his unease. He eyed her over the top of his pad as he sipped his beverage. "Actually it was two nights," Doctor," he corrected her. "I know that any disturbances to the peace will most likely occur around you, Doctor. I'm just being thorough in my tactical assessment of the ship."

She smiled sweetly at him as she finished swallowing the food in her mouth. "Yes, I forgot about the night you drugged me; so good of you to remind me." Andie enjoyed the way his jaw clenched in irritation. Sipping her soda, she went on in the same playful tone. "If you need help with your tactical assessment, I'd be happy to assist." She reached for the pad he held with her mustard covered fingers.

Too quickly he snatched it away before she could verify her suspicions that the pad wasn't even turned on. "I'm perfectly capable of managing the tactical assessments, Doctor. That's why they pay me the big bucks." He watched her finish the last of her cheeseburger before attacking the garlic and onion smothered fried potatoes with gusto. "You must be quite busy in Sickbay. You haven't been in the Mess Hall during regularly scheduled meals in some time."

"There's always something that needs my attention," she agreed congenially, popping two wedges into her mouth at a time.

"That I can believe," he noted directly. He delighted in the way her lips pressed together at her unintentional lead. Malcolm delicately took another sip. "What holds your attention today?"

"Burns, bruises, rashes, breaks: the usual," she shrugged indolently. Altering the topic in the hopes that he might become distracted, she opted to inform him about his staff still out on sick leave. "You may be happy to know that Crewman Moreno will be returning to light duties soon, and Corporal Parsons has nearly completed her physical therapy. Your staff will be intact quite soon." Moreno had a large chunk taken out of his shin by the 'space frogs' and Parsons had twisted her knee during a reconnaissance mission.

"What about Corporal Finn?" That inquiry wasn't meant to lead her anywhere. He was genuinely curious about the fate of the young marine felled by the inhospitable atmosphere of the dying world. He had a strong reaction to the lingering radiation in the air.

It shouldn't surprise Andie that he was keeping tabs on all of the crew under his command, but it did. Not all department heads were so considerate of their underlings or conscientious of an unrelated topic in the midst of their interrogation, polite though the inquisition might be. "Not for several days, possibly a week," she answered honestly, finishing her potato wedges and moving on to the bread pudding. "He's responding well to the respiratory therapy."

Once she finished dessert she would be leaving; he didn't have much time. "How's the captain?" he challenged directly. He was tired of stepping gently around her anyway.

"He's fine," she offered shortly. She sucked the last of her soda through the straw, making a loud slurping sound as she reached the ice at the bottom.

"Do you know where I could find him? I need to gain his authorization for some repair work," Malcolm stood when Andie did, as she cleaned up her plate and tableware.

Andie shrugged. "I don't keep tabs on his whereabouts as a general course of business." She dumped the empty plate in the bin for dirty dishes and knocked on the door leading into the galley, waving at the workers inside and giving them a thumb's up before heading back to the table.

"The computer can't seem to locate him," Malcolm pointed out.

"What are you talking about?"

It was quite infuriating that she looked genuinely puzzled; was their conversation so inane that she couldn't keep up with him? "He's not in his quarters, or his ready room. He's not on the bridge or overseeing repairs anywhere on this ship. The computer can't find him."

"Hunh," she grunted, picking up her medical kit and slinging it over one shoulder.

"The last time someone went missing like that, it's because you were playing fast and loose with the bio-sensors," he pointed out.

"I don't play 'fast and loose' with the bio-sensors," she snorted, picking up two large data pads and tucking them under one arm.

"In fact the only person who could verify that he was even on board when we left Renaisterre is you, Doctor," he stated directly, moving to stand in front of her and block her path to the door. "That makes you the last person on board to have seen him with your own eyes."

"That's a dubious honor, to say the least," Andie muttered. Crewman Marcil poked his head out of the kitchen and offered a thermal satchel to the doctor and a suspicious glance at the lieutenant. The young woman's arm sagged as she took the bag; clearly it was heavy.

"So where is he?" Malcolm demanded.

She would have throw up her hands in confusion if she had any left to spare. "I didn't see him in the Mess Hall but I'll keep my eyes peeled," she told him in exasperation. Brushing past him she had to use her elbow to press the button to open the doors. "Happy hunting!" she grunted with a grimace.

Malcolm was reminded that she had suffered an injury while on Renaisterre, and worried briefly that she was carrying too heavy a load for her stitches to bear, but he forced himself to show her no pity. "Perhaps I'll just start interviewing every member of the crew, and see if anyone else has seen Archer recently!" he called after her down the corridor.

"You do that!" she retorted before the turbo-lift doors opened and allowed her to step inside. As soon as she was safely ensconced behind the double doors, Andie juggled items until she could flip open a personal communicator. "I told you Reed was going to be a problem," she told the person who answered. Their conversation was brief.

Malcolm stepped back inside the Mess Hall and returned to his tea. If he really wanted to start an investigation, he could probably start with the galley crew. He wondered what had been in the satchel they sent with her when she had obviously just finished an enormous meal in a matter of minutes. He was just placing his mug in the dirty bin when a call came for him over the intercom.

* * *

_Commander Tucker's Quarters_

_01:36 hours_

Trip was tempted to ignore the chime at his door. He was exhausted and couldn't think of anything but the comfort of his bed, which had only recently been released from the repair list. The room steward had seen to it that he had clean sheets and all he wanted to do was climb in and dirty them up again. However there was a possibility, no matter how miniscule, that something was about to blow up and the Chief Engineer had to look at it now rather than later. With a hefty sigh he opened the door, weariness making him oblivious to the fact that if his presence had been an emergency someone would have paged him rather than coming to his door.

He was not especially pleased to see Lieutenant Reed on the other side.

"We need to talk," Reed began without preamble.

"Can this wait?" Trip begged. "I'm about beat and..."

"This can't wait," Malcolm interrupted. "I promise to be brief." He pushed his way past Tucker's taller frame and into the snug cabin.

With an extremely deep sigh, Trip closed the door and turned around, folding his hands across his chest and looking impatient. Malcolm wasn't looking too hot either, he noted. He knew that Malcolm's cabin was also cleared of debris; he wondered why the lieutenant wasn't in it.

"The captain is missing and the doctor knows something about it."

Blue eyes rolled to the ceiling tiles before crossing to look at the tip of his nose before finally rolling to a stop, more or less in regular formation. "You have got to be kidding me," he hissed. _Those two had been dueling more or less ever since she came on board. It was growing less funny all the time!_

"Hear me out!" Malcolm pressed, surprised at Trip's lack of reaction. _The Captain was a friend of the Commander's; surely Tucker would be concerned more than any other crewman at the news?_

Tucker rolled his head around on his tired shoulders. "I thought you made peace with the Doc so we wouldn't keep havin' these little outbursts of yours," he snapped. "Why don't you just ask her out already?"

"This isn't about...I don't want to _date_..." Malcolm sputtered. He stopped and tried again. "The captain is missing. Nobody has laid eyes on him since we got back to the ship. The doctor is the last person to see him and she is going to extraordinary lengths to keep from answering any questions about him!"

"Extraordinary lengths?" Tucker repeated. His brain was too fuzzy to really put this in perspective.

"I asked after the captain when I had lunch with the doctor," Malcolm started.

"I think you're working too hard. You had lunch with _me_," Trip pointed out. He'd only popped in for a sandwich and a bowl of soup, but he remembered the lieutenant sitting there and watching the door, sitting up sharply every time it opened. If he'd been a guard dog, his ears would have perked up and his tail would have wagged.

"I went back for a cup of tea," Malcolm covered, feeling his face flush.

"You just said you were havin' lunch," Trip pointed out.

"Do you want to hear this or not?" Reed demanded.

"Not!" Trip chose, perking up and moving toward the door again.

Malcolm didn't budge. "When I asked the doctor about the captain, she suggested that she hadn't seen him," he told Trip.

"And?"

"Archer's injuries were extensive. She would have to see him for check-ups," Malcolm pointed out.

"How do you know his injuries are extensive if she's not saying anything?" He was so tired it actually hurt to think logically.

"Because the explosive powder I designed would have caused extensive damage to anybody standing that close to it. Even Sergeant Chang had burns to speak of." Perhaps that was the root of the problem; Malcolm felt like he was the one to have blown up the captain. Which was ridiculous; he hadn't planted the barrels of chemicals in the Great Hall. And he had no proof that the captain had indeed been blown to smithereens.

"Maybe...maybe she thinks his medical check-ups are nun'yer business," Trip pointed out.

"As the doctor was leaving, I suggested I may interview the crew to find his whereabouts. Two minutes later, Commander T'Pol contacted me over the intercom and suggested I personally oversee the cleaning and repair of the phase pistols. I worked on minor problems until long after my shift ended this evening."

Cloudy blue eyes struggled to keep the lieutenant straight. "I don't understand the connection," he finally admitted. "And you're running out of time," he yawned.

"T'Pol and Andie are conspiring to keep the captain's condition away from the crew," Malcolm announced quietly, looking around as though they might be spied upon in Tucker's private quarters. "That's why T'Pol ordered me to complete a task that should have been assigned to a junior member of the armory staff."

There were several reasons the first officer might have wished the commanding officer to see to that task, but Trip was in no mood to rib Malcolm about it. "You think the captain is missing and that T'Pol and Andie are hiding him; is that about it?"

"I don't think; I _know_ the captain's miss—"

"_Is that about it?"_ Trip repeated himself irritably.

"Yes, sir," Malcolm agreed, responding to the crabby tone by standing up taller and squaring his shoulders. He couldn't help it; it was an ingrained response.

Trip sighed and counted to ten silently. "I'll talk to them about it," he conceded defeat. "In the morning!" he added hastily, in case Malcolm expected him to get right on it.

"Thank you, sir! The morning is just fine! T'Pol wants me to oversee the repairs in the aft phase cannon assembly! I'll see you some time tomorrow!" He noticed he was being hastened toward the door. "Is there someplace you'd like to arrange to meet and share information? Do you think you'll get the chance to talk to them in the early morning or the—?"

The door closed in front of his face. He didn't take it personally; Trip had always been particularly prickly when he was tired. Reed was just happy he got all the way through his story before Trip became completely unbearable. Nonetheless he couldn't resist pushing the intercom button. "Thank you, Commander." He released the button and started back down the hall, unaware of the brief bout of cursing that followed his last remark from the other side of that closed door.

* * *

_Sickbay_

_Late Morning_

Andie looked up as the double doors swung open. Her shoulders relaxed somewhat when she recognized the genial engineer. "Commander Tucker! What can I do for you?" she asked with a smile that was almost genuine. "Another analgesic? Something to keep you sharp?"

"Actually it's what I can do for you, Doc!" Trip grinned. "I hear you're still having trouble with the imaging chamber. I'm here to offer my services."

"Surely the Chief Engineer has better things to do than worry about my little ol' imaging chamber," Andie grinned easily in return even if her smile hesitated. "I can wait for the engineering team."

Trip raised an eyebrow. "Rostov says he's not coming back because he's already fixed this thing three different times already. At the moment you're stuck with the Chief Engineer."

Dr. Andie pressed her lips together and shrugged. "Whatever!" she threw up her hands. "You know where it is." She went back to her station in the middle of the room and started fooling around with one of what looked like dozens of data pads lying there. Flopping down into her chair, she slurped from her thermal mug and propped her feet up on the counter in her customary slouch.

Tucker dropped his took kit and looked surreptitiously around, feeling a little dopey for enabling Malcolm's insanity regarding the doctor to continue. That's when he noticed it; the heavy lock on the isolation room door. Its red lights indicated the lock was engaged. The isolation room was just big enough for one gurney to fit inside and was used for several different reasons. It was an exam room for autopsies in the event of a death. In the event of a contagion, it was meant to isolate one person for the duration of their illness. It was occasionally used as a surgery when stricter sterilization procedures were needed.

Nobody had died. Nobody had the plague and they weren't having surgery because the doctor was out here. There was no reason for that door to be locked. He checked back over his shoulder at Andie, noted her feet were still propped on the table before he scooted across the floor to fiddle with the lock. The usual command officer's override code didn't work on the door. Tucker frowned and tapped the four digits in again.

"Something wrong, Commander?"

The inquiry came from right over his shoulder. _Son of a bitch! He hadn't even heard her chair squeak or her footsteps!_ "Why's this door locked?"

There was a pause. "Is it locked? How odd!" Andie covered hurriedly. "I'll ask Ian about it."

"Don't you have the code? If it's not supposed to be sealed, I can get a tool and cut the door open," Trip offered.

"No worries!" Andie chirped. "I'll ask around. There's nothing in there so it's not a priority."

"Well since I'm here..." Trip insisted doggedly.

"I wouldn't dream of dragging you away from my imaging chamber!" Andie assured him, scooting him across the floor and back to his tool kit. "I could really use that thing!" she nodded at it, a far cry from her 'whatever' attitude of a few moments ago. "Maybe I can get a code breaker from the Comm. staff to fix that," she pondered out loud.

It was Andie's great misfortune when a member of the Comm. staff entered the medical ward at that exact moment. "Doc? Can I get an analgesic?" Hoshi called out. "I've got a headache from looking at all the array specs."

Trip looked with fake delight at Andie who looked annoyed at the newcomer. "Sure, Ensign," she answered agreeably.

Your timing couldn't be better!" Tucker chirped.

"Shut up, Tucker," she growled.

"The Doc was just sayin' she needed a code breaker," he went on, ignorant or uncaring of Andie's growing temper.

"Don't make me break _your_ code, Commander," she threatened lightly, before stepping over to the newcomer. Trip grinned defiantly as he returned to his work. Andie tested Hoshi with the medical scanner and administered the mild analgesic when she got the results.

The attention Andie gave to the linguist gave Tucker the opportunity to slide off the cover and check the imaging chamber with his scanner. Once he got the results, he rubbed his eyes and checked again. The machine said the imaging chamber was offline, but the power surge in the motor suggested otherwise. In fact, the power surge in one area but not the others suggested a minor relay issue; one that could be misdiagnosed if the attending engineer wasn't looking for something hinky.

Hinky is what he found. He crawled into the inner workings of the mechanism and found that someone had removed several relays deep inside the unit. His hands were too big to fit through the hole and grasp them; though he could guess whose hands had been small enough. He lay there a long moment, thinking about what this meant. First of all, it meant that Malcolm was _not_ blinded by his attractions to the doctor and that she really was up to no good. Second of all, it meant that Archer really _was_ missing and the doctor knew something was going on. Thirdly of all, since T'Pol kept a close eye on the repair logs, she had to know that something was going on with the imaging chamber, and that meant that in all likelihood she was covering for Andie.

It really was a conspiracy. "There'll be no living with him now," Trip huffed in exasperation.

"What?" Andie's voice came from outside the imaging chamber. She must be spying on him to get that close; her exam of Hoshi must have set speed records.

"Talking to myself," he replied before pushing his body back out of the mechanism.

"You can't live with yourself?" Andie queried lightly.

"I'm too damn good-looking," Trip teased in response. "On top of all this gorgeousness I've got a set of brains too!"

"Yeah? Where you keepin' those?" Andie's eyes deliberately drifted down toward his waistline when she asked; using the same southern inflections in her words to him that he used every time he spoke. She had a knack for languages that was rivaled only by her sarcasm.

"In my other pants," he joked. His eyes weren't smiling along with his mouth though. "I gotta get some more conduit. I'll be back." As he knelt down to replace his tools in his kit, he noticed something about the Isolation Chamber. Now it had a bigger lock on it and if the keypad was any indication, it would require a ten-digit code to open. She'd double locked the door while he was occupied elsewhere! When he caught her gaze settling on his, he turned his mouth upwards into a smile as though nothing was amiss. Then he stood up and went to find someone else to give him answers.

* * *

_Science Lab D_

_Later that Morning_

Since the Bridge was still unfit for personnel and the Command Center was still being used as the temporary Bridge, Trip found T'Pol working in one of the minor science labs. "You still working out the data on that Renais Project?" On a world teetering on the edge of death, a machine had been programmed to breathe new life into the natural order. It was remarkable for a society that still hadn't mastered rudimentary engines. Starfleet had taken many scans of the equipment before they left.

"The science is incredible for such a non-industrialized society," she remarked. "They must have had an extremely advanced civilization once. To rebuild their world from scratch a thousand years after they had passed on would take an aptitude for planning and forethought that is quite impressive."

"I wish we could have spent more time there," he agreed. "It feels like we rushed right out the door when it was getting interesting."

"It was necessary to leave," she reminded him.

"Yeah, well, I would'a liked more time to check things out," he admitted honestly. To be honest, he had been kept so busy with the Renais Project machine that Hess had been left in charge of the repairs on the starship. She'd done a bang-up job too; he was going to have the face the idea that he would lose her assistance soon. She was too good to remain as his second. The Vulcan was looking at him and Tucker realized his mind was wandering. There wasn't much else to do but start in on the deceit. "Speaking of repairs...how's the captain? I haven't seen him lately," he asked breezily.

T'Pol lifted her head from the microscope and tried not to sigh with frustration. "I am certain he is fine," she answered.

"You don't know how he's doing?" Trip lifted his eyebrows in surprise. "I mean, I know I've been busy with the repair schedule, but I would've thought that you would be on top of the Captain from day one!" An especially dour look from the Vulcan made Trip rethink his words. "You know what I mean," he mumbled as a way of apologizing.

"He is fine," she answered, letting the matter go and making a notation in the computer.

"He's fine?" Trip repeated.

"Yes," she answered shortly.

"That's the answer I always get. 'He's fine.' That's all anyone ever says," Tucker grumbled.

"Perhaps it is repeated because it is true," T'Pol suggested.

"I'm a senior officer, and more than that, I'm his friend. You can tell me if there's something going on," the engineer told her, trying not to feel personally slighted for being out of the loop. "I know he was injured."

"Perhaps you should direct your inquiries to the doctor," T'Pol told him.

"Andie said that his medical file is none of my business."

"That is true."

"How do I make it my business?" Unconsciously his body language was growing more threatening.

"Ask the captain and get permission." The Vulcan seemed unconcerned about anything more than her experiment.

"I can't get past the guard at the door!" he burst out. "Why isn't he back in his quarters?"

"Why don't you direct your inquiries to the doctor?" she repeated, feeling bad that she was sending an angry man back to the doctor, but running out of things to use as a distraction.

"Because I'm asking the first officer!" Trip was annoyed enough to run a hand through his already touseled hair.

T'Pol stood straight and still for a moment. She picked up another data pad and consulted it carefully. "I see that the imaging chamber is still on the repair list," she remarked.

"I've already sent three teams! What's wrong with it now?"

"Medical results cannot be obtained while the machines are malfunctioning."

_She really wasn't going to say a word to him!_ A cold hand gripped Trip's chest in a frightening clutch. There's really only one reason they would be keeping anything this important a secret from the senior officers! "I'll get right on it then," he gritted out through clenched teeth. "Thank you for your big help!" he tossed back as he hit the button and left the room.

As soon as the door closed behind the engineer, T'Pol moved to the comm. "Tucker is going to be a problem as well," she told the person who answered.

"_You said it would only be for a couple of days. It's been six. We can't hide from them forever."_

"How is your work progressing?" T'Pol inquired stubbornly.

"_It would go faster if I didn't have to hide the work I'm doing from all the intrusions." _The doctor sounded annoyed.

"We must keep them at arm's length for a short time longer," T'Pol assured her. "It should not be difficult to keep them so busy they will not have time to loiter in Sickbay."

"_You and I against the Disaster Twins?"_ Andie's voice sounded grim. _"I think we could take them in a fair fight, but I don't think they're going to play fair."_

* * *

_Reed's Quarters_

_Evening_

This time it was Malcolm that answered the door to find the engineer jostling from one foot to another. His blond hair still bore traces of engine oil at the tips. It had taken him all afternoon, but he was sure he had the Imaging Chamber back online. If he was the paranoid kind, he might think that she had sabotaged it further after he left that morning. In fact, he was certain that was exactly what she had done. He had completed the repairs without a word, but he was fuming at her gall. All this time she had pretended to be not so skilled on mechanical things, but she seemed to have a spectacular grasp of how to screw up the machine in her laboratory!

Tucker stepped all the way inside the room and waited until the door was completely closed before beginning. "T'Pol's lying; I'm sure of it," Trip whispered in Reed's ear.

"They are in it together!" Reed hissed in annoyance, hitting his fist on his open palm.

"Conspiring!" Trip added unnecessarily. He didn't stop moving; his feet were restless.

"We've got to get in there!" Reed began pacing back and forth.

"What do you propose?" Trip snapped. "How do we get in there? They've got it locked up like Fort Knox!" His angry paces brought him to the edge of his room so he turned on his heel and paraded in the other direction, passing Reed as he did so.

Having the third in command on his side brought a small feeling of relief to Reed's mind. He'd spent the afternoon tearing apart the phase cannon assembly and mentally creating some rather interesting possible missions to steal the captain out from under the doctor's nose. In spite of the crowded workspace and the tedious task, Reed had a pretty good afternoon, picturing that damned woman flattened under his onslaught. "She's there at all hours!" Reed fumed, passing Tucker going the opposite direction. "I stopped by at 0200 hours under the pretext of needing a sleeping agent and she was still there even though I know she was also present in Sickbay at 0600 hours the morning before because she administered my allergy shot!"

"What about that access tube where we spied on her and Phlox watchin' movies?" Tucker suggested. In spite of his ire, his mouth twitched. The female had been showing Phlox dirty movies to assist his curiosity about human sexual reproduction. In fact the Denobulan had stopped asking personal questions during routine exams since then. _This was not time for laughter_, he ground his teeth.

"That's no good," Malcolm shook his head. "She's had the tube sealed off, possibly related to our previous spy work, or possibly because she's living there now." The last came out rather bitter. The doctor never left Sickbay; she just slept on the couch in Phlox's office.

Trip frowned, spinning on his heel again. "If she's not getting enough sleep, maybe I could talk to T'Pol about orderin' some bed rest. Phlox has done that to me a time or two."

Now Reed frowned. "I don't want to put her on alert." He'd reached the end of his pace and turned slowly, lost in thought.

"Well then how do you expect to get that woman out of there?" Trip rejoined. "She's sleepin' in the office! Chef loves her; he brings her snacks in there! She never has to leave the damned medical ward if she dunnit want to!" He stopped in front of bathroom and shoved a hand through his greasy locks, wishing the water was working well enough to take a quick break for a long, hot shower. But that repair wouldn't be completed for another day or so.

Reed sighed in frustration. "She can't just live there! She has to go somewhere!" He spun around and watched Trip roll his aching neck around on his shoulders as the dim lighting from the lavatory haunted his expression. A dim light lit up his brain as well.

"What if there was a medical emergency?" Tucker suggested. "If someone was injured, she'd have to come see...What's on your mind, loo-tenant?" He recognized that triumphant look.

"There is one activity that nobody misses," Reed grinned. "But we'll need to be discreet. If she catches wind of something amiss, she'll change her schedule or her habits and we'll never get in there." He rubbed his chin with his hand. "How much time will you need to cut through that lock?"

"If I get a big enough torch, not long at all," Tucker found himself grinning back, even if he wasn't sure of all the details yet. He didn't have long to wait. Reed outlined a plan that was brilliant in its simplicity.

It also kind of hinged on Reed's compulsion about monitoring the doctor's every move since she came on board. For just a moment Trip was tempted to forget that bit; goodness only knew what Malcolm had found out about him during their first weeks in space. But no matter how paranoid the armory officer was, he was still the man to get the job done.

* * *

_E Deck, Junction 6_

_Next evening_

Ensign Travis Mayweather was a genial person and a good man to have on your crew, but subterfuge required subtlety and Reed wasn't certain the enthusiastic young man was right for the job, although Tucker vouched for him with ease. Luckily Mayweather's penchant for playing practical jokes came in handy; when Reed was looking for a good reason for the Ensign to walk into the medical lab and make certain the doctor was not in it, Travis didn't ask many questions. He just assumed Malcolm was playing a prank on a member of the medical staff. That was true enough, Reed supposed.

Most of the crew was still double-bunked and even fewer had their personal lavatories back online. The only showers that were working with any efficiency were the six stalls in the MACO gym. T'Pol had made a schedule that offered six people thirty minutes every other day to take a shower. The schedule was adhered to with a strict zero tolerance policy for loiterers and late-comers. Reed just happened to know that Andie's shower session was schedule forty-five minutes away, and he wanted Mayweather to let him know when she left the medical lab.

Tucker arrived in his appointed holding pattern, bearing the materials that were necessary to the sting. He felt a little silly hunkering down over his tool kit and trying to look casual, but these were desperate times. Travis passed him as he walked toward the medical wing, winking with a conspiratorial grin. Tucker absently nodded his head in acknowledgment. Reed passed by the T-junction at the end of the corridor after Mayweather had turned the opposite direction and offered a subversive nod to acknowledge his partner's presence as he approached.

"Are you ready, Commander?" Malcolm inquired. His nerves had settled into a state of calm frenzy, waiting tensely to be called into action whether that be fighting or fleeing. Butterflies wrestled his insides and his heart pounded in his chest. He loved a good offensive. The game was nearly afoot when his communicator chirped.

"_Sorry to bother you, Lieutenant_." The voice belonged to Crewman Foster, the security agent in charge of overseeing the shower line this evening.

"Go ahead, Foster," Reed answered in a clipped tone. At the end of the corridor, Mayweather stepped back into view and shrugged his shoulders; he looked perplexed.

"_There's a disturbance down here and I thought...-"_

"Damn and blast!" Reed hissed, snapping the communicator shut. "I don't know how she did it, but she's gotten out of our net again!"

"You have no way of knowing that," Trip pointed out. "He just said it was a disturbance! You didn't even give him a chance to tell you who..."

"Oh, believe me, Commander. It's her!" Reed turned on his heel and stomped down the hall to the MACO gym.

* * *

_MACO gym, F Deck_

_Evening_

Malcolm Reed brushed past the line of ladies queuing at the door and spoke quickly to Crewman Foster. His suspicions were confirmed and he slapped the button that allowed him to enter. "Doctor?" He all but bellowed the word. He didn't have to look very hard to find a familiar pair of soft-soled shoes poking out from under one of the partitions and flung open the door. "What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

A slender hand reached out from behind the rubbery curtain and a wet head followed. "It's not rocket science," Andie purred, peering out of the curtain with one eye squinting against the spray of water. Soap drizzled down her neck from her lathered hair. "If you're not here to wash my back, do you mind closing the door? This isn't a peep show." She chuckled when he pulled the door closed before interrogating him from behind her curtain. "The question is what are _you_ doing here?"

For just a second he faltered, but he gathered himself and jumped in. "There was a complaint made that a crewman had jumped the queue, and as you know, Commander T'Pol has instituted a strict schedule that allows..."

"I read the memo!" she snapped. Her voice was muffled as she rinsed the suds out of her hair. "I didn't jump anything! I followed procedures! Didn't I, boys?" she called out.

"Yes, Ma'am!" several voices chorused from the other shower stalls.

Her voice was mushy as she continued doing whatever she did in the shower and Reed's overactive imagination was happy to fill in the blanks. "Crewman Ross came into Sickbay with a cut on his arm. It wasn't serious, but he needed a couple of stitches. I suggested he keep it dry and he said he'd miss his turn in the shower. I had just finished one project and if I started the next one, I would have missed _my_ turn, so I asked him if he'd mind if I took his turn."

Corporal Romero started the recitation in the strict cadence of a marine sounding off for his superior. "Doctor Brainerd was escorted to the room by Crewman Ross, sir!"

"She was announced before she entered and her request was put before us all, sir!" That came from Ensign Tanner, one of the pilots in another stall.

"We all agreed it was fine, sir!" That was Ensign Jenkins, from engineering, in the cubby at the end.

"And then the question was put to Dr. Andie how she'd feel being naked in a room full of virile and delectable men, sir," Corporal Woods purred.

"I told him I'd been surrounded by well-armed men before. This wasn't all that different, except for the size of the weapons," Andie responded saucily. "It's not like we're all in the same bathtub. The partitions leave plenty of privacy." The water stopped flowing in her cupboard and Malcolm became acutely aware of the high humidity in the air around him. A trickle of sweat trailed down his spine as he heard her wet foot step out of the shower followed by the sounds of clothing being rustled. He cursed his brain some more for filling in pictures that were irrelevant to his current operation.

"Who made the complaint, Lieutenant?" Crewman Rostov's voice was clearer now that the water had shut off in his compartment as well. "Was it Haley?" Michael Rostov was dating Haley Carter and she seemed to hold a grudge against the doctor.

Malcolm shifted his weight. "I don't think that matters," he answered in a strangled voice.

"It matters to me, sir" Rostov muttered, opening his door. He had pants on but his chest was bare. Woods had a towel wrapped around his waist but flicked the end of another towel at him. Rostov ducked and smoothed his hair back with his hands.

"Anyway," Andie cut in, "I had every right to be here and you came all this way for nothing." She opened the door to her dressing area, dressed in scrubs and dragging a comb through her wet hair. "I hope I didn't pull you away from anything important, Lieutenant," she smiled.

"Not at all, Doctor," Malcolm shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I was nearby when I heard the call. I'll leave you to finish dressing." He also had to get to Commander Tucker before Tucker started working on the locked door in Sickbay. They'd never get done before Andie got upstairs to Sickbay.

"Don't _trip_ on your way out," Andie smirked.

_Was that his guilty conscience or did she just make a smart remark?_

"There's enough steam in here to make you think it is _May weather_."

_That was definitely not an innocent remark. She knew! God only knew how, but she knew what they were planning!_ His eyes narrowed and his features hardened. In an instant he had moved beyond vexed and straight into furious. With crisp movements he turned on his heel and left the room without another word.

She'd gone too far, mocking him like that. "Damnit!" Andie hissed. She dropped her comb, snatched her towel and took off at a run, stretching out her legs to the limit to catch him, but even though she shoved her way past the women in the hall outside, she wasn't in time to do more than watch the double doors slide shut on the turbo-lift. She didn't wait for his return; just made a beeline for the nearest vertical access tube, yanked off the door and climbed like a monkey, unmindful of her bare feet or dripping hair. It was a race to the finish and she refused to come in last!

* * *

_Sickbay_

Dr. Andie cleared the doorway with her bare feet slapping the tiles to find Tucker holding a plasma torch and conversing with Reed at the entrance to the isolation room. Reed stood behind him and both wore stone faces. They each spared her a dark glare before Reed hissed in the Commander's ear, "Do it!"

"Step away from that door!" Andie growled.

Tucker ignited the torch and bent to his task while Reed crossed his arms intractably.

"I mean it, Tucker! Stop what you're doing or else!"

"Or else what, Doctor?" Malcolm challenged, placing his body between the angry woman and the engineer. "Are you going to lock us up as well?"

Her furious glower never wavered as her hand disappeared into the pocket of her lab coat hanging on its hook, and came back with a familiar piece of equipment that whined as the power cell charged up. Reed was offended that she continued to keep a weapon close, but not really surprised. She took it personally when she was attacked, and this was just proof that she had a lot to lose.

"Are you going to shoot me, Doctor?" he queried icily.

"Get away from the door," she hissed.

"You will go on report for this," he assured her. He watched her finger tense over the trigger and tried calculating the odds. Would she really shoot him? Her electro-mag pulse pistol was something he had never seen before and he wondered how the sting would compare to a regular phase pistol. Then he wondered if she'd ever told him that her weapon had a stun setting.

Behind him Tucker stopped welding. "Put the gun down, Andie," he warned her.

"Step back from that door," she repeated again. She didn't have to tell them it would be their last warning; they could see that in her eyes.

The door to Phlox's officer slid open. "What is the problem here?" Commander T'Pol sized up the situation in an instant.

"They are breaking into a room that has been sealed by the Chief Medical Officer," Andie informed her curtly.

"_Temporary. Acting. Chief_," Tucker corrected her belligerently.

T'Pol stopped beside the physician. She studied Tucker and Reed solemnly for a moment. "Put the gun down, Doctor." Her voice was quiet and not at all troubled.

Andie hesitated for a fraction of a second before she did something that Reed had never seen her do. She complied with the order without arguing, flicking the hammer loose and letting the whine die away before slipping it back into a holster hidden under her coat.

"Step away from the door, Commander." T'Pol was quiet but firm. She waited until Tucker begrudgingly complied. "You said this could not last forever," T'Pol reminded the physician in a low voice.

"Because they _cheated_!" the doctor hissed, planting her fists on her hips. She may be disarmed but she was still plenty angry.

"Nevertheless, it is time." The Vulcan shrugged. "Tell them."

Andie cocked an eye at the woman beside her. "Tell them _everything_?" she inquired archly.

T'Pol turned her head slowly to look at the doctor. "It is time they knew about the captain."

Tucker moved to stand beside Reed while watching both women communicate in that silent way that women had, and wondering how bad it was going to get.

The doctor dropped her hands to her sides and with that action her anger evaporated. One hand slipped into a pocket and removed a data card. She nodded at T'Pol, who moved to lock the doors of the medical ward, while the physician inserted the information into the main computer. A variety of images appeared on the main monitor; images that could only be obtained by a functioning imaging machine, Tucker noted, furious at the thought of wasted hours spent fixing something that didn't require fixing. She was a lot more technologically savvy than she pretended to be.

Ruthlessly Dr. Andie dropped the bomb without softening the blow. "The short answer is this: the spinal cord was severed beneath the eighth thoracic vertebra, leaving the captain unable to move his lower extremities."

"He's paralyzed?" Reed repeated dumbly. He hadn't just failed to protect the captain from injury; he'd actually performed actions that led the captain to permanent damage. He could feel the blood draining from his face.

"Is there some kind of surgery for that?" Tucker asked. It was even worse than he feared.

"There is some debris left inside the spinal canal," Andie answered dispassionately. "Due to its position and the harm it has done, there isn't a way to remove the debris without causing more damage. The bones in the spinal column are fractured and modern medicine has failed to find a suitable substance to repair them that won't cause further problems with mobility and durability. As it stands now, there are no standard procedures to repair his injuries."

"What did Starfleet Medical say about that?" Trip demanded. "They have specialists and alien doctors and other means that you could use."

She glanced at T'Pol who nodded. "If this information were to be transmitted to Starfleet Medical, the captain would be removed from his post immediately. It is doubtful he would ever heal sufficiently to reacquire it."

"You haven't informed Starfleet Medical?" Reed asked for clarification.

"The communications array is temporarily disabled," T'Pol filled in. "It was impossible to send word to Earth."

"Forget about his post!" Tucker burst out. "He needs medical attention! If you can't provide him with the best possible care, then he needs to be taken somewhere where he can get it!"

"If we were on Earth, it is likely that he would be referred to me anyway. I am the foremost expert in prosthetics and emergency medicine," Andie told him.

"You're trying to make a name for yourself?" Tucker expressed with outrage. "This isn't about fame and fortune! This is his life! He deserves the best that he can get, not to be stuck with the closest doctor with a chip to grind!"

"I did not intend to keep him from any necessary medical care. I only wanted to offer my best efforts at correcting the damage before his career was ruined." Andie's chin lifted in the air and she regarded the men without flinching, struggling to retain control of her temper.

"You kept this from us. How does that aid your best efforts?" Malcolm inquired.

"The fewer people who knew about his condition the easier it would be to ensure secrecy. The decision was made to parse out information on a need to know basis. You didn't need to know. It wasn't personal," she answered coolly.

"It's personal to me!" Tucker bellowed. He felt like the room was spinning. He'd looked up to Jonathan Archer for years, and the idea that he had been suffering from this predicament without anyone to lift his spirits was terrible to imagine. "I want to see him!"

"That's not a good idea," Andie refused gently. The captain had been informed of his condition just a few days ago and it hadn't been pleasant.

"It wasn't a question!" Tucker got right up under her nose. "I demand to see him right now, or I go straight to your boss and have you removed from this ship!" He wasn't referring to T'Pol but to the head of UESPA, the organization that had seen to her education and her placement on board. It was not an idle threat.

Rather than answer his angry remark, Andie just turned her head to look at T'Pol. The Vulcan seemed to consider the silent request for a long time before nodding in resignation. Andie moved carefully around him to press the sequence of buttons that would remove the lock from the isolation door.

Tucker seemed to realize the Commander was still in the room. "I can't believe you went along with this ridiculous idea! You're the first officer! You should have his best interests in mind, not be led around by _her_!" He whirled around without waiting for an answer and nearly ran smack into Andie.

The doctor stood directly in his path. "Do not agitate him further," she advised firmly. She might be shorter than he was, but she could knock him on his butt without breaking a sweat. Her resolute posture gave him a slight moment of pause; long enough to get his emotions under control and not go bursting in there like a bull in a china shop.

Nodding curtly because he didn't trust himself to speak to her, he ducked around and entered the captain's room.

T'Pol looked ill at ease. "We will speak further in the morning," she decided. "I'll be in the lab."

Andie eyed her evenly. "I'll see you for breakfast," she agreed stiffly. The Vulcan released the lock on the outer door and left. At this time of evening, there weren't many crewmen wandering about in need of medical attention, so their meeting had been unobserved. Now the doctor was alone with the tactical officer. Her shoulders stiffened slightly before turning back to face him.

Reed had realized recently that brute force just makes her plant her feet more intractably than before so if he wanted information he would have to approach her gently, in spite of the churning in his gut. "How could you keep this a secret? How could you expect to get away with it?" he burst out. Inside he ground his teeth at his inability to keep calm.

"I felt it was in his best interest," Andie answered without hesitation. "I thought he would prefer to have a complete medical diagnosis before making any decisions."

"I don't think you give a damn what he wants," Reed informed her. "I think you'd just load him up and ship him out in a cargo container if that's what _you_ thought was best; never mind what _he_ wanted!" He took a deep breath. "So why would you go to all this trouble, if you think the best care he could receive is not here on this ship? What would make you take on this responsibility?"

Her lips were clamped tightly shut and she didn't make a move.

"Commander T'Pol made the request," Reed guessed softly, thinking of the silent communication that was evident in every look they exchanged. "She made it an order and you complied with her wishes."

"I've never seen a Vulcan come to the defense of a human like that," Andie admitted with difficulty. "How could I refuse?"

"You let Commander Tucker believe that this was your doing," he pointed out.

"It doesn't matter who made the choice," Andie shrugged. "The outcome is the same."

Reed squinted, trying to fit the pieces together. "Trip's going to be very angry with you." Another detail presented itself. "He will be angry with you and not with T'Pol. You're trying to salvage their relationship."

"If Archer falls, she's in command. He'll become her second. It wouldn't do for him to resent her."

Malcolm's head was swirling. Trying to get a grip on his emotions, he turned back to the body scans still on the main monitor, forcing himself to look at the facts instead of running on empty hot air. "You performed more than one surgery."

"Two and a half," she answered, pouring a clean beaker full of dark, hot coffee, grateful for the excuse for her hands to be busy. She poured one for Malcolm too and added to it from another container behind his back. "I had just started the third last Thursday when you entered Sickbay, and it took a while to get rid of you. His medication wore off and I chose not to dope him up again so quickly."

"You could have told me!" Malcolm burst out desperately, taking the glass container she offered.

"I could have, but open communication is not really our style, is it?" She sipped her beverage.

Malcolm sipped too and the brief taste of whiskey added to the brew burned all the way down to his stomach. He wasn't in the mood to cite her for intoxication. "Was there damage to the internal organs?"

"Shards of the barrel were embedded in his body," Andie explained. Archer had been standing close to a wooden barrel full of explosive chemicals when it blew up. His injuries had been sustained when he threw his body on top of Sergeant Chang's in order to spare his crewman. "The MACO's weren't as careful as they could have been when they dragged him off the transporter pad and it drove the slivers in deep." The transport out had spared Archer and Chang from serious burns and ultimately saved their lives, but the ship had still been under attack by the space frogs and getting him into Sickbay hadn't been easy, as both Chang and Corporal Romero could attest. "Some of the slivers punctured his intestines and his kidney. I performed surgery to remove them. One surgery was completed on Renaisterre and the second was performed here in Sickbay."

"But his condition remains unchanged?"

Andie sipped quietly. "One sliver remains tangled in the nerve fibers. I can't take it out without severing the fibers, leaving him permanently paralyzed." Andie looked at the medical scans still on display. "I am not out of options yet. I may have access to medical knowledge that Starfleet may not," she offered hesitantly. "There's still a chance he could recover a certain amount of mobility."

"I'm not a doctor," Malcolm began. "But my uncle Archie wore a back brace to compensate for a spinal injury."

"Archer's problem is a little more complicated than a simple back brace can repair. In many cases the weight of synthetic spinal prostheses has compressed the natural vertebrae, if they haven't broken them outright, and the danger is compounded in this instance by the sliver of wood that cannot be removed." She sighed. "At the moment I'm stumped, but there are still some options I might pursue."

Reed drained his coffee with a heavy heart. "My father suffered an injury that would not allow him to serve on board ship. The Royal Navy is his life. For a time he was beside himself with grief and quite unpleasant." He forced his eyes to meet Andie's. "How is the captain's mental state?"

A sudden crash from the isolation ward made them both flinch. "Get out!" The captain's voice was strained. "Get out and leave me alone!"

Tucker came high-tailing it out of the small room, his face even paler than usual. Andie just shrugged at Malcolm. There didn't seem to be much more to say.


	2. Chapter 2

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 2

_

* * *

_

_Sickbay_

_Early the next morning_

Dr. Andie stepped back and checked the readings on her scanner. "How are you feeling today?"

The Vulcan shifted uncomfortably at the question. "I am having difficulty concentrating. I am restless. My hands tremble." Each sentence was forced out with effort. Admitting her weaknesses was not easy. Even in the seclusion of the Chief Medical Officer's office where her exam was currently being held.

"After I gave you that sedative yesterday, how did your symptoms fare?" Andie checked her readings and looked into T'Pol's eyes with a penlight.

"My perceptions were dulled, as though everything around me was distorted by wavefronts."

"You felt like you were underwater?" Andie clarified.

"I do not swim," T'Pol answered.

"Right," Andie grunted. Most Vulcans didn't. "Do you want me to adjust the dosage so that the distortion will be less noticeable?"

The thought was tempting. "No," she concluded. The general sense of discomfort she had felt during the stay on Renaisterre was drifting away and she was unwilling to tempt it back by lowering her medication. Meditation had become a priority and it seemed to be working. It was easier now to control her fits of temper and she was not drifting off into waking dreams of mauling engineers. The distortion was a small price to pay.

"I've been reading your file," Andie began gently, looking T'Pol in the eye. "You've had a tumultuous year. You experienced an addiction to Trellium-D, which broke down your neural pathways. You contracted Pa'nar Syndrome and were apparently cured of it a few months ago. On an emotional front, you left your service with the Vulcan embassy and joined _Enterprise_ as a freelance agent during the bitterest conflict that Starfleet has ever faced. And your mother died recently; I'm so sorry for your loss."

"That is incorrect," T'Pol objected. "I contracted Pa'nar Syndrome _three_ years ago."

Andie pressed her lips together at the Vulcan's insistence on precision. "You've been busy," she concluded. "Your body has undergone some radical adjustments and you've been under an extended period of stress. It's possible that these incidents have altered your body chemistry in ways you can't predict. Your mating cycle may somewhat different this time from all the others that have come before. You should be aware of any new symptoms that arise and keep me informed." Andie pressed a hypo-spray to her patient's neck.

"Are we finished?" T'Pol inquired. She hated these exams; they seemed so invasive, even with the technology that allowed her to be studied while fully dressed.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Andie agreed, making a notation in the computer.

"There is a matter about which I need to speak to you, but I must speak as your superior officer."

Taking three large steps backward, Andie planted her fanny indolently on the edge of the desk and tensed, preparing for the worst.

"It has been brought to my attention that you have been spending an extended amount of time in Sickbay."

Blond eyebrows raised in disbelief. "Yeah?" she drew the word out into a longer syllable. "And?"

"I would prefer, as I'm certain would other crewmen, that the physician be well-rested before engaging in her duties." T'Pol ignored the growing storm clouds in the doctor's eyes. "You do not sleep much. You read reports and medical texts all night. You talk to yourself. You jump every time the doors open."

"I've been busy," Andie stated clearly. She had been studying databases for Archer's cure and for T'Pol's while evading a very nosy Reed and keeping up with the regular medical duties.

"Until now it has been acceptable for you to sleep in this office. Your quarters were in disrepair and you needed to defend the captain's privacy. But Commander Tucker has informed me that your quarters are in good working order and I know the captain no longer needs to be guarded. I would like you to retire to your own bunk for a long period of rest."

"Did Commander Tucker put you up to this?" Andie burst out.

T'Pol looked confused. "I don't..."

"Never mind," Andie sighed, waving away the flare-up. She thought about the proposal. "I would like to accomplish one more thing before I retire," she bargained. T'Pol lifted her head to make eye contact. "I don't want to leave Archer here in Sickbay; it's not discreet. I would like to take the bio-sensors out of one of those beds and place them in Archer's bed. His temperament has been..."

"Cantankerous?" T'Pol supplied with a tired note in her voice.

"Fragile," Andie corrected. "I think his mental state might be helped by being in a familiar place. And Porthos would be very happy to get out of Sickbay, I think." She stood up straight and crossed her arms over her chest. "If Tucker isn't exhausted by his own work by now, perhaps he can help me?" Her eyes narrowed. "Before he takes his own nap, that is. I mean, he has been spending all of his waking hours at work in Engineering, so he's hardly in a position to point fingers at me for doing my job. I'd like him to take a nap too."

"I will pass along the request," T'Pol nodded.

"There should be a marine stationed outside the door to ensure the captain's privacy," Andie added. "I would like a monitoring system installed so that I can check on him through secure channels from any station on board this ship. I would like an emergency signal installed so that he might call for help at any time. I think I can rig up a wristband for that," she murmured, her eyes drifting away, lost in thought.

"That sounds reasonable," T'Pol agreed. She stood up. "I would appreciate your continued discretion regarding my own condition as well."

"As always," Andie agreed evenly. When the Vulcan was gone, she sighed. She was tired, but more than that, she was concerned. With the damage to the hull of the ship preventing them from achieving high warp factors, they were stranded far away from anyone who could help them even if they decided they needed it. Not to mention leaving themselves open to any pirate who happened along, she added silently.

It was going to be another long day.

* * *

_Tucker's Quarters  
Early the morning after that_

Trip Tucker's mind was blown. Andie Brainerd was keeping the captain locked up like one of Phlox's menagerie, and she hadn't seemed at all ashamed of her actions. She stood in Sickbay and defended her decision to keep him there as though it was of no consequence. And T'Pol hadn't offered any objections. Reed hadn't said much to him as they left Sickbay and Tucker wasn't certain he could form coherent thoughts anyway. He'd retired to his quarters, but sleep would not take him away from his gut-wrenching thoughts. He'd been patching up leaks and breaks on this ship for almost two weeks straight! It should be easy to find a way to patch up Archer; so much of his life was tangled up in the ship's innards.

Sleeplessness drove him out of bed early yesterday morning, and he went looking for the Vulcan to demand answers, but she hadn't seemed interested in offering any. If he didn't know better, he'd think that she was exhausted; sometimes he had to repeat questions to get her attention.

After demanding that Andie be forced into bed, he hadn't been surprised to find she had a counter-offer. They had worked all afternoon, turning the large bed in Archer's quarters into a bio-bed, complete with sensors and monitors and emergency protocols. Aside from offering suggestions about the work they were doing, Andie hadn't spoken to him at all, which was fine with Tucker. He had happy to keep his jaw clenched firmly shut and let her do whatever she was doing. It had been easy to remain sullen until they actually removed Archer from Sickbay and brought him to his bed.

The captain looked feeble. Archer never looked feeble. He'd taken a shot to the leg on Rigel X and was back on his feet as soon as Phlox patched up the wound. He'd taken a beating at the Vulcan sanctuary P'Jem, but he hadn't let that stop him from uncovering their secrets and saving the lives of the crew and the monks. They'd been caught up together in the sticky web of that organism that took over the Cargo Bay, and Archer had been the one to buoy the spirits of the others, including one chief engineer.

Once the transition was completed, Tucker had returned to bed and lay awake, looking at his ceiling and thinking about the captain. He never faltered and he never let events get him down. But the anger and the rage that Archer had directed at him, his oldest friend, had shaken Tucker down to the core of his being. He knew that the captain was human; it's just that he was always larger than life and seemed more like an invincible superhero than just a common earthling.

The captain couldn't move his legs at all.

The thought that Archer might never get back on his feet was something Tucker didn't even want to consider. He met Jon in the same year that Henry Archer died. He remembered as vividly as though it was a nightmare stories of Henry's last days; the inability to move, the pain-filled cries, the conflicted resolution when the man died that made Jon glad Henry was out of pain, but angry that he was gone, and too soon. Watching Henry die slowly in bed had been the worst kind of torture for Jon and Trip didn't want to see him go through it again, this time from the point of view of the guy on the bed.

The chirping of his alarm dragged him back to reality. He hit the button dragged his body up and into some clothes. There had to be something useful he could be doing.

* * *

_Captain's Quarters_

Archer lay still and counted the ceiling tiles. Again. He was grateful for the move to his own quarters, but he hated the process of being helpless. That damned woman had given him the bad news a couple of days ago. He could see that she could barely restrain her smirk. He knew she never liked him and his current predicament must please her endlessly. He was convinced she was probably telling everyone she ever met about his lack of ability, even if she said his medical matters were private, and he just kept waiting for Admiral Gardiner to call him up and pull him off his ship.

It wasn't really his ship anymore. He'd taken a quick walk away from his people and wound up injured to such an extent that he was going to be removed from them forever. T'Pol had visited him; she tried to make the best of his situation. He knew she meant well, but he didn't want to hear her suggestions that he might make a wonderful Admiral. Admirals sat at desks and made policies that nobody wants to follow. He didn't want to be an Admiral. He wanted to be the guy who caused things to happen.

But nothing was going to change now. He was going to be stuck in this position forever, just counting the tiles on the ceiling. It must be true; you never appreciate what you have until it's gone.

Tucker had been outraged on his behalf. His friend paced around his room, as though he couldn't understand how awful it would be for Archer to see him walking, while he railed against the injustice of this situation, and demanded to know what action Archer was going to take. Didn't Tucker realize? He wasn't going to make any more actions again. Not ever. He was just stuck here, counting ceiling tiles. He had sent Tucker away, not wanting his friend to watch his humiliation.

A shadow crossed over his face. Jon turned his head to look out the window. He couldn't see anything of course; you had to stand very close to the window to see through the thick and double-paned frames. There was something out there. He knew it. He just couldn't see it.

Perhaps Gardiner was already here.

They wouldn't be naming any more schools after him now, unless it was a school for the crippled. He closed his eyes and tried to will his big toe into moving. Nothing. No more scuba diving for Jonathan Archer. If he couldn't paddle his feet, he couldn't move through the water. No more mountain climbing for Jonathan Archer. And no more kissing beautiful captains on top of a breathtaking peak. No more boarding parties. No more chases through catacombs filled with Vulcan relics. No more comet walks. No more walks among pre-warp civilizations.

He could read about them. In a book. Written by somebody else about work they had done and things they had seen. No more wild games played in the sand with an alien man who looked up to Archer. No more posh hotels on pleasure worlds filled with duplicitous aliens with odd-looking pets.

The comm. on his wall chirped. It was about time. That shadow had passed by his window almost twenty minutes ago. Why had they waited so long to inform him? It's because he wasn't the captain anymore. He couldn't lead these people. He couldn't even lift his legs from under the blankets and slide out of bed to answer the chirping speaker on the wall. He wasn't good for anything.

Permanently paralyzed. The words just kept floating around in his head. At least you're still alive, Tucker had said. But what good was living if you couldn't enjoy life?

There was another chirp, this time from the personal communicator on his bedside table. Archer reached out a hand to grab it and knocked over his glass of water. The water soaked into an old book and the pages expanded in a fat wrinkle. He tried to sop up the water with a towel, but he couldn't reach the one that had been left; it was hanging over a chair out of reach. Growing more frustrated, he pushed his body up on his elbows while the communicator continued to chirp. Porthos was growling now. He didn't understand the game they were playing. He couldn't figure out why his human just lay in bed. He barked.

The door slid open. They didn't even ask him for permission to enter his room now. Sergeant Chang entered. His eyes immediately perused the captain and saw the helpless mess that had been his superior officer. His expression of disgust was obvious to Captai-..to Jonathan Archer. The marine didn't speak though. He picked up the communicator from the floor and handed it to Jon before grabbing the towel and mopping up the mess Jon had made in his feeble exertion.

He was just a fish out of water now, flopping on dry land and waiting to be gutted and served for dinner.

"What?" he barked into the device.

"We've just made contact with an alien ship, Captain." T'Pol's voice was low and dry, like it always was when she and her Vulcan friends were laughing at Earth's inability to get their ships off the ground. "Their ship is damaged and in need of repairs and the aliens are in need of medical attention. Request permission to dock and examine them?"

Archer flopped back on his pillows as Chang left the room. "Whatever you want, Commander. You're in charge now." He flipped the communicator closed and tossed the object onto his crowded table. The small exertions he'd made had caused a dull ache to throb in his lower back. Jon managed to time his ceiling tile count to coincide with the tempo of his pain.

* * *

_Andie's Quarters_

Perhaps it was the shadows that woke her; something was hovering outside her window. She reached over and flicked the comm button. "What's up?" she mumbled sleepily.

"Go back to sleep, Doc," came back Ensign Black's reply. She realized she had connected to Sickbay rather to the Bridge and cursed her foggy brain. "It's just another ship close by."

"Hostile?"

He recognized the question for what it was and took a moment to tease his boss. "Not so far, but then, they haven't met you yet!"

Andie grumbled obscenities as she disconnected the link, wondering if Reed's 'strictly business' attitude might be better, to avoid these lame jokes. Rolling over, she was asleep again before the cats had readjusted their positions.

Less than fifteen minutes later the comm chirped again.

Rolling over, she hit the button. "You're fired, Ian." Her grumbling was good-natured.

"This is Commander T'Pol," spoke the untroubled voice. T'Pol was growing accustomed to Doctor Brainerd's sleep-deprived ramblings and threats. "Your presence is required in Sickbay." The comm shut off.

Blinking owlishly, Andie swung her feet over the edge of her bunk. Sleep was nice but there was work to do. Throwing on a pair of dark green scrubs, she splashed some water on her face and swept her hair up in a ponytail. A small detour allowed her a moment or two to check on Archer's condition, but she didn't stay long. He wasn't chatty. Fifteen minutes later she swept through Sickbay's double doors, looking much more alert than she felt.

* * *

_Sickbay_

She had to pass a pair of marines outside her door to enter the crowded room. There were half a dozen unfamiliar males in the room, all of extraordinary height. They were humanoid, dressed in short green togas and had extremely impressive physiques. Crewman Cutler caught sight of her and signaled with a nod of her chin without losing place in her exam of the very large man seated in front of her. Andie followed the gesture with her eyes to find a fresh thermos of coffee sitting nearby. Her stomach growled; unfortunately it wouldn't be professional to ignore the wounded in favor of filling her stomach. Instead she took another quick look around to view the other large men that were currently taking up all the space in her lab. Automatically she moved to examine the worst of the visible injuries.

"How did you receive these burns?" she asked a man who was slightly shorter than the others. His arm looked like it had spent some time in a deep fat fryer.

"No, madam, you must not look to me!" The man refused nervously. "Please see to the players!"

"Thankfully I don't take orders from you," she replied easily. "I'm the doctor and I get to choose who to examine first." She tried again to reach for the badly burned arm but he scampered away and insisted she take a look at the male nearby.

He was tall and blond, like the other aliens in the room. If he was standing upright he would be over two meters tall, with sharply defined features and a raised mark on his forehead. He was wired with muscle and there didn't seem to be an ounce of fat showing under the green cloth that wrapped around his body, like the others. And also like the others, his injuries seemed negligible. Her scowl must have deepened because the male in front of her grinned. It was a white and shiny grin, the kind that ought to be in toothpaste commercials.

"The crew knows the importance of the Players," he purred in a deep rich voice that must contain a million calories. "He will not consent until you have looked to our needs."

"His injuries might kill him," Andie answered stone-faced. "Yours will not. Instruct him to submit."

That faint-inducing smile creased his tan features again. "I cannot. The fate of our world lies in my hands, not his."

Another sound from across the room caught her attention. Cutler's arm was clutched in the grip of the man before her. He was also smiling a million dollar smile and drawing the med-tech nearer, letting his other hand wander over Cutler's hip in a familiar fashion that the woman did not enjoy.

"Release her!" Andie barked. The man barely flicked a gaze in her direction, before returning to his unwanted actions. Andie left her patient and moved closer. "Remove your hand from my med-tech immediately!" she growled.

"All things serve the Players," the man told her with his shark's smile.

"Not in my room!" Andie barked. "Either you remove your hand from her or I will remove it myself!" She pulled open a drawer on her left and removed a dagger with its leather-wrapped hilt. With a flourish, she withdrew the thirty-six centimeter blade and brandished it in her hand as a warning.

"It is against the law to threaten a Player," the first man stood in the suddenly silent room from his position on the bio-bed. "The penalty is death."

"In this room, I am the law," she retorted. "The penalty for refusing my order here is the loss of a limb." She smiled coldly at Liz's attacker. "Don't worry. If you're lucky it'll be a clean cut and I can reattach your arm. I guess the only thing to ask yourself is whether you feel lucky?"

"Madam, you are jeopardizing the Games!" The first one protested.

"You are jeopardizing my crew!" she countered. The room remained silent so she stepped forward, lifting the blade above her head and preparing to bring it down on the strong arm.

"Release the woman, Amandrez."

Amandrez didn't seem pleased with the edict. His grip tightened on Cutler. "She will not be successful and if she is, she is surrounded by Oramans. She will not survive."

"Release the woman, Amandrez," the leader spoke again. "It is a poor gratitude you offer to our hosts to attack their women when they feel so strongly against it."

"Areyu?" Amandrez protested.

"Do not defy me, Amandrez."

Amandrez released Cutler's arm and shoved the woman away from him as though she carried a plague. "She is not enough for the trouble."

"Cutler, come," Andie ordered. Although she lowered her weapon, she did not release it. Cutler scuttled behind the doctor, rubbing her arm. "On this ship you will acquire permission from any crewman before you lay hands on them. Is that clear?"

"You are not in command of this entire vessel," Areyu pointed out with a good-natured grin. "You cannot make such guidelines."

"I told you. I am the law in this room. You will agree to my condition or I will refuse to treat your wounds. You are players, yes? There is a game? Without treatment you will lose before you start!" One hand pressed Liz backward as Andie backed toward the doors. "How long do you think you'll last?"

Areyu looked at Andie with great consideration. "You play well," he smirked. Raising his voice to be heard around the room, he instructed the others. "You heard the female. You will not lay hands on her crew without their permission. So shall it be." He waited for the confirming chorus before spreading his arms wide and flashing that smile. "So we are agreed. You will treat us now?"

Wrinkling her nose as though she hadn't a care in the world, Andie slipped the dagger back into its sheath and tossed it back in its drawer. "We're agreed. Cutler, would you be a dear and go get me a cup of coffee from the Mess Hall?"

Behind her, Liz was shaking with nerves. "But there's..." she started to point to the thermos.

"I'd like a doughnut too," Andie added firmly. "Take your time."

Liz took a deep breath. "As you wish, Doctor," she complied. She took a step back to the double doors and fled; grateful for the few moments to gather her strength together. The entire incident hadn't taken long and the marines outside had been unaware of the fracas.

With another dark look at the one called Amandrez, Andie moved forward to resume her exam of the one called Areyu, after giving Ensign Black a reassuring nod to continue.

"I am Player Areyu," the taller man introduced himself. "Player Amandrez has been long without the company of women. Perhaps you would prefer to work on him directly, madam," he suggested. "When Amandrez is finished he will return to our vessel."

"My name is Doctor, not madam," Andie acknowledged frostily. She moved back toward Amandrez who growled at her and showed her his teeth. It didn't frighten her. "Don't tempt me to have you chemically neutered," she informed him curtly before scanning him.

Behind her Areyu laughed.

The exams continued in silence until Lieutenant Reed strode briskly into the room. "Is everything all right, Doctor?" he inquired politely.

Andie knew him well enough know to know that underneath that polite veneer he was seething. He was like the Vulcan's in that way. The marines outside must have interrogated Cutler and sent for the lieutenant. "Everything's fine," she replied easily. She finished with the bandage and tried to administer a hypo-spray to Amandrez's neck. He jerked his head back and growled at her. She smiled coldly at him and jabbed the device into his neck. "Just some cultural differences," she went on. "Nothing to worry about."

Reed scanned the room, noting the position of every one of the tall, muscular men. "Crewman Cutler was detained. Do you require another pair of hands?"

"I've got plenty of hands," Andie remarked pleasantly. "But Amandrez might require an escort back to his ship."

Blue eyes narrowed as Reed understood. She'd never admit to needing help, but she definitely wanted this guy gone. "It would be my pleasure, Mr. Amandrez," he remarked, extending an arm to indicate the way out. The angry man glanced at Areyu for permission before sliding off the bio-bed and stalking in the direction indicated.

The lieutenant may have played along with her preference not to include anyone else in the first aid mission, but Andie noticed that one of the MACO's changed position after they left; one of them entered the room and stood unobtrusively inside the door. She didn't say word about it, just moved on to check out the man with the burned hands. When he protested, she glared at Areyu until he commanded to man to submit to an exam. She finished the work without further incidents.

* * *

_Oraman Vessel_

_Engine Room_

Thankful to have work that would occupy his mind, Tucker finally rolled out from under the engine block and wiped his grimy hands on a rag. "I don't know what the hell you boys have been doin' to this thing, but you're lucky to have gotten this far. Not without a major explosion anyway," he added.

Commander T'Pol looked around the dirty room in distaste. "How much time do you require to finish the repairs?"

Beside her the Oraman engineer twisted his bandaged hands around with as much worry as he could manage. The senior officers weren't certain how much information he was absorbing; he just kept repeating over and over again that this couldn't be happening. "This is terrible! This is awful! It must be working! You must make it work!"

"I'm not sure I could," Trip told the commander, "but I'd need at least a week just to familiarize myself with the machine."

"This cannot take a week!" the engineer stated adamantly. "The Games are scheduled to begin in a matter of days. The Oramans must check in and be admitted. They cannot be late!"

"The only thing this scrap heap is good for right now is making noise and blowing smoke," Trip told him.

The engineer finally stilled as though something of the words got through. "If it is as you say, then I have lost." He chuckled slightly, although it was a desperate sound devoid of humor. "Thank you for your assistance," he nodded at Trip.

"No problem," Tucker acknowledged, getting up from the dirty ground. "It's something that might'a happened...Hey! What are you doing?"

The engineer was pointing a plasma torch as his head and preparing to ignite it.

T'Pol swatted the machine away, and Tucker shook the engineer. "Are you crazy?" he bellowed.

The Vulcan ran a hand scanner over the male, but shook her head in response to Trip's silent inquiry. He was not physically harmed.

"I have failed to bring Team Orama home again," the engineer sobbed. "I cannot go on living! Please let me end my failure here!"

"If it's so important for you to get to these Games, maybe..." he looked desperately at T'Pol, "Maybe we could give you a ride?"

The engineer looked relieved. "You can get us there before the start of the Games?" he inquired desperately.

"How far is this planet you are seeking?" T'Pol inquired.

"It is but a few light years away!"

"At warp two that's almost a month away," Trip whispered in T'Pol's direction.

"You must go faster!" the engineer cried out, returning to the nervous fidgeting with his hands. "We must be there in a just a few days!"

"Look, pal, in the condition our ship's in, it'll take a while," Tucker informed him.

"If we could increase our speed, we could reach the destination in time," T'Pol pointed out.

"You were the one who said you didn't want to risk warp without the hull intact," Tucker pointed out. They had suffered a large hole to the aft hull plating that was currently being held in place by an extremely experimental substance.

"If their ship cannot be restored to full power, perhaps we might procure the necessary repair parts from their hull," T'Pol pointed out. "If our hull was intact we might travel at a higher rate of speed," she added needlessly.

"You would take our ship from us?" The engineer asked in confusion. "We cannot leave it behind. It contains our training material."

"We might be able to tow it behind," Tucker suggested dubiously, rubbing his stubble-riddled chin with one hand.

To his surprise the engineer who had been about to commit suicide just moments ago did not latch on to the suggestion with much enthusiasm. "I must seek the counsel of the Player."

Trip's eyebrows rose all the way to his hairline. "Okay, well, let us know you decide." He picked up his tool kit and followed T'Pol back to the airlock that led back to _Enterprise's_ familiar and sanitary halls.

"That was weird," he stated when they were safely back aboard the Starfleet vessel.

"It is difficult to make judgments about their lives when we know so little about them," T'Pol countered distantly.

"But to kill yourself over a game?" Tucker probed. "That's just crazy."

T'Pol stopped walking and looked at him. "What are reasons that you would consider worthy for ending your life?"

"Home, family, country," Trip offered after he took a moment to think about it.

"Clearly that engineer thinks this game is as important as those," she pointed out, moving down the corridor again.

"No brass trophy is worth all that fuss," Trip muttered, following after.

* * *

_Sickbay_

_Late afternoon_

Areyu was the last to be treated, making him the last person in the medical ward except for the doctor. She nodded at Ensign Black to excuse him as she brought forth a container of pink salve and offered it to Areyu.

"What should I do with that?" he inquired curiously.

"Rub it into your shoulder," she told him irritably.

"I cannot perform such actions myself. Would you assist?" He didn't seem deterred by her scowl.

Snapping on a pair of gloves, she dipped a finger in the goo and prepared to apply it under his tunic. Areyu was very obliging; he unfastened the clasp that held his toga in place and let the green fabric drop to his lap, where the thin material slid to the floor. He sat before her without any clothes on and watched her reaction with interest. Andie merely kicked the fabric out of her way and spread the salve in a thick layer over his shoulder. The gel warmed with his skin and soon it heated into a bone deep fire that burned into the muscle in his shoulder. He hissed slightly, and her lips twitched, offering her first amusement all day.

"All your players are suffering from strained muscles and tendons and a few even have minor breaks. If you intend to compete in a professional tournament soon, I must suggest that you forego any training sessions for a few days, to give your bodies a chance to heal." She frowned and placed a gloved finger on the puckered flesh on his bare chest. "This looks old."

"It is the symbol of my status as a player," Areyu explained. "I bear the marks of all seven Provinces in the eternal circle of life." He pointed to one in particular, the same mark that was welted into the skin of his forehead. "This is the symbol for the Orama Province."

"You are Oraman," she stated again for clarity.

"Under the national flag of the Ulnythian State," he stated with pride.

"And your state thinks it's a good idea to brand you like cattle?" she queried brusquely.

"I do not know the word 'cattle'," he admitted.

"Livestock," she clarified. "Does it hurt?" She pressed her finger into the keloid tissue.

"It does not hurt," he told her. He looked at her with some confusion. Her darting gaze offered him another topic of conversation. "Is that some magic elixir?"

Andie arched an eyebrow at him curiously.

"That silver flask is something that repeatedly draws your eye," Areyu noted. "Is it special?"

"It's a magic juice that keeps my temper in check," she retorted sharply.

"Would you care to partake of it?" he offered. "I will rest here with my injury while you sip your magic elixir."

She stared into his dark green eyes for a long moment, contemplating his suggestion with all the seriousness that might imply she thought it was a kind of trap. "Thank you," she finally agreed. "I think I will." It didn't take long to cross the room and pour a small cup of the steaming brew, draining the glass with one gulp. "Would you care for some?" she offered after pouring herself a second helping.

Areyu looked at the woman in the dark green scrubs. "Thank you," he repeated her words. "I think I will."

The doctor offered a small taste to the man. He filled his mouth and stopped. Wincing he managed to force the liquid down his throat without gagging.

"It's not a drink for the faint of heart," she smirked.

Clearing his throat to get rid of the burning sensation, Areyu nodded. "As you say," he agreed.

The double doors swung open and both humanoids looked up to see the pair of senior officers in the entrance. T'Pol and Tucker froze in place as they took in the sight of the pair sipping beverages while one was still nude. He didn't seem at all concerned with his state of undress either. For that matter, neither did the doctor.

"Commander Tucker has finished his assessment of your vessel," Commander T'Pol recovered her surprise first.

"How is it?" Areyu asked, handing the cup back to the doctor.

"It's hopeless," Trip answered, studying the floor and the ceiling in turns.

Andie figured out the source of his distress. She turned to Areyu with a slight smile. "You can get dressed now. Your shoulder will be fine."

He stood and fixed his toga back over his shoulder.

"Your engineer explained that it is imperative for you to return to your homeworld in a matter of days," T'Pol interjected.

"Right before he tried to kill himself," Tucker added bitterly. He offered a significant glance to the doctor when she gasped.

T'Pol went on as though he hadn't interrupted. "It would take longer than that to repair your ship. We would like to offer you transport on our vessel, but we have also suffered some damage. If you agree, we would like to use panels from your ship to repair our hull. Then we might transport you home in time for your game."

"It is important that we retain our vessel," Areyu noted. When he stood up, Tucker had to tilt his neck to look him in the eye.

"We can tow your ship," Tucker agreed. "It'll take us longer to travel though."

"We must arrive at the Ulnythian homeworld in four days' time," Areyu stated simply.

"It should take us about twelve hours to reconfigure your hull plating for our use, plus a few more on either side to retrieve the material and apply it to our hull," Tucker offered stiffly.

"If you could bring us to our homeworld in time, we would be in your debt, Commander," Areyu smiled his toothpaste commercial smile.

So appealing was the physical specimen that Tucker almost grinned and blushed in response. He cleared his throat to gather his wits, then offered to the room at large that he ought to get back to work. T'Pol was staring at Areyu in a way that made Tucker bump against her slightly when he exited. The Vulcan shook her head and nodded at Andie before turning to follow him out the door.

"May I come see you again if my wound does not heal?" Areyu asked, looking at the doctor with warm intensity.

"Your wound will be fine," she told him firmly. She was astonished that he hadn't asked about his crewman who had attempted suicide. _Although 'attempted' obviously meant 'not completed' which should tell a person what they needed to know, but why didn't he even ask?_

A smile leaped to his face. "Which healing agent should I ask for," his deep green eyes danced, "if I should suffer?"

"Any of the medical staff will be able to treat you," she offered airily.

He seemed nonplussed at her non-interest. "I can only count the hours until we chance to meet again. Perhaps I should injure myself during our next training session."

"I thought I advised you to forego your training sessions? I wouldn't recommend going against the doctor's orders," Andie rebuked him softly. "She hates that." Turning on her heel, she moved to pour another cup of the magical elixir. Areyu watched her with barely suppressed frustration before moving out of the door. He had to duck his head to get through the doors.

* * *

_Observation Lounge_

Andie found Cutler in the Observation Lounge, staring out one of the large windows. "Are you injured?" the doctor inquired perfunctorily. She wasn't quite certain what to say to someone who had been assaulted in their place of work. She'd been attacked when she was small, but the only thing that anyone had said to her was to instruct her on how to throw a knife. She didn't think Reed or Archer would appreciate her teaching that to the crew.

"I felt so unprepared," Liz admitted. "It wasn't just the hands; it was the whole scenario." She blew her nose and sighed.

"He won't be touching you again," Andie promised her.

"If I knew more about medicine I might have been more effective. If I'd had a nursing degree, I might have been better prepared."

Andie pondered that statement. "I thought your specialty was bugs?"

Liz almost smiled. "I'm an entomologist. I think that's why Phlox kept me around Sickbay; to look after his menagerie. But Ian and I have been getting into scuffles over the treatment of patients and...maybe I was thinking...I wanted to be something more."

"If you're interested in pursuing a nursing degree, I'd be happy to help you," Andie offered. Liz looked up in surprise, as though she hadn't considered starting now. "I can offer you texts to get you started, and prepare some practice entrance exams. If you think it's something you want, you can make arrangements with Starfleet Medical to put off your service while you study, or maybe study abroad or something."

The cornflower blue eyes glistened at Andie. "I don't...know."

"It couldn't hurt to look into your options." They shared a brief smile. "You want me to plant a foot up Ian's behind for being a jackass? Cause I'd be happy to!"

Liz actually giggled.

* * *

_Conference Room_

The senior officers had gathered together to review the incident reports and offer intelligence on the species they had brought on board. Andie scuttled in late and slid into her chair with an apologetic look at the commanders, although secretly she was hoping she missed the part where they wanted to court-martial her.

Tucker was finishing his announcement of the Oramans gift to _Enterprise_ of several sheets of duranium with which to fix the final holes in the hull, in exchange for a lift to their homeworld. "We should get them there in time for the opening ceremonies to the games," he finished.

"What are these games, exactly?" Dr. Andie wondered from the farthest seat at the table.

"There are seven provinces on the Ulnythian world," Hoshi broke in when it seemed that T'Pol was not going to respond. "Their world was in chaos and torn apart by a series of wars. When the ruling senate finally brokered peace, arguments broke out as to who would rule the Senate. The Games were established to spare bloodshed. Every seven years the Games are held, and the winning Province names the leader of the Senate."

"Are we certain we want to bring these people on board?" Lieutenant Reed objected. "They have already assaulted a member of our crew! They pose a significant threat!"

T'Pol spoke up. "Player Areyu had promised to keep his people under control while they are on board. There should be no further incidents."

"I'd like to assign a security officer to follow them around," Reed insisted.

"They're doin' us a favor," Trip objected. "We can't keep 'em under guard."

"How is Crewman Cutler?" T'Pol inquired of the doctor.

"She's fine," Andie answered. "She was taken by surprise but she'll be able to carry on."

"We could use their help," Tucker announced to the table at large.

There was a long moment of silence. Everyone at that table was waiting for Captain Archer to hand down a directive, but he was not in attendance. Commander T'Pol had announced for the benefit of the Ensigns who were unaware of the captain's condition that he was still recuperating from his injuries, but did not embellish any further.

"It is settled," T'Pol made the final verdict. "We will accept their help and in return, we will do our utmost to return them to their homeworld. Ensign Sato, please make arrangements for guest quarters. Commander Tucker, please provide a list of crewmen to assist you. Lieutenant Reed you may upgrade security measures, but our guests will not be provided with personal guardians." She looked down at the pad in front of her as though looking for a cue card. "We have been invited to witness the Games, if we are able to arrive in time," T'Pol announced.

"I say we do it," Trip jumped in. "The crew could probably stand a little fresh air."

"The crew just spent seven days camping out of doors," T'Pol pointed out.

"They were fighting for their lives," Trip pointed out. "I meant they could do with a little R and R."

"The Players are very fit," Mayweather jumped in. "I bet their games are very exciting to watch!"

"They must be," Andie broke in irritably. "By the time I had finished with them in Sickbay but they had engaged in more training drills and two of them wound up back on my table!"

"When will we be ready to set out?" T'Pol interrupted and brought the meeting back to a semblance of order.

"We could be ready to go tomorrow." Tucker threw down his data pad. "I'm a little concerned about the stress on the grapplers. We'll have to start slowly and work our way up to warp four."

"Make the arrangements, Commander. Dismissed." T'Pol didn't rise although the others did. "Dr. Andie, Commander Tucker, please remain."

The others filed out.

"The player Areyu has made an unusual request. I thought I should pass it along." She drew a deep breath. "He has made it clear to me that assistance from Orama would be more generous if Dr. Andie were to spend more time in his company."

Andie's jaw dropped. "He _what_?" She looked flummoxed.

Tucker snorted. "You've got an admirer!" Catching sight of T'Pol's unsmiling face, he sobered quickly. "You told him it was out of the question, right? He tried to manhandle one of our women already! We're not going to let him get anywhere near another one!"

Two women frowned at him, causing Trip to swallow his tongue.

"Areyu didn't attack Liz; that was Amandrez," Andie clarified. "And we are not 'your' women! Don't stamp our butts with your brand like we're members of your herd!" She didn't sound pleased by his defense.

"I just meant..."

"I can guess what you meant," Andie shut him down.

They glared at one another for a long moment before Trip's eyes flickered to the Vulcan who sat idly by. "What did you tell him?"

"I told him that we do not prostitute our women," T'Pol informed him. "I cannot command the affections of the doctor."

"There! That's settled," Andie threw up her hands. "All that fuss for nothing!"

"I thought you should know," T'Pol looked at Andie.

"I'll consider myself knowledgeable," she sniffed. She grabbed her emergency kit and slung it over her shoulder with practiced ease, before stalking out the door with a withering look at the engineer.

Trip scurried after her. "I'm just looking out for you! He can't just make demands on you like this!"

"Oh, you're speaking to me now?" Andie stopped and glared at him. "I thought you were still giving me the silent treatment. I didn't realize we were back on good terms."

He looked abashed. "We're not," he refuted in a tone that suggested otherwise. "But that doesn't mean that I'm not going to look out for you."

"I guess you ought to make up your mind whether we're friends or foes before you go butting your nose in," she sassed him.

"Why didn't you say something to me about the captain's condition?"

"It was none of your business," she informed him curtly.

"The captain is my business!" Trip barked. "Not only is he my commanding officer; he's also my friend! He is my business!"

"His medical file is not," she retorted.

Air was forced out of his nostrils in frustration. "You and your secrets," he seethed. The turbo-lift doors opened and he stepped inside.

Tucker's lack of trust stung. She liked the engineer and his rebuff hurt. "I forgot something back there. I'll catch the next lift." She stepped back and let the door close in front of his surprised face before returning to the Conference Room.

T'Pol was still seated at the head of the table.

"What did you tell Areyu _exactly_?" Andie inquired, stopping directly in front of the Vulcan because she had not actually left anything behind.

"I told him that I could not command your affections. If he wants to spend time with you, he must rely on his own charm. I also assured him that you were perfectly within your rights to deny him the opportunity." The Vulcan looked her right in the eye when she recited that information.

"Good to know," Andie nodded. She turned toward the door but stopped almost immediately. "Tucker was quite outraged at the suggestion of impropriety. Do you think you might have made a different decision last week?"

"You want to know if I am affected by my illness." T'Pol considered the question. "I do not know."

Andie thought long and hard about that before exiting the dim room, leaving the Vulcan to her own pensive contemplation.


	3. Chapter 3

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 3

* * *

_Sickbay_

_Next morning_

Dr. Andie had just finished the morning rounds of allergy shots and had dismissed Ensign Ian Black once the room was put back to order. Now she was studying the captain's scans on the overhead monitor and frowning. The frown deepened when out of the corner of her eye she saw the door open and Player Areyu enter, wearing his customary green toga and advertising smile. "Did you hurt your shoulder again?" she demanded with a curved eyebrow.

Areyu's smile broadened. "I have brought a gift to share with you," he announced. He produced an emerald green decanter and an elaborately jeweled goblet from behind his back. He poured a serving of the sea green liquid into the goblet and offered it to her. "You have been so kind I thought it would be appropriate to share one of our greatest treasures with you."

"How thoughtful," she remarked evenly. "Unfortunately I cannot partake of spirits while I am on duty.

"When is your duty finished?" he inquired.

"When Phlox returns," she answered coyly.

"Who is Phlox?"

"He is the physician in charge of this vessel. I'm filling in while he's away," she answered.

The response made Areyu thoughtful. "You are not in charge here?"

She noticed his curiosity and backtracked carefully. "I am in charge until he returns."

"When will that be?"

"It will be more than four days."

"You expressed interest in my totems." He reached for his clasp. "Would you like to see them again?"

"Keep your clothes on, Hoss."

"I do not understand. I thought your superior officer relayed my intention to spend more time with you." Areyu looked troubled.

"She told you that she cannot command my attentions. You have to earn those."

"How can I do that?"

"Haven't you ever tried to court a woman before?" she seemed amused.

"I have never had this much trouble getting women to notice me. Many women are pleased to accompany a Player and I am a Champion." He looked deep into her eyes. "What can I do to make you take interest?"

Andie pretended to ponder. "Your player assaulted a member of my crew," she pointed out.

"He will not do it again."

"You didn't stop it."

"I did!"

"_Eventually_, but you had to be told to respect other people at the point of a knife. That doesn't inspire confidence." She shook her head in dismay.

Areyu changed the subject. "It was an interesting knife. Where did you get it?"

"I know a guy."

"You know a guy?"

"He was a king. The sword was a gift."

That seemed to impress him somewhat. "You have powerful friends."

"That surprises you?"

"Most women that I know are happy to serve the rich and powerful, especially the players. You seem to have no desire to follow suit."

Andie made sure to enunciate clearly. "I serve no man."

"Except your captain," the alien pointed out. "I have not seen him."

"He's busy. When you're interesting, he'll make his presence known."

"I must curry favor with your captain as well?" His green eyes gleamed.

"Oh no," she refuted. "Just me. I'll let him know when you're interesting." Her eyes twinkled even if her mouth didn't smile.

"How am I doing?" He moved closer to her and reached out a hand intending to caress her cheek.

She stepped out of his reach and smiled politely. "I need more coffee. Would you like to escort me to the Mess Hall?"

* * *

_Mess Hall_

_Breakfast_

"This isn't right! They can't be trusted! We don't know anything about them!" Malcolm Reed was beside himself with the new security concerns. Aliens were running amok on this ship and a large number of personnel were traipsing around on the alien vessel. With the captain out of commission, he hated to think of something going wrong.

"Relax," Travis chided over breakfast in the Mess Hall. "They seem all right. They offered to help us with our engines. They're giving us a tow to Ulnythia and we'll be able to watch a few of their games." He shrugged indifferently.

"Beware of strangers bearing gifts!" Malcolm cautioned. "Perhaps they're just setting us up for the kill. For all we know these games might involve gladiator games where the crew is picked off one by one!"

Since it was not unusual for the tactical officer to see everyone they met as a threat, the helmsman didn't offer as much support as he might have if someone else had made such accusations. Instead Travis chuckled at the thought. Movie night had offered a gladiator film a few days ago and some of those games looked like fun. "Do you think they might let me play? Just for a little while?" His brown eyes gleamed at the thought. He showed great enthusiasm for attempting new and different physical activities; it probably came from being raised cooped up on a freighter.

Unable to persuade his companions about the danger, Malcolm sighed and allowed some of his agitation to drift away. He even managed a little joke of his own; Mayweather may be eager to perform physical tasks, but his clumsiness was legendary. "Perish the thought! I don't think Andie has enough time on her hands to take care _your_ injuries from practices with a _professional_ sports team."

Travis grinned good-naturedly. Pushing back his chair, he picked up his plate for return to the chow line. "It couldn't hurt to ask, though, could it?"

"Go right ahead," Malcolm waved him away.

Tucker had remained mostly silent during the meal but he spoke up now, looking directly at Reed. "Are you sure you're not just upset at the amount of time they're spending in Sickbay?"

Malcolm glared at Trip. "They're using up our resources. Don't they have their own medical wing?" Malcolm hated the sharp tone he used. They were just making new friends in the stellar community. He started to pick up his own plate. He had better things to do in the armory, especially if the Ulnythians were as unfriendly as he believed them to be.

At that moment, the door swished open to admit a petite woman and her nearly constant companion in green. Andie led Areyu through the crowds and helped herself to a cup of coffee. His hand rested on the small of her back when she reached for a mug.

Malcolm looked down to find he'd bent his fork nearly in half with his bare hand. Uncomfortably he glanced up to find Trip looking at him pointedly. "I've been working out," he covered weakly. He was glad Tucker didn't respond to that.

"Mind if we join you?"

He looked up to find the same pair he'd been watching looking at the empty seats at their table. Before he could object, Tucker waved them in agreeably. "Go ahead. It looks like Travis got distracted by Rostov." He gestured at the helmsman who was now seated with the engineer across the room. The Commander eyed Andie's plate with awe. "You've got a healthy appetite."

"I missed dinner," she admitted, digging in with gusto. "And my mealtime was delayed," she growled with a side look at her companion.

"Your magic elixir does not appear to function well," Areyu noted as she gulped her coffee and hacked off a bite of egg with her fork.

"Elixir?" Malcolm repeated in confusion.

"Andie needs a magic elixir to keep her sane," Areyu prompted helpfully, indicating the steaming mug at the doctor's fingertips.

Trip choked on his hash browns, which he then spilled on his lap trying to avoid the sharp kick planted in his direction under the table. He couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking.

Annoyed, Andie paused with her fork halfway to her mouth as the alien looked on intently. "Help yourself," she gestured over her shoulder. "It's all delicious."

The tall male looked baffled.

"Is there a problem?" Trip inquired.

"It is customary for a Player to have all his needs met." He looked confused at the line of people queuing for food.

"Are you saying you don't know how to get your own meal? Honey, you're going to starve," the doctor assured him.

"Perhaps you would..."

"I'm not serving you, pal," Andie assured him. "I serve no man, remember?"

Malcolm was suddenly busy studying his lap. The bones in his jaw worked hard to contain the snort that threatened to break loose.

Trip sighed as he pushed his chair back. "Come on, I'll help you," he offered, removing his empty plate. The two blonds moved to the back of the room.

Dr. Andie looked at Malcolm. "I saw Amandrez in the corridors near Engineering." She took a bite of her waffle. "I saw Woods there too." The young MACO had been trying to look very casual and failing miserably.

"I can't imagine what he was doing there," Reed remarked carefully. "I don't believe he's on duty this morning."

"He just happens to be following Amandrez around?" She couldn't help the smile.

"It would seem so."

"Good man," she remarked with relief in her voice. "It saves me the trouble of carrying a weapon. Speaking of which, are you going to bring me up on charges for brandishing a weapon at you and Tucker? The suspense is killing me."

"I don't approve of you keeping unregistered weapons on board ship, especially in locations that should be kept safe."

She looked at him carefully. "You're not going to do it are you? You may not like my arsenal but it serves a purpose, especially with the newcomers on board."

"If you point a weapon at me again I may rethink that particular choice, Doctor."

"If I'm forced to point a weapon at you again, I plan to use it, sugar," she mimicked his scathing tone with an endearment instead of a title. "You won't get another warning."

Reed turned his head to the doctor and she smiled at him with chilly intent.

Behind them Trip was leading their guest through the buffet and describing all the items offered.

"I am not charming the doctor," Areyu broke in. He still looked perplexed.

"Not in the least," Trip assured him easily. He sobered up when he realized the alien wasn't kidding. "She's independent. She likes men who respect her strength and are courteous to others." It had been a while since he'd used it, but Trip thought he might have pulled off that intense stare intended to make boys think twice about messing with his sister as though he'd just worn it yesterday.

"Like the tactical officer," Areyu frowned at Lieutenant Reed who remained with the doctor. The dark-haired man spoke quietly with Andie, who answered with a smile that was suspicious in its innocence.

"The tactical officer knows when to keep his hands to himself," Trip noted for Areyu's benefit. He was getting uncomfortable with this line of questioning, so he piled the plate high with several different kinds of foodstuffs and added a glass of orange juice and nodded at Areyu that it was time to return to their table.

No sooner had Areyu sat down with his meal than Andie put down her fork. "I've got rounds to make," she announced. "Trip will take care of you," she informed Areyu when he looked flustered at her departure. "I'm sure he has questions about your vessel." She slung her satchel over her shoulder and nodded at someone across the room as she left.

"I've got something to finish before I return to work, too," Malcolm announced a moment later. He dabbed his mouth with his napkin, folded it precisely into a neat square and murmured apologies to his table mates.

Areyu rose with him, leaving behind the untouched plate that Tucker had filled. "I will walk with you," the alien announced. "You will show me the way back to your medical ward."

The polite smile froze on Malcolm's face. "I would be happy to escort you, Mr. Areyu. Are you feeling ill?"

"I am well," Areyu noted as they exited the cafeteria and made their way to the turbo-lift.

"What is your purpose in Sickbay?" Reed inquired. _As if he didn't know!_

"I wish to get to know your doctor better," Areyu announced. "She seems to enjoy your company. Perhaps you have some insight that I might gain. What actions should I take to encourage her notice?"

_Helping the doctor get dates was not in his job description_, Malcolm thought with a sigh. If this had been anyone else he might have offered polite prevarications that he was not a good matchmaker and left them to their own devices, but he didn't like the tall, muscled men loitering around the ship. "She likes men who keep their distance," he suggested helpfully. "She enjoys being the one to make the advances."

"What does a human female do to make advances on social partners?" Areyu inquired seriously.

Malcolm cleared his throat and tried to think of something. "The advances are not to be mistaken. You'll know it when you see it." As he pondered that, he considered the idea that anything the alien man did not understand might be construed as an advance. "She will put her finger up your nose," he chose, hoping that the doctor didn't make a habit of procuring nasal samples. "Any time that you can get her to smell you is good; it reminds her that you're male. Try to get near her after you've just endured a difficult training session."

_He was going straight to hell._

There wasn't time to ponder this statement any further. A commotion further up the corridor caught their attention and both men quickened their steps.

* * *

_Corridor_

Amandrez was once more on board _Enterprise, _and had cornered a petite redhead against the bulkhead with his massive thigh and was nuzzling her ear, laughing at her attempts to push him away. In the end it was heavy boot to the back of his knees that caused him to draw back far enough for Crewman McGill to wriggle free.

"I warned you," Andie seethed, preparing to kick him again. "We had a deal!"

"I didn't lay a hand on her, as promised," Amandrez sneered.

"He just pushed me..." McGill tried to explain.

"So it's going to be like that, is it? You'll conform to the letter of the law?" Andie asked, cocking her head to one side. "Then let me respond in kind." She stepped forward, right under his smirking nose, and planted a steel-toed boot in his groin.

In spite of his size he went down like a ton of bricks. "I'll kill you!" he heaved breathlessly.

When he lunged at her, she skipped out of his grasp. "You can't! I didn't use my hands!" Andie taunted as McGill scampered away.

Andie wasn't surprised when Lieutenant Reed arrived. He always seemed to know when she was in trouble. Unfortunately he wasn't alone.

"Amandrez!" Areyu knelt down to see to his man.

"You assaulted our guests!" Reed accused the doctor with false irritation.

"He assaulted us first!" Andie pointed her finger. She looked around for Crewman McGill to collaborate her story, but the petite redhead was nowhere to be found.

"You are not supposed to attack our guests! Call security! Call me! It's what I do!"

"There wasn't time!" she huffed.

"This is the second time you have assailed a Player of the Game!" Areyu got to his feet, helping a wheezing Amandrez upright as well.

"The _second_ time?" Reed eyed her curiously.

"Oh, I threatened to cut off his hand yesterday," Andie shrugged indolently. "I didn't actually touch him though."

_So that's what the fuss was about in Sickbay_, Reed noted. _God help any man who thought to take advantage of her when there were sharp objects around! _The muscles in his cheeks clenched even if his tone lacked a certain weight. "Are we going to have that talk regarding appropriate weapons on board again?"

"This is not funny!" Areyu looked outraged. "Amandrez is a valued Player! On my world your actions would be dealt with immediately!"

"We're not _on_ your world!" Andie bellowed at him. "We're on _my_ ship!"

Areyu paused. The woman was angry, and it didn't look like she intended to touch his nose any time soon. He thought a change in tactic might be in order. "I feel we have gotten off to a bad step." He looked at his teammate. "If I make certain that Amandrez minds his manners..."

"...then I won't have reason to retaliate," Andie finished for him.

Areyu looked at him man. "You will leave the humans alone," he told his friend. "Return to your quarters and remain there until I can speak with you further." The angry blond man glowered at the trio, but he did comply. He stomped his feet all the way back to his room.

"We have been far from civilization for too long," Areyu shrugged apologetically. "Your ship is overrun by...," his eyes prowled Andie's form, "...delectable treats. Can you blame him?"

"Yes! I can!" Reed seemed adamant about that.

It was Andie who hid her snort of laughter behind a cough. "You'll have to find something else to fill your hours," she assured him solemnly.

"There are too many hours to fill," Areyu sighed. "So close to the Games, we are all primed and ready for the competition. It is difficult to sit and wait."

"Must be hard," Andie smirked. She kept her gaze on the Player long enough that a spark of interest entered his eyes before she turned and moved away. "Keep your hands to yourself and you'll be fine," she smirked as she sauntered to the T-junction and turned left. As she rounded the corner she found Corporal Woods hurrying through the corridor, wearing civilian garb and looking nervously around. She rolled her eyes and jerked a thumb back over her shoulder.

"How was that encounter?" Areyu asked Malcolm when they were alone again.

"I don't think she likes you," Reed told him gravely, refusing to acknowledge the hints that she had sent toward the athlete.

Areyu sighed. "I have never had to work this hard to tempt the attentions of a woman. I shall have to double my efforts." He wandered off in the direction of his quarters.

Reed sighed at the aliens' retreating back. The last man to show any interest in the doctor had nearly destroyed the ship. He didn't want a repeat of that. He nodded grimly at Woods who skidded to a halt as he entered the corridor. "Status report!" he barked.

"He's faster than he looks," Woods muttered as he jerked to attention.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Malcolm exhaled loudly. He waved the corporal along to continue his unobtrusive observation of the handsy alien.

* * *

_Oraman Quarters_

When Hoshi had been tasked with finding quarters for their guests, she had peeked inside the alien vessel to see what comforts they required. It had been rather barren. There had been a large multi-purpose room that served as bedroom, cafeteria and gymnasium. The Comm officer sought to make them feel at home by arranging for them to stay in the MACO gym on F Deck. Only the half dozen alien crewmen had been given guest quarters, but all the players bunked together. Mats and blankets had been arranged on the sidelines and those that were not resting were making use of the exercise equipment on hand.

One tall man paced forward and back in desperate agitation. "Why do you protect that female?" Amandrez growled. "She should have been executed for even threatening to touch me!"

"She has great skills that we might enjoy," Areyu told him calmly.

"I'll bet!" Amandrez snorted. "But she doesn't seem willing to share those skills with all of us. Not even you, fearless leader!" His lecherous grin indicated the skills of which he thought his leader spoke.

Areyu poured a glass of something pale green and sipped slowly. "My shoulder has ached for months since that tackle at the beginning of our training. She applied a cream to my shoulder and the ache is entirely gone. Attaht has been troubled by the pain in his knee. She has cured that too. And what was that engineer's name? Anil? His hands are returning to normal."

"You're interested in her medicinal skills?" Amandrez dropped his attitude and became serious.

"Think of it!" Areyu's eyes started to shine. "We would be unstoppable on the field! Our injuries would be treated as we incur them! Our numbers would heal from their wounds and we would dominate the field while the others are decimated! We would rule the Games!"

Amandrez looked puzzled. "I thought we always have," he murmured sarcastically.

The blond alien looked at his companion. "It's getting harder," he admitted. "The Gamarans have always nipped at our heels. The Khinerans are coming on strong and the Duarthans are catching up to our skill now that they do not spend all their time digging in the earth. With Doctor Andie on our side, we would stay ahead of them with ease."

His companion considered their options. "So woo your doctor," he encouraged. "Get her on our side."

"It will be difficult if you keep assaulting her team," Areyu pointed out.

"I will behave my actions for a few more days," Amandrez promised. "I can wait to find a good Ulnythian woman who is anxious to please me."

Areyu nodded in gratitude.

* * *

_Outside the Captain's Quarters_

Reed paused with his hand on the button, as he had done for past two days. He should go inside. There were things to discuss; such as the doctor's attempts to maim their benefactors, or the series of upcoming games. Archer was a competitive man; he might enjoy watching the training sessions of the professional competitors.

Malcolm could offer his deepest regrets that he had failed in one of his most sacred duties, to keep the captain safe from harm. He could accept whatever recriminations his Captain had to offer. He might even be moved to offer his resignation. It was his, if Archer wanted it. He could resign and become a history professor like he planned when he was younger.

The picture in his head was theoretical since Malcolm had yet to visit his captain's sickbed, but he could imagine with disturbing detail the frail figure of the robust man, curled up and withering away in his bed where he would possibly remain until he died. The man who stood by him while he was pinned to the outside of the hull would be flat on his back. The man who had begged for Malcolm's life once when they were condemned to death would be without the customary bravado. The man who had stayed behind to ensure their escape before setting off the explosive devices on the Xindi weapon would never race out of the jaws of death with flaming trails of fire at his heels.

If he looked too closely into his mind, the frail man might look too much like his father. Malcolm put his hand down. It was too soon. He just couldn't go in.

* * *

_Conference Room_

_About six hours later_

"They are driving me crazy!" Andie hissed, trying and failing to keep her volume down. She had called the senior staff to the round table again and begged them to hold a quick meeting

"Keep your shirt on, Doc," Trip responded. "What are they doing that's so awful?"

"Among other things, Areyu keeps following me around and picking his nose!" she hissed. "Is the shower in his quarters working? Because he reeks!"

Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek to stifle the grin that threatened to break out. Even the brief movement of his jaw felt like it might cause his face to shatter.

"I'll check on the shower. Anything else?" Tucker inquired with a raised eyebrow.

"They are all suffering from muscle strains and minor breaks and when I patched them up yesterday I told them to sit still to let their bodies heal, but they just keep returning with more breaks and bruises! If I have to patch up Areyu's shoulder one more time, I'm going to kick him in the head!" Exhaling sharply, she drew in a deep breath and started again, in a more reasonable tone of voice. "I have an idea."

"Should I take us to tactical alert?" Reed inquired lightly. It was a perverse way to take his mind off of other problems, but he enjoyed the way her hands clenched the table tighter while she rolled her eyes and tried not to lash out.

"They want to stay sharp for their upcoming games, but I can't have them performing strenuous physical feats! There has to be some other way to prepare them for their campaign without actually resorting to violence!"

"What did you have in mind?" T'Pol inquired dubiously.

Andie pinned Reed with a look. "Chess is a war game, right?"

"Good movie, too," Mayweather mused. He was less amused by Andie's brief glare in his direction.

"Chess is a game of strategy and intelligence," Reed told him solemnly.

"So you could teach them to play chess and relate the strategies to maneuvers on the field?" Andie prompted.

"Chess is a complicated game," Reed informed her. "They may not grasp the fine nuance of the match."

"So start them out with checkers and work your way up," she informed him, ignoring his disgusted protests that the games were nothing alike. She whirled to Mayweather and pointed an excited finger. "What did you say about movies?"

"_War games_ is a film from the late twentieth century," Mayweather told her hesitantly. "Two kids think they're playing games but the A.I. nearly blows up the world."

"We could show them strategic types of movies," Tucker broke in.

"Yes!" Andie jumped all over that idea with enthusiasm. "Like what kind?"

"Like every sports movie ever made," Tucker informed her facetiously. "We could have a double feature every night and offer afternoon matinees. We'd need to take over one of the Observation Lounges so we don't screw up lunch."

"We could offer discussion panels about the tactics used by the winners and losers in those films," T'Pol suggested.

"Poker," Hoshi stated baldly. She almost hesitated at the many eyes that turned her way. "Poker teaches you to bluff and see through your opponent's bluff. That could be useful in games of physical prowess."

"So we can do this?" Andie clarified intently with more than a hint of desperation. "You can help me keep them busy so I don't kill them all at once?"

The rest of the senior staff exchanged glances. "We can do this," Tucker nodded when T'Pol didn't jump in right away.

The first officer nodded gratefully at his assistance. "Preventing your homicidal rage would be of benefit to the ship and the crew," T'Pol stated quietly. Her understated addition contained a hint of jest. They made a few more decisions before breaking up to return to duty.

* * *

_T'Pol's Quarters_

She'd taken to working here when she wasn't directly required at her Bridge station. Andie encouraged it; told her to reacquire her emotional balance in a place that was comfortable and familiar. It was lucky she had so much work to occupy her time. She clung to her occupation with a desperation that made her nervous.

_What would happen if Archer wasn't the captain anymore? Would another human invite her to join their crew? Would she want to serve under another human?_ She had no home on Vulcan to return to. This was her home. She didn't want to lose it. She couldn't lose her home. She was going through too much, trying to redefine her life, trying to find her way. Everything was fragile. _He had to get better!_

He would have enjoyed the games that Andie proposed.

T'Pol took a long breath into her lungs and a long breath to exhale. She put down her pad and began to light the traditional white candles. It was time to meditate.

* * *

_Aft Observation Lounge_

_Two days from Ulnythia_

"I do not understand the purpose of this event," Areyu sighed. Yet still he strode through the narrow corridors with the small woman by his side. His men followed behind. They were just happy to have something to do; unaccustomed idleness had made them twitchy.

"This is a different kind of training," Andie explained, trying to sound helpful and not resentful. "Your bodies are prepared for the Games, but what about your minds?"

"The mind rides along inside our heads," Areyu explained with infinite patience. "We know all the games that will be played."

"I'm talking about tactical advantage," she sighed. "Being able to read your opponents' thoughts and prevent their moves before they even start to make them will offer you an advantage on the field of battle. I'm talking about reading your opponent's intentions." She paused before the door and looked at Areyu. "You did read the information I sent to you, right?"

"We have studied your game," Amandrez agreed peevishly from behind his leader's shoulder.

"Okay then," Andie gritted her teeth and forced her mouth to smile. "Then let's play." She opened the doors and led her large companions inside.

The Aft Observation Deck was filled with chairs and tables. Quite a few people had volunteered for what was proving to be one of the most exciting receptions _Enterprise_ had ever hosted.

Ensign Sato stepped forward, holding a memo pad. "Good afternoon, gentlemen," she greeted them coolly. "I am Hoshi and I will be your host this afternoon. These are your table assignments." She handed out data pads with the pertinent information.

Andie stayed long enough to see them settled then slipped away quietly for some much needed time off from her escort duties. Archer wasn't in a better mood, although he was less vocal about his anger. Sullenness had settled in. She guided him through a series of exercises designed to retain mobility in his muscles. She changed his bedding and his pajamas and administered medication to dull his pain and his senses. He barely spoke throughout.

She stopped by the science lab and checked on T'Pol's progress. They compared notes on chemical levels and other biological matters. They worked in near silence for a couple of hours, until Andie decided it was time she headed back for the alien charges.

Although she entered unobtrusively, Hoshi sidled up to her at once. "How's the captain?" the linguist whispered.

"He's fine," Andie replied by rote.

The Comm officer sighed. "I know he's not." At the doctor's curious look, she shrugged. "The communications array has been offline for the better part of a week. It doesn't take that long to repair. I knew you and T'Pol needed some privacy and..."

"I thought T'Pol wasn't going to say anything."

"She didn't," Hoshi flushed. "But I'm not stupid. She took command after the disturbance on Renaisterre. She's been on the Bridge giving orders. Nobody's seen Archer. I'm not the only one who's noticed, but I thought you might need some time to…"

Andie considered the request. "He's fine, resting and recuperating."

"Can I see him?"

Considering the question carefully, Andie thought about the way that Archer had remained so still and quiet while she fed him soup and the way that he shouted at Tucker when his friend came to visit. Several people around the room noted her entrance and she smiled at them politely. "Not right now," she refused gently keeping her voice low. "He needs rest. How's it going?"

"_I am the champion Snakes and Ladderer of all time_!" Player Attaht jumped up with his arms in a victorious gesture. His enthusiasm knocked over the table and scattered all the little plastic markers.

"Another child? How am I supposed to feed another mouth on a school teacher's salary?" A player at another table cried out in desperation. "If I had spun a six I would be a lawyer by now!"

"No!" Crewman Azim grasped the short strands of dark hair in agitation at a third station. "How could I have landed on Boardwalk _again_?"

"I have four hotels there," Amandrez nodded gleefully. "That would be eight thousand dollars."

Azim let his few yellow paper denominations waft through his fingers. "I can sell you Oriental Avenue," he suggested hopelessly.

Amandrez offered a feral grin.

"It could be worse." Hoshi remarked with insincerity. "The only game still in play is the chess match between Reed and Areyu."

"How's that working out?" Andie asked.

A contemplative gaze brushed across the ensign's face. "It's...interesting."

Andie joined her at the edge of the crowd that gathered around the table where the final pair played their game. Areyu studied the board with deep concentration while Reed studied his opponent. "You any good at chess?" she whispered to Hoshi.

"I can play," the younger woman admitted. "The game is not determined yet but it looks like Reed will win this one. That's to be expected since Areyu is a novice."

One of the Players nearby flicked an ear in their direction as they spoke. Areyu made a move with his rook and members of the growing crowd sighed. It was pretty clear that the game was much closer to being determined in Reed's favor. Behind the crowd Attaht coughed loudly enough to make several people look around to identify the disturbance. Crewman Azim jumped away from the spray of bile flying from his mouth. While the others were looking at the pair, Amandrez shifted his weight to get a better look, jostling the elbow of Ensign Bowman who was just taking a sip of iced tea.

Knocked off-balance Henry's beverage tilted over and spilled down the neck of the tactical officer. The cool liquid washed several pieces off the board, and those that were left were sent rolling when the tactical officer jumped to his feet to avoid further wetting.

Amidst prolific apologies from the ensign and muttered curses from the lieutenant and gasps from the crowd around, Areyu managed to set the board back up on the sodden table. Someone offered napkins to Reed who dabbed at his damp uniform. With as much dignity as possible, Reed sat back down to take a look at the board game and noticed something amiss.

There were more pieces on the board than there had been before the disturbance.

"I think I had taken three of your pawns," Reed announced, preparing to shuffle the board back into position.

"You cannot touch the pieces while the game is in play, unless you forfeit your turn," Areyu pointed out politely.

"I'm just putting the pieces back in their original positions," Reed explained a bit testily.

"I have already done so," Areyu smiled pleasantly.

"I think you've done it wrong," Reed told him.

"Are you calling me a liar?" Areyu questioned.

Hoshi and Andie exchanged glances before the linguist stepped forward and broke in before it got ugly. "I think we can call this match a draw," Sato announced. "If that's all right with both of you?"

Areyu rose to his feet gracefully. "If you think this is best. It would be terribly difficult to determine where all the pieces were before the upset." He looked at his team. "Shall we retire for tomorrow's game strategy?"

The Oramans left the room. Areyu paused before Andie and touched the tip of her nose gently. "I would have won that challenge for you, my lady."

Andie lowered her gaze and smiled. "That would be very generous of you," she replied, letting heat flood her cheeks. As soon as he had stepped out the door, the smile faded from her face. She allowed the rest of the crewmen to step outside, except for Henry Bowman who was still apologizing to Malcolm.

"You handled that quite gracefully," she interrupted the profuse regrets of the younger man.

"Thank you, Doctor," Reed sighed. He looked down at his sodden uniform and clenched his jaw. "If you'll excuse me, I need to change before my shift starts." He slipped out of the room.

Andie prevented Bowman from following by slipping her arm through his. "It's all right, Henry," she told him gently. "Why don't you go see if you can get a head start on tomorrow's repair schedule?"

"Do you want to stop off for a fresh glass of tea?" Hoshi inquired, nudging Henry's arm and escorting him out the door. She exchanged another look with the doctor before they disappeared.

Andie sighed heavily, enjoying the peace and quiet for a moment before stepping out the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Andie stopped short.

Trip pushed away from his position against the wall and stepped up to look right at her. "I saw that look you gave him. You know this is a terrible idea!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Andie retorted.

"Did T'Pol tell you to do this?"

"I'm still not certain what it is I'm doing." She stood firm and glared.

"You're making up to him in order to procure supplies for our ship. Believe me; we don't need his stuff that badly."

"He's handsome and successful," Andie rejoined. "It's entirely possible that I find him interesting."

Trip looked down at her with barely suppressed fury. "No you don't." His tone was matter-of-fact.

Andie looked at him carefully. "Stay out of my love life, Tucker." The doctor moved away from the frustrated engineer without looking back.

"Did T'Pol tell you to do this?" he demanded again, keeping up with her shorter legs with ease.

"You were at the meeting," Andie pointed out. "T'Pol cannot command my affections."

"But you might take it in your own head to give him the impression that he's making headway," Trip gritted out. "I told you! We don't need his stuff that badly!"

"Then there is nothing for me to do but to enjoy a handsome man's company," Andie finished. She turned around and faced the engineer, her folded arms preventing his entrance to the turbo-lift. "See you later, Commander."

Trip couldn't remember the last time he'd been so annoyed with anyone. Or so concerned.

* * *

_Officer's Gym: B Deck_

_Just after dinner_

Andie had just finished leading the athletes in a series of yoga positions in order to keep their physical bodies in tune and they were just vacating the room, wiping their sweaty faces with towels. She had been somewhat amused to note that the Oramans didn't wear anything under their togas which made postures like Downward Dog to be more interesting than it should. She was still smirking at the memory when Areyu sauntered up.

She pasted an expectant look on her face. "That was a creative way to leave the Chess match earlier." Andie looked at Areyu.

"They called the match a 'draw'," he told her with disgust.

"Don't you ever have tied games on Ulnythia?"

"In the event of a tie, the Game will begin anew until a winner is named."

"On Earth, they call that a Sudden Death Match," Andie nodded. At his look of curiosity, she hastened to add, "Which is misleading; nobody actually dies."

"Perhaps I should challenge Reed to a Death Match?"

"Sudden Death Match," Andie corrected him absently. "But perhaps it's best to let it go. Tomorrow you'll learn poker and the fine art of a bluff."

"Bluff?"

"Intentionally misleading your opponent in order to win big," she clarified.

"Sounds like many social engagements I have taken part in."

"I should hope not," Andie muttered. She watched him leave. Tomorrow was going to be another long day. She dropped the towel from her shoulders and prepared to take a nice, long run on the treadmill. It wasn't until she was showered and in bed before she remembered that she had missed an appointment with Crewman Cutler to discuss her possible future in nursing. Cursing, she fell into a fitful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 4

* * *

_Mess Hall_

_One day from Ulnythia_

Unable to sleep Commander Tucker threw on his uniform and become resigned to getting a lot done in Main Engineering today, starting with an early breakfast. As he sipped a cup of strong coffee and toyed with his eggs, he ran through a list of chores. The consoles on the Bridge were all repaired, using EV suits to compensate for the lack of atmosphere due to the hole in the ceiling where the skylight used to be. As soon as they dropped out of warp for at least twelve hours that hole would be patched up and they would be able to use the primary dominion once again. He was chewing on his lip trying to decide which bulkhead to reconfigure to patch that hole without endangering the primary or secondary hull further when the double doors slid open.

The doctor entered. She paused when she saw him and stared at him evenly for a long moment. "Commander," she finally greeted him formally, moving toward the drinks dispenser.

"Doctor," he replied just as formally, annoyed at her stubbornness. All of a sudden he was tired; tired of fighting, tired of worrying, tired of it all. "Andie, can we talk about this?"

Turning from her perusal of breakfast items, she stared at him dubiously. "In the last two days you've called me a liar, a cheat and now you think I'm whoring myself out for spare parts. I think we've covered the important topics. What else is there to converse about?" Yanking a plate with eggs and toast out of the transparent window, she deliberately chose a table closer to the window and farther from Tucker then sat with her back to him. It was sheer petulance on her part, but she was tired and grumpy.

"I'm sorry about that," Tucker finally exhaled loudly. He picked up his breakfast and traded his seat for a chair at her table. "Do you mind?" he asked needlessly after the fact.

"If I say no will you use a plasma torch to cut the legs off the table?" she inquired sarcastically.

"I'm sorry about that too," Trip sighed exasperatedly. "I expected things to get better by now, but everything feels like it's just falling apart." He pushed his eggs around with his fork as he considered other things that were falling apart. "How is he?"

"Fine," she answered. No need to wonder which 'he' Tucker meant.

"When are you going to tell the crew about his condition? They know something's wrong."

"Who knows?" she demanded hotly.

"You, me, Reed, T'Pol," he listed. "The galley staff, several MACO's, I'm guessing at least one of the Communications team, not to mention..."

"All right, you've made your point," the doctor cut him off impatiently. "I am under no obligation to tell anyone about his medical condition except for the acting captain. I've done that. The rest is his choice."

Tucker played with his food some more. "A ship don't run right without her captain; you told me that once."

"You told me your crew was special," she countered.

He knew that telling a physician about their business was likely to get him in hot water, but fixing things was what he did best. "It's the debris in his spine that's causing the worst trouble, right? Can't we just use the transporter to get it out?"

Andie considered his option silently for a long moment, long enough for Tucker to mentally consider how Vulcan her expression of curiosity was. "If you can fine tune the transporter to pick up a single grain of sand from amid a pile of sand, then sure, we'll do that."

"A grain of sand?" he repeated.

"The heat from the transporter on the surrounding material will likely cook the internal organs not involved in the transport process so we'll need a fire extinguisher, or maybe a mop," she added with faux support. "That's assuming that you don't transport half of his intestines accidentally. You'll need a buffer and a coolant and one hell of a targeting array."

Tucker looked at her for a long moment, trying to decide if he should strangle her. "You're cranky. You need more _magic elixir_." His glower seemed mostly sincere.

Andie laughed at that. "Yeah," she agreed. "I could use a refill. How about you?" She filled his mug and they ate in a silence for a few moments, relieved at the restored companionship.

The doors opened again to reveal the willowy Vulcan. She glanced around the room and looked confused for a moment before striding over to their table. She settled in one of the empty chairs and began without preamble. "It is good that you are both here. The Captain has requested cessation of his visitors."

"What?" Tucker's fork stopped halfway to his mouth in shock.

Andie's reaction was calmer. "No," she stated simply, finishing her eggs.

"You can't be serious!" Tucker shouted again. It was good that they were the only three people in the Mess Hall.

"He is capable of making the decision regarding his own recuperation." T'Pol stated firmly.

"I do not concur," Andie countered evenly, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "That's why I ignored him the first time he made such a request." Like a distant echo she could hear Reed in her head saying that he believed she would do whatever she wanted with Archer and his wishes be damned. It seemed he was right.

"You knew about this?" Tucker turned to her.

"Of course I knew," Andie replied.

"And you didn't tell me?"

"To what end?" she queried tiredly. "Companionship is good for him. Without company he just lies there and broods."

"You will cease all future visitation per the captain's order," T'Pol stated again more firmly.

"I will not," Andie refused. Her eyes narrowed as she studied the Vulcan carefully.

"To go against the captain's order is considered mutiny," T'Pol pointed out. She was getting frustrated with the doctor's belligerence.

"Medical directive says I can override the captain in matters regarding his health."

"This isn't his health!" T'Pol's hand slapped at the table as she leaned forward combatively.

"It's his mental health."

"Any further action with land you in the brig!" T'Pol could sense that she was going overboard here, but she found it nearly impossible to stop.

Tucker's head was bouncing back and forth between the two women. There seemed to be a thick undercurrent to the conversation they were having but he couldn't quite pick out the thread.

Andie studied T'Pol for a long moment. "This is not a good decision, T'Pol." There seemed to be a warning in the few words.

"Nevertheless it is made," T'Pol insisted. She took a deep breath. "I expect you to comply." Rising suddenly she stalked toward the door she had just entered as the stunned pair watched her go.

"Good luck with that," Andie muttered under her breath scrambling to her feet and hurrying after T'Pol.

Tucker's mind boggled. "What the hell crawled up her butt and died?" he wondered out loud to the empty room. Dr. Andie didn't seem to hold to T'Pol's directive, but the captain had laid down the law. In the past it would have easy to decide whose directive he should follow; he was always on Archer's side. T'Pol may be the executive officer, but Archer was his captain, and more than that he was his friend. But now things seemed different. He didn't have the heart to finish his eggs. After clearing his table, he sighed heavily and headed back to work.

* * *

_C Deck, Corridor_

Andie caught up with the Vulcan before she made the turbo-lift. "You have an appointment in Sickbay in ten minutes!"

"I have made no such appointment," T'Pol informed her calmly.

"I just made one for you," Andie seethed. "You will be there so I can run you through the imaging chamber and get a deeper look."

"I have duties to complete."

Andie exhaled through her nostrils and tried to calm her rising temper. "Who's in charge if you step down as acting captain?" She tilted her head to the side and pretended to think very hard. "That's Commander Tucker, isn't it? I have been willing to comply with your orders because you are the acting captain but the moment your illness interferes with your ability to do your job, I will not hesitate to have you removed and explain why to Commander Tucker." She tilted her head in the other direction. "Your removal would require a security detail. I'd have to inform Lieutenant Reed as well."

"Are you threatening me?" T'Pol inquired very quietly.

"I'm pretty sure I can guess what choices Acting Captain Tucker would make regarding Archer's condition and I'm pretty sure I can offer him some suggestions as to what to do with your condition." Andie took a step closer, bristling with fury. "If you want to keep your secrets and Archer's you'd better be very careful not to make me suspect that you are not in your right mind."

T'Pol sagged. "I haven't seen him this upset since the destruction of the Paraagon Colony. He blamed himself for that and I didn't think that anything would make him feel better. In that case, he could take action. He could hunt down the wrongdoers and make them responsible for their actions. But in this case, he can't do anything but submit. Submission is hard for him. Having a healthy male around pretending that nothing is wrong makes him remember all the things that he will be giving up, all the things that make him who he is. It makes him...sad."

Human shoulders sagged too. "Archer doesn't meditate like you do. Being alone is not better for him like it would be for you." Andie glanced down at her data pad. "You have seven minutes."

T'Pol's head snapped up. "But...?"

"You ambushed me in the Mess Hall to make a medical diagnosis without consulting me. That's not like you. I want an imaging scan. You'll meet me in Sickbay or I'll drag you there by your hair."

"You're a bully," T'Pol hissed.

"I'm your doctor," Andie retorted. Before she turned around and walked back down the corridor she added, "Don't make me call Security."

* * *

_Observation Lounge_

_Late morning_

The Ulnythians were having trouble with the concept of poker, specifically the bluff. They had a habit of shoving all their chips to the center of the table, believing their hand to be the best simply because they held it. When other players exposed their bluff and proceeded to collect their winnings, the athletes cried foul. Lying to a Player during the Games was considered treasonous and more than once the Ulnythians had called for the appropriate sentence from the humans to no avail.

Andie stepped into the room near the end of their gaming session, as had become her habit. She was working on a pretty good headache. More and more often dealing with T'Pol felt like an attempt to wrangle a petulant tiger. It was hard work. She lingered near the door and took in the view of the tables with a long glance, appreciating the moment in which she had nothing to do.

"You missed another appointment," a voice whispered from the side.

Andie turned to find Liz Cutler looking at her with wide cornflower eyes and felt the pulse of the headache intensify. "I am so sorry," she apologized. No matter how sincere was her regret, she couldn't tell Liz what had kept her away from their second scheduled study date.

"Never mind," Liz waved away the remorse. "This is probably a bad time for you. You didn't have to agree to this at all. We can just forget it, maybe do it some other time."

Andie caught her arm. "The players are busy right now and I don't have any hosting duties. Let's go get that book from my quarters. It's still a bit messy but I think I can find it. There's no time like the present," she added when it looked like Crewman Cutler would object again.

Her brusque tone was unintentional but it cowed Liz into meekly shrugging her shoulder and moving toward the door. Ensign Sato saw them leaving and slipped out with them. "I can't believe I lost my whole pot to Attaht," she muttered in disgust. "I thought he was getting the hang of the bluff, but it turns out he was telling the truth. Where are we going?"

"The doctor promised to loan me a book," Liz offered.

"That's a lovely scarf you're wearing," Hoshi pointed out. The deep green color intensified the blue in the crewman's eyes.

"Thanks," Liz fondled the soft material. "Amandrez gave it to me when he apologized for his rude behavior."

"He apologized?" Andie inquired with surprise. His atonement didn't really set her mind at ease.

"Yeah," Liz blushed. "He got down on one knee and he was quite poetic about it. I think Crewman McGill got one too. It's marked with the Oraman symbol," she shifted the fabric to expose the embroidered thread shaped in the curlicue 'U' that was the banner of the Orama Province on each end of the scarf.

"That's lovely," Andie acknowledged, pressing the buttons to open her door.

The small room looked like it had been the victim of a very localized tornado. "Oh my God!" Hoshi called out. "I think you've been robbed!"

"No, it always looks like this," Andie demurred, kicking aside a pile of linens folded neatly and stacked on the floor. "Ever since the space frogs ate half my furnishings anyway. I haven't quite got it back to order yet. I think the books are over here." Her voice grew muffled as she ducked her head into a shipping crate and started shuffling things around. "Pull up a chair. This might take a sec."

"If you need any help tidying up…." Cutler offered, looking around her with trepidation.

"Not this one," Andie huffed, kicking the crate aside. She stared digging through a pile of papers on her desk.

Hoshi took a moment to look at the crate Andie had kicked aside. Something caught her eye and she pushed the lid all the way open to reveal several gowns tumbled in disarray. "These are beautiful," she whispered, pulling out the one on top. It was black satin with pale pink peeking out of the hem at the neck and the knee.

"Wow! These don't look like your usual style, Doc!" Liz crowed. She pulled out a red silk number overlaid with intricate black lace.

Pulling her gaze away from the paper that had sucked her attention away from everything else, Andie glanced distractedly over her shoulder. "Oh, those!" she sighed, waving a hand at the bothersome items. "They were a gift." Glancing over the paper once more, she folded it and put it in her pocket.

"Somebody must have loved you," Hoshi noted, pulling out a slim-fitting white silk dress with a silk flower on the single shoulder strap.

"No, somebody just wanted me to look good on their arm," Andie disagreed, sorting through a handful of pages that seemed to have fallen out of a book. She shoved the loose leafs back into a drawer in her desk and pounced on a small pile of laundry resting underneath her heavy boots. "Aha!" she crowed gleefully. The item was lodged between her footlocker and her bunk. Bending over at the waist she tugged and grunted until the heavy book flew free from its confines, nearly knocking her in the nose.

Liz looked up from her perusal of a deep blue taffeta dress with stiff skirts. Holding the dress up to her form, she shifted her weight from right foot to left to make the skirts swirl invitingly around her knees. "You okay?" she inquired without much concern. The doctor didn't appear to be bleeding or bruised.

"Peachy," Andie noted tiredly. She noticed the two women fondling the dresses with identical faraway looks in their eyes. "Pick one to keep," she waved at the dresses.

"Oh, no; we couldn't," Hoshi demurred, setting the black silk aside with great reverence and smoothing a hand over the thin satin bow on the front. She could tell with a practiced eye that it would fit her slender form like a silky hug and putting it down actually made her feel bereft.

"These are too much," Liz replied regretfully, giving the deep blue one last shake before attempting to shove all the skirts back into the crate from which they spilled. The dress playfully refused to conform.

"No, really," Andie encouraged. "I live in scrubs and jeans. I'm never going to wear them. They'll just go to waste. Go ahead. Consider it your part in helping me pick up my room."

Amidst a flurry of gratitude, Andie offered the thick tome to Liz, and the trio made their way back to the Observation Lounge. She studied the loose sheet of paper she had shoved into her pocket as they stopped by both cabins to drop off the gowns and Andie had forgotten about them entirely by the time they returned to the Observation Lounge.

* * *

_E Deck, Crewman's' Gym_

_Late afternoon_

"Keep your guard up!"

From her position on the treadmill in the corner, Andie had no trouble keeping up with the pair on the mats, even though she was reading a text and making notations as she walked on the rolling pad.

Corporal Parsons sighed and shook her dark hair out of her eyes as she reaffirmed her stance and prepared to defend against the impending attack. Commander T'Pol didn't appear to be suffering from the same fatigue. Gracefully, as she did all things, the Vulcan took up position with her gloved hands in the air and prepared to resume her assault.

The two women moved around in small circles trading blows and blocks. Parsons' face was redder than it usually was for such regulated combat; her injury was sufficiently healed to take up training, but in spite of the short time she was off her feet and the numerous exercises she had performed under the doctor's watchful eye, her knee throbbed with a dull pain as she maneuvered around the Commander's thrusts. Andie's head snapped up from her paperwork just as Parsons toppled to the ground.

T'Pol stepped back from her aggressive stance and concentrated on taking in deep calming breaths and exhaling slowly. "This is pointless," she told the doctor. Her temper remained particularly fragile today.

Andie stepped down off the treadmill and moved to check on the fallen woman, running a medical scanner over the injury and probing the joint gingerly with one finger, earning a dirty look from Parsons, who gritted her teeth to keep from gasping out loud. "Your knee is fine," she announced. "But I think your workout is done for the day. Help me." The last was directed at the Vulcan, who assisted Andie in moving Parsons to the edge of the mat where she could remain sitting with her back to the wall. The doctor administered an anti-inflammatory agent from a hypo-spray and patted Parsons on the shoulder. "Rest a minute. You'll be fine to walk home in a bit."

"I must return to my duties," T'Pol announced, reaching for a towel to mop her face.

"Not yet," Andie declared, stepping forward onto the mat. "I appreciate your assistance with the Corporal's recuperative therapy but since we're already here I'd like spend some time on the mat with you, if you don't mind." She was already fitting the protective gloves over her hands.

Lips pursed tightly together. T'Pol wasn't particularly happy about the request, but she had no intention of discussing it in front of the MACO and perhaps that was the doctor's intent. She accepted the challenge by stepping back onto the mat and facing off against the physician.

They circled each other carefully, each waiting for the other to make a move. "Go ahead, T'Pol. You won't hurt me," Andie challenged lightly.

"This is an unnecessary exercise in which I do not care to take part," T'Pol pointed out.

Andie sighed and put her gloved hands down with a tired, "Fine." As soon as T'Pol turned her head toward the door, Andie lifted her gloved fist and knocked the Vulcan upside the head.

Not one to take the unbidden attack lightly, T'Pol spun around and traded a blow of her own. Andie sidestepped lightly and the exercise was on in earnest. Parsons had an excellent view from her position near the door. For a pacifist, she thought T'Pol scored some excellent wallops. For a doctor, Andie was no slouch either, performing some complicated swings and defensive maneuvers that exactly mimicked the alien style that T'Pol was using. They were rather well-matched.

Until T'Pol put all her superior Vulcan strength into a blow that drove Andie back more than a single step. It wasn't just an exercise anymore; it had become a quest for blood. The slender woman stepped forward to drive another blow home, and the doctor barely managed to avoid a painful strike to her nose. She countered with an attack to T'Pol's face and the Vulcan aimed a series of thumps that sent Andie reeling on the ground. T'Pol crouched down over the fallen woman and prepared to administer a beating that promised to be a bloodbath. Parsons started to scramble to her feet, cursing her weakened knee.

The doctor was extremely agile and not one to give in. She twisted like a pretzel and caught her attacker around the neck with her leg. Arching her back, she used her whole body to throw T'Pol off, and landed in a crouch over the first officer. T'Pol thrust out an arm and sent Andie rolling off. Both women rose to their feet with raised fists, panting but intent on carrying on until one or the other was unable to continue.

"Excellent! Yes! This is what you must teach us!"

Both women were startled and embarrassed. They hadn't heard the door open. They hadn't noticed the small group of people who hovered in the opening. But neither was inclined to further their combat even though Areyu was quite impressed and encouraging them to continue. T'Pol looked directly at the doctor and they evaluated their situation silently. The Vulcan was the first to flush and look away.

Lieutenant Reed noted the silent communication with pursed lips, halting the Oramans from infiltrating the room to participate. Those women were still up to something, he decided. He just couldn't figure out what.

"_Ensign Sato to Commander T'Pol!"_ The request for communication was a welcome respite.

The first officer moved to press the button on the wall. "Go ahead, Ensign."

"_Commander, we're approaching the Ulnythian System and we've encountered a security patrol. They want to speak to the commanding officer and they are requesting confirmation that we have the Oraman delegation on board." _

"I'll be right there," T'Pol promised. She turned back to the doctor and managed to look her in the eye. "I'm afraid the rest of our demonstration will have to wait."

"As you wish," Andie nodded evenly. The Vulcan's temper had been on the brink for a few days but today it was beginning to slip away from her. The imaging scan had indicated a rise in hormonal levels and if the preceding combat was anything to go by, it was that T'Pol was susceptible to fits of temper and an unleashing of heated emotions within the blink of an eye. The mild sedative was no longer effective enough. They would have to increase their research.

"Would you care to accompany me to the Command Center, Player Areyu?" T'Pol inquired on the way out. Regretfully the Champion looked back at his preferred petite companion but nodded consent. He followed the Vulcan out the door.

Andie was kneeling down and checking on Parsons' knee. The marine, wisely, didn't say anything about the match she'd just witnessed even if she had concerns. "You need some help back to your quarters?" she inquired.

"I'll manage, Doc," Parsons admitted. "I'll be fine." Although she limped a bit, she managed to remain upright as she headed for the door. Lieutenant Reed kindly opened the portal for her and assisted her over the threshold. He even followed her into the hall and Andie guessed that he was asking her what had just happened.

That left her alone in the room with several of the Ulnythian players, including Amandrez. "Your skill is impressive," the blond athlete smiled. "Perhaps you will teach us some of your maneuvers before you go?"

"It was just a game," Andie demurred.

"I like games," Amandrez insisted, moving closer.

"Let Areyu's woman be," one of the others suggested, halfheartedly putting a hand on Amandrez' arm. The insolent man shook it off.

"Don't you like games?" he asked Andie, towering over her.

"Not really," she refused carefully.

"You just said you were playing a game," he pointed out. He moved closer, using his body to block her escape.

Andie planted her feet on the floor and looked up at him. He was taller and stronger and there were only three others in the room, but not one she could count on to come to her aid. She was all alone. "You've assaulted two of my crewmates," she told him in a low voice. "They were easy to corner. I am the doctor. I'm not that easy."

"That's not what Areyu says," the cruel man leered.

"You're going to want to step back and let me pass."

"Or what?"

"Or you'll be sorry." She sidestepped around him.

He moved to block, pressing his advantage and driving her back. He was predatory and she didn't like being prey.

"There's always one of you isn't there? In every species, on every world there is always one man who thinks he can take what he wants," she hissed.

"There is always that woman who likes a man who takes whatever he desires."

"That's just a lie you tell yourself in order to seem less small and petty."

Amandrez gripped her arm to prevent her from escaping him further. Once he broke the pact to keep his hands off, Andie was happy to drive the hell of one hand into his solar plexus, making him grunt. He grabbed that arm and twisted it around her back, eliciting a grunt from her. She twisted under his arm and shook off his hold before driving an elbow back into his nose. Scuttling backwards, she kept him in front of her as she attempted to move to the right or the left. He was not letting her pass.

"Areyu will not be pleased with your actions," she panted.

"If Areyu was as strong a leader as he should be, he would never have left me this close to you."

"You want to get close to me? Catch me!" Andie leaped at him and Amandrez leaned back to catch her, but she twisted like a fish out of water and wound up somersaulting through his wide spread legs before springing to her feet behind him. Just for spite, she reached out and slapped him upside the back of his head before he could turn around. Movement from the sidelines caught her eye and the fear that one of the other men might leap to their companion's defense drew her attention away at a critical moment.

Amandrez spun around with a roar. His height and extended arm span served him well as his muscular arm extended at great speed to connect with her midsection with such force that her feet actually left the ground. She flew through the air until her back hit the padded wall behind her where she slid to the ground gasping for breath.

Reed was the movement she had seen, returning to the gym. He was across the mat in seconds, spinning the angry man around and using a Klingon move to plant him facedown on the mat. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?"

"Amandrez!" Areyu's voice chimed in from the doorway. The Champion had just returned from the Command Center. "You agreed to leave them alone!"

"We were only playing a game!" Amandrez growled, wiping his bloody nose on his arm and resisting the urge to plant an equal pair of fists in Reed's face.

"It doesn't look like a game to me!" Reed snarled, releasing the man. He spun around to find Andie already on her feet. "Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she answered sullenly. She was shaking but not from fear or pain. Rage made her bristle. She forced herself to her feet and stepped carefully over to stand in front of Amandrez. "If Areyu is what you say, you wouldn't heel to his side like a dog to his master." She stepped a little closer; close enough to see the fury that glittered in her eyes. "If you ever corner me again, I'll put you down like a dog gone rabid."

"You would be killed for you insolence," Amandrez promised.

"Silence!" Areyu shouted, but Andie didn't care.

"You'd be dead first," she promised. Then she moved away toward the door. She growled a curt word and the three Ulnythians standing there scattered, allowing her unrestricted exit.

Malcolm turned back to the pair at his side, addressing Areyu not Amandrez. "You and your men have attacked three members of my crew! We are a little more than twelve hours from your homeworld. Once there you may act in any way your laws allow. But if any of you step out of line you will spend the rest of those hours in the Brig!"

"He will be dealt with," Areyu promised.

"He is no longer allowed to wander the halls of this ship! He will return to your quarters and he will remain there under guard!"

"I will do no such thing!" Amandrez shouted.

For all of Areyu's gentle manners in dealing with the doctor, he carried one hell of a backhand. He dropped Amandrez back to the ground. "You will remain in our quarters or you will reside in his Brig." His green eyes glittered. "Pick one."

Amandrez was mean but he wasn't stupid. He had crossed Areyu and as he had pointed out on several occasions over the last few days, it was against the Ulnythian laws to exchange blows with a Player during the Games. "I will do as my Champion commands," he answered sullenly.

Reed flipped open a communicator and brought a pair of MACO's to the gym to escort Amandrez back to his dorm. Once they arrived he was free to seek out the doctor and evaluate her injuries.

* * *

_Sickbay_

_Chief Medical Office_

"Are you hurt?" Malcolm barged through the door and immediately reached for the doctor.

"I'm fine!" Andie told him wearily. She put down the hypo she had just administered and drew in a shaky breath. "I've been hit harder. Something caught my eye and I just caught the tail end of it."

Lips pursed into a narrow line. He knew his entrance had distracted her. _He was the reason she got hurt. _"Where's your pistol?"

Andie lifted one eyebrow. She gestured at the lab coat hanging next to the door.

"You'll wear it while they're here," he told her.

One corner of her lip curled upward. "It's unregistered," she pointed out.

"You will be armed!" he burst out.

"What makes you think I haven't been so far?" Her gray eyes were dancing now, pushing aside the deep ache in her torso and the difficulty she had in drawing a deep breath. The medicine was making all that float away.

He hated that playful tone that came out when she was trying to distract him. But the idea that she'd had something special up her sleeve in case those barbarians had tried something disastrous made his lips twitch. She would have given them hell in a fair fight. "I'd like to see your injury, Doctor."

"Forget it, Reed. I'm fine," she waved away his request.

It only made him more certain that she was hiding something from him. "I want to see it," he repeated, moving closer to her position.

Andie scrambled to her feet, putting her desk chair between herself and the oncoming lieutenant. "You don't need to see anything, you pervert! I'm fine!"

Reed shoved the desk chair into its nook and moved closer, reaching out his hands. "You have a habit of lying to me," he pointed out, scooting around the obstruction. "I'd like to see for myself."

Backing up, Andie swatted his hands away, but he just kept reaching. She skipped out of his grasp, giggling and protesting all the while. "Cut it out, Reed! Don't touch me!"

Maybe it was the way that she giggled that let him know she wasn't seriously injured. Maybe he was entranced at the idea of a heavily armed female kicking the ass of the next Ulnythian to lay hands on her. Maybe he just needed to think of something less stressful for a moment, but suddenly he was having fun. Wiggling his fingers he moved a little quicker, feinting at the edge of the desk and nearly catching her before she changed direction. "Come back here! I want to see it!"

The final feint did her in. Her feet slipped a little on the slick flooring and he took the advantage afforded him; lunging forward and catching her around the waist, pulling her back against him. "Don't make me hurt you, Reed," she threatened with a smile, wriggling in his grasp.

He tugged on the hem of her shirt and she tried to prevent it. Catching his wrists, she turned her head and realized he was a lot closer than she had expected. The surprise at his proximity gave him the opportunity to slip up the hem of her shirt.

There wasn't even a bruise yet on the smooth surface of her pale skin. His index finger flicked lightly against a pink mark just slightly higher. "There's hardly a scar," he noted quietly. Not two weeks ago he had cut her open and removed an object and sewed her back up while she kept smiling and talking him through it.

"I had a good surgeon," she remarked with equal restraint. He had strong hands; it was hard not to notice.

"You allow Reed to assault you?" Areyu stood in the doorway watching the two scuttle around the desk.

Andie's cheeks flushed. She pushed away from the armory officer and tugged the hem of her shirt down. "It's different when Reed does it," she explained. "He's..."

Her brain searched for ways to finish that sentence. _He's a predator, he's a gentleman, he's delicious..._

"...harmless," she finished lamely.

The smile flew off of Reed's face. "Harmless?" he boggled with his mouth agape.

Andie's polite smile was firmly in place. "He was just checking my injury to be certain that the appropriate measures are taken."

"Amandrez has been reprimanded," Areyu told her. He remained unsmiling as he watched the two crewmates disperse. "You are well?"

"I'm a tough old broad," she smiled easily. "One hot cup of magic elixir ought to set me up just fine!"

"If I may escort you, Doctor?" Areyu held out his hand and she slipped her small palm into his.

"You must train your men quite well," Andie mentioned as she stepped through the door. "Amandrez didn't hesitate to take advantage of an opportunity."

"They are all trained not to waste a moment," Areyu agreed as he threw one last look back over his shoulder at Reed before they departed.

Malcolm could do nothing more than watch them go.

* * *

_Mess Hall_

_Late Dinner Hour _

"Harmless!" Malcolm gulped. "And then she complimented him!"

Tucker was biting the inside of his lip so hard he thought he might taste blood. "And how did that make you feel?"

"It made me feel like pounding him into a bloody pulp!"

"Because you don't think he deserves her best wishes?" Tucker teased with wide eyes.

"Because he _needs_ pounding!" Reed screeched. "He and his teammates have assaulted at least two other women on board and now they're moving on to Andie and you know as well as anyone what kind of trouble comes up when Andie gets involved in anything, and did you know she threatened to cut off Amandrez's hand?"

"That can't end well," Tucker agreed, sobering quickly.

"I know that!" Malcolm burst out, annoyed at the amount of effort it took to get Tucker to believe his interest this time. He jabbed at his dinner as though it had done him some wrong.

Tucker continued toying with his meal. "You said she and T'Pol were fighting?"

"Corporal Parsons said they were exercising," Malcolm sighed. "Andie likes to oversee everything personally, including my marine's rehabilitation. The sparring got a bit intense and both women called it off. It wasn't really fighting."

"T'Pol was a little short tempered with Andie at lunch today," Trip remarked. "You don't think she's sufferin' from some left-over effect from that last planet, and mebbe Andie's just not tellin' us, do you?"

Reed suddenly lost his appetite. Leaning back, he pushed his delicious ravioli away in distaste. "What purpose would it serve to hide the Commander's alleged illness?" he wondered quietly.

"That's somethin' I've been turnin' over in m'head all day," Trip nodded.

"If T'Pol is unfit, then command falls to you," Reed noted. He looked at his friend. "Perhaps they are trying to prevent that. If you were given command right now, what would you do?"

"I'd tell Chef to get crackin' on a pecan pie," Tucker joked feebly. He looked around the room as though seeking illumination. The hour was late and there were only a few other diners in the room. "I suppose the first thing I'd do is get us the hell outta here."

Malcolm folded his arms on the table and leaned forward to speak more privately. "Why do you suppose Dr. Andie would like us to remain here?"

"Cutler and McGill got some real nice gifts from their attacker," Trip suggested.

Reed frowned. "You think Andie's in it for the gifts?"

"Nah, not really," Tucker shook his head.

Malcolm didn't look convinced. "What else would you do?"

"I don't know, Malcolm," Tucker shook his head. He didn't get much further when the double doors opened and both men looked up. "Speak of the devil and she appears," Trip muttered.

Andie walked into the room, ignoring the sudden hush that descended upon the few inhabitants. She pretended not to notice, just walked through the room, nodding as though the crewmen who lingered over their meals had paid her the courtesy first. Two pairs of blue eyes watched her as she passed, nodding in recognition when she acknowledged them. They watched her press the button to the galley and a few minutes later a crewman popped out to deliver a thermal satchel.

On her way out Trip responded to an unspoken gesture from the tactical officer and pulled out the chair next to him. "There's room at our table," he smiled.

"Thanks, but I was just leaving," Andie responded. She did pause though.

"You haven't had any dinner," Malcolm pointed out. "The ravioli is lovely."

Andie looked askance at his nearly untouched plate. "That's quite a recommendation, but I have some things to do."

"Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine," she responded with maddening pleasantry. "I have to get back to work. I'll be out of the ward tomorrow and there're some things I need to finish."

"Out of the ward?" Trip inquired.

"Player Areyu has requested that I accompany the Oraman delegation to their medical check-in tomorrow, in case the Ulnythian medics have any questions about the treatments I offered them during their stay. That should be very interesting."

"What's going to happen to Archer while you're with the Oraman delegation?" Trip inquired hotly.

"He'll be taken care of," she murmured.

"Would you like a security detail?" Reed asked.

"No, I think I'll be fine," Andie refused gently. She sighed and lifted the heavy satchel. "Good night, gentlemen." With another tired smile she walked out of the room as peaceably as she had entered. The moment the doors closed behind her, the whole room exhaled as one. Conversations began once again.

Trip shoved back from his chair with a sound of annoyance. "I'm going to get some answers," he huffed.

"Where are you going?" Malcolm queried.

"To see the Captain," Trip retorted shortly. He paused for a moment. "You comin?"

A cold knot of worry made it hard to breathe. "I think I'll sit this one out," Reed responded. "You're his friend. He may tell you something he wouldn't say in front of me."

"You're his friend too," Trip pointed out.

"You've known him longer," Reed retorted.

Trip shrugged and headed for the door. "Longer don't mean better," he muttered. There was nobody around to hear him.


	5. Chapter 5

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 5

* * *

_Sickbay_

_Wee hours of the morning._

"Don't you ever sleep?"

Andie very carefully pressed a button to remove the sensitive scans she'd been perusing of T'Pol's latest round of tests and swiveled around in her chair. "You're up late," she remarked casually. Considering the noticeable lines around his eyes, Andie guessed that Tucker's conversation with Archer hadn't gone very well.

"I couldn't sleep," he fibbed, pushing aside any guilt about the untruth. _Why not? Everyone else was doing it these days! _"I thought a glass of warm milk might do me some good. Then I saw your lights were still on." He gestured at the computer screen which now held a series of scans on Tenebian mud worms. "I thought you'd be resting up for your big day tomorrow."

"I had some work to complete." She looked at him very closely and asked, "How was your visit with Archer?"

Tucker sighed and pulled up another stool to sit on. "He just lies there and says the ship belongs to T'Pol now. I don't know what to do for him."

Andie sighed heavily. "I don't either. My father always said apathy was an indulgence that we couldn't afford. He says there's always work to be done somewhere and we might as well be the ones to do it."

"You could let someone else do the work," Trip pointed out. "You know, share the burden?"

"They'd do it wrong," she assured him with a grin. The thought of someone else doing her work and doing it wrong gave her an idea. Her smile faded into a pensive frown and Tucker took the opportunity to nod at the screen again.

"You're seeing T'Pol, right? Medically, I mean?" Before the doctor could launch into her well-vocalized tirade, Trip held up a hand. "Wait! Let me rephrase that! I _know_ something's wrong with T'Pol and from the way you two carry on with your _whispers_ and your _secrets_, I _know_ you're taking care of her. I just wanted to let you know that whatever you're doing, it's not working." He shifted in his seat, making the chair spin slightly. "She's on edge. You're both on edge. Something's going on here that's making you both act twitchy and cranky."

One eyebrow arched up high. "Twitchy and cranky?" she repeated slowly. At this moment her temper could go either way, but Tucker didn't seem to give a damn.

"You're sparring verbally over simple conversations, and you were sparring physically in the gym. Reed says Parsons was worried 'bout you for a minnit, and that's before you provoked Amandrez."

"I didn't provoke him!" she protested hotly. She scowled at the pointed look Trip offered instead of an argument. Eventually she exhaled heavily and snorted. "I may have overreacted but I didn't provoke him," she muttered. "I don't want to be twitchy or cranky. That's gonna stop."

"Just like that?" Trip teased with a small smile.

"Just like that," she agreed solemnly.

"Maybe you should pass on some of your responsibilities with regards to our new friends?" he suggested. "Anyone on board could show them the ropes. You should learn to delegate."

"You don't delegate much," she pointed out defensively. "Besides Areyu seems to have taken a special interest in me." Andie rubbed her eyes tiredly. "He's sort of...childlike...in his outlook on things. It's sort of sweet."

"It dunnit hurt that he's gorgeous?" Trip prompted her. The doctor lifted one eyebrow with dubious amusement, and he hastened to justify his assessment. "Not that I would know what a gorgeous guy looked like. I heard some of the crew talking about him." The room swirled around him as his feet pushed the chair into another spin, chortling quietly.

"It doesn't hurt that he's pretty," she agreed hesitantly. "But escorting him around was part of my job. They needed a babysitter and Areyu seemed determined to spend all his time with me, so I obliged him. I may have flattered him a little to keep him happy but I never promised him anything that wouldn't stand up to scrutiny by an oversight committee. Not once was I compromised!" She was rolling her head around on her neck.

"I caught you with him in Sickbay and he was naked," Trip pointed out.

Andie rolled her eyes. "He's always naked," she sighed. "He drops his toga at the drop of a hat. Clearly Ulnythia has few qualms about the natural body." She noted Trip's amusement and waved away his gentle joshing. "This is all a moot point. Tomorrow the Oramans will set foot on their native soil, I will no longer be their Ambassador, and everything will return to normal. We might even get a chance to watch a few games. I could use the relaxation."

Trip couldn't resist one last dig at her defensiveness. "Maybe you should ask Malcolm to assign a guard to watch over you. Wouldn't want you to get compromised," he mentioned as he clambered to his feet.

At the mention of the tactical officer, Andie flushed. Her brain helpfully supplied a detailed recreation of being pressed against the armory officer while he lifted her shirt to check her wound and her mouth went dry, just as it had that evening in the CMO's office. Areyu had conveniently showed up and she had all but leaped into his arms in order to get away from Reed without looking like she was trying to get away from Reed. Her rash action had forced her to suffer the consequence of listening to Areyu list his favorite moments in sports for an hour while her mind wandered away.

It had been quite a while since a man made her nervous enough to run away and she didn't like the implication of her quaking knees one bit. Suddenly she was tired of fooling around. "You know, I have a lot of work to complete," she cut off their conversation and waved at the screen in front of her. The engineer wished her good night and stepped back out into the hall, leaving her to force her thoughts into some semblance of order to try and make sense out of the rising hormonal levels of the first officer, instead of her own.

In the corridor, Trip glanced back over his shoulder thoughtfully. In spite of all the time she was offering to their alien guests, Andie didn't blush like that when she talked about Areyu. Hell, she hadn't blushed like that when he was stark naked on her bio-bed; even Trip had been disconcerted at that sight. But she grew awkward and irascible when talking about Reed.

There was definitely something different between them, and it had changed sometime on that last planet, although neither seemed to be aware of that fact; maybe they were just refusing to acknowledge it. Thinking about things that had changed made Tucker consider Archer lying there on his bed unwilling to make any changes to his current routine, and a large knot formed in his gut. The pecan pie he'd had with his warm milk settled like a rock in his stomach and he rubbed his chest painfully as he resumed his journey toward bed.

* * *

_Outside Captain's Quarters_

_0500 hours_

Outside the captain's quarters, for the umpteenth time Malcolm Reed lifted his hand to press the buzzer and for the umpteenth time he hesitated. He wasn't quite certain what he would say to the man whom he had failed to protect. There was a part of him that wanted to enter this door and spill his guts to the captain; tell him everything that had been going on and seek his counsel as to whether or not everyone on board had recently lost their minds. At this moment the doctor was preparing to disembark to the planet's surface to attend the medical examination of their guests, and in spite of the difficulties they had in keeping their hands off the crew on this ship, Commander T'Pol had been the one to sanction that request to send the doctor into their midst like a gazelle in front of a herd of jackals. The only way to retrieve the situation was to put the Commander back in the second seat and force the Captain back into his chair by shaking some sense into him if need be.

He could be firm in the face of self-pity. His father had lectured him soundly on the topic after he lost someone special to him and he felt fully prepared to reiterate some of those motivational speeches. His father had suffered disappointments too; his leg wound had prevented him from serving on a battle ship, but he had taken a desk job. Malcolm knew his father missed the smell of the sea but he had proved to be an invaluable asset to His Majesty's Fleet. Sometimes he thought that might be why his father was so difficult with which to get along; missing out on something that was so integral to who you were as a person would put a hole in anyone's gut, a hole that was impossible to fill.

Malcolm's hand dropped to his side. He'd never brought his father's spirits higher. He didn't know why he thought he could do anything for Captain Archer's. He was performing a small act of kindness; it shouldn't be this hard! It would be easier to throw himself in front of a Klingon disruptor than it was to walk through this door. With a clenched jaw, he turned around and prepared to walk away in disgrace. He was surprised to find his path blocked.

"Hello, Doctor," he mumbled as he struggled to halt his forward momentum and not tumbled over the top of her. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest. The temperature was probably set too high on this deck.

"I didn't expect to see you here, Reed. Are you heading in to see him?" She noted the shadows under his eyes and how wretched he looked to be standing there.

"I...I guess so," he waffled uncharacteristically. She maintained a tone that was both polite and distant. It was unlike her. "How is he?"

"He's quiet," she decided after a moment's consideration. "Too quiet, if you ask me." Tilting her head to one side, she considered the lieutenant. "You haven't been in to see him yet, have you?"

Malcolm felt the knot in his chest tighten. "I didn't want to intrude."

"You won't be intruding," she told him. "You want to come in while he has breakfast?" She tried to step around him.

Inadvertently he moved and found he had blocked her forward direction. "I...can't," Malcolm protested. He forced his gaze to meet hers. Words spilled out of his mouth. "I told him I was losing faith in him. It was one of the last things I said to him." Shame burned the skin off his cheeks. _Here he was confessing to the one person on board who could _never_ understand what that meant!_

Andie remembered that confrontation in front of the Royal Tent. Both men had been on edge and said things that she presumed they would not have felt under regular circumstances. "Is that true?" she inquired softly. "Have you lost confidence in him?"

Malcolm laughed softly without much mirth. "Actually I have more faith in him now than I ever did." He would marvel every day at the way Archer had stepped up in the Expanse and taken charge of what looked to be a one way mission, and then turned it into a diplomatic opportunity. It had brilliant strategic value that Malcolm hadn't considered when they started out.

"That's sweet. I'm sure he'd like to hear that." Andie shifted the heavy tray in her arms. "I called him a fame whore." At Malcolm's disbelieving gaze she clarified, "You know, somebody who seeks notoriety at any cost."

Disbelief faded into a wince. "He's not like that," Malcolm protested.

"Yeah," Andie agreed quietly. "Only a selfless bleeding heart would throw himself in front of a bomb like that to save another." She wrinkled her nose. "I just think he's having trouble seeing the positive aspects of his situation. He could probably use a friend right now."

Wistfully Reed glanced back over his shoulder. Somehow the Doctor's presence threw him off. He couldn't remember what it was he meant to say to the Captain. She had a way of riling him up. "I don't think I can go in right now."

Andie nodded. "Sure, whenever you're ready." She continued to look at him passively.

"Is there something else you need, Doctor?" Reed inquired. The way she was looking at him made him have trouble swallowing.

"You're standing in front of the door," she answered, gesturing with her chin.

His cheeks flushed dark red. "Excuse me, Doctor," he apologized. He even took a moment to press the door release button to aid her entrance.

Either he could go in with her or he could go back to the armory and find something to repair. At least a dozen synonyms for coward danced through his head. With a heavy heart he turned on his heel to go, feeling his gut clench in response.

Before he reached the turbo-lift, he stopped and snapped his fingers as an idea flooded his head. He couldn't protect the captain, but he could oversee the doctor. He hurried off to find T'Pol.

* * *

_Sickbay_

_0600 hours_

"Good morning, Commander!" The words were in particularly good spirits this morning and T'Pol was in no mood for her to be chipper. "Take a seat on the bio-bed."

"I will wait in the office," she announced quietly.

"No, I need you here." Andie pulled out a hypo spray and popped a new cartridge in. "I'm changing your medication and I need the main sensors to check your progress."

T'Pol looked around the room, feeling exposed and vulnerable. She moved closer to the physician. "We agreed to keep my medical problem confidential," she hissed.

"There's nobody else here, and I'm not telling anyone your secrets," Andie acknowledged. "But you have to let me do my job." She waited expectantly at the Vulcan, who was certain that she would wait all day and all night if that's what it took. Her lips thinned in displeasure as she reclined upon the bed. The doctor pulled the thin curtain around the bed and took scans before pressing the hypo against T'Pol's neck.

Among other physical changes that were occurring to her was the distinctly heightened sense of smell. T'Pol could smell the soap that the doctor was washed with and separate it from the apple scented shampoo she'd used on her hair. The smell of disinfectant in the room was particularly strong, as was the faint scorched smell of a computer working hard. In the corridors she had noticed every coat of fresh paint, every twinge of hot electricity, every drop of sweat or blood that had fallen. Being assaulted by scents of every kind in every direction was driving her mad, in addition to eliciting a throbbing pulse at the back of her head.

"I understand that the communications array should be back to normal soon," Andie noted. She tried not to squirm under the Vulcan's gaze. "I think we should revisit the option of calling the Vulcan Medical Directorate for assistance with your condition."

"You may not make that call," T'Pol refused. They had tossed her out on her ass; for being assaulted by a telepathic renegade and denigrated her for requesting aid that was readily available for it. They had maligned her for standing by her crewmen by entering the Expanse with them, and caused her to leave a post she had worked hard to attain. Their unsavory legislative practices had driven her mother out into the desert until she died in T'Pol's arms. The Vulcan Directorate was no friend of hers and she refused to give them the satisfaction of allowing them to witness her helpless condition. She would rather die!

A small voice in her mind suggested that such passion for a disembodied group was extreme. Her vitriol for their part in her troubles was unwarranted. T'Pol ignored that voice.

Andie was changing cartridges in the hypo-spray. She pressed the device against T'Pol's neck and the barely audible _whoosh_ rang like a tolling bell in the Vulcan ears. "I'm upgrading your nasal numbing agent," the doctor told her. "How did you feel after our exercise last night?"

"You know nothing about Vulcan physiology," T'Pol informed her. "If you think the blood fever can be managed with a few maneuvers on the mat." She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. The wildly erratic and overpowering scents had dimmed greatly. Her shoulders slacked in relief.

"The Medical Directorate has been studying _Pon farr_ for a very long time and they can't do more than delay it a bit and lessen the symptoms. You and I can't keep at this for long before you become a danger to yourself."

T'Pol drew in another deep breath and released it slowly. Her hands had ceased their trembling and the headache had dissipated. "I am in complete control, Doctor."

Frustration barely held at bay, Andie just sighed. "I need you to remain on this bed for another twenty-eight minutes to make certain there are no further complications from the new medicine."

"As you wish, Doctor," T'Pol agreed. She picked up data pad and consulted the schedule of the day intently, effectively dismissing the doctor. "Please do not let me keep you from your duties elsewhere."

_That wasn't a problem_, Andie noted tersely. She had a long list of chores to complete.

* * *

_Starboard Airlock_

_0745 hours_

The rather sizeable group was preparing to step through the hatch and enter the waiting transport when feet could be heard pounding on the deck plating. Lieutenant Reed practically flew around the last corner and drew to a halt with what dignity he could muster. "Don't leave without me!" he panted.

"What is the meaning of this?" Areyu stepped forward.

"I'm here to escort the doctor on her visit to your world," Malcolm answered, getting his respiration under control so he could stare at the visitors with steely resolve. This was the crucial moment. The doctor might derail the whole plan if she put up a fuss.

Andie raised her eyes from the pad she was studying to look him over for a long moment. She seemed puzzled, but her attitude remained at ease. "You were almost late," she told him nonchalantly.

"Sorry, traffic," he answered with equal carelessness.

"The Oraman guard will take care of her on the surface," Areyu protested.

"Their duty is to see to your safety first," Malcolm challenged. "My duty is to see to her safety first."

"Besides first contacts are always done in pairs," Andie interjected.

Reed's head swung around in spite of his intention to remain aloof. He'd written out a report to that effect some time ago, although it hadn't been met with a great deal of enthusiasm. _Surely she hadn't looked up some old reports of his in order to stroke his ego?_ It was more likely that she'd had the same thought, he told himself.

"You were willing to attend with me alone a moment ago," Areyu pointed out.

"I had no intention of going alone. There was still time. I hoped that Reed would arrive and he did." _Was it still a lie if it was inadvertently the truth?_ She turned her head up to Areyu and smiled around her flushed cheeks. "So let's go."

"There is limited seating," Amandrez stalled on behalf of his leader, blocking the door with his large body.

"Well then, we'll catch the next one," Reed suggested, dropping back to lean against the corridor wall next to Andie.

"There will not be a next one." Areyu tried to reason with them but his patience seemed to be growing thin.

Andie noted his impatience and grew slightly wary, although you'd never know it from her body language. "You know, it's not really necessary for me to be present. Just tell your physicians to call me if they have any questions about your treatments. I'll be in Sickbay." She pushed to her feet and turned on her heel.

There were some girls who naturally played the dating game, advancing and retreating with quick and easy grace. Those girls might learn something from the doctor, Malcolm thought. Everything about her tone said "my way or the highway" and Areyu seemed to be playing along.

"Wait!" Areyu called out. Realizing he'd pushed her too far he moved to her side and took her arm. "I would be honored if you would attend our meeting. I want you to see my world. They will treat you well and you will enjoy yourself." He flashed a winsome smile. "If you prefer your friend to join us, then he will join us as my honored guest."

On second thought, Malcolm amended; maybe those girls could learn something from Areyu. He didn't seem to be giving an inch.

* * *

_Mess Hall_

_0750 hours_

"Um, excuse me, sir?" A timid voice broke through Tucker's reverie. He had gotten to bed late and then tossed and turned. He wasn't feeling his best this morning as he hunched over a plate of bacon and eggs that had long ago lost any appeal as articles of consumption. He raised reddened eyes to find Crewman McGill standing next to his table. She was a timid redhead with pale skin and the strain it took her to instigate conversation with her superior officer had colored her face nearly purple.

"What's up, Tess?" he inquired tiredly.

"Um, I have...a problem with the new duty schedule and um...I guess I was hoping...well, I thought I would bring it to your attention..."

"What's up, Crewman?" he asked again, keeping his voice soft in order not to frighten her further.

"You asked me yesterday to work on the sensor array network today but the new duty schedule has assigned me to work in the Greenhouse on B Deck." Tess chewed her lip in consternation. "I'm afraid I don't know anything useful about plants, sir."

Tucker forced his lips to bend into a smile. "I'm sure it's just a clerical error, Tess. Why don't you go ahead and take on that sensor array and I'll clear it with T'Pol."

"Thank you, sir." Tess flushed again and turned away.

Throwing down his unfinished toast, Tucker gulped the last of his coffee and stood up. After dropping his dirty dishes in the bin, he tapped a few buttons on the console next to the door and called up the duty roster. His mouth turned down in a frown. McGill's issue wasn't the only problem he could immediately see. Taking a deep breath, he headed out the door. The first stop of the day would be to talk to T'Pol.

Crewman Azim caught up with Tucker in the hallway. "Sir, I have a problem. Commander T'Pol has scheduled me again, but I've been working for four days straight and this was supposed to be my day off..."

Trip's frown deepened. He wondered if whatever was wrong with T'Pol might be sapping her of her attention to detail. Then again if she was feeling ill maybe it stood to reason that her work would suffer, especially since she had extra duties these days with the captain off his feet. "I'll take care of it." He sent Crewman Azim off with the promise to fix the problem and went in search of the Vulcan. Before he actually pressed the buzzer on her door, Tucker considered whether or not he might be disturbing her further. She was proud; she would refuse to admit that she was overwhelmed. She would probably take her frustration out on him in order to push his inquiries away, since she didn't seem to want to talk about it.

Instead of seeking the Vulcan's counsel, Commander Tucker turned around and made his way to his cubby in Main Engineering. Instead of consulting the first officer, he just made the necessary changes. He found a couple of other errors and fixed those as well. Whatever he could do to make her day easier would be worth it. Taking the burden off her shoulders would allow her extra time to rest up. She'd be feeling better sooner rather than later and she would never have to know that he was assisting her in any way. Her attitude of late had been particularly dismissive. He didn't think she'd appreciate his interference. He'd just have to keep his schemes to himself.

On a whim, he had the computer scan the records for any work that T'Pol might have assigned herself that she didn't have to take on alone. He rescheduled a few of those things as well. He'd help her whether or not she wanted it, and he would be the only one who knew.

Leaning back, he laced his fingers behind his head and smirked. This was going to be a challenge to stay one step away from her bloodhound's nose. He was going to relish the enterprise.

* * *

_Ulnythian Passenger Bus_

_0808 hours._

In spite of the Oraman assurance that space was limited, everyone had been seated in the luxurious transport. Reed had settled at the back next to Andie who had flopped into a chair near the window without any further comment. There were the usual noises and alarms as the cabin was pressurized and the ship pulled away from the airlock. The first jolt brought Reed's attention to the woman next to him; he knew she was a little nervous about space turbulence. There was no reason to worry; she was already asleep.

Monitors dropped down from the ceiling in several locations and athletic propaganda was perpetuated in the small cabin along with a multitude of reminders and changes to the upcoming Games. In spite of the dozen or so large men jumping up and down and cheering, Andie didn't wake up. The next slight bump jostled her head and it would up on Reed's shoulder. Her deep, even breathing never faltered.

She must be exhausted. He really wanted to indulge his sarcastic inner voice by making note of the long hours she must be turning in entertaining their guests, but the shadows under her eyes tugged at something else inside him. Most people looked younger when they slept because the strain that plagued them during the day had drifted away into a restful sleep. Andie just looked worn out, as though whatever personality she exhibited during the day kept it all at bay and it was only at night when she was unconscious that she let it all show. Reed decided she must be under a great deal of strain, keeping Tucker and T'Pol from getting at each other's throats and keeping Archer under watchful eye and working with the crew who had been injured on a harsh and unforgiving world just before a cataclysm had kick-started new life on its dry and withered surface. Malcolm toyed with the idea of waking her, but instead he let her get a few winks in.

Outside the narrow portal on her other side, he could see their destination growing larger as they dipped closer to the ground. The shuttle made a full circuit around the city that was the site of the upcoming Games. This view of the alien city was too much to let go. Malcolm nudged her carefully. "You should see this, Doctor."

His low whisper had done what all the hooting and hollering of the athletes could not; Andie was awake in an instant, yawning as she looked out the window. "Are we there yet?" she asked, as many restive travelers had asked before her. Reed gestured at the window with his chin, marveling at the way the lines between her brows disappeared when her chameleon eyes were open and she turned away from him, cutting off his view of her features. Below her was the site of the upcoming Games.

Champion City was the heart of it all. The center of the metropolis was an large open area surrounded by shops and restaurants and services. There were plenty of benches and fountains for sitting or dining. The buildings grew in height with each evenly space loop around the interior. It was likely that people gathered on the balconies that overlooked the center to watch whatever spectacle might occur there. Seven wide avenues extended out from this central hub like a pie cut in pieces but not yet served. Each slice was a community unto itself, large enough to house huge sporting arenas at the widest points, surrounded in turn by their own set of ever taller buildings with wide viewing balconies decorated in the colors and markings of the particular team that section was devoted to. The seven spokes were united by a wide boulevard that circled around the entire city, giving the effect of looking like a large wagon wheel.

All entrances to the seven avenues were strictly monitored by security checkpoints. Armed security agents patrolled the streets on foot, keeping a sharp eye on sudden bursts of noise or especially large groups. And there were a wide variety of people sporting ecstatic faces and bearing the logo of their teams, dragging children and waving banners, eating foods and chattering together. One third of the city was surrounded by water and a fresh breeze blew in, fluttering the silken flags and banners that seemed to be everywhere. Softly rounded hills rose up behind it, cradling the city close to the water way where sandy beaches stretched out on either side of Champion City. It was a bustling with sentient beings and civilization.

The passenger bus landed on a raised platform in the wedge of city decorated in green. As soon as the doors opened, crowds cheered. Although the noise was deafening and growing louder, each Oraman in turn stood and exited the bus, waving at adoring fans and displaying a set of teeth that would make any dentist envious without the slightest hint of nerves.

After the last athlete had departed, Malcolm stood and offered a hand to Andie, which she ignored. She stood and slung her medical pack on her back, sighing heavily. "I guess it's too late to turn back now," she grumbled without much rancor. Malcolm stood back to let her move forward first. Shaking the last of her brief nap away, she took a deep breath and headed out into the bright sunlight.

As she stepped out into the dewy sunshine of the early morning, the crowds cheered again. Areyu was holding an arm in her direction, having just introduced her to his fans as his savior. They screamed her name too, trying to reach over the barriers to touch her. Awkwardly patting her shoulder and blessing her generosity for bringing 'their boys home', they kept pressing closer, unnerving the physician who leaned back, colliding with Reed who had managed to disembark without fanfare. For her protection he placed a hand at the small of her back and nudged her forward, following the line of tall Oramans down a staircase and through the throngs, keeping a barrier between the longer reaches of the overexcited crowd and the doctor.

The athletes were swept past a long green banner into a large cool room. Security personnel stopped the strangers until Areyu noticed they were missing almost a dozen steps away. He had to return to speak with the guards at the checkpoint before they were granted access. Security wanted to confiscate Andie's medical pack but she refused to surrender it. Areyu vouched for its contents with a languid wave and an amused look at the stubborn female. Then he joined his companions who had passed beyond a velvet rope and gathered on the long dais under their corresponding logo, the graceful sweeping 'U' in gold on a green background.

Malcolm took the opportunity to glance around. There were six other nooks like the one where the Oramans stood, empty for the moment, awaiting their teams to arrive. A large group of officials gathered round, consulting with Areyu and the others. Flashbulbs kept popping as pictures were taken. Questions were thrown at the team and they answered them all with their million-watt smiles. A harried looking man stepped forward, shooing the media away with a sigh. He said something to the men that was imperceptible to the pair of humans who loitered uselessly in the middle of the room. It wasn't hard to guess, even without a UT; the entire team unfastened their broaches and green fabric pooled at the feet with a barely perceptible swish.

Beside her, Andie could hear the sudden gulp and she dragged her attention from the tall ceiling painted with frescoes. "What's wrong?" She turned her head and noticed the source of Malcolm's discomfiture. "Huh," she grunted as though something just made sense. "They were always dropping their togas. I guess that's why. It's just a cultural thing."

"They were naked often?" Reed queried sharply.

"Just in Sickbay," she retorted offhandedly, as though it was nothing to make note of.

"Their flesh is bared to the medical practitioners in order to facilitate the betting." A soft voice articulated from their immediate vicinity. A small Ulnythian waited patiently nearby, holding a green woolen wrap out for the doctor to take. The toga she wore was the same lavender shade as her eyes and her hair, which may or may not have been her natural color.

"How does nudity aid the betting?" Malcolm inquired.

"There can be no subterfuge. All imperfections are displayed. All advantages are weighed. Large sums of money are placed on the smallest of details. Those placing the wagers must have all the information at their disposal to make it fair."

"Betting's a big game here?" Andie inquired casually.

"Of course," their companion nodded, lowering her eyes to the floor. "The Senate takes a portion of all bets and the money goes into the proper coffers. We all benefit from the wager." Lavender eyes darted upward. "I am Zaftig. It was suggested to me to offer you a wrap?"

"No, thank you," Malcolm refused immediately.

Andie looked surprised. "Thank you," she acknowledged with a nod. Zaftig helped her drape the long fabric over her shoulders to keep out the chill of the morning air. A bustle drew their attention and Andie nodded at the newcomers. "Who are they?"

Tall, slender men sauntered in, wearing orange togas that draped and swirled like fire around their bodies. Their skin was bronzed and their hair was the same blazing orange as their clothing, and it stuck out behind them as though perpetually blown by a large fan. They took their place opposite the Oraman team and presented themselves for inspection by the media.

"They look like Pippi Longstocking," Malcolm muttered.

"That is the Khineran delegation," Zaftig answered quietly. "Their ancient world was made entirely of volcanoes. Their ancestors watched the skies and the mountains and learned to harness the power of heat. Their modern world is given over to the study of fire and the creation of machines. The lights you see lining the streets outside are courtesy of the Khineran Province."

"Wow!" Andie breathed lightly. Malcolm was reasonably certain she wasn't awed by their naked skin, since the Khinerans dropped their clothing as well. "They must be the Aquaran Province." She was looking at a completely different group of newcomers.

Deep blue eyes were offset by dark blue hair on each tall figure. Even from this distance Malcolm could see their fingers and toes were slightly webbed and their skin gleamed like they were fresh out of the water.

"Their ancient world is much like their modern one," Zaftig informed them. "Their Province consists of a series of islands and waterways that rise and fall on the whim of the tide. They have mastered fishing and sailing, of course, and have been extremely ingenious in their creation of irrigations systems for the agrarian societies." She lowered her head again. "The fountains you might see in the courtyards are courtesy of the Aquaran Province."

"Which Province are you from?" Andie inquired, snuggling into the soft fabric she wore.

"I am Zitheran," the woman answered, lowering her eyes to the floor.

"What are the Zitherans known for?" the doctor pressed gently.

"We live to serve our fellow countrymen in any way they require." Zaftig spoke with pride, confusing Andie somewhat.

"Like slaves?" she queried, sounding a little more shocked than she intended.

"No, we live to serve!" Zaftig squeaked indignantly. "The boulevards outside were created from the sweat of the Zitheran brow. We have been present at every major event and every significant achievement of this world. They could not live without us, and we would not live without them!"

"Really?" Andie sounded impressed. "All the cooking, cleaning, sewing is your doing? The manual labor, the machinists, the..." She raised her head. "Did you do the ceilings too?" She pointed at the frescoes.

"Oh, no, those are Gamaran," Zaftig flushed. "The Gamarans provide Ulnythia with wine, music and art. They have made a livelihood out of parties and pleasure."

"Sounds like my kind of place," Andie smirked. She made sure to beam at Reed so he could frown at her. "You could use a little pleasure yourself, pal," she nudged him with her elbow. "It might wipe that sour look off your face."

"Are you offering?" he bit out acerbically.

"I'm not the expert," she teased. "They are." She pointed at the far end of the room where a group of people had entered. They had dark hair and dark eyes and red mouths that matched their red togas and every step was just a silent invitation to come hither. She was surprised by the spark of interest that crept into his eyes for a moment before she forced her concentration away from his reactions, which were none of her business. "What about the Oramans? What is their deal?"

"Government and _gort_ herding," Zaftig announced shortly.

"_Gort_ herding?" Andie boggled at the thought of the self-absorbed Areyu looking after a herd of livestock.

"The Oramans have won the Honors of the Games for so many years in a row that they have built their entire society around governing and creating more Players for the Games," Zaftig told them. "They have magnificent herds of _Gort_ and other creatures, but herding has fallen out of favor for political partisanship." Zaftig looked up suddenly. "The stole you wear was made from Gort fleece. It is weather-proof and easy to keep clean." The last was offered earnestly as if to make up for her momentary displeasure of before.

"Excuse me, Doctor!" The harried looking man who had commanded the athletes to remove their clothing rushed to their sides. "Amandrez had a significant injury to his shoulder before leaving for their private training session. It's gone! I demand an explanation!" He stood before Reed and heaved air in and out of his lungs.

Reed smiled slowly and looked to the doctor.

"It's a calcium bone paste," Andie supplied.

The harried man looked around in annoyance. "I am speaking with the doctor!" he told her in no uncertain terms.

"No, you're speaking to my security agent," Andie guaranteed him sweetly. Malcolm had a pretty good guess that if the room was darker the sports medic might find her mood to be something other than sweet.

The harried man looked confused, darting his eyes between the human male and the human female. "I don't understand," he announced.

"Well, you keep thinking really hard and I'm sure it'll come to you eventually," Andie assured him.

Malcolm choked back a little smirk. "Doctor Andie is the physician aboard our vessel," he interjected. "She treated the injuries of the Oramans."

The harried medic continued to look confused so Andie jumped in with a sigh. "It's a calcium bone paste. A simple addition to the crack or break can partially mend the damage, but when properly treated, it will eventually become part of the bone and there will be no indication that there was ever any damage at all."

"We use a synthetic polymer to fill in the cracks," broke in a Khineran medic standing nearby. She held a blue substance in her hand that jiggled and wiggled with her movements. She turned her hand upside down and the material dripped slowly, stretching out to the ground before the woman turned her hand again and the blue goo snapped back up and around her hand. "It stays malleable until applied, then it solidifies."

"I saw evidence of that in his wound," Andie started to move away, still talking with both physicians. "It never becomes part of the body. How do you prevent infection from wiping out the internal system?"

Malcolm was left alone with Zaftig. He was at a loss for conversation until a new group of players entered the large room and took their place. "Who are they?"

Zaftig noticed the group of sullen athletes enter quietly and without much of the fanfare that followed the others. "That is the Duarthan Province. Their ancient world suffered most greatly from the wars of our past. The surface was uninhabitable and they sought shelter underground. In a serendipitous discovery they found the soil was rich in minerals and gemstones and other resources. Once the surface was declared fit for life, they began to move their work above ground, discovering their skill with farming, as well as mining and seismology. They are accomplished jewelers."

"They look angry," Reed noted, wondering if they were considering starting some trouble and wishing he had a phase pistol.

"They always look angry," Zaftig acknowledged. "And finally, the Yaochet," she nodded at the seventh group. They were tall and willowy, like the Oramans, Khinerans and Aquarans, standing almost a head taller than the Gamarans, Duarthans or even the Zitherans. Their skin was pale. Their hair was like straw hanging down their backs. Except for the deep golden hue of their eyes, they might have been albinos. "In the Yaochet Province, the wind never stops blowing. It is said that the constant movement of air has scattered their brains," Zaftig playfully informed him, "But nobody ever says that to their faces," she added hastily.

"What are their main products?" Malcolm inquired.

"They have mastered the wind," Zaftig stated as though it should have been obvious. "They have harnessed its usage into power generators and are the main builders of our shipping fleet."

Loud voices interrupted their discussion which had petered out after Malcolm could think of no other questions to ask about something other than security protocols.

"You cannot aid the Khineran medics!" Areyu protested. "You are with Orama!"

"Honey, I'm mostly human and I can help anybody I want!" Andie countered. "Medical knowledge is freely shared among my people and I don't see what the trouble is."

"Blast that woman," Malcolm muttered, moving closer to see what happened.

"It's hardly a state secret," Andie added defiantly.

"Yet you will refrain from assisting my enemies," Areyu pointed out.

"They're your countrymen," Andie noted perversely. "And I will offer medical aid to anyone who asks for it!" Areyu started to protest again, but Andie held up a finger. "But to set your mind at ease, I will only dispense medical advice on my ship where I am in charge of the medical ward."

Areyu looked like he wanted to protest further. Oramans had lined up behind him and looked prepared to take on the Khineran delegation standing on the other side of Andie. The Khineran medic with whom Andie had been speaking stood by and watched the interplay thoughtfully. "That is most generous of you, Doctor," Areyu conceded. His teammates settled back as though they had never intended any harm at all.

"I will convey your offer to my kin," the Khineran medic smirked pleasantly. "I'm sure you will have many patients to treat in no time at all."

"Sounds like I'll be busy," Andie acknowledged. She looked at Areyu. "If I'm no longer needed to confer with your physicians, I'd like to return to my ship now."

"That can be arranged," Amandrez growled from the background.

If Malcolm didn't know better, he'd say that the angry player sounded all too pleased.

"I will call for your shuttle," Zaftig offered, appearing as if out of nowhere at the first sign that she might be useful. She scurried off, letting Andie smile and bid farewell to a few of the people she had met, before breezing past Malcolm in the direction of the door. Malcolm nodded curtly at Areyu before following her. Watching her talk her way around the large man had gone a long way to setting his mind at ease about allowing the woman to spend so much time with him. She seemed inclined to handle herself quite well.

There was nothing to worry about. Except the possibility of an entire civilization suddenly turning up in _Enterprise's_ airlock looking for medical aid from that same woman. The security concerns that immediately popped into his head gave him a headache and those were just the beginning.

* * *

_Ulnythian Landing Pad_

That headache was just intensifying. Areyu had slipped away from his people to escort them to another landing pad, using the time to try and explain to the stubborn woman what she had done wrong. Andie wasn't giving him an inch, but Reed felt like a hostage who couldn't get away from the bickering. The shouting crowds weren't helping, but at least they faded into the distance as the trio climbed onto the landing pad and out of their sight.

"But you are with Orama now," Areyu argued, as the Starfleet shuttle drifted down out of the sky over their heads. "You cannot treat the Khineran delegation."

"I am a doctor. I fix whoever has pain, irregardless of race, color, creed, religion or sexual preference," Andie retorted.

"That is most admirable, Doctor, but completely out of place at the Games," Areyu finished. He smiled indulgently and reached out to touch her nose. "You are very kind."

Andie looked at his finger with cautious distaste. When it seemed he would do no more than touch her face, she relaxed slightly. "Thank you," she accepted politely. "Thank you for the escort as well. I had a lovely time watching all your medical exams."

"Did you see anything in particular you liked?" Areyu asked with a smile that was too warm for the company in hearing distance.

Doctor Andie nodded vigorously. "I'm particularly fascinated by the Khineran suture. Do you think I could get a copy of their specs?"

Areyu looked puzzled now. "You were trying to get closer to their medical knowledge?"

"What else would I be doing?" she asked innocently. Shuttlepod One landed lightly and the hatch was opened by Ensign Mayweather who looked excited to be this close to an alien world. "Good luck on your games, Player," she grinned politely before stepping quickly inside the small craft. She took the seat just behind the pilot, leaving Malcolm to murmur another farewell before settling on a bench at the rear of the ship.

"Did you have a nice time?" Mayweather inquired as they lifted off. He was disappointed that he had been unable to see more than their landing pad.

"Sure," Andie grunted, stretching her arms out and yawning widely.

"How are the security conditions, Lieutenant?" The question was more than just and idle curiosity; rumor had it that the crew might be able to take in some of the sights if the security chief deemed it secure. After Amandrez's numerous attempts to romance the women on board with or without their permission it had seemed completely unlikely, but now Malcolm seemed less tense than he had been, and it was possible he had changed his mind.

"Champion City is extremely well guarded," Reed replied. "Nobody gets into the city without a search, there are guards on every corner and doors to the most populated attractions are fitted with anti-weapon sensor technology." He leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. "I could hardly do better myself."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it." Mayweather seemed quite pleased with the results. "You and Areyu seemed quite cozy," he noted over his shoulder at the doctor.

"He's a sweetie," Andie agreed absently as though she hadn't given one thought or another about his appeal. "He does have a weird habit of trying to put a finger up my nose though. I don't know what that's about."

Malcolm bit the inside of his cheek to prevent a chortle from breaking free. "Perhaps it's just a cultural difference," he suggested. It was amazing how quickly his headache dissipated. He chalked it up to the relative silence compared to the Ulnythian planet.

"I guess," she sighed. The sky outside the windows was changing; the clear blue summer daylight was giving way to the darker hues of outer space. "Hey, Travis, what are you going to be when you grow up?"

There was very little in the way of traffic at this point so Travis took the time to spin his chair around and look directly at the doctor as he boggled, "Excuse me?"

"Most young Starfleet ensigns have plans to become a captain. But if you want to be one of them and command a starship you'll have to change your discipline. Nobody ever made captain by doing nothing more than flying the ship. The most likely candidates are Engineering or Security. As a pilot, Engineering may be the more likely choice, but your medical records indicate several injuries that were inflicted while you helped maintain order so Security isn't out of the question. But if you choose to transfer to Security, you'll need to have an advanced first aid course on your résumé. Of course, even if you choose Engineering, having the first aid course under your belt can only help your chances. Either way you probably shouldn't wait until the last minute to try and fit something like that in. It speaks highly of your motivation to take the initiative."

Her train of thought wandered around in circles until it finally trailed off with the air of having reached a destination. Both men were trying to figure out where the current conversation had come from; it seemed to leap up out of nowhere, but the doctor seemed quite content to chatter away.

"You know, I've been working with Crewman Cutler on some medical issues. We're going to meet in the Observation Lounge after lunch. You should sit in with us. I'm sure you'll find it educational."

Mayweather was still puzzled about the current track of conversation as the vessel was secured by the docking arm and pulled up into the Shuttle Bay. "Sure, I'll think about it," he answered hesitantly.

"Okay then," she responded cheerily. She was the first to rise and push the hatch open, slipping out with a nimble grace, leaving the lieutenant and the ensign to stare at one another in confusion.

"You're welcome to sit in on the security department training sessions," Malcolm offered.

"Can I eat lunch first?" Travis asked, feeling his stomach growl. "I didn't know I'd have to decide my whole future on an empty stomach."

For the first time in what felt like weeks, Malcolm permitted himself a small laugh. "I'll be happy to escort you to the Mess Hall if you'd like," he offered. The morning was already looking more were a few other things he'd definitely get done today.

"Just as long as you don't do it in restraints," Travis teased. They exited the ship and moved off together.


	6. Chapter 6

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 6

* * *

_Captain's Quarters_

_Afternoon_

Jon Archer's current predicament gave a whole new meaning to the word 'hell.' He had always been an athletic man, capable of participating in a number of sports, on land or on sea. Hell, he even tried skydiving once or twice and that definitely counted the air too! For a while there he couldn't see anything worse than being deprived of his ability to walk or run or play games or captain a starship. But he was learning that there were much worse things than were dreamt of in his philosophy.

A sponge bath administered by the new doctor, for instance, was a completely new level of miserable. She didn't speak much during this daily ritual, and kept most of her comments to medical jargon but that didn't soothe his humiliation much. There was something about having somebody else wash parts of him that nobody but his most intimate friends and lovers had seen that made him feel like less of a man, let alone a captain. He would throw her out of the room and insist on doing what he could for himself were it not for one small problem.

The constant stillness was going to drive him batty.

Either Chang or Romero would check in via the comlink to confirm that he was fine every hour on the hour. T'Pol stopped by at least three times a day and sent messages to his computer regularly, but she seemed more withdrawn lately. Tucker still stopped by, usually in the morning after breakfast and again in the evening right after dinner, if he had time. So he wasn't entirely alone. Still, there were too many hours with nothing left to do except catalog all the things he would never get to enjoy again. Anything different that broke up the monotony of drawing imaginary lines connecting the star field outside his window was something to be enjoyed, even if it was just a medical exam from a woman who made him want to tear his hair out by the roots.

He was bored. Bored. Bored. Bored. The word just kept flicking through his thoughts in tempo with his heart rate. He'd counted all the ceiling tiles. He'd finished his soggy book. He'd even managed to clean his beagle's ears with a cotton sponge. He was exhausted by his lack of anything important to accomplish. Frankly he was desperate for anything to happen that might take his mind off the constant stillness in his room.

At the same time he was decrying his isolation, he was also aware that he could stop his self-imposed exile and be stimulated by the company of people once again if he chose. He just couldn't bring himself to be seen in his current condition. His people _expected_ to see him walking the corridors. They _expected_ to see him striding around the bridge. In his current state he was an object to be pitied and he decided that he had a small measure of uncrushed soul left that would not allow him to be shamed by their compassion. Until he finally received that long-awaited and dreaded call from Starfleet Command naming his replacement, he was stuck here, and here in his room he would stay, far away from any pitying eyes.

_Like his father before he passed; he was just a shell of his former self and it pained Jon to see his dad so small and so different. _The idea of becoming like that terrified him more than anything else.

Another memory to put him in a foul mood, he decided. He had to do something to break up the stillness or he was really going to head straight for the belfry with his battiness. "You're distracted today," Jon broke into the doctor's concentration, trying to ignore the throb in his lower back that seemed to be the lowest point he could feel. She had finished with his bath and was running tests and scans of his lower extremities, and massaging the muscles and tissues in an attempt to keep the muscles from atrophy. But even though he had been grateful for her lack of conversation on other days, he couldn't really bear the silence anymore.

"Sorry," she murmured. Her mind was definitely wandering, she noted. Mentally reviewing every text she could think of, she was wracking her brain for a way to repair the damage done to his spine, while at the same time, she was trying not to remember the way that Reed's hand had felt at the small of her back as he escorted her through town. He was just doing his duty, she reminded her self. _Speaking of duties_, her brain reminded her. _You're in the middle of one!_ She picked up the other leg and worked through a few movements to keep bed sores from forming, trying to remember where the conversation had left off so she could pick it up again, but unfortunately she was lost.

"Did you have fun on the planet?" he prompted her. He tried to keep the bitter tinge of jealousy out of his voice that she got to go and he had to stay. _Well, he kind of chose to stay_, he conceded in his head. His head also told him to mind his own business.

Andie jerked her gaze to his face. It shouldn't have surprised her that he knew; Trip had probably been the one who kept him informed, even if she was pretty certain that Tucker's reasons would mostly likely have been protests about spending too much time with _those_ men. It didn't matter. Clearly the engineer's protests about her choice in company hadn't done any good.

"I'm glad my task of looking after the Ulnythians is over," she answered honestly.

"You don't like them?" he queried, fighting his curiosity. Trip told him that the doctor had been spending a lot of time with them. But T'Pol had indicated that it was at Areyu's request. However Tucker reported that Andie was an enthusiastic participant. It was enough to drive one around the bend.

"I like them fine," she replied. "They remind me of undisciplined pups. They don't like to be cooped up but if you give 'em room to run, they are a real hoot to watch."

Porthos lifted his head from his pillow and wagged his tail. The doctor noticed the movement and made kissing noises in his direction, to the disgust of the human male. When no further mentions of him were made, the beagle put his head back down. He didn't seem happy that he was not the pup to which they referred.

"There was one that caused problems?"

"Yeah," Andie sighed. She pursed her lips. "Amandrez seems very happy to be home." She didn't seem inclined to say any more about him.

The doorbell chimed and Andie automatically called out. "Come in!"

"It's my room you know," Jon protested listlessly, turning his head away.

"Yes, it is," Andie acknowledged calmly.

"It is good to find you here," T'Pol addressed the doctor after nodding to the captain. "I need to speak with you."

"Now?" Andie asked incredulously, inclining her head toward Archer to indicate that their words were monitored, as though that had escaped the first officer's attention.

"Now is sufficient," T'Pol noted and Andie relaxed a bit. "Areyu has sent a formal request that you attend the reception this evening and the opening ceremonies tomorrow as his guest."

"He already asked," Andie nodded. "I said no." She gestured to T'Pol to assist her in turning the captain over so that she might check his wound.

"May I ask why?" The Vulcan queried, trying to breathe through her mouth. Even Archer smelled too strongly of soap and skin, despite her neural agent. Even more disturbing than the odor was the knowledge that the heavy scent was not entirely unwelcome. _He was her _captain_, for Surak's sake!_

"I see no reason to lead him on," Andie shrugged. "I kept him busy for several days and now he's occupied with his games and we'll be leaving soon, so I..."

"What makes you think we will be leaving soon?"

Andie looked surprised. "I just assumed."

"The Bridge will be habitable by evening, but I intend to spend some time running diagnostics on those consoles and programs before taking the ship back out into space. The Ulnythians have offered us shore leave in order to repay our kindness to them."

Jon was rolled back to his former position as the doctor kept talking with the commander. "Tucker has already accused me of whoring myself out for spare parts," Andie snorted. "I don't think I should press my luck."

T'Pol frowned. She stepped back and pressed the button on the wall. _"Commander T'Pol to Commander Tucker: Please report to the Captain's Quarters immediately." _She caught Andie's curious gaze and lifted an imperious eyebrow.

"This is my room," Archer grumbled, slightly louder. "You can't just go around inviting people in."

"You are so sweet to include us," Andie assured him with saccharine sweetness that made his teeth clench. She even squeezed his toe through the blanket as a familiar gesture, but it just made him grit his teeth harder. He was afraid he might crack a tooth, and then he'd have to add 'unable to eat solid foods' to his list of things he couldn't do anymore.

The door opened and Commander Tucker stumbled through the door, nearly bowling over T'Pol in the process. His eyes darted around frantically and he exhaled loudly when he found the captain looking at him sullenly. "_What the hell_, T'Pol?" he demanded. "Don't scare me like that! I thought there was a serious problem with the captain!"

"Did you call the doctor a whore?" T'Pol inquired without missing a beat.

"What?" He repeated in confusion.

"Yes," Andie nodded with serene certainty. "Yes, he did." Despite her serious tone, she had a twinkle in her eye.

"No," He corrected her dourly. "Whoring was your word, not mine. I was just worried about you getting in over your head with Areyu."

"I can handle Areyu," Andie retorted dryly.

"You can't curry favors for your own gain," Captain Archer interjected. "It's against regulations."

"Thank you! That's what I said!" Tucker pointed triumphantly to the man for backing him up.

"You haven't curried favors for profit, have you?" T'Pol questioned the doctor.

"No!" Andie shouted indignantly. "I haven't profited from anything!"

"_Lieutenant Reed to Commander T'Pol!"_ The speaker blared in the room.

"Come in!" Andie called out.

The door opened.

"This is my room!" Archer hissed.

"And it's a good one," Andie assured him absently as she looked at Reed who stepped inside but refused to come all the way in. She waited for his reaction to a scene he had not yet witnessed.

"A package just arrived for the Doctor," Reed explained. Nervously he snuck glances of Archer out of the corner of his eye. "Good afternoon, sir. Player Areyu sent you a gift." He directed the last toward the doctor.

Both Tucker and T'Pol turned their accusing gaze on Andie at the mention of a gift. So did Archer, although he seemed more surprised than critical. Reed tried to keep his expression neutral even though he was seething inside. Tucker had inadvertently suggested something like this the other day; it would seem to be true. The doctor was playing up to the alien for profit.

Andie glared back at them all; she could see they reached the same wrong conclusion. "You can all just shut up," she told the room grumpily. Still glaring, she snatched the box from Reed and flipped open the lid. Once she got an eyeful of the clothing that Areyu was hoping she would wear to the Games, she groaned. "He has _got_ to be _kidding_!"

The first item she withdrew and held up for consideration looked like a shiny slingshot. Rearranging it she decided it was actually a pair of sparkly gold underpants. "I don't have to wear this, do I?" she asked in disbelief.

"It would be wrong to refuse a gift," T'Pol pointed out. Anyone who didn't know her might miss the twinkle in her eye. She earned a dirty look from the physician.

"I can't wear this!" Andie protested with rising volume. "It's _floss_!"

"Damn right you can't wear that!" Tucker joined in. "It's indecent!" He might have to pound the first guy who looked at her in that and from the looks of that thing, _every _man would be looking!

Malcolm had no problem adding his own objection. "It would show off everything!" His brain helpfully supplied a visual, which he tried to discard. Unfortunately the mental picture lingered too long.

Andie looked at the pair with a barely concealed eye roll. "'Everthing's' not the problem. My 'everything' is excellent," she assured them with a nod. "I would look fabulous!" She frowned at the underpants again. "But can you imagine all the places I would sunburn wearing this?"

"What?" Tucker and Reed boggled in perfect synch.

"Sunburn is your biggest complaint?" Tucker burst out in irritation.

"This is my damn room!" Archer broke in suddenly, using his arms to push his body off the mattress so he could be more intimidating. "If you want to hold a meeting, go to the Conference Room! Get out of my quarters!"

Andie dropped the underpants back in the box on top of the silky green pants and tunic that had accompanied the undergarment, and which was out of the line of sight of the other two men. "You're bossy," she sniffed in the captain's direction.

"I'm the....!" All ears were pinned on his next choice of words, hoping desperately to hear his declaration of his command authority. They were disappointed. "I'm the patient," Jon finished sullenly. "And I need my rest."

Four sets of shoulders sagged in response. "Perhaps we should let the captain continue his recuperation," T'Pol suggested, exchanging a look with the doctor as the men cleared out.

"So you really think I ought to wear that...that...thing...and spend more time with Areyu?" Andie asked as she gathered up her satchel and the box, before stepping toward the door.

"As the acting captain it is my duty to see that the ship has everything that is required," T'Pol agreed, exiting behind the doctor and leaving the captain lying on his bed.

His chest rose and fell with the recent excitements. A few moments ago Jon was so bored he was willing to risk conversation with the doctor, but now he had a new platter of thoughts to pore over. He couldn't wipe the image out of his head of the Vulcan selling off Andie for spare parts. "You have got to be kidding me!" he hissed into the quiet. "They have got to be out of their minds!"

Actually that might be related to the truth of the matter. Their conversation had piqued his interest. In spite of his best intentions to remain outside the command structure, their last conversation tempted him to consider the problems on his ship that were not occurring inside his room. No, they were conspiring to get him to care about this situation when it was outside of his control. _But they were doing it wrong,_ his brain noted. _But it was their choice to do it_, he added silently. _He wasn't going to be drawn into their trap. He was just going to sit here in his too quiet room and not think about them at all._

He was tempted to pick up the Comm., but at the last moment he didn't. He just lay there all afternoon, thinking about what was going on outside that door without him while he seethed with boredom.

* * *

_Corridor: B Deck_

"Don't you think you were a little hard on him?" Tucker demanded once the foursome stood in the hallway.

"I wasn't hard on him," Andie refuted with an irritating calmness. "I was a bit snide. There's a big difference."

"Well do you really think you should be snide to a man under your care?" Trip demanded.

"For once he was actually interested in the conversation at hand," Andie pointed out. "Tell me, when was the last time you saw him concerned about anything you said to him? We should hold all our meetings in his quarters! Or maybe we should run a feed to the Conference Room! You think that would be hard?"

"It wouldn't be too difficult," Malcolm interjected quietly. He didn't know which had taken precedence in his mind: the way the captain was surly and bedridden, or the fact that Andie might wear that little bit of nothing next to the Adonis they'd befriended.

"Maybe I'll suggest a live Mess Hall camera feed when we dine this evening," Andie nodded as though the matter was settled.

"You cannot dine with the Captain," T'Pol reminded her. "You are already engaged to attend the Ulnythian reception with Areyu."

Andie looked surprised. "You were serious about that?"

"Yes, Doctor," T'Pol's lip pressed into a thin line. "I expect you to comply."

The physician chewed on her lip for a moment before her face relaxed into a tight smile. "Well, put on your dancing shoes! You're going with me!"

"I do not have dancing shoes," the Vulcan remarked.

"Well, wear whatever footwear you like, but you are definitely going to that reception with me!" Andie wore her most obstinate look.

T'Pol sighed. "I will attend the reception only if it is agreeable to the Oraman delegation."

"_No problemo_! I know a guy," Andie beamed. "I'm sure he'd be happy to help!" For once Areyu was going to be useful!

"I'll see that the captain gets his dinner," Tucker sighed before Reed could offer. He leaned forward to press the button to summon the turbo-lift. "He shouldn't have to eat alone."

"_Ensign Mazaro to Lieutenant Reed_," the voice crackled over the com.

Reed stepped forward to touch the panel on the wall. "Lieutenant Reed, go ahead," he replied.

"_There's a ship requesting permission to dock at the starboard airlock, sir. They say they've got supplies and things for the ship. Commander T'Pol said that all guests coming from the planet must check in with you before coming aboard. And one of them needs medical attention from Dr. Andie."_

Reed heard Andie sigh behind him. At his questioning look, she merely nodded. He pressed the com again. "We're on our way." He turned back to her. "Did you request supplies from the Ulnythians this morning?"

"I didn't ask for anything," she told him. His face scrunched up as though weighing the veracity of her statement. She was still clutching her gift box, and that made it harder to believe. The lift door opened and all four stepped inside.

"Hey, have you seen my cats? They weren't in my quarters earlier."

Malcolm wound up standing right behind Andie and he could smell the scent of her shampoo in his nose. "I haven't seen them," he murmured, inhaling deeply. He thought he caught T'Pol looking at him oddly and he made an effort to hold his breath for the duration of the ride.

"I have not seen your cats," T'Pol intoned quietly. She turned her eyes from Reed's sudden increased heart rate, pounding like drums in ears suddenly sensitive enough to hear it, and kept her attention to the front. That meant that she was looking at the small patch of bare skin on the neck of the engineer in front of her.

"Jojo was in Engineering this morning," Tucker supplied. "She took off when the noise started in earnest though." He didn't have to turn around; he could feel dark brown eyes boring into the back of his head.

The turbo-lift ride took forever. They were all grateful for the space the corridor allowed them when the doors opened.

* * *

_MACO gym, F Deck_

_Later that afternoon_

Andie felt like she'd been running from one appointment to another all day. Luckily, Cutler had been amused when Andie slid into a seat at the table in the Observation Lounge, setting aside her book with a grin. "Only ten minutes late," she'd teased. "I'm glad I had the Bard here to keep me company." She'd continued smirking when Mayweather shuffled in the door looking like he might get kicked out at any moment. But Cutler had been gracious, encouraging him to stay and the trio had covered some of the basic requirements of first aid, along with an outline of human physiology.

They were just wrapping up when a pair of ladies had entered the room and in the corridor behind them two MACO's passed by with something small, furry and orange in their arms. Andie had snatched up her pads and raced out the door. She followed their progress to the MACO gym and pressed the button, but the door wouldn't open. Even her scanner told her that there were people inside. There were six people and one feline to be precise. She pounded the door with her fist while jabbing the button on the wall panel. "Hey! I'm looking for Leon! Have you seen my..."

The door opened suddenly.

"...cat!" she finished bellowing. She could see several marines loitering in the room. They weren't in their usual exercise clothing so it wasn't a practice they were having, but her path into the room was blocked by one male in particular.

"I'm sorry, Doc," Chang apologized solemnly. "You can't come in." He stretched his arm across the barrier and obstructed the open space with his body.

"We're performing secret MACO rituals! No girls allowed!" Woods shouted with glee from inside the room. He didn't sound solemn so they weren't having some kind of meeting.

Gina Parsons elbowed him in the stomach. "What am I? Chopped liver?" she grunted good-naturedly.

"I'm looking for Leon," Andie tried again to push past Chang but he wasn't allowing it. He refused as gently as possible.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. He's busy."

"Busy? Doing what?" She got a look past the man and into the room and screeched like a howler monkey. "You can't conscript him! He's my _cat_!" Leon was wearing a very tiny black vest, complete with a private's stripe. He looked perfectly happy except for his annoyance at the disturbance.

"He performed valuable services to protect his ship and serve his crew during times of desperate need," Woods pointed out with a cheeky grin. Napoleon had held off a ravening horde of space frogs and defended his feline life-mate while the humans were off the ship. He still bore faint traces of his battles in the form of scars on one side of his thin body, which was nearly covered by the teeny military vest he wore. "I think that deserves a field promotion."

"It took forever for the quartermaster to sew up a flak vest in his size," Parsons muttered.

"Look, I don't know what you monkeys are up to but I'm his...he's my..._let go of my cat!"_ Andie fumed. The nerve of them, taking this action without asking her first! What the hell were they thinking? Maybe they were cracking up; perhaps shore leave was a good idea for they were clearly stressed to the point of breaking if they were inducting her cat into their military society!

Chang gently but forcefully pushed her outside. "I'm sorry, ma'am. Marines only." He shut the door. "Don't you have a reception to get ready for?"

"You have too much time on your hands! I can fix that!" Andie kicked the door but they wouldn't open it again. "He better not come back with a tattoo!" she finished, annoyed at the futility. "And stop calling me 'ma'am'!"

* * *

_Ulnythian Reception Hall_

_After dinner_

It was a big room stuffed to the gills and the overall effect was just too much. There were too many lights, all shining directly into her eyes. There were too many colors, particularly green, blinding her from every side. There were too many people, closing in all around her. There were too many sights and too many smells and too many sounds closing off the air around her. For a moment, the room swirled around her and she felt as though she was falling into a deep green sea and drowning.

Hands reached out to take her by the arm. Arms appeared, slipping around her waist and directing her feet to move. Suddenly the air was fresh, the lights were dimmed and the sounds had faded away. The view from the balcony was spectacular, but the woman in distress barely paid it any attention at all. T'Pol gulped deep breaths of air, feeling her pulse slow to somewhere near normal.

"Is there anything else you require?" The voice was very polite, but still it startled her. She didn't realize her savior had remained.

"I would like to speak with my doctor," the Vulcan announced, hating the way their pale eyes crawled over her weak flesh. She drew another breath and when the sensation passed, she could acknowledge that the Zitherans' eyes did not crawl but merely watched carefully. One of the lavender-garbed aliens nodded and backed away, back into the mess that was the reception hall, while the other remained ever vigilant and ready to serve.

"Is there anything else you need?" the Zitheran asked again.

"What I want, you cannot procure," T'Pol stated, more or less calmly. She fought to remember why she had put herself in this position in the first place. If Captain Archer was to remain captain, he would have to get back on his feet. If Starfleet Command discovered his infirmity, he would be removed and the distress of that might damage more than his body. She was suffering so that he might have the gift of time. _If the doctor would just hurry up with a cure…_although when the doctor might have the time when T'Pol kept giving in to the requests of these Ulnythians was beyond her best estimate.

Andie appeared through the green curtains in a heartbeat, and T'Pol found she was grateful to pull her dark gaze from the violet eyes of the alien servant. Without undue conversation, Andie ran a quick scan and loaded a hypo from the satchel she carried with her; in deference to the event, she had packed a few medical items into a sequined bag rather than her canvas satchel and T'Pol had never been more grateful for the doctor's stubborn insistence on maintaining her case. A quick hiss against her skin and soon the feeling of being swallowed just drifted away.

"A small panic attack," Andie murmured in the Vulcan's ear.

"I don't panic!" T'Pol insisted. "Panic is illogical!"

"Really?" Andie replied calmly. "If you can harness it, sometimes it'll keep you alive when common sense wouldn't." She finished repacking her kit and nodded at both the Zitherans nearby. "Please inform our companions that the hour grows late. They are to make their way to our shuttle"

"We are not leaving because of me," T'Pol gritted out the words through a fog, probably due to the medicine. "I am fine."

"Your condition is not the reason. It is merely serendipitous," Andie soothed her. To the lavender-garbed aliens she nodded. "If you will please escort her to the pod, I'll speak with Areyu myself."

"You are not in charge!" T'Pol tossed the words out but the doctor had already disappeared behind the curtains and was lost in the crowd.

One of the Zitherans slipped an arm around her waist. "May I assist…?"

"Don't touch me!" T'Pol objected, pushing her aid away. She nearly fell over when she tried to stand on her own two feet, no doubt due to that hypo-spray. Surely it had nothing to do with the heightened state of all her senses, running on overload so that a room full of people could have overwhelmed her so completely that she had to be removed!

The Zitherans exchanged a look and one of them disappeared again.

T'Pol drew in a deep breath. "I just need to get my bearings," she said as a way of apologizing.

Her companion remained silent until a tall man pushed through the curtains and joined the pair on the balcony. He had eyes like the Vulcan Forge, hot and pale at the same time. His hair was too long, falling past his shoulders in a smooth sheaf of moonlight. His skin was almost entirely devoid of color and he darn near glowed in the lights of the city. "Git!" he hissed at the purple-clad helpers, and they scattered without a word. "I'll take it from here."

"This is unnecessary," T'Pol protested. She was feeling embarrassed to be so much trouble when all she wanted was to sit on the cool, dark balcony and center her thoughts.

"No need for those little buggers to lurk around," the man said in a voice that held a small lilt of accent. He extended his hand to help her upright and she found herself accepting his aid although she did not intend to do so. His skin was smooth and dry but his hand was strong. When she was upright, she found he was standing too close to her and she imagined she could smell the desert sand rustling under a hot, red sky. He smelled like home; that was why she allowed him to offer an arm, to lead her back through the noisy, colorful crush. He kept up an easy dialogue about how terrible all this luxury was and how much better was it to be on the high plains of his province in summer, surrounded by the simple joys of hearth and home. They passed a waiter with a tray full of something that, for once, didn't turn her stomach. It smelled delicious.

So did her guide.

With a start, she realized they had arrived. It was too early for the party to end so there were few people loitering around the landing pad. Ensign Sato had just settled into the shuttle pod, pulling her green _pashmina_ around her shoulders. Ensign Mayweather scampered up from behind, holding a large orb of fruit in his hands, which had a significant bite taken out of it, and tell-tale signs of red juice around the edges of his mouth. The fruit disappeared in seconds and he wiped his hands on his uniform pants before taking the controls.

"Thank you for your kindness," Andie's voice drifted through the air as she swept closer like a ship under full sail. "We appreciate your assistance." She offered a courteous nod to the pale man and slipped an arm around T'Pol's waist, urging the woman into the shuttle, away from the one who stood too closely. "Say good-night, T'Pol," she commanded, pushing the Vulcan inside the ship, like a good chaperone.

"Good-night," T'Pol muttered as she took her seat just behind the navigator.

The man was not easily deterred. "I am Yhen of Yaochet," he told her with a smile. "It was my pleasure to assist you. Call on me if you require further assistance." He withdrew his head and closed the door tightly.

There was surprised silence for just a moment among the foursome.

"He seemed nice," Hoshi suggested with raised eyebrows.

"Yes, he did." Andie fought the smirk that threatened to cut loose. She rubbed the bridge of her nose, hoping to dispel the sudden headache that attacked. "Didn't they all?"

"Take us home, Mr. Mayweather," T'Pol intoned evenly.

"Aye, Commander," Travis agreed. For a moment he had thought that guy was going to come along, but now it looked like he just wanted a quick view of their shuttle. The navigator didn't think anything more of it as he took the pod into the sky.

T'Pol leaned her head back and tried to remember exactly how he smelled with her eyes closed.

The pair of women in the back traded glances, but communed only with their eyebrows. T'Pol was acting a bit strangely but nothing so far out of the ordinary that action should be taken. The entire Ulnythian population seemed happy to pay homage to the humans for bringing their prized team home in time to play. Perhaps it was nothing more than gratitude that had brought Yhen of Yaochet to their shuttle pod. That didn't stop Andie from puzzling over it in silence, even as she pulled out a data pad and made a few notations.

* * *

_Armory_

_Late Night_

Trip Tucker stuck his head in the door of the narrow, cramped space that the lieutenant used as his office. "Have you seen the Doc?" he inquired curiously.

"I thought she was at the reception," Malcolm sighed, leaning back from the screen he perused so intently. He knew it was tilted the wrong way for someone poking their head in to read what was on it, but he kept a careful eye on Tucker anyway.

"She was, but I know Hoshi and Travis returned and I thought you might have seen her." Travis had made a beeline for the engineer, talking his ear off about the plethora of new experiences he'd had. Actually Travis said something during the long litany of sights he'd seen that had caused Trip some concern. He wanted to talk to Andie about it before he showed up at T'Pol's door asking some impertinent questions.

"Shall I start a manhunt?" Malcolm offered.

"No," Tucker sighed. "Don't worry about it." He turned to go.

"You don't suppose that Andie wore that...that...thing...do you?" Reed asked out loud.

Tucker paused. He had spent nearly all day in and out of EV suits, making final repairs to the skylight on the Bridge. He was exhausted and his neck hurt from lugging the EV pack around and all he really wanted was to climb into bed. It was possible he was worried about something that was nothing. But the thought of Andie dressed in nothing but gold floss in the midst of those overly muscled bohunks would not be considered 'nothing.' "I don't know. Sometimes with the Doc it's hard to tell." He nodded at Malcolm and withdrew his head. The longer he thought about it, the more he decided that a good night's sleep was a prerequisite for asking T'Pol if she'd been alone on a balcony with some guy at a party. He changed course and headed for bed.

Malcolm sat there a few moments longer, staring at the personnel screen in front of him. He found he was poring over the doctor's file as though it might contain the answers to all the questions he had about her. _That was a lot to ask about one little file_, he acknowledged. Whatever he couldn't find out about the doctor firsthand he might be able to fill in through other means.

He entered a new search into the computer and when he had his answer, he rose from his chair and headed out.

* * *

_Mess Hall_

_Very Late_

Hoshi looked up when a body slid into the chair on the other side of the table. She swallowed her tea and smiled.

"How was it?" Liz Cutler demanded eagerly. She had waited up just to hear all the juicy gossip. "Did you meet lots of people? Did you see anything good?"

"It was...interesting," Hoshi answered. She could still feel her cheeks warm.

Liz caught the flush of color. "How 'interesting'?" she demanded playfully.

"Well, there was wine and food," Hoshi began. "Then there was the presentation of the teams, which they do _in the nude_." She waited, knowing that would catch a reaction.

"Really?" Cornflower blue eyes were wide open.

"Really," Hoshi confirmed. "They just dropped their togas in the middle of a crowd of people with cameras and everything. No wonder they have no shame. They're inspected like race horses."

"That's kind of sad," Liz decided. "You said they presented all the teams. You saw the others?"

Hoshi smiled. She filled in what little she knew of the other teams and Provinces, ending with remarks about the Aquarans. "You'd like them. They claim to have the most diverse bug culture on the planet. It must be all the damp and water they have. They said something about offering tours; maybe you could take one while we're here."

"Are we still going ashore?" Liz queried anxiously. "I was hoping that we would but I didn't know for sure….

"Excuse me?" They looked up to find Malcolm hovering nearby. "Have you seen the Doctor?" he inquired politely.

"She disappeared as soon as we got off the shuttle," Hoshi informed him. "Have you tried the medical lab? She kept scribbling on a sheet of paper. I assumed it was work she had to finish."

"I did try the medical lab. She had just left and I thought she may have come this way," he noted. "Did you have a nice time?"

Hoshi snuck a look at Liz. "It was an eye opener," she nodded determinedly. She could tell her cheeks were red again.

"Was everyone kind to you?" he pressed further.

"Everyone was very generous," Hoshi nodded. "Areyu made sure we had the best seats and the Zitherans passed around plates of food and..."

"Amandrez didn't cause any trouble?"

Ensign Sato could tell an interrogation when she heard one, even in this was as polite and well-mannered as they came. "Amandrez left as soon as the Oraman team was presented. I didn't see him at all when we started mingling. Sir," she added for emphasis.

Malcolm flushed slightly and nodded politely to acknowledge her review.

"Do you think we'll get some shore leave while we're here?" Cutler burst out.

"I don't know, Crewman," he demurred. "I'm sure that's up to the captain and the commander." Having found the answer to his most pressing question, that Amandrez hadn't caused undue trouble without him looking over his much taller shoulder, he had run out of things to say. He murmured his good-nights and stepped out the door.

* * *

_Fabrication Shop_

_F Deck_

Malcolm wandered down the corridors, checking the reading on his scanner as he moved. He didn't need it anymore. He could hear a voice drifting through the space, absently singing a tune. Although his curiosity was drivig him mad; what was she doing down here?

"_It's never been this hot and I've never been so bored and breathing is just no fun anymore...."_

He recognized the song; it was something by Meatloaf. The ditty paused for a moment, but he doubted it was because she had forgotten the words. Something clanged lightly and a scent permeated the air of burnt rubber.

"_...saw you like a summer dream and you're the answer to every prayer that I ever said..."_

"What are you doing?" Reed inquired easily, leaning on the doorjamb.

She looked up, surprised at being found. "Nothing," she answered immediately. Wearing a heavy, fireproof apron and safety goggles, she clearly was up to something. She looked exactly like a child would look if they were discovered with their hand in the cookie jar. _If the cookie jaw was possibly radioactive,_ he snorted silently.

Malcolm Reed lifted one dark eyebrow and stared at her, intent on staring until she 'fessed up. Behind her a timer dinged and she twitched.

Dropping her shoulders when she exhaled, she shrugged. "I couldn't sleep." Putting on a pair of thick gloves, she pulled a tray out of the oven. It was filled with a blue substance. She tilted the pan in order to watch the material slide around. When she tired of that, she poked it gently with her bare finger. It was already cool enough to touch. Gathering up a handful of the substance, she let the goo dribble across her palm before turning her hand to let it run around to the back of her hand.

"It has a snot-like consistency, wouldn't you say?" she pondered curiously, letting it drib and drabble over her hand. Restlessly she wound it around and around, eventually balling it up into a small sphere.

"What is it?" Reed asked, moving closer.

Andie clamped her hand around the material and dropped it roughly on the floor. It bounced right back into her hand.

His jaw clenched. _She was making him toys!_ He had no reason to feel like he was in pain; she was a free agent who could spend time with anyone she wanted, even a self-indulgent, airhead like Areyu. "Interesting," he remarked with remarkable calm. "The Quartermaster will have your head for this mess." His tone was light and he even managed to smile, even though he worried it might break his face.

"Want to help me clean?" she offered with a winsome grin.

"Not at all," he answered quickly. Her deep sigh made him chuckle. He couldn't help it; as soon as she started dropping the ingredients back into their places, chivalry kicked in and he lent a hand. In spite of the dim lighting, he could see the redness in her eyes. "Have you been using stims?" he worried.

"Nope," she denied instantly. "I'm fine."

"Do you require any assistance?" He leaned against the counter as she dropped the last of the trays in the bin to be cleaned. When the Quartermaster saw this, he was going to have her head, assuming he could figure out whose head he needed, that is.

Ignorant of his interest, she smiled. "No, I don't sleep much anyway."

"Areyu must be keeping you busy."

"He must," Andie answered lightly. Absently she was still rolling the new rubbery ball around in the palm of one hand. "Thanks for the help. Can I reward you with a cup of tea or something?"

"No, not at this hour," he refused. Pushing off the counter, he offered her an arm. "May I escort you to your quarters?" He took a moment to admire the outfit she wore. A simple gold sheath was covered in a long, flowing green tunic. She was respectably covered from neck to knee. His eyes narrowed as he realized how she'd tormented him all afternoon by letting him think that she was dressed like a courtesan and prancing through the streets. He'd like to strangle her for that.

Andie had a less respectable image dancing in her head, involving the things he could assist her with at this hour. "I'd like that," she agreed, letting the pictures slip out of her head. This wasn't the right time or the right place, even if he agreed to any such thing. He seemed to be more companionable recently, but that didn't mean that his opinion of her couldn't change on a dime.

It would remain to be seen what the morning would bring.


	7. Chapter 7

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

_*A/N: Sorry about the delay. I had technical issues on top of internet issues and they just would not end! It required an exorcism and a purification ritual involving red roses and evocative prose, but I think I've got the bugs worked out. *crosses fingers*_

Chapter 7

* * *

_Ulnythian Planet_

_Champion City_

Four hours of sleep had done wonders for her outlook. Nightmares woke her long before dawn, but instead of going back to sleep, she went back to work. It had been extremely productive and she had convinced Archer to let her experiment on him. He had been dubious at first, but at the moment he had nothing to lose. Now she was champing at the bit to get back to her lab and continue what she had started, but her presence had been required elsewhere. Now that there was something more useful to accomplish, she had grown tired of all these games.

Standing there on the moving platform she wanted nothing more than to tear off the garment she was wearing and tell her host that she had better things to do, but in spite of her diminished enthusiasm she gritted her teeth and kept her opinions to herself. Andie Brainerd had spent her whole life in a variety of costumes, as she camouflaged herself in the local flair wherever she was, so the green and gold gown and the elaborate shoes were nothing to get worked up about, but it didn't diminish the wish that she could tear off all of this glittering frippery, throw on a pair of jeans and get back to work. At this particular moment there was nothing to be done about it but go along.

Beside her Areyu was quite pleased with the present situation. He waved enthusiastically to the crowds that lined both sides of the street as the float passed through the city, smiling brightly and generally enjoying the attention. Fans in green lined both sides of the road and screamed enthusiastically as they caught sight of him, overwhelming those few detractors favoring other players with their frantic cries of adulation. He had made a point of being right at the shuttle pod door this morning as she disembarked, unlike his business last evening when he moved freely about the room leaving her to watch him from afar. Since she had left early last evening, he had taken it upon himself to hover over her today feeding her ego with flowery speeches as they worked through the chaos involved sorting out the parade floats and ensuring the security of the Players. After profuse flattery he left her side almost as soon as he arrived to settle other details, offer greetings to fans, and confer with officials.

It was no hardship to Andie to be left alone but she wondered how the natives felt about her. To these people she was nothing but an outsider. They would prefer their favored son to select a companion a little closer to home, but they tolerated her well enough. After all she had saved him. Last night at the reception, Andie had not missed the way that Areyu took every opportunity to greet beautiful women as he was schmoozing his way through the elite of his world. With his inviting smile turned to theirs, his eyes flickered in her direction as though he was playing a role that she was meant to see. She suspected that he may have sought out these ladies for more attention after she had departed in a hurry. Possibly he saw her exit as a jealous temper because he seemed encouraged by it.

Andie harbored no illusions that Areyu was enamored of her. This was all part of the game they were playing, which was more apparent the more time she spent with him. On a world devoted to games it wasn't a surprise that they toyed with every aspect of their lives as they did with their government. The tall blond spoke all the right words of devotion but his eyes told a different tale. He liked the pageantry. He liked the adoration. He was anxious for the Games to begin, and he liked her by his side, but his affection was a surface adornment, much like the fancy clothes she was wearing.

Out of the corner of her eyes she saw a flash of blue darting through the emerald crowds. Reed was trying to keep pace on foot but was getting buffeted by the thick barricade of bodies on the sidelines. He was getting run ragged trying to keep her out of Areyu's clutches; if only there was something she could say to make him understand that she had nothing to fear from Areyu. It was all just a flamboyant game.

For his part Malcolm Reed was doing his utmost to keep pace with the woman. A thousand apologies streamed behind him like a wake from a boat cutting through a turbulent sea as he pushed his way through the crowds. She was going to wear herself out dancing attendance on this muscled mascot, and he was determined that someone would be there to help her out when she collapsed. Although at the moment he was the one in danger of breakdown. He was losing ground as the parade grew closer to the Oraman Sector of the city. The crowds were thicker and she was leaving him behind. The very thought caused his guts to clench tight and he doubled his efforts to cut through the solid wall of skin in order to keep her in his sights.

On the floating barge Areyu was unaware of the human security escort trying his best to keep up. His plans were falling into place. All he had to do was convince Andie that she could be happy here for a lifetime and then he could be assured that Orama would remain in the upper echelon of the competition. "My people, they love you," Areyu had to shout to be heard although he stood so close at her side that she could feel the hairs on his arms. He had been amused when she tried to purchase a large amount of candy from a vendor, for nobody who played in the Games ever paid for anything; items were freely given to them by any and everyone. He was even more amused when she tossed the small wrapped sweets to the children standing on the sidelines. The first children had ducked out of the way, assuming they were under attack. It took some time to realize that they were being rewarded but now they crowded around the Oraman float with shouting voices and outstretched hands.

"I like kids," Andie shrugged. She tossed another goodie to a young girl standing at the back of the sweet-toothed mob.

"More than the kids," Areyu said softly, lifting her free hand in his and kissing the back of it. "My entire world celebrates your presence here today."

"I think they're here to see you," she informed him dryly, glancing at the crowd. The blue streak she had been keeping an eye on had fallen out of her line of sight, creating a feeling of unease in her chest. His escort was really unnecessary, but his presence allowed her a sense of reality in the swirl of surreal euphoria she took part in by standing next to the Players.

"If you were to stay at my side, they would worship you and treat you as a queen."

"I'm not a queen, I'm a doctor," she refuted automatically, but something in his tone made her take another look at the alien's face.

"That could change," he murmured in her ear. Actually he shouted it close to her ear and she could barely hear him anyway. The crowds were shrieking again although their attention was not on the Oraman barge.

A slender youth, possibly ten years old, was surrounded by a quartet of boys, all larger than him and dressed in rival colors. They were beating the younger boy with fists full of candy, criticizing his banner for a rival Province. It seemed that athletic loyalty had turned its fans into bullies for its cause and the surrounding crowds were placing wagers on the outcome.

"Areyu!" Andie pointed out the young bloods. "Do something!"

"What would you have me do? It is good training to separate the weak from the strong. If he cannot defend himself, perhaps he would not become a Player."

Furious eyes narrowed in an unspoken _'Are you kidding me?'_ expression that was wasted on the alien, shortly before Andie leaped off the exhibition platform and prepared to stalk across the road. Instantly she was surrounded by large men wearing green tunics; the security force of the Oraman Players would not let her into the crowd.

"Come, Andie," Areyu soothed her, kneeling at the edge of his barge and holding out a hand. "Let us continue. See? The boy is fine." He gestured with an arm.

She saw that Malcolm had stepped in. He sent the larger bullies scurrying away and helped the wounded lad to his feet. The wounded lad wasn't happy, and kicked away Malcolm's efforts. He looked up and Andie caught his eye, finally allowing the Ulnythian Guard to help her back onto the float. Malcolm knew how to take care of the people around him. Again she wished she could leave all this posturing behind and go back to her quiet, sterile lab where everything had its place and clutter wasn't allowed, but she was stuck here, tied to a man because he wished to honor her contribution. Smiling had become difficult around her clenched jaw. She was bored.

Reed watched the young boy run away through the crowds wiping at the blood and sweat on his face and felt a strange kinship with the kid. Too often he had been that lone younger man, smaller than the crowd, facing fists that did not stop. It was inconceivable that he should allow the bullying to continue. It seemed only one person in the thick crowds approved; one corner of her mouth lifted and her eyes lit up. She was pleased with his interference. Her satisfaction warmed him and for a moment he felt ten meters tall. He marveled that she would be concerned with the fate of one strange boy when she was surrounded by luxury and comforts. He tamped down on the feelings she inspired as he knew that in his line of work those kinds of emotions caused more problems than they solved. He had to keep their relationship detached.

Until the giant man next to her grabbed her forearm and tugged, drawing her attention back to him. Andie lifted her face to Areyu and Malcolm's urge to remove the hand that touched her was mollified slightly by the way her face froze back into that pleasant statue's smile she had been wearing all morning. Areyu did not please her. She wasn't doing this by choice. T'Pol may not have been able to command her affections for the Player, but that hadn't stopped Andie from accepting his offer of company, probably in exchange for all the materials _Enterprise_ needed to make repairs. As much as he wanted to drag her away from the man who treated her like a trophy, he could understand their precarious position. Without the supplies, they would have a long, slow journey home. Sacrifices must be made; he just wished they didn't have to include her.

He resumed his sideline guardianship, trying to blend in. But every time Areyu touched Andie Reed wanted to plant a fist directly into that perfect mouth. But she wouldn't appreciate the lieutenant stepping like a Neanderthal. Neither would his superiors. He wasn't sure which was worse; that he couldn't do anything for her or that she wouldn't let him even if he could. There was a stubborn streak in that woman as wide and deep as the galaxy. Most of the time he respected independent women, it's just that Andie liked to play dangerous games.

He wanted to go to Archer and explain the deal; as the true commander of the _Enterprise_, he would have to step in. He could make things better. But he had not approached Archer before, and now he was caught in the eddy of self-doubt, wondering if his input would be appreciated after all this time. Part of him knew he was making this more complicated than it had to be, but this situation was more complicated than it seemed.

Archer was broken and his livelihood hung in the balance because Malcolm hadn't been strong enough to protect him. And he couldn't seem to stand before the captain and admit as much because every time he thought about getting near him, he reverted back to the young boy he had been, standing outside of his father's office uncertain whether or not to enter, rather than like the senior officer he was trying to report to his captain. He was blending his feelings of childhood with the feelings he had as an adult. It wouldn't do. He had to remain detached from his emotional upheaval in order to do his job, and that didn't just hold true with exasperating doctors, but for his reaction to the captain's injury as well. He had to face the captain. It was definitely time for that. But first he had to finish this interminable parade. He checked his chronometer and sighed heavily at the slow-moving procession.

* * *

_Enterprise: Bridge_

"Can't you do something to curtail the number of visitors we're having? I don't need anyone else tramping through my ship." Trip prowled through the room. It had taken most of the night to get the environmental systems up to snuff in here, and slightly more time to clean up the worst of the debris. He had quite a long list today as well, which would be easier to accomplish if he didn't have to field requests for ship tours from the locals. The skylight had fallen onto the captain's chair and there had been quite a mess to tidy. In a few minutes there would be an engineering team in here to check the viability of the computers before bringing them back online and into service. For now they were alone and taking stock of the damage. He was having trouble focusing on his talk with T'Pol as he kept making mental notes of things that needed doing.

Inattention to the matter at hand was a problem shared by his companion as well. "Perhaps Chef could be encouraged to set up a vendor booth to offer foods from Earth as a way of participating in the exchange of cultures," T'Pol mused out loud. "Do you know what kind of food is offered at a venue such as this?" Her data pad dangled forgotten from her hand.

_Food? She was asking about food?_ "Hot dogs, hamburgers, popcorn, chili, peanuts, beer," he listed impatiently. "I'm sure Chef knows what to offer."

"That sounds fine," she murmured, stepping forward to prowl past the Navigator's seat.

_No lecture about carnivores?_ "Look, T'Pol, are you feeling all right? I know you've had some health issues in the last few days…"

"What do you know of my health issues?" she demanded. She seemed upset.

"Just that you had some," he hastened to clarify, "…and if you need some extra time to yourself, I could take on some extra duties and clear up some of your time...." His voice trailed off. She had stepped up onto the captain's platform and was standing directly in front of him. She was too close actually. He had to lean back to get a good look at her face, which seemed to be lost in thought.

T'Pol's urge to lash out at him for what must be obvious to everyone was warring with the urge to lean in close and sniff deeply. She knew she definitely shouldn't do the latter; when Tucker was working on engines his hygiene took a backseat to the mechanical problem. With effort she shifted her weight to lean further back and look deep into his blue eyes. "You have your hands full," she spoke softly.

Her husky whisper made the hair on the back of his neck stand up in a way that was not entirely unpleasant. "I can hand off some of this stuff to Hess or Kelby, if you need some more..." He could feel his heart rate pick up speed. The Bridge had never seemed particularly sexy before, but now the dim blue lighting was taking on a new ambience he was sure the engineers at Jupiter Station had never intended. Behind him he could hear the door open and he wanted to bark at whoever had intruded on this loaded moment to get the hell out.

But the crewman who entered the dim room wasn't alone. "T'Pol!" a tall, blond alien purred, holding out a hand in greeting. His hair and skin were still just as pale as moonlight. "It was my pleasure to offer you aid last evening. I had hoped to repeat the experience but I grow weary of waiting for you to require further assistance. I come to you to offer my services." A bright smile flashed in his face as his smooth hands clasped both of T'Pol's in his own.

"You have not been waiting long. Hardly any time has passed," she noted calmly, withdrawing her hand carefully. Her body chemistry was working overtime; that's why it felt like his smooth skin was more caress than greeting. He was still a tickle to her senses, carrying the scent of desert on him like cologne. It was not disagreeable.

"Every moment seems too long," the alien charmed her.

"Who the hell are you and how the hell did you get in here?" Trip growled. "This is a restricted area!" Part of his scowl was directed at the security escort waiting patiently at the door.

"I am Yhen of Yaochet," the alien answered without so much as a glance at Tucker when he spoke. He only had eyes for the Vulcan.

"The room was too close last night," T'Pol explained without taking her eyes from the alien. She sounded breathless. Her eyes were glowing with an interior heat that made Tucker's stomach hit the floor. "I stumbled. As you can see I have plenty of room now," she indicated to Yhen. "I have no intention of falling again."

Yhen didn't seem deterred. "If it is space you desire, then it is space you shall have," he vowed. "Come with me to Yaochet. I would show you an ocean of desert."

"Your offer is kind, but I am busy."

"You may bring a chaperone, if you like," Yhen promised. "But not this one," his gaze flickered playfully over Trip. "He is too pretty. You may bring ugly chaperones. I would be honored to offer your people a tour of my gardens." His smile stretched widely across his face and T'Pol felt an answering tug of her own.

"Don't you have a game to play?" Tucker snapped. One minute ago he had been feeling like the only man in the room and now he was feeling that his presence wouldn't even measure on a diagnostic life-sign reader.

"I am not a Player," Yhen barely glanced over his shoulder. "I oversee the wind energy for the Ulnythian population."

"Wind energy?" He sounded sullen even to his own ears. The rumors he had heard last night had been true. _There _had_ been a guy and he was standing right here!_ "You blow a lot of hot air?" He couldn't resist the dig. It had sounded less childish in his own head though.

"Energy is generated from fields of windmills. Yaochet directs the energy into power grids that take it across the globe," Yhen explained, more or less patiently. "We power most of the planet with just a few windmill gardens."

"You just stand around directing the energy flow? Must be hard to flip a switch." No matter how he tried, he could not make his mouth stop talking.

"I command the main operations base. Perhaps I can convince T'Pol to join me for a picnic lunch?" Yhen wasn't taking no for an answer. He smiled invitingly at her.

And T'Pol did the unthinkable; she didn't offer him no for an answer. Tucker could only stand and watch as she swung her head in his direction and asked if he needed further instructions on how to make the Bridge habitable, as though he needed her direction to do that. Then she fell into step beside the wind engineer and the two of them departed together.

Gripping the back of the captain's battered chair so tightly his knuckles glowed in the dim lighting, Tucker wanted to kick something. In a few minutes when the engineering team entered, he was rubbing his toe and cursing under his breath.

* * *

_Champion City_

Before the float had come to a complete stop, Andie was over the edge. She ducked under the arms of the Ulnythian Guard, who was too busy assisting the Players off the flat transport to stop her, and skidded through the crowds. She found the one she sought rather quickly. When he saw her running he met her halfway.

"What's wrong?" Reed inquired.

"I've got about twenty minutes before he notices I'm missing and fifteen more before he stops searching the crowds. Can you get me up to _Enterprise_ and back immediately?" she asked breathlessly. She was afraid she was going to have to take the time to explain what she wanted and why she wanted it and why it would be good for Reed to give in to her so she was speaking quickly in order to get it out before her escape was noted.

Instead of arguing, Reed wrapped his callused hand around hers and pulled her away from the growing crowds of adoring fans converging on the Players. It didn't take long for Andie to reach down and pull off the ridiculously tall-heeled shoes in order to keep up with the rushing tactical officer. They skimmed through crowds that thinned the further away they got from the core of local interest, and skipped up the steps of the Launch Pad to the waiting Shuttle Pod.

Andie landed on the rear seat with a delighted giggle while Reed threw himself into the navigation chair and began bringing the ship to life. "You're a life saver," she sighed.

"I live to serve, my lady," he told her, mimicking the Zitheran policy with a slight smile. "What's the occasion that has us ditching your escort?" He was flicking buttons and levers as he teased her.

"There's an experiment that I left running in Sickbay and I need to get back to it. Areyu will protest, telling me that I have to get to his ceremony thingie today and it's easier to get my work done without him hovering over me. I'll get back in time for the thingie and he'll hardly know I was gone."

Reed had cleared the city traffic and now there was nothing but blue sky until they left the atmosphere. "You're going back?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Well, yeah, but..."

"Wait! What experiment?" He'd walked her back to her quarters at midnight last night. _When did she have time to start experiments?_

"I got up early, before the parade," she told him. It was hard not to squirm. People were always telling her she needed to sleep more, but she got by just fine on just a few hours a night.

"You need more rest than that!" Reed predictably argued.

"I'm fine," she told him with a sigh.

The noise of rummaging caught his attention and he craned his neck around to look at her. "What are you doing?"

"There's a first aid kit back here, right? Oh, here it is." She pulled out the small box and closed the lid on the bench seat. Propping one ankle on her knee she studied the growing red smear on the sole of her foot.

"Are you hurt?" That was a stupid question since he could see the blood drop.

"I caught a sliver back there. I'm fine," Andie explained hurriedly, using a tweezers to pull the fragment out before adding ointment and a band-aid to the minor laceration.

The euphoria that had guided him since she'd reached out her hand evaporated in a heart beat. "You shouldn't be running around with bare feet," he announced as he began docking procedures. He missed the doctor's eyes rolling at his gentle rebuke.

He didn't miss her reflection in the small porthole window as they waited for the room to pressurize; she was jiggling restlessly on the seat. Her foot was tapping the floor impatiently and when the door was opened, she leaped out of her seat as though she had been launched with rockets. Curiosity killed the cat, he tried to remind himself, but it didn't stop him from hurrying after her. _How many times had he followed her through the corridors of this ship?_ He'd lost count. He was always behind and trying to catch up when it came to the energetic physician. Even so he was surprised when they entered Sickbay and she made for the bio-bed wrapped in its gauzy curtain.

"How are you feeling?" she asked the guarded patient, dragging a white lab coat around her native garb and grabbing a medical scanner without noticing her security escort.

"I can't feel anything," a familiar and most welcome voice announced.

While Andie checked readings on the computer monitors, Reed moved around Sergeant Chang to catch a glimpse of the captain.

"It looks like the Khineran surgeon was right," Andie murmured. "They've purified their process and it doesn't carry the usual...Can I help you, Reed?" She turned her head to hurl the question over her shoulder and shifted her weigh in an attempt to protect her patient from prying eyes. Archer shook his head. It was too late to matter if he wanted Reed to see him here.

"I wanted to make sure you got to your appointment all right," Reed obfuscated. "The Khineran surgeon was right about what?"

"Dr. Andie used some of the local materials to shore up my breaks," Archer admitted ruefully. He shifted restlessly.

"You're cured?" Malcolm stepped forward for a better look at the miracle. The computer showed a dark mass accruing in the middle of the spine and he thought of the blue goo he caught her cooking last night. He had been so sure that she was making toys for Areyu, but she had been thinking all the time of her job.

"Not cured," Andie corrected. "But it should stabilize the break enough that Archer can sit up without exacerbating the injury." She looked at the captain. "Are you ready to try?"

"What the hell," Archer shrugged indolently. He didn't dare let on how badly he wanted this to work. Lying in bed and waiting to be relieved of command was never going to sit well with him and he had been foolish to think that it would. Or in the words of his doctor, he'd been _a gigantic baby_ and he should _get the hell over himself_. Her bedside manner could use some effort, he thought with a grimace, but her work seemed up to snuff.

"Take his arms here and offer support. Until I know how much stress that stuff can take I'd like to take this slow." Andie directed Chang and Reed to stand on either side of the captain and help lift him into a sitting position while she maintained an eagle eye on the monitors.

The older man grunted as his body was tilted in a direction that had quickly become awkward and foreign to him.

"Are you feeling pain?" Andie asked.

"Tension," Archer grunted. "Pressure," he added.

Andie ran the scanner over his body. "I'm not seeing signs of infection," she decided. "Although your body may be unaccustomed to the new component and it's trying to figure out what it is." The press of a button tilted the back rest of the bed upright until it rested directly under Archer's frame. "Let him go," she commanded and the two guards settled him back into a seated position. "How's that?"

"Feels...different," he panted. He'd barely exerted his muscles but he was sweating like he'd run a marathon. "Not painful...just new."

The doctor frowned at the data streaming in. "I'd like to keep you under observation for a while. Do you mind staying in Sickbay or would you prefer to go back to your quarters?"

"My quarters, I think," he groaned.

"I'll get the stretcher," Chang volunteered.

"I've got something better," Andie told him. She moved to a cupboard and pulled out a cushioned chair with large wheels on either side. "You up for this?" she asked Archer.

Jon was hard pressed to look at the contraption without shuddering in revulsion. Better was not the word he would use to describe it. He was an active man and only invalids rode around in wheelchairs. The desperation to remain ambulatory at any cost was warring with his pride in being forced to admit his need for it. "Yeah, sure," he grunted.

It took the three of them to settle him in. A blanket was settled over his legs and Chang took the helm. Just as they were starting out, the com chirped.

"_Dr. Andie, this is the Bridge."_

With an imperceptible tightening of her mouth, the physician moved to the comm panel. "Andie here, go ahead, Ensign Sato."

"_Player Areyu is looking for you. Should I tell him that...?"_

"Tell him I'll be right down," Andie cut her off. She looked at the men. "Can you guys get him back to his quarters?"

"We're all grown men, Andie. I think we can maneuver these halls of ours with no problems." Archer's tone tried to be playful but came across as curt. The discomfort was hard to handle; both the physical strangeness, and the emotional reticence.

She didn't pay him any mind, moving already toward the door. "I've got to attend a thing...Wait! Lunch!" she snapped her fingers and halted.

"I've got it covered," Malcolm offered.

"Thanks, this shouldn't take long." Andie pulled off the lab coat, and picked up her discarded shoes. "I'll be back soon."

"Wait!" Reed stopped her. "I should give you a ride back down."

"No worries," Andie refused. "I'll get Rostov to do it. I saw him loitering near the Launch Bay." She offered a tight-lipped smile and headed down the corridor at a run.

* * *

_Main Engineering_

Tucker looked up from his computer monitor to see Andie rubber-necking around the room like a tourist.

"Can I help you, Doc?" he drawled.

"I'm looking for Rostov," Andie told him. "I was hoping he could give me a quick ride down to Ulnythia before Areyu sends the Guard after me."

"I thought Reed was keeping an eye on you?" he questioned.

"He's doing something else for me," she evaded carefully. "Is T'Pol here? Maybe I should ask her instead?" The engineer was irritable and that was unusual; perhaps his duties were keeping him from proper rest as well. _Nobody ever fusses over his lack of sleep!_

"No, T'Pol isn't here!" Tucker all but snarled. He got up out of his chair in a hurry. "She's down on that planet taking a desert tour with some guy she just met!" Turning his head he bellowed to the room at large. "Rostov!" The crewman poked his head out of a crawl space and Tucker growled at him to get the Shuttle ready for the Doc. Rostov scampered out of the room with a very hasty agreement that proved to Andie that she wasn't the only one noticing the Chief's foul temper.

Andie paused, wondering if it would do her any good to proceed cautiously. "Um, isn't that kind of the point of exploring new cultures?" _Caution really wasn't her thing,_ she thought with an unspoken sigh.

Trip took a deep breath. "Not when the captain's abdicatin' all his responsibilities and leavin' her in charge. And with her on some excursion, that leaves all the responsibilities to me and I've got more'n enough to keep me busy without doin' her work too!" He slammed a tool down on the table with a loud clang.

"I'll talk to her about that," Andie promised. She turned to depart then stopped. Turning back she tilted her head thoughtfully to one side. "The guy who took her...was he tall and blond?"

"Yes, from the Yaochet Province," Trip growled. "He leered at her too," he added when Andie didn't look appalled.

Actually her face had relaxed as she considered the implication of that. "Oh, okay," she acknowledged slowly. Given the Vulcan's impairment and her visible reaction to the tall man from the party, that might be a good thing. Seducing the alien would put her neurochemistry back on track and they could focus on other things. "Tell her to contact me when she returns." The line between her brows faded away and she started to move out of the room. "You're scaring your crew," she added before she left. "You might think about removing that stick from your butt."

She could actually hear the sound of his teeth clattering together as his jaw clamped shut over what was sure to be an unpleasant retort. Before she got back on the shuttle, she sent a note to T'Pol's computer suggesting that Tucker get some shore leave immediately. Maybe if he seduced an alien he'd feel better too.

* * *

_Mess Hall:_

Haley Carter loitered near the lunch line with her empty tray in hand. She looked up quickly every time the door opened, but so far her date hadn't appeared and she was getting frustrated. Pretty girls didn't get stood up, she thought, at least not so far in her life.

Ensign Black slipped through the door and made a beeline for the queue.

"Hey, Ian," Carter called out, putting on her sweetest smile. "Have you see Michael today? We're supposed to have lunch."

"I think he had to take Dr. Andie back down to Ulnythia," Black explained, filling his plate. "She had some emergency she had to take care of before she went back for the big ceremony."

Haley's mouth clamped shut in a straight, grim line. "How can she go down again? She was just there this morning! Don't you think we should all get a little R and R?"

"She's working, Haley," Black tried to explain. His words fell on cyncial ears.

"I'll bet she's working it," Haley fumed. _Not only was the doctor taking up all the personal time she could manage, but she was interrupting Haley's plans with her own boyfriend!_ The ensign slammed a bowl of soup and a salad onto her tray and proceeded to dine quickly, all the while nursing a feeling that she was being deeply put upon.

There had to be something she could do about that damned doctor!

* * *

_Captain's Quarters:_

Archer had been placed in his bed. He was now sitting up with a lunch tray across his knees while Chang had taken one look at Reed's face and excused himself to stand guard outside the door. Yet Reed hadn't said anything. He stood awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other nervously.

"Malcolm," the captain offered to break into Reed's thoughts. "Is something wrong?"

_The captain was lying down; _of course_ something was wrong!_ "No, sir. Nothing's wrong. I just..." This was worse than those times he had been called into his father's study when he was a boy. Shuffling his feet, forcing his chin up to meet those stern eyes and feeling his knees knocking together while his father just stared at him. "I just wanted to know how you were doing," he finished, feeling illiterate and awkward.

Archer waved a hand over his blanket wrapped legs. "You know how I'm doing."

"Yes, sir."

Archer waited for his tactical officer to continue but it seemed as if he was lost in thought. He thought a break might be in order. "I don't like to eat alone. Why don't you go get a lunch tray and bring it back here? We can talk."

"Yes, sir," Malcolm agreed automatically.

Passing through the door he mentally kicked himself all the way to the turbo-lift. It was difficult to pick out the right words although at this point any words might be better than none. But it was a lot more complicated than 'gee, I'm sorry I'm the reason you're incapacitated.' There wasn't any good way to apologize for destroying someone's life.

Yet there was something even deeper than that, Reed realized. What was really bothering him was something that had been wrong for a lot longer than the Captain had been off his feet. And this conversation could not be put off any longer. So here he stood on the side of the door that he once more dreaded entering. Words that needed to be said were stopping in his throat, choking the air out of his lungs. His hands were shaking but he hit the buzzer. There was a command to enter. And then he was there.

"What did you get?" Archer asked politely after Malcolm had been settled in the chair with the half table across one arm.

Reed looked down at his tray. He had no idea what he'd picked out. It looked like vegetable soup and a sandwich of some kind. There was iced tea there and he took a quick sip. "You don't seem to have much appetite," he pointed out, stalling for time.

"Well I don't really work up an appetite laying here and counting ceiling tiles," Jon smirked. He hoped the smile wouldn't crack his face open. It hurt to use those muscles as well.

"I should go." The remark actually cut Malcolm open and he wasn't sure it was the right time to bring up the rest of it.

"Lieutenant!" The command was quiet, but it stopped Malcolm in his tracks. "Sit down, Malcolm."

The armory officer complied, taking his seat again.

"There's something on your mind. Why don't you just get it out in the open?"

Malcolm wilted, although his shoulders remained stiff. "I wasn't certain I should come. I didn't think you wanted me here."

The silence grew.

"Why wouldn't I?" Jon inquired. Misery was etched all over Reed's face. He didn't have the heart to tell him that he had been right; Jon didn't want to see anyone. Or rather, he didn't want them to see him like this.

"To be honest I don't think you trust me, sir." The words caused some surprise even as they left him mouth. _That was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? Not the other stuff but this issue that had been brewing since they had heard about the Expanse._ "You've been keeping secrets from me and as your tactical officer I can't do my job without all the information at my disposal. The only reason I can perceive is that you don't trust me because I've failed you."

"What would give you that idea?" Jon's mind was blown wide open.

"Isn't that why you kept secrets with Andie on Renaisterre? Isn't that why you went walking in the middle of the night without a guard? Why you brought in marines for our mission in the Expanse?"

"The marines were necessary," Archer pointed out, picking the least objectionable topic. "You said so yourself at one point."

"But our mission is finished and still the marines are on board!"

"You want me to send 'em back?"

"This is no laughing matter! I just wish I could prove my loyalty to you so you don't feel the need to seek outside assistance."

"I'm not laughing," Jon sobered up. "You don't have to prove anything to me, Malcolm. I've always been pleased with your performance as my tactical officer." He sighed. "I wasn't keeping secrets with Andie so much as I was granting you plausible deniability. And you aren't the reason I went walking at night. I had to take Porthos for a walk. I guess I just got a little lost." _That was an understatement! For one long moment he hadn't been sure wanted to go back. And now that he knew that captaining this ship was definitely what he wanted more than anything else he may not be able to do it for much longer!_

Realizing he had drifted off mid-conversation, Jon swallowed hard and tried to press on. "I just needed a moment to myself. The reasons I'm lying here now have nothing to do with you. If you and Andie hadn't brought down Sadiré and Herak, none of us would have gotten out of there. That mistake was mine." He plucked at his blanket. "I guess I just never thought that it would leave such a lasting mark."

The silence grew.

"You're really pissed off about those marines, aren't you?" Jon couldn't stop the smirk even if he wanted to. "You've been mad about that for almost a year now. I'm surprised it took you this long to bring it up!"

Frankly, Reed was a little surprised too, now that it seemed to be so easy. "I could have prepped my security team to...grow taller and eat their meat raw!" Malcolm could recognize a gentle jibe when he saw one and responded in kind. "They have been useful on occasion," he conceded.

Jon grinned tiredly. "Why don't you tell me what's happening on Ulnythia?" He reached for his glass of iced tea and nearly knocked the glass over.

Malcolm rescued the liquid from it's topple, handing over the glass and mopping at the splash with the corner of a napkin. "Don't worry, sir. When my father was wounded, he needed extra help too."

"Your father was wounded?"

"His knee was destroyed; he required several surgeries before he could walk on it again. He's lucky to have the use of it at all. For a while though, it was impossible for him to get done the things that needed to get done."

"What needed doing?" Jon asked, thinking about duty rosters and repair schedules and T'Pol's rather withdrawn face. Most of those things could be completed while he was in bed, but he hadn't shown much interest in them of late.

In spite of their distance from Earth, Malcolm couldn't resist peering around the room as though someone might be listening. "He needed his stash of butterscotch drops from the secret cupboard in his study. My mother put him on a strict diet and he frequently needed aid in retrieving his loot." Malcolm's face was very solemn; in direct opposition to his twinkling eyes.

"Let me guess," Jon finished with a smile. "You offered to help your father out?"

"I did not offer!" Malcolm protested with a grin. "He made it an order! It was dangerous work! If my mother had ever found me sneaking sweets to my father, my life wouldn't have been worth the cheap plastic wrappings!"

Jon choked on his tea. "I don't have any butterscotch drops but I do have a secret stash of peppermints. They're in that cupboard there." Jon pointed and Malcolm obliged by bringing the soft sack over.

They each popped a candy disk into their mouths, savoring the sweet tang.

"That hits the spot," Malcolm sighed. "I haven't felt like myself in a long time."

Archer looked up in surprise. "Me neither."

"I thought it would all go back to normal by now."

"You saw a shrink when we got back, right?" That was the proper response from a captain, he decided.

"Sure, along with the standard debriefing," Malcolm nodded.

"Did you have a chance to unwind? You know, after?" Archer inquired. He realized he'd never asked before. They'd just been jumping from one task to another; there hadn't been time for idle chitchat. He had plenty of time to chitchat now.

"Sure," Malcolm agreed. He could feel the tension coming back to his shoulders. "I spent some time with my family. And then I spent some time on the beach." _And attending funerals_, he thought without speaking.

"Good for you," Archer nodded. He pondered those few weeks back home. It had been hectic. First there were the repairs to the ship, followed by prepping the ship for another mission. There had been debriefings and psych evaluations, and once they were cleared, televised interviews. There had been random passers-by who asked for autographs followed by random critics who told him he should never have gone into space. The only quiet moments he had to himself were moments he spent at the top of a mountain. _Not entirely alone_, he remembered with a smile.

"It was very restful," Malcolm agreed listlessly. "Although it didn't prepare me for all the time I'm spending trying to keep track of the doctor."

Archer looked at Malcolm for another long moment. "What's she up to at the moment? Is she giving you a lot of trouble?"

"At the moment she's giving Areyu a lot of trouble," Malcolm grimaced. "I think we've got a live feed if you want to watch her give him fits firsthand." The captain nodded encouragingly and Reed brought up the news reports on the large screen fixed to Archer's wall across from his bed. As they listened to the pre-Game commentary, Reed leaned his forearms on his legs and gave Archer the low down on all the latest news.


	8. Chapter 8

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 8

* * *

_T'Pol's Quarters_

Relieved to be out of the sunlight, T'Pol sat down rather heavily in her desk chair and pulled off the yellow head covering that Yhen had bought for her. He had been a charming host. Three members of the science department had accompanied her on the tour of the windmill gardens and the power distribution center, and he had been amiable and informative without fail. T'Pol could pretend that she was just a visitor on official duty for a while.

As they began the return to the shuttle, Yhen slipped an arm around the small of her back to indicate that she should step through the door ahead of him, and the gentle contact bothered her far more than it should. She could feel the heat of his touch through the white catsuit she wore; it burned her skin and the hormones that were forcing her body to react glorified in the sensation. Goose flesh broke out all over her skin. A quick glance at the members of her crew did not give her a definitive answer as to whether anyone else noticed the contact or not.

To be safe she tried to stay away from him. He didn't make it easy. The Yaochet Province was hot and dry but its people were warm and friendly. Most of the natives thought nothing of taking the hand of the person next to them. They touched each other often and frequently and Yhen took the same treatment of her. He captured her hand as they closed in on the shuttle and slowed her progress.

"T'Pol, I have something to offer you," he started, drawing her off to one side when she looked nervously at her crewmates.

"You are very kind," she answered automatically. Her body was crying out to her to twist her hand around and run it over his bare, muscled forearm and across his bicep.

"You are attracted to me," he stated bluntly. "I know you are, but you are denying yourself. Perhaps that is due to your chaperones. But your doctor does not seem to share the same reticence."

"Andie has her own mind," T'Pol responded. Her body wanted her to stretch up on her tiptoes and press a kiss against his mouth to prevent him from talking about other women.

"I could make you happy," Yhen assured her gently. His hand slipped out of hers and did what her hand wanted to do, running up over the smooth material of her clothing, leaving a trail of fire across her arm before settling on her bicep. She couldn't stop the shudder when he touched her and he noticed. The warm smile he offered stretched gently across his face like the sun stretches across the desert at sunset.

"I am only on Ulnythia for a short time," T'Pol floundered. Her mind was warring against her body's wishes, even if giving in to her needs was the most logical course of action.

"Long years of war have made Ulnythians aware that happiness can be fleeting. Sometimes a short happiness is all we get. It is encouraged to make the most of these times. Wouldn't that be enough?" His other hand took hers and raised it up, brushing his warm, dry lips across skin. Each contact caused nerve endings that were already on high alert to tingle and tremble in anticipation.

T'Pol considered carefully. She felt she was always being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, it was thrilling to be whisked away by an attractive, attentive man. The tingles of excitement were dulled slightly by her awareness that it was her _Pon farr_ talking; without the rising levels of hormones in her body she would be on board her ship, making certain that repairs were being executed with the minimum of fuss. Yet her condition was not Yhen's fault. He couldn't know that every contact made her suffer, and she was sure that if she told him it made her uncomfortable that he would cease his actions immediately.

Perhaps she didn't want him to cease his actions. Dr. Andie continued to remind her that if she didn't mate soon, she would surely succumb to the blood fever and die. She could not ask Koss to repay her the favor of mating, and she could not return to Vulcan until she could be certain that Archer was cable of taking care of himself. Given her limitations Yhen seemed like the perfect solution. He would take what she would willingly offer him and her problems would be solved.

Her long hesitation had caught his attention and Yhen lifted his gaze from the inside of her wrist where he had been placing feather-light kisses. "You require time to deliberate on the matter?" he guessed, a light frown crossing his face.

Wordlessly she nodded. If she could speak, her body would have suggested that they go somewhere private right now.

"I will arrange to have dinner on my private estate this evening," Yhen told her gently. "I will send you the coordinates. Come if you wish, and I will spend the evening showing you all the marvels of my home." He brushed a short lock of hair off her forehead and another shudder ran through her. "The moonlight will reflect off the pale sands, and it will look like heaven. You would be its angel," he promised. He leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth softly.

They had parted company half an hour ago, but she could still feel the pressure where his mouth had rested, more whisper than kiss. His offer was tempting. It was everything her body was demanding. It would be a relief to get this out of the way, to think freely and clearly, to be in control of her own mind again. But something about this upcoming meeting had her on edge, and not in the sensual way. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, as the humans would say. The unease was just enough to make meditation useless, so she turned on her computer and checked the daily notices.

Andie had sent her a note, congratulating her on her meeting with Yhen and requesting that Tucker be sent on shore leave as soon as possible. Seeing the name on her computer caused T'Pol to pull off the Yaochet's yellow scarf and fold it carefully before setting it aside. It made no sense to choose one course of action over another based on what an uninvolved third party might think of said action. However she knew Tucker would 'hit the roof', as her human crewmates might say. He had been working harder than any other crewman in order to get the ship in shape and here she was contemplating taking more time away and leaving him with more of the mess in order to engage in frivolous pursuits.

_Pon farr_ was not frivolous; it was dangerous. By refusing any reasonable treatment, she was placing her own health in jeopardy. She had to go with him didn't she? Her body was demanding it. It was the sensible thing to do. But sensible hadn't really been her style. It was part of the reason she wasn't welcomed home on Vulcan

Any other wish that this could be different was not logical.

That answer was less satisfying than she thought it might be. In an effort to reconcile herself, she finished skimming through her correspondence then took a tour of the ship.

* * *

_Deck E_

_Outside the Launch Bay_

Both shuttles were employed in transport duties. A precise schedule allowed for one shuttle to be on the designated landing pad in the Oraman Sector, while the other was docked with _Enterprise _every half hour. Malcolm was checking on the team designated to run regular diagnostic checks on the pods for wear and tear before they headed out again and he was surprised to find Andie Brainerd back on board. Actually he nearly ran into her as she skipped through the door that led into the corridor.

"I thought you were attending the opening ceremonies," he mentioned as he took a startled step backward.

"The opening ceremonies were taking forever and I have patients to see," Andie hurried through the words as though she didn't have time to explain.

He wasn't particularly concerned with her abrupt tone. "Ah," he murmured, not knowing what else to say about that. It never occurred to him that she would take his noncommittal answer as a criticism.

"All right, fine!" she snapped, turning around to face him with a scowl. "I fell asleep during the ceremonies and when I went to splash some water on my face in the lavatory, I couldn't get back into the auditorium!"

"You fell asleep?" She didn't seem to think that confession was as funny as he did.

"They were telling the _entire_ Ulnythian history in the Ulnythian language and I didn't even have a translator avaiable!" she wailed in frustration. "I'd been there for eleventy billion hours already! My ass was asleep!"

He was chortling but trying to choke it back.

Her scowl deepened. "I may have snored," she grumbled under her breath.

The chortle turned into a fully formed guffaw. Her response was to double up a fist, and Malcolm struggled to reign in his amusement. "I have warned you about getting proper rest," he chided her gently.

"Yeah, whatever," she groused. "How's the captain?" she asked, too weary to chuckle with him.

"Tired," Reed responded. "We had lunch and watched some of the live feeds from the planet." His grin grew. "I found some of the ceremonies to be very exciting, unlike others." He just couldn't resist poking fun at her.

Andie grimaced. "I need to give the captain a check-up before I stop in Sickbay and feed my cats and grab some dinner and then I have to get back to Champion City before Areyu finds out I'm gone and..._finish my nap_." Her tirade ended in a yawn.

"If you need any help, don't be afraid to ask," Malcolm told her.

"When I need you, I'll let you know," Andie muttered under her breath. Movement toward the door was cut short when she sent a query back over her shoulder. "Hey, Reed?"

He paused.

"I saw what you did for that kid this morning. That was very nice of you."

"Anyone would have done it," he brushed away her praise as his cheeks heated up.

"Areyu wouldn't have," she told him. "See you later." She disappeared through the hatch.

Malcolm's afternoon got brighter. It darkened just as quickly when he heard a familiar voice in the corridor. Areyu had access to his own shuttle and it had just docked at the airlock entry. Unable to resist his curiosity he ducked through the portal and went to check it out.

"I discovered you were missing and I could not find you," Areyu noted, reaching out and touching her gently on the nose, ignorant of the way Andie cringed at the touch.

She sounded particularly peeved when she answered. "Even though I passed through the check point with you this morning, the guards wouldn't let me re-enter even though I am sure they remembered me. I had no way to get word to you."

"If you were wearing the Oraman sigil you would not be turned away from any door on Ulnythia," Areyu reminded her instantly. They prompt way he mentioned this and the dark expression it brought up on the doctor's face made it seem like this was an old argument.

"Don't worry about me," Andie waved away his lecture. "I had a lovely time. Hey, Reed!" She sounded casual as though she hadn't just seen him, but the easy gesture made Areyu's face tighten.

"What did you do without me?" Areyu placed his body between her and Reed so she was forced to look up into his green eyes.

"Don't you fret," Andie tweaked his chin playfully. "I don't get bored. I wandered a bit. There were a couple of Ulnythians outside and they gave me a lovely tour of the surrounding quarter." She leaned around Areyu to talk to Reed. "Did you know there's this one food vendor that has been serving the _same_ food in the _same_ location since the Games _began_? Talk about tradition!"

"Who were they? Do you even know? Tell me you weren't consorting with our opponents?" Areyu's voice gave the impression that she'd been discovered eating live kittens.

Scrunching up her face as though she was thinking very hard, Andie didn't exactly deny the claim. "I don't _think_ they weren't Players," Andie told him. "I think they were maintenance workers. Anyway they were very charming. You don't have to feel that you have to entertain me all the time. I can amuse myself." She glanced pointedly at her watch. "Aren't you late for practice?"

"You will come with me and I will get you an Oraman sigil to wear so you will not be left behind again," Areyu promised.

"That's very kind of you, but I need to go check on the captain right at this moment," she refused gently.

"You spend a great deal of time checking on your captain," Areyu noted suspiciously.

"Of course I do," Andie agreed. "He's the captain."

"Will he ever be ready to visit my world?" Areyu wondered.

"I would love to get him some fresh air, but I don't want to subject him to the crowds." That much was true, although it was also true that he didn't want to be seen in his condition.

"Do you finally think that I am interesting?" Areyu queried with delight. His earlier mood evaporated.

Andie cursed silently. She promised the invitation when she deemed Areyu interesting, expecting that the day would never arrive. But it seemed it had arrived unbidden today. "Sure," she answered without enthusiasm.

"I have access to a skybox that you may use to bring your captain to my world!" Areyu rubbed his hands together with delight. "I have to evict some charity orphans to get it, but it will be worth it to know that you are watching me and bringing luck to the Oraman Players! I will make the arrangement this moment! Bring your captain in half an hour!" His tall form scampered back to the airlock entry leaving Andie behind to whisper "Great!" in a weak voice.

"Is he serious about evicting orphans?" Reed asked.

"I have no idea," Andie answered honestly. She sighed heavily. "I guess I've got to convince the Captain to get outside."

"Want some help?" Reed inquired.

"Sure," Andie answered.

He wasn't pleased with the answer; it was the same one she gave Areyu. But he didn't lose heart. _If Areyu had actually evicted orphans, that would play into his favor!_ His feet tripped up when he wondered when he actually started competing for the doctor's affections.

_Must keep things professional_, he reminded himself.

"If all else fails, you can shoot him out a torpedo tube, right?"

It was hard to remain professional when she made him laugh.

* * *

_Captain's Quarters:_

"What are you doing?" Jon wondered with trepidation when the doctor entered, escorted by his security officer and started pulling clothes out of a drawer.

"You are going to get dressed because you've been invited to attend a sporting event and I accepted on your behalf," she answered brightly. "We're very lucky to get the invite."

"I don't want to go," Jon protested. The uplift in his spirits he'd felt sitting with Malcolm had drained away leaving him tired and grumpy. "I don't want anyone else to see me like this." He felt so useless lying here. As soon as the rest of his crew saw his condition, they would see him as useless too.

Andie planted her hands on her hips and stared directly at Captain Archer with a mulish expression on her face while Reed ducked his head to camouflage the grin when he saw her determination. "You are going to get dressed and watch some sports, Jon. Your health is suffering and it is my job to see that you are brought back to full recovery. If I have to drug you into senselessness _and_ beat you into submission, then never fear! I will not shirk my duty!" She offered a gleeful grin at this last announcement.

Jon stared at Andie with a sulky look on his face. "Shouldn't that be '_or'_? Not _'and'_?" he retorted.

She lifted her chin and asked archly. "Do I tell you how to do your job?"

"All the time!" Archer shouted in outrage.

She considered that statement for a moment before shrugging. "Whatever. You're going."

"Aren't you going to put a stop to this?" Archer demanded of Reed.

"No, sir," Reed refused, flushing at his previous flippancy. "I think it will be good for you."

"You're both fired," Archer grumbled as he sank deeper into his bed.

* * *

_Ulnythian Planet_

_Skybox_

Archer was of two minds about going. He liked being out of pajamas and into proper clothes, even if they were not his uniform. But he didn't want to have to face his crew and risk that they thought he was an abysmal captain for getting hurt like this in the first place. Unfortunately, Andie was determined to drag him along and she was unstoppable when she had set her mind to something.

His weak lunch hadn't prepared him for the hard work of being helped into the chair that stripped him of his dignity. Reed pushed him through conveniently emptied corridors, which had been designed by a submarine commander who had never considered handicapped persons when drawing up the blueprints, and subsequently offered obstacles of raised thresholds in several inconvenient places, until they arrived at the transporter alcove. The trio was met there by a stern Sergeant Chang who took over pushing the chair as Reed sent their molecules through the air to rematerialize on the planet's surface below.

Areyu greeted Andie by touching her nose which caused her smile to freeze just a bit. His greeting to Archer was more formal, thankfully. It was the first time the human had come face to face with their newest friends. Or rather, face to belly, since Areyu was so much taller and also standing upright. Jon remembered to thank Areyu for his generosity, and Areyu preened under the compliment before snapping his fingers and bringing over a Zitheran male, instructing him to see to their every need. He took both of Andie's hands in his, kissing the pale skin while telling her he had to return to his game.

The doctor smiled tightly. "Fair game, Player," she wished him well.

"Break a leg!" Archer offered.

Areyu looked horrified.

"It is an Earth expression of luck," Andie supplied quickly. Her lips twitched at the corners.

"An odd expression," Areyu noted with concern before taking his leave.

Jon suffered the indignity of having his chair lifted by the marine and the Zitheran over another raised threshold into a small square room. He was pushed to the front and transferred in another humiliating physical maneuver to a richly appointed chair and his legs were propped up on a hassock. Andie threw a lap robe over his legs in spite of the warmth of the passing afternoon. Jon tilted his head up and luxuriated in the feel of sunlight on his face through the skylight above until the doctor was done fussing. Before him was a large picture window, open for the moment to let in the sounds and smells of the crowds below. It was the first time he had actually seen this alien world and the sky was deep blue and the grass on the playing field below was green and the immense stadium was filling up quickly with a variety of strange faces. His attention was brought back sharply when she tossed a data pad in his lap.

"Work piles up, lazy bones," she told him heartlessly.

Jon grimaced.

"There's also a data card there with the rules for this particular game," she added, pulling out a data pad of her own. "You've been out of the loop."

"You should really work on your bedside manner," Archer advised her sagely.

He received a dour look for his trouble. "They told me I couldn't do permanent harm to my patients. They didn't say anything about kicking some much-needed ass now and again. I consider that one of the perks!"

"I'd like to see a copy of that Hippocratic Oath," Archer suggested with a barely restrained grin.

"Bite me," she responded easily. In spite of her caustic tone she relaxed as he seemed to regain some of his old personality, joking and picking at her in ways that weren't personal. Whatever it might cost in terms of her relations with Areyu might be worth it if it meant Archer felt less sorry for himself.

Their repartee was interrupted by the entrance of others. Travis Mayweather was the first one through the door; he dropped Porthos' leash in the hand of the captain with a grin that threatened to split his face open. He squeezed Archer's shoulder with one strong hand and headed out the door again, chattering about his newfound friends holding him a seat in the cheap section, but not before grabbing a handful of food from the buffet set up at the rear of the room. Porthos was happy to take over, planting his body on Archer's lap and washing his face thoroughly with a tail that wagged so vociferously that it caused danger to anyone stepping too close.

Hoshi Sato dashed into the room and threw her arms around the captain, hugging him fiercely before she was dragged off by Liz Cutler in order for the crewman to plant a familial kiss on his cheek. Regretfully they had to depart the planet and return to their duty shifts for a few hours, having split up their working hours to attend a tour group that morning.

Other crewmen popped their heads in through the open door in the back of the room, and the wide open window at the front. Each one was draped in a variety of fan paraphernalia, mostly green, and each one was busy chattering about things they had seen and activities they had done. Every face lit up when they saw him, and each one stopped to wish him well and remark how pleased they were to see him on his feet, even though he remained seated. Andie never looked up; just kept tapping away at the pad in her lap but the captain thought she looked smug. Jon started to feel like a complete heel for cheating his crew as much as he had cheated himself. He'd been keeping them at arm's length when all they really wanted was to be part of his life. He really did have the best crew in the fleet.

Trip arrived, dragged through the door by the armory officer. Normally gregarious, he was oddly reserved today. He greeted Jon with a tired smile and piled a plate high with succulent looking foodstuffs before flopping down on the sofa next to Andie where he could peek at the captain without staring. The doctor glanced up and stole something from his platter and he pretended to be annoyed; his grin gave away his pleasure, though not for her thievery. He kicked his feet up on the viewing ledge and began consuming his vittles, while sneaking too many quick looks at the captain to be casual. Malcolm accepted a beverage from the Zitheran in attendance and settled against the wall near the window. From this position he could keep an eye on both the game and the girl.

Checking her chronometer intently, Andie suddenly excused herself and scooted out the door. She returned in moments with a dozen thin children in tow. Indicating the buffet and the few spaces available, she made sure the orphans that Areyu had ousted to ensure her skybox were fed before they found adequate viewing areas around the room. Reed caught her eye as she fussed over the children and she waggled her eyebrows at him playfully. He could just imagine how annoyed Areyu would be to find that she had filled his skybox to the brim against his wishes.

There wasn't time to further ponder. The shouts from the crowds signaled that the games were about to begin. The door at the rear of the skybox closed, and the windows at the front were closed. At the top of the casement electronic stats and details were appearing, logging in the Players and the game officials, offering instant replay features, and short clips of previous games or training sessions that might be important to the betting commission, whose odds and spreads were advertised along one side. None of the data appearing obscured the Game beginning down below; that would be bad for business.

Down below the many rows of spectators, mostly dressed in green and orange, rose in one long shout of glee as the first toss was sent up. Archer's face lit up. An avid sport's enthusiast, he could hardly do more than cheer as the ball was knocked to one side of the field and both sides converged. The crowds in the stands screamed and the walls seemed to vibrate with the sound. Archer encouraged the thin little boy sitting on his lap to take his thumb out of his mouth and offer encouragement to the Oraman team, and eventually he did so. Too aware that Archer had shortchanged his own family-like crew, he vowed to spend whatever time he had left with them making sure they knew how important they were. Until Starfleet officially called for his removal, at any rate, he silently noted with a grimace. The sobering thought wasn't enough to ruin the rest of his day and he spent the next hours cheering on their alien hosts.

Trip Tucker held a little girl in his arms so she could see over the lip of the window. Heat spread through his face at the unexpected thought that he might do this with his own kid some day. He'd never considered getting married before and he wasn't sure what the impetus was for such a thought today; unless it was the orphan he was holding. She had dark coloring and his brain flashed to a recent dream about a cabin in the woods and a pair of dark brown eyes so similar to the pair this child had. With a painful clench, he forced that thought aside. She wasn't his and she never would be. He didn't know if he was talking about the kid or the dream woman but they were both out of reach. The day seemed to dim slightly, as though a cloud covered the sun, but the sky was still a bright blue. It just seemed less exuberant.

Once the Game was under way, Andie slid out from under the small boy bouncing on her lap and found a different chair near the buffet, turning her back to the competition outside and keeping it trained on the data pad in front of her. The score and instant replays were presented on small video consoles around the room, and she lifted her head regularly to take note of the outcome, but Reed noticed she didn't really care about the Game in particular. He wondered what she studied that had her entire concentration. From this angle he couldn't see, but he could see that she frequently consulted a sheet of crumpled paper kept hidden under one hand. A small boy wandered over and stared hesitantly at the purple-haired Zitheran. Andie looked up and noticed. She pulled the kid onto her lap and fed him with one hand as she continued to make notes with the other.

Malcolm was surprised at the courtesy. She was good with kids, patient in a way that she never was with adults. Like that kid this morning that had moved her to leave the parade in mid-adulation to save; he remembered her action with a warm feeling. It wouldn't do to have his appreciation of her showing on his face and he looked down at his feet. That's when he noticed the dirty kid staring up at him, unconcerned with the Games. "You're not tall," the kid noted astutely. He was probably accustomed to the Oramans, all of whom towered like skyscrapers over everyone, even the captain if he had been standing.

"I'm stronger than I look," Malcolm assured him.

In a strange coincidence on this alien world, the kid made a remark Malcolm had heard before. "You'd have to be." The words unintentionally made Reed cringe. In another life with a darker purpose those words had given him hope; now they just reminded him how hopeless his life was. He had no room in it for distractions. The doctor was a distraction, no matter how he pretended that she wasn't. He was going to have to do something about it and soon. Starting right after this tournament, it was going to be a whole new ballgame.

Speaking of ballgames, the cheers rose to deafening proportions. The support of the fans seemed to do the trick as the Oramans beat the Khinerans by the skin of their teeth. It seemed to be a good way to start off the Games.

* * *

_Ulnythian Skybox_

_Post Game_

Andie threw her body down on the sofa and sighed heavily. Reed and Tucker had volunteered to see Archer back to his cabin, as her medical expertise was needed to patch up the wounded Players, and they left her alone. Patching up the Players had been an arduous task since they all believed that they were young gods and they must offer congratulations and ardent cheers in their own favor. Her head was beginning to pound.

She was beginning to realize that the long hours and lack of sleep was catching up to her; she vowed to get by with several quick cat naps for a little while longer. Something gently brushed against the end of her nose just as she was drifting off and her features tensed up. _It had better be a big, damn bug trying to eat her face off, or else she was going to lose her temper and shove that athlete's inquisitive finger right up his…_

"Are you awake?" Areyu whispered, gently tracing the contours of her nose.

"I am now," she grumbled, trying to keep the worst of her temper out of her tone. Her eyes opened. "What is it with you and noses? Is that a local thing I should be aware of?"

Areyu looked surprised. "I'm told it is one of your customs," he explained in confusion.

Maybe she needed more coffee; Andie vowed to start keeping an extra thermos with her at all times. "I don't understand."

"Lieutenant Reed told me that it was a signal to begin mating," Areyu announced. "He said you would put a finger up my nose."

Andie was very happy that she hadn't been in the middle of sipping coffee before hearing that. She would have choked on it. "He...what?"

"I can understand the motivation. It is a personal act to indicate a readiness to engage in an intimate act. To fill my nose with the scent of you, to acquire a relation through the taste of you; it is all a prelude to mating." The athlete nodded approvingly.

"Reed told you that?" _Somebody was going to get his ass kicked later! _Sleepiness was no longer a problem. She sat up, considering his words carefully. Surely Reed left her a loophole. "Actually only a woman touches a nose. Men buy jewelry."

"Then it is good that I have brought you this!" Areyu held up a bracelet. It looked like a single green shackle to Andie but he offered it proudly, snapping its clasp on her arm. It bore the Oraman crest and felt like an anchor on her left wrist. "Now you will not be turned away from any door! You will be treated as a treasured Oraman!"

"Golly, that's just...swell," Andie gulped. Now that she had more important things to do than follow him around, she now had the means to follow him day and night without end. The doctor drew in a deep breath and began what she was sure was going to be a long conversation. "I couldn't touch your nose even if I wanted to because I can't mate with patients."

Areyu looked terribly disappointed. "But I have taken all the steps necessary for mating. I have not bathed."

Now Andie looked confused. "I don't know what means."

"Retaining a natural scent is alluring to women, so I have not bathed, as Reed suggested..." He stopped in mid-sentence. "Reed was not truthful, was he?"

Whatever Reed's reasons for tormenting her, she could use what he laid down. "I'm not entirely human," she evaded carefully. "So I don't follow all the human customs."

"How are you not human?" He inquired curiously.

"I wasn't born on Earth," she explained. "I'm half-Martian."

"Only the pure of blood can take part in the Games," he mused. Then he demanded. "How did your parents raise you? If you were raised as a human, it would not matter much."

She hesitated. "Family is...complicated. My dad took his medical practice off-world and my mom married another and...I don't see her." She looked at her hands. "I guess I raised myself for the most part."

"But you followed your father's professional path to honor him?"

"My career path is...complicated." Andie didn't want to talk about the tacks that sailed her to her present course. "I chose it. It chose me. What's the difference?"

"But you chose Starfleet? You chose to serve them and submit to their requirements?"

"Starfleet personnel made that choice, to tell me where I serve." Even in her own ears she knew that was an interesting separation she admitted to feeling. She was not really part of them. It wasn't something she wanted to think about right now.

"You are not happy with your choice?" Areyu asked softly. He seemed particularly interested in her answer. "You would prefer to be somewhere else?"

"It's...complicated," she evaded awkwardly.

"Ah!" Areyu leaned back, in good cheer again. "Our way is much simpler. We only choose to play the Game or to serve the ones who do. There is no complication. My father and my brother were Players in the Game, so I carry on their tradition and play the Game."

Andie leaned back. "I didn't realize this was a family business for you. It's nice to talk to you about something other than sports statistics. It's kind of nice."

Areyu grinned warmly. "Family is very important. We are all part of our Oraman family. You will never feel left out. It is not complicated here."

He seemed to be talking in much longer terms than she was and she wanted to put a stop that that. "_Enterprise_ has nearly completed her repairs. We could not have done it without you. I will remember this day for a long time."

"Don't break my heart to talk about going away," Areyu pressed a finger to her lips. "I cannot bear to think of you leaving me. Especially not when I have arranged to have you attend our celebratory dinner."

"Dinner sounds nice," Andie agreed with a yawn. "I could eat. The rest can wait." She darted a quick look at him.

"There is time for the rest," Areyu agreed. He grabbed her hand and led her away.

Across the field, Amandrez watched the pair leave the grounds. "He is wasting his time," he told his companion. "She will never honor our way of life."

"He will never let her go," the other man said with certainty. "He has to bring her around or else..."

"Or else she will be dealt with," Amandrez nodded. The other man agreed. "If he falls, we have an agreement, yes?"

"You are the worthy successor," the man agreed. "I will see that the others know it."

"I live to serve Orama Province in any way that I can," Amandrez vowed, dropping his eyes modestly. He would not be in second place much longer.

* * *

_Archer's Quarters_

Getting the captain back to his quarters proved to be something of an adventure. The injured man was exhausted but those who hadn't been on Ulnythia had told those that were on board and there was a gauntlet of people who wanted to stop him and say a few brief words of comfort.

Except for Kelby, of course, who had a litany of complaints to be heard. Tucker stepped in and told Kelby that those offenses would have to wait a little longer.

"Fine!" the officious Lieutenant snapped, standing up straighter. "I'll take these directly to Commander T'Pol!"

"She's back?" Tucker inquired. She had told him that he could have the afternoon off for the Game but that she would be meeting someone for dinner and would not be there when he returned.

"She never left," Kelby sniffed. He clutched his list tight to his chest and stomped in the other direction.

Trip's whole day got better.

Once the captain was back in his pajamas and tucked into bed, he pointed with all the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. "I have mail!" The glee simmered down into something like trepidation though; his mail would likely have a letter from Starfleet Command.

Tucker nodded tiredly. "Yeah, Hoshi and Lola got into the communications array while we were at the Game," he admitted. "We can receive, but we still aren't transmitting. I'll have to take a look at it tomorrow."

"Do you think they've got it all sorted yet?" Reed wondered. There was usually a fair amount of letters in the regular mail dump, but they'd been out of range for a month.

"Guess we'll have something to read over dinner," Tucker slapped him on the back. "Unless you want us to dine here with you?" he asked Archer.

"Go on," Archer shooed them away. He wasn't sure he wanted them to see his letters. "I'll have duty rosters to keep my company." Romero entered and settled a dinner tray on Archer's lap. Tucker brought the wireless keyboard so Archer could read his mail on the enormous wall monitor and then the three men departed.

There was a lot of it. Requests for subspace interviews were followed by polite requests by HQ for overdue reports and updates. There were engineering manuals and a few updates on some projects he was interested in, including updates on _Columbia_, which had apparently hit another snag, delaying their launch date. There were a few personal letters, which he decided to answer at another time. Except for the update requests, there was nothing official from Starfleet Command. He was relieved.

Until he wondered why they hadn't responded; hadn't T'Pol told them? Why was she keeping it secret? He sent a notice to T'Pol's quarters, but it came back with a Do Not Disturb order; obviously she was meditating. She was one of the few people he had not seen today. Perhaps she was resting. He decided his curiosity could wait until morning. The weight lifted off his chest. He had a short stay of execution, so to speak, and he hadn't felt this good in a years. He flicked the remote to bring up scenes from Champion City and ate his dinner with gusto.

* * *

_T'Pol's Quarters_

Dressing for a sexual conquest seemed ridiculous, but humans went to a lot of trouble to look desirable and the Ulnythian had a lot in common with humans, so she was making the effort. She wore the white catsuit that repelled heat from the desert, just back from the laundry, and wrapped the long yellow scarf around her shoulders like a shawl, which wasn't necessary because she was just the right temperature. This was something that she had to do. It would be pleasant, but more than that, it was necessary. The Kir'Shara talked about honoring Vulcan society, and that's what she was doing. It was important to do the right thing; her body was demanding it.

She was just wondering if she should do something intricate with her hair, like many women did, but was uncertain how to go about getting it to plait or curl or stand straight up as other's seemed to do with ease, when the doorbell chimed. Opening the door was a bad idea. Commander Tucker stood there, dressed in a fresh uniform.

Instead of heading to the Mess Hall with Reed, he had detoured to check on T'Pol. Now that she was staring at him from her doorway, he wasn't sure what to say to her. "Hi," he greeted her. Sharp blue eyes took in the smoothness of her hair and the jaunty yellow wrap she pulled around her. "Am I interrupting something?" The friendly smile seemed to slip away.

"No," she denied. "What do you want?"

"I wanted to let you know that the captain is back in his quarters for the evening. He's pretty beat so he'll probably sleep through the night." His eyes swept down her form and she suddenly wished he had not seen her about to embark on her date with Yhen. "You look like you're going out."

"I have dinner plans," T'Pol admitted.

"With that guy?" Trip wondered. After all they had been through it was a pleasure to find they could still work together as colleagues, but that all seemed to fly out the window at the mention of just one other man. He wanted to tell her not to go, not to play fast and loose with some guy's heart, but truthfully, he had no right. He held no ties to her affection. Hell, their whole relationship was based on their differences; their genders, their species, their personal belief systems. Damn, she was still a married woman! But the knot in his chest got pushed down into his gut so he could breathe. She was not his to command. Those dark eyes in the cabin belonged to a dream.

"With Yhen," T'Pol agreed carefully. Suddenly his name sounded weird on her lips, like the sighing of the wind.

"Have a good time," Trip offered through tight lips that refused to smile when he wished her well. "I got to finish puttin' the ship back together." He pushed off of her door jamb and stalked down the corridor.

His presence at her door had put her behind schedule. T'Pol flicked the switch that would turn off her lights and stepped outside the door. She imagined she could feel the weight of judgment in every pair of eyes she encountered on her way to the Shuttle Bay. Although he hadn't said the words, she was certain he was thinking about how he had stood up for her at her wedding just a few months ago. Although her union with Koss was ending, it was not officially over. _They knew she was false!_ The panic was beginning to rise up, overwriting her hormonal need. Every foot felt leaden in her white boots. The yellow of her scarf was just too bright. The corridors were too dim. There wasn't enough oxygen here, and she feared some sort of catastrophic environmental systems failure in this corridor. The lack of oxygen in her lungs caused her to press her back against the wall and trying to think of something to calm her nerves.

Her dinner companion was pale and exotic, almost handsome in his way. He was educated and articulate, informed on a variety of topics. He was pleasant without being overpowering. The blood in her veins was beginning to pulse in a rhythm that was going to take away her ability to choose. It was going to turn her into a raving madwoman. She was going to have to mate or die. Dr. Andie was doing all she could to stem the tide, but she seemed to believe that this cure was beyond her ability. If T'Pol was honest, she would have to admit that the doctor was correct. She was playing a foolish game when she should be taking her needs seriously and seeking help.

Yhen was help. If he could have been fashioned exactly to her specifications, he was exactly what she needed. His laid back demeanor suggested that he would be amenable to a sexual relationship. His pragmatic view of the world would not make expectations beyond a few blissful days. And T'Pols' own problem would be solved. She could devote more time to the other problems at hand, like the problems presented by the captain's illness. She could think things through with a clear head.

Picturing her dinner companion in her head, she imagined how his lips would be soft and dry, like the skin on his hands. He would press her back into the pale sand. The removal of his clothes would reveal more pale sandy skin. Her body would take over the physical aspects, taking her through the motions that would bring the heat growing inside her to the surface of her skin, only to blow away in the hot breeze of the alien desert. Face to face they would bond together for a few hours. She would look up and see blue eyes….but wait!

The sky on Yaochet Province was the same sandy shade as the desert sand. Everything was pale there. Yhen said something about isotopes in the atmosphere that leached color from the scale. The sand, the bright sun, his skin and his eyes, they would all be shades of sand and tan and honey.

They would be all wrong.

T'Pol blinked. A group of ladies giggled their way through the corridor on their way to the shuttle to the surface. The sound jerked her out of her daydream. She had to do this. In order to survive she had to do this. She had no choice.

But choice was exactly what Yhen offered. He extended the dinner invitation and looked deep into her eyes. _"You should consider my offer,"_ he whispered. _"Let me know what you choose." _

Choice. She had a choice. Knowing how _Pon farr_ works, she'd always assumed she had no choice. When the feelings came upon her, she must mate or die, that it would overwhelm her with her need. It wasn't what she wanted, but it was what she needed. Given her history with seeking out things that were not good for her, perhaps she should be less worried about what she wanted and more concerned with finding things that she needed.

Yhen was what she needed. If only she could bring herself to want what he offered.

She had a choice. Her illness would take over soon enough and she would have no further options then. But for now she was free to choose. Trip had taught her that early in their mission; looking at her with the warmth in his eyes washing over her like a summer sky. The chill she had begun feeling began to ebb away.

She had a choice.

Turning on her hell she walked back to the closest communications console and sent a message to the planet. Then she strode purposefully to Engineering and caught Trip before he disappeared into a conduit. "I have overextended myself," she told him. "I must cancel my dinner plans and remain aboard _Enterprise_. If you would care to return to Ulnythia, you may do so. Good night."

Without waiting for further conversation, she turned on her heel and exited the bustling room, leaving the dumbfounded man behind her. On her way out the main door, she slipped the yellow scarf from around her shoulders and draped it over the neck of Lieutenant Commander Shani Hess. Nodding as though it was appropriate, she stepped over the threshold and returned to her quarters to meditate. She felt sure that she would be able to achieve the correct sensation of peace tonight, unlike the many nights that had come before.

She had a choice and she was making it. Come hell or high water, as humans said. She was going to take control of her destiny; it was not going to control her.

* * *

_Reed's Quarters_

Balancing the plate of food on his desk, Malcolm logged on and noted his first letter with resignation. It had been expected for the last two months. Good news travels fast, but the anticipation of bad news made it seem to travel at the speed of a wounded snail. He pushed his plate away. After all the snacks earlier he hadn't been very hungry but now he could barely stand the smell of the food.

It was ever bit as bad as he expected it to be. "You had no right to do this, Malcolm!" A young man with dark hair and painfully familiar dark eyes railed at him. "You can't keep interfering like this! Just because you lost her doesn't mean the same fate will befall me!" The young man looked away then faced the camera again, showing a courage that made Malcolm's insides clench tighter. "I want you to know that I'm sending this up for review and I'm afraid it might reflect badly on you." The boy swallowed hard. "Damn you, Malcolm! She's been gone almost ten years. Let her go! She wouldn't have stopped me."

Malcolm ducked his head. Nathaniel Rose was the younger brother of the woman he once thought that he would marry. A friend in the recruitment department had sent Malcolm a note that Nathan was applying to Starfleet. Knowing how dangerous stellar exploration was, it didn't seem right that the Rose's might lose their son as well as their daughter. He had stepped in, putting a stop to the application before it truly began. He'd done it just after he had returned from the Expanse, when the knowledge of just how bad space travel could be was fresh in his mind. Bless bureaucracy for moving like a wounded snail, but Nathan had just found out.

He was doing the right thing, Reed told himself. Nathan should remain with his family. But it didn't stop the young man's frustration and rage from tearing a hole inside him. He dumped his plate in the garbage and headed to the armory.

* * *

_Tucker's Quarters_

It had been Hess who overheard T'Pol giving him leave for some recreation time, and it had been Hess who had planted a foot up his butt and told him to get the hell out of Engineering. "I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here! This is ridiculous! You look like crap and you're mean! I don't like you when you're mean! It makes me cranky! " There had been more to her litany, but that was the gist of it.

So Tucker passed through the Mess Hall, bringing home a piece of pie and a cup of coffee and planned to sift through his letters from home. As much as he missed his family he dreaded hearing about their adjustments to the new house. It just reminded him that there wasn't an old house anymore.

With luck the first notice that popped up on his screen was a reminder that he'd programmed into his computer four years ago.

"Son of a bitch!" he murmured. "He's not getting away with it that easily!"

Setting aside his own correspondence, Trip sent out a flurry of messages across the ship and got a fair number of responses in a short time. He checked the time anxiously. He would have just about enough time to get it done.

If it didn't require holding anyone at gunpoint, he conceded. He pondered carrying a phase pistol, but then again, he wouldn't like to go up against Reed in a firefight. He'd just have to hope for the best. Maybe he'd pull rank; that could work too.

* * *

_Armory_

Tucker slipped into the phase cannon assembly, thinking it was odd to find Reed in here. Unless there was serious damage, the only reason he climbed in here was to be alone to think. But Tucker couldn't decide what made Reed seek out solitude. They'd had a pretty good day.

"Hey!" he called out, ducking to avoid the low-hanging conduits and pipes.

"Hey, yourself!" Reed responded, picking up a different tool and giving a good twist on a piece of hardware.

"I have to ask what the hell you think you're doin' in here," Tucker demanded with a fair amount of irritation in his tone. He couldn't stop the smirk though.

"I'm working," Reed responded blandly. He raised an eyebrow at Trip's playful tone; it hadn't made an appearance recently.

"It's your _birthday_," Tucker told him. "Nobody works on their birthday."

"You worked on yours," Reed pointed out stubbornly.

"I took time out for cake," Tucker corrected him. "Just like you're going to do."

"I really don't want to stand in the Mess Hall and listen to a round of happy birthday songs," Reed sighed heavily. He had actually forgotten it was his birthday and he was almost disappointed that Tucker hadn't too.

"Then let's get dinner somewhere else," Trip suggested.

"Trip, I don't..."

"We're leaving in an hour," Tucker cut him off. "Get your party hat out, Reed. That's an order." His white teeth flashed widely in the darkness of the maintenance tunnel.

Reed didn't have the heart to turn him down. He didn't have the rank either. He started tossing tools back into his tool kit and cursing whichever crewmate had ratted him out. He hated birthdays. This was going to be an exercise in awkward dinner conversation and public scrutiny.

There was no way this was going to end well.


	9. Chapter 9

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 9

* * *

_Ulnythia: Champion City_

_One World Bar_

Apparently anybody who was anybody made it to the One World Bar in Champion City. The tavern was crowded with a variety of people in a variety of colors. The music was pleasant, the food was not bad and the company was excellent. As far as birthdays went, Reed had had worse. He was a little concerned what Tucker might be up to when he excused himself and disappeared in the crowd but there had been no chance to object. Several of his other companions had departed for the moment as well, leaving Malcolm alone at the table with Hoshi Sato. In spite of the last minute invitation, she had been happy to accept. Her fingers toyed with the remnants of the leafy item that served as garnish on the alien plate while her face looked pensive.

"What's on your mind, Hoshi?"

"I was just admiring my dress," she admitted, looking a bit sheepish at being caught.

"It's lovely," Malcolm nodded agreeably.

"It's a _Merveilleux_," she admitted.

"Er, yes. It's very nice," Reed repeated awkwardly.

Hoshi smiled. "You don't know anything about fashion, do you?"

Reed looked down at his gray suit that he had owned since college and the red shirt that he might have had longer and tried not to look hurt. "I guess not."

"_Merveilleux_ is a designer label," Hoshi explained. "It's a pretty expensive one too. I could work for a whole year and not be able to afford one." She smoothed the black satin fabric over her lap. "Andie just gave me this one." She chewed on her lip. "She gave Liz hers too."

Malcolm had a vague recollection that Liz was wearing a blue dress with a big skirt. He remembered because she kept complaining about how it was too fluffy to stay under the table during dinner and she was afraid it would get stained.

"I guess the Brainerd family fortune must be quite extensive," he remarked when it looked like something needed to be said. It had never occurred to him before that Andie might have come from wealth. She sure didn't act like any of the entitled people he'd ever met.

"She said they had been gifts," Hoshi explained. "But she just gave them away like they were nothing. To be honest I'm not sure she knows what they're worth. I feel kind of bad about taking it." It was a strapless black satin dress with just a hint of pale pink peeking at the top and at the bottom. It fit her like a glove and she felt beautiful in it. Her dark hair fell over pale shoulders offering brief glances at the sparkling pink jewels in her ears.

"I don't think she wears anything but scrubs and tee shirts," Malcolm noted. "I doubt she'll worry about a dress or two." He was happy to see her slight smile. He hadn't thought much about the Brainerd family circumstances before; he'd make a mental note to look it up tomorrow.

Across the room, Travis Mayweather jerked to attention as the door to the lavatory swung open and discharged the med-tech in the pretty blue dress. "I was beginning to think you'd fallen in!" he joked.

Liz Cutler grinned wryly. "I'm not quite that clumsy," she remarked. "You didn't have to follow me over here."

"I couldn't let one of the prettiest girls here tonight go off on her own. One of these big bohunks might just snatch you up!" His attempt at flattery fell like a lead balloon when Liz blanched. "I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to remind you of your assault the other day!" His words fell over each other and he flinched as he heard the words that kept coming out even after he tried desperately to stop them.

Cutler took pity on him. "That's okay, Travis. It's nice of you to look out for me." She twisted her hips a little, making the stiff taffeta skirts swirl around her. "Besides I do look good tonight!" The square neckline was held in place by wide straps over her shoulder. The fitted bodice gave way to the full skirt, and on behalf of their Oraman sponsors, she wore a green beaded bracelet on her wrist and twinkling green barrettes in her hair. To finish, she wore a long scarf around her neck in bright green blended with the same deep blue of her dress.

"Yes, you do!" Travis agreed with a grin. He offered his arm, and she took it with a smile. They made their way back to the table through the crowds of taller people that made the room seem extra claustrophobic. Most of the locals preferred to group together with their favored team, but the humans and a few other visitors were willing to mingle with everyone. It was a colorful gathering, full of things to see.

They were just settling in when Tucker came back with something bulging under his arm. He just managed to place it safely under Reed's nose before he dropped it, along with a several items wrapped in fabric. "Happy Birthday, Malcolm!" he grinned, quite pleased with himself.

The others offered their best wishes and Malcolm was grateful when they promised not to sing in public. They did withdraw from a variety of pockets a few small items to join the other presents in front of him. Hoshi gave him a book on the history of warfare in the Ulnythian Provinces, along with a data disk containing the English translation. Travis offered a small blade with an ornate hilt, intended for use as a letter opener. Liz presented him with a bronze rock carved in the shape of a scarab beetle, admitting that she got it on a tour of the Duarthan Province the day before. Trip bestowed a bottle of bourbon with a quiet remark that it came straight from the captain who was too tired from his earlier outing to make a second trip to the planet.

Malcolm tried to hide his expression when Trip's gift turned out to be a shirt with a print almost as loud as the one the engineer currently wore. He thanked them all graciously before pulling the lid off the covered dish sent down by the ship's cook. He found a small pineapple upside down cake just large enough for half a dozen pieces and Hoshi helped him cut and serve the pastry. In the short time that Reed had taken to open his presents, Travis had caught the eye of a pale woman from the Yaochet Province and invited her to join them for cake, ignorant of the raised eyebrows and amused smirks of his dining companions.

After the cake was finished, a band began making enough noise in the far corner to make conversation impossible throughout the tavern. A waiter cleared the table of debris while Travis grabbed his new date and headed for the dance floor. After an unsuccessful bid to get Malcolm to join them Hoshi and Liz declared that men were no longer necessary and headed for the dance floor as well, leaving the two men alone.

"Thank you for the party, Trip," Malcolm began. Years of instructions on manners had been drilled into his head by his father.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Trip nodded. There hadn't been much time for celebrating recently and he was happy for the chance. "Things have been topsy-turvy for a while. It's good to see you smile."

"Yeah, I was just thinking the same thing," Reed agreed. That's as far as he got when his attention was directed elsewhere.

A group of tall, blond, rowdy athletes had just entered and they made a big scene as they paraded through the crowd. Servers scattered before them, hurrying to make room for the winners of the day. They were escorted to a private area just off the main room, separated by filmy green curtains. Flagons of beverages and platters of food were brought out. Pretty girls pranced by to ask for autographs with their books out, and to ask the athletes for more with the look in their eyes. Only one member of the Oraman group looked completely disinterested in the fuss; she was smaller and daintier than the large men and seemed happy to sink into the background.

"Malcolm!"

The birthday boy jerked his head around to find the engineer smirking at him. "You haven't heard a word I've said since she walked in!" he accused loudly.

"I can't hear a word you've said because the music's too loud!" Malcolm pointed out. He had to shout to be heard.

Trip chuckled and signaled the server for another round of drinks. It was easier to sip than chat and they watched the flurry of activity in companionable silence. The engineer pointed out, during a momentary lull, the pretty girls in orange with the flaming titian hair and Malcolm nudged his friend when Hoshi and Liz waved at them from the dance floor. There was another member of their party dancing out there; Andie had slipped away from Areyu's watchful eye to use the lavatory, and had detoured to the dance floor when she returned. She and Travis were having too much fun performing a set of steps that seemed to be well-known to several other pairs on the floor. They were laughing and having a great time.

Until Areyu's hand landed on her shoulder. The smile fled from her face as she listened to the words he spoke directly into her ear. That strong hand gripped just a little too tight on the fragile shoulder and Malcolm didn't realize he was pushing back from the table until his chair hit the wall, pinning him in. He expected to find that the feisty little woman had snapped that pincher-like arm right off, but instead she was smiling meekly and letting the alien lead her back to the curtained area containing the other members of the team. They were beating their chests and chanting rigorously about the supremacy of the Oraman team. Areyu joined them but in spite of his insistence that the doctor remain at his side he paid her little attention, leaving her to glance wistfully at the dance floor.

He noticed Trip looking at him with a silent, raised eyebrow. Realizing he had half-risen from his chair he latched onto the closest excuse. "I need another drink!" Reed shouted to be heard. He finished extricating his body from his chair and headed for the bar. Since it was crowded it took a long time to get through to signal the bartender.

A hand slid across his shoulder. "Are you a fan of the Games?"

Malcolm turned to find a dark-haired, voluptuous woman barely dressed in a little red dress staring at him with naked interest.

"They're very interesting," he remarked politely.

"You are here with the Oramans?" she pressed closer.

"No, I'm here with my friends," he answered. His attention was once again distracted from his surroundings by the human woman who held his attention. She still seemed to be arguing with her host who continued to delay her retreat with his filthy, dirty hands. "Excuse me, please," he muttered to the woman in red. He failed to notice her disappointment as he drew closer to the scene ahead of him.

"Oh, come on! The shuttle's just around the corner!" Andie begged, dragging her green albatross behind her.

"It is not safe for you to walk alone and I cannot escort you at this time. You must return to my side. We will depart shortly." Areyu sounded determined.

"You said we would depart _shortly_ over an hour ago," she pointed out in frustration. "I'll be fine."

"You must not walk alone," Areyu insisted.

She rolled her eyes and in doing so, caught sight of Reed. "Lieutenant?" she waved and he obligingly came right over. "Lieutenant Reed can escort me back to the shuttle," she announced smugly.

"I do not think..." Areyu began to protest.

"He's a security officer! It's what he does!" she pointed out.

"Actually I'm chief of security," Malcolm pointed out. "I'm the best at what I do. She will be in good hands."

"See?" Andie was triumphant. "Now you won't have any further distractions pulling your attention away from your game replay. And I'll see you tomorrow," she hastened to add before he could protest further. She blew a kiss from her fingertips before flouncing around and heading for the door.

Reed refused to stop the self-satisfied smirk before following her through the crowd. Trip was not alone at the table; a petite figure in purple had joined him, but he glanced up long enough to acknowledged Malcolm waving at him and offered a knowing eyebrow at Reed's companion. Reed's dour look only seemed to encourage his grin, so Malcolm just slipped out through the doors.

Outside the noise was blissfully dulled.

"Oh, thank the Great Bird!" Andie sighed with relief, rolling her head around her neck.

"I'm glad I could be of service," Reed agreed. He gestured with his arm and she followed where he indicated. They began to pick their way through the crowds outside.

"Sorry to salt your game in there," Andie turned to look at Reed.

"What game?"

"The girl," Andie prompted with a barely concealed flash in her eye.

"What girl?" Reed repeated. He was honestly confused. "I was getting a drink at the bar."

"Sure, if that's how you want to play it..." The gleam was fully visible now. "You should have put your finger up her nose to indicate your willingness to mate."

"You heard about that, did you?" Reed refused to stifle his grin.

"I am going to kill you slowly for that," she promised easily. "You will pay dearly!"

"After I went to all the trouble to rescue you from Areyu?" He pouted playfully. "Surely a little nose play isn't all that troublesome?"

"I spent four days avoiding his picking finger! Let's see how you like it," she giggled, trying to reach out and touch his nose.

"Stop it!"

"Just a little pick!"

"Cut it out!"

"Come on!" she taunted. Her foot tangled in a cobblestone and she stumbled.

Reed was forced to reach out and slip an arm around her waist before she hit the ground.

"Thanks," she breathed, ceasing the nostril nonsense. When she had her footing back they continued their progress. "I really do appreciate this. If I had to sit in there and listen to one more round of verbal replay I was going to kill somebody."

"I'm chief of security. I'm glad to avert a murder."

"It might have been a suicide. I wasn't about to be picky."

At the corner of the street, Malcolm turned to the right, where the shuttle pods waited but turned back when he noticed Andie wasn't with him. She had stopped with her head turned down the long road that led to the outer walk. There was a lot of commotion going on down there and the fracas made her pause.

"It's almost time for the fireworks," Malcolm noted, checking his chronometer.

"Fireworks?" she repeated, trying hard to stifle the curiosity in her voice.

"Every night around this time the Khinerans put on a fireworks display," Malcolm explained. "Haven't you seen them?"

Andie grimaced. "I've been tied up with Areyu."

_That put a picture in his head that he would like to be rid of._ "We could go have a quick peek, if you like," Malcolm offered. When she hesitated, he pointed out that the shuttle wasn't scheduled to leave for another ten minutes. He could see the moment she decided to do it and extended his arm for her to lean on. The spindle that led to the outer walk was lined with stalls and displays for the Khineran and the Oraman Provinces and there was plenty to look at on the way.

They weren't just any fireworks, bursting into flames and sinking to the ground in ashes. They had movement and shape and told a whole story. After so much time spent on the planet, Andie could correctly interpret the Ulnythian history unfolding in sky fire that transformed into a rainbow of colors moving in tandem. She turned around to ask Reed how it was possible to detonate so many charges but he wasn't behind her. A quick survey found him at a booth nearby turning a green teapot over and over in his hands.

"Only ten credits!" the merchant declared with pride. "It is hand-crafted by the finest artisans!"

"Ten credits!" Andie broke in over Malcolm's shoulder. "For this thing? It's got a crack in it!" She pointed to an invisible line. "I wouldn't pay five credits for this thing!"

"Andie!" Malcolm was shocked. He started to apologize to the vendor, but he was too late.

The seller gasped in outrage. "Hand-crafted merchandize means that each piece has its own pattern! No two are alike! Each is special! Five is an insult; I could not bear to part with such a piece for less than nine!"

"Nine? It's tiny!" Andie glowered. "He could barely get a sip out of it before he has to brew another pot! Six!"

"Six! My mother's own hands made that particular piece! It is very valuable to me! I could not part with it at all, not for less than seven."

"You expect him to carry this 'priceless object' around in his hands all night?" Andie countered. "Maybe we'll stop by later when we're done having a good time!"

In the end Andie and the seller agreed to a price of seven credits, if he promised extra wrapping to keep it safe. Only then did she turn to look at Malcolm and shrug. "You know if you think it's _worth_ seven." She glared at the vendor and he huffed in her direction.

Reed restrained his smirk. "Well it is hand-crafted," he admitted with a nod. The vendor clapped his hands in glee and took the green pot to wrap it up as promised while Malcolm handed over the coins he'd acquired. For all the traveling they did it wasn't often that he got the chance to bring home souvenirs, and his mother would love the little glazed teapot. Malcolm accepted the package which had also been tucked into a cloth sack with loops and turned away from the booth.

"At least we found a use for your irascibility," he remarked. Then he ducked as she playfully swatted at his shoulder. "Where did you learn to haggle like that?" he mused.

"I traveled extensively with my father," she shrugged then froze. She still hadn't told Reed about that part of her childhood. He was bound to catch the slip of her tongue and demand an explanation and then they would start arguing and cause a scene, and Areyu would want to know what she was doing shopping when she told him that she was heading back to her cabin due to a headache which had lessened considerably once she got outside but it was coming back now.

Malcolm had taken a couple of steps before he realized she wasn't next to him. He turned around and noted the way she shifted from one foot to another. "Those sandals weren't made for walking," he pointed out. "Do you want to go back?" He checked his timepiece. "I think we missed the shuttle and now we'll have to wait for the next one."

Andie stared at him for a long moment. He had missed her slip of the tongue, possibly due to the crowds and noise around them. The worry line faded from between her brows and she smiled somewhat ruefully. "I should never have opted for fashion over comfort." The tall heels were a far cry from her usual sneakers and boots and her feet were blistering nicely but they had been approved by Areyu for their bland gold color.

"Wait here," Malcolm instructed, pointing to a rock support around the tall light towers that spread illumination over the street. Along the walk other patrons were resting on the supports. Malcolm disappeared into the crowds and left her alone, returning a few moments later with a small package in his hands. Kneeling down in front of her he gently slipped off one torturous apparatus and soothed the welted skin with his hands. Andie couldn't stop the sigh of relief until he slipped a different shoe onto her foot.

Her eyes popped open and she looked down in surprise. "You bought me shoes?" She sounded puzzled.

"You can't walk around in those," he pointed out, offering the same ministrations to her other foot, gently rubbing away the stresses imposed by bad footwear.

"But...I can buy my own shoes." She still sounded perplexed, which was difficult given the relief he was offering her feet. Her whole body relaxed at the gentle contact.

"You saved me more than their purchase price on the teapot," he pointed out, rising to face her.

"Well..yes, but buying shoes is...so personal!"

He'd never thought of it like that before. "I think the foot rub is more personal than the shoes but you don't seem to mind that!" He watched her bite her lip. "Don't you feel better?"

She nodded.

"Then just say 'thank you, Malcolm,' and forget about it," he waved away further protests. "Maybe I'll let you buy me a cup of tea later to make us even."

She looked down at her new shoes. They were made of thin material that molded to her feet. They were red, but the wide strap covering her toes was covered in cheap purple beads in the shape of a dragon. "They don't match what I'm wearing," she grinned.

"Then we'll find you something else to wear," Malcolm told her. He enjoyed the delighted smile she sent his way. As she looked around their current location with a second wind, his smile faded slightly. He had caught that slip of her tongue and wondered what it meant. _She traveled extensively with father; when would she have had the time in a strict girl's boarding school? A boarding school that he knew didn't really exist_, he reminded himself. Andie turned to smile back at him and Reed forced his face to relax. It was his birthday and it was enough to have removed her from the influence of the overly confident Areyu; there would time for the rest later.

Although there had been no formal discussion about exploring the city, neither Andie nor Malcolm made any noises about heading back. They continued their walk along the gently curving boulevard that surrounded the city; it was the element that connected all seven sectors of the city together, like the pie crust surrounds a pie. The Ulnythian Games was the highlight of this world's accomplishments, and vendors and advertisers from all over the globe brought their wares and services to buy or sell or trade. Each Provincial Sector offered up their most intriguing offerings, which vied for space with restaraunts, vendors and of course, the gambling booths.

They left the green Oraman sector behind and the Khineran Sector assaulted the eyes with their warm orange tributes. While the Oramans offered statues of present and former champions, and pennants and other fan merchandise, the Khinerans specialized in volcanoes and machinery and offered a range of objects, including machines in a variety of sizes and lava rocks. There were book sellers and jewelry vendors and food markets and shops that sold useless tchotchkes in Khineran colors. Miniature machines rumbled and squeaked in a small racetrack while spectators placed wagers. Fire eaters wandered the wide street, along with pyrotechnicians throwing small fireworks into the air. Andie picked up pamphlets from nearly every vendor and Malcolm found her eyeing the barbecue pits and fire dancers with interest. He dragged her away before she got the crazy idea of joining them and burning her feet off.

When they'd looked at everything in this sector, they caught a ride on a passing conveyance. Although crowded, Reed managed to score a standing space on the back by holding onto a vertical pole. He reached down and slipped an arm around Andie's waist for support and tried not to notice the way loose tendrils of hair tickled his cheek.

They stepped off the carriage in the Duarthan Sector, populated with surly miners with square faces. Earth colors brought the mood from violent orange to pastoral browns. Polished rocks and gemstones were offered, along with an extraordinary array of vegetables and bags of fertilizer. Andie sipped something out of a pottery mug and winced. "Yum. Blech. Try this." She offered it to Malcolm, who looked at her as though she was crazy. "Try it," she demanded and he sipped politely.

"It tastes like..."

"Wet fertilizer," she nodded. "That's what I thought."

"Then why did you make me drink it?"

"I needed a second opinion!" she said as though it was obvious. Andie picked up literature about the dangers of soil erosion, the useful aspects of good fertilizer and a dissertation on the seismic disturbances in the province, along with a bag of polished stones and a sample of dirt. Malcolm bought a wind up toy that showed a Duarthan male digging his shovel into the earth before him; he thought his sister would get a kick out of it.

She flagged down a small pedal-cart drawn by a Zitheran to get from the Durathan Sector to the soothing blues of the Aquaran Sector, known for its refreshing waters and island life. The outer rim of the Aquaran Sector offered an excellent view of the Ulnythian Sea beyond and Reed tried not to turn green, even as he swore that the ground under his feet swelled as though adrift on a wave. Merchants peddling fountains and irrigations systems oscillated between hawkers offering sailing ships and fishing notices. Musicians played something that sounded like calypso music and Andie couldn't help but tap her feet as they passed. Webbed fingered residents offered seafood and Reed automatically accepted a food sample from a pretty woman, but Andie snatched it from his hands before he could put it in his mouth. "You don't want to eat that," she cautioned, showing him the medical scanner in her hands. He was allergic and grateful that she was keeping track, but the gratitude faded into annoyance when she popped the morsel into her own mouth with a grin. "Delicious!"

He forgot about her theft when they stopped to watch a series of fountains emitting sprays of water, in nothing short of an aquatic ballet. Andie stopped at a clothier's and picked out a skirt in the seven hues of Ulnythia, and immediately pulled it on. She picked out a second length of fabric and tossed it around her shoulders as a shawl, reducing her presence as an Oraman guest by covering up their clothes. If it weren't for the heavy green bracelet on her wrist, she would have blended in as just another tourist.

Convincing Reed to step into a canoe for a ride along a "raging river" to the next Sector took a lot of begging, but Andie was unflagging and Reed gave in, but only because the water was less than forty centimeters deep. It was a lot more enjoyable than he would have expected, and he was sure the amount of fun he was having had nothing to do with the fact that he had to stretch his arm over the back of the boat and around her shoulders in order to fit in the conveyance that shuffled him along the track like a ride in an amusement park.

The Yaochet Sector offered demonstrations in wind energy, which included one game of throwing your body onto a machine that emitted such a powerful gust of air that you bounced back into the air like a skydiver. There were tasty snacks as light as air, and kite sellers and baskets woven from the native yellow grasses. Malcolm picked up a box and realized it held a sweet inside. He offered the treat to Andie and she closed her eyes in bliss and gobbled the whole thing in a single gulp.

"You'll make yourself sick eating like that," he noted wryly, paying the vendor for the snack.

"I'm starving!" she assured him.

"When's the last time you ate?" he inquired.

"Oh, I don't know," she waved away his concerns, as she always did. "When did we have that Chamomile Rodent?"

That had been almost two weeks ago on Renaisterre. It was a joke; he'd seen her eating since then, but he didn't find it particularly funny. He hadn't seen her dine from the buffet at the game this morning, and if she had been in the company of Areyu all day, it was possible that she hadn't had another opportunity; it looked like the Oraman contingent had been getting ready to dine in the One World Bar when she escaped their clutches. Areyu should have been taking better care of her!

Malcolm sighed in frustration. "Come on," he urged her ahead of him toward the smell of cooking food.

The Zitheran enclave was a welcome respite. The quiet folks were devoted to serving the needs of others. There were vendors offering a wide variety of services; from backward benches where therapists offered massages to booth after booth offering laborers willing to plant your garden with bulbs, to handymen willing to maintain your plumbing or crew your ship, to skilled maintenance workers offering to fix your vehicle or ship or kitchen stasis units. It was much quieter here. Malcolm flagged down a two-seated conveyance pulled by a hearty Zitheran. "Can you recommend a restaurant?" Reed inquired. Andie hadn't quite settled in and nearly fell on top of him as the buggy pulled away. It made her giggle and Reed enjoyed the sound until their guide dropped them off in the Gamaran Sector at a red draped tavern with outdoor seating.

Their driver signaled for a table and an efficient man in a purple vest led them to a quiet corner and offered them menus, along with a handheld device that translated the items into the language of the diner, courtesy of the Khineran and Gamaran Province, according to the note on the back. There had been many such notices like that. The raging rapid vessel had been dug out by Durathans, the water was provided by Aquarans, and the machinery had come from Yaochet. The firedancers carried a sign that noted which Provinces had contributed to their gear. Even the plates the dined on noted that they came from Duarthan clay and Zitheran potters. The only name lacking was Orama; they were responsible for the betting kiosks that glittered and rang out on every corner, but Andie hadn't seen their name anywhere else. She pushed aside thoughts of Orama and looked at the menu.

"What's the One World Platter?" Andie asked when the waiter returned with beverages.

"I'm afraid that item is only available for parties of seven or more," the waiter explained.

"What if I'm very, very hungry?" Andie inquired pleasantly. The waiter didn't look like he was bemused by her.

"Pick something else, Andie," Reed told her.

"Tell you what," Andie leaned forward on her elbows. "You've got quite a line out there," she gestured to the front door. "Why don't you go over and ask any singles or small parties if they'd like to share a One World Platter with a couple of off-worlders?"

"That is just not done, Lady," the waiter refused politely.

It didn't stop Andie. She leaned back in her chair and hung her head over the railing. "Hey! Anybody want to share a Platter with me and my friend? My treat!" The waiter planted his face firmly in his palm as a handful of people shuffled their feet in her direction. When she had the minimum number she handed the menu back to their waiter. "One World Platter, please," she beamed.

Reed was pretty sure that someone from the kitchen would be spitting in their food.

"If you don't mind," the Duarthan male objected. "The _kricka_ gives me indigestion," he apologized to Andie. "Would you bring me a plate of _bogs_?" The tired waiter nodded.

"_Manga, _too," the Aquaran added and finally the waiter headed off.

"So, I'm Andie and this is Malcolm," she started the introductions. There was an older Duarthan couple, both school teachers and retired. He liked to fill the quiet moments with highlights of historic Games of the past. The Aquaran was a fish breeder and was traveling alone. Two of the young boys were Yaochet and one was Khineran. They looked like they were in their early teens and trying desperately to come off as much older. Andie flirted and teased them just to watch them blush.

"I've never known anyone to eat so much," one of the boys told her as he watched her devour the first course, courtesy of one of the Provinces. Malcolm looked suspiciously at his but Andie shrugged and tossed back a bite without fear of saliva. Malcolm shrugged and did the same.

"What did he call that? _Kaka_?" she noted with interest, swirling the food around on her taste buds.

Reed nearly spit it back out. "It tastes like..."

"Swamp root," Andie agreed with a wide grin. She tipped her cup back again and grimaced. "So does this," she decided before swigging another mouthful.

"You could stop drinking it if you don't like it," the Duarthan male pointed out.

"I could but I doubt I will," she giggled. "This is fun!"

"The ship has plenty of familiar fare on board. We could go," Reed pointed out. She pondered that for a moment and Reed wondered if he had just thrown a wrench into the pleasant evening.

"I'm not finished absorbing the local flavor," she announced finally, watching with interest as his shoulders relaxed. "We have food from the whole world coming up," she pointed out gleefully.

"Even if it tastes like swamp water?"

"Swamp _root_," she corrected, as though that made it taste better. "This one is better. You have a stalker." She barely paused between one sentence and the next but Malcolm caught the warning.

Instantly he was tense and alert. He followed the small gesture of her chin to find the voluptuous women barely dressed in red that he vaguely remembered from the One World Bar standing in the doorway. He relaxed. "She's probably just enjoying the _Kaka_," he joked, trying to ignore the feel of dark eyes sliding over his back.

Andie smirked. "If I'm salting your game, I'd be happy to leave you two alone."

"It's my job to see you safely to the ship," he squirmed. He was supposed to have returned her quite some time ago.

"I've been known to take care of myself from time to time," she noted dryly, waving an arm to signal someone. The other hand was dipping her fork into something orange.

"Put your hand down," he hissed. Reed had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that he knew who she signaled. Sure enough, the dark-haired woman approached their table cautiously.

"Are you looking for a table? We have room," Andie offered, gesturing at the seat next to Reed.

"You look as though your table is full," the woman purred, resting a hand on Malcolm's shoulder.

"Always room for one more," Andie assured her "I'm Andie. This is Malcolm." She introduced the rest of the table as well.

Reed stood politely and helped the woman into a chair between his and Andie's, feeling his previous enjoyment slip away. The teachers and fish breeders were happy to talk about themselves and the kids were just enthusiastic about everything. He didn't have to do much chatting. But now he'd have to make small talk with this woman and he didn't know what to converse about. He did recognize the feeling of her hand on his knee though and she offered him a very sultry smile.

"I am Grte. This is Gar," she replied, rolling her 'r's as a second man dressed in red squeezed in next to Andie. "Is it hard?" she inquired coyly of Malcolm.

"What?" he stammered, looking into the dark pools of her eyes.

"To read a foreign menu? Are the tastes what you expect? Do you like exotic fare?" Grte put her free hand on Andie's arm when she reached for the plate of yellow stuff that seemed to materialize from nowhere when they weren't looking. "You should not eat the _panko_ without the _bengala_. It changes the flavor."

"What's _bengala_?" Andie asked. The dark-haired woman pointed out a substance on another table and Andie nodded. The doctor waved her hand at the waiter who had taken their order; he was across the room taking another order. It didn't stop her. _"Excusez-moi, _mister!_ Uno plato, por favor!"_ she pointed to the green dish on the other table. He nodded and disappeared into the crowd. _"Grazie!" _When she turned back to her table, Malcolm's shoulders were shaking with laughter. "What?" she demanded easily.

"You spoke to that man in four different languages, and not a one of them was his own!"

"Eh! He knows what I mean," Andie waved away his protests.

"That remains to be seen," Malcolm noted.

"Zitheran waitstaff are quite competent," the Duarthan male interjected. "You will see."

Grte removed her hand from Malcolm's knee and toyed with her necklace. It was hard for him not to look at her ample cleavage as it was displayed nearly under his nose.

"You are Gamaran, yes?" Andie inquired, picking up her mug.

"Yes, and please do not drink that swill," Grte put her hand out to stop the doctor. "You have honored me with a seat at your table, and I will return the favor with a bottle of fine Gamaran wine. Our Province is well-versed on the more pleasurable aspects of life. We are known for our food, our wine, and our artistic endeavors. You have seen the sculptures that mark the corridors leading from Champion City? Those are our most revered relics."

"They're beautiful," Andie agreed. "Gamara Province is quite lush, I've heard?"

"You have heard correctly."

Dinner was a lot more fun than Reed was expecting. Grte and Andie kept up a steady stream of chitchat, comparing notes about localities and Provinces. The young boys left to meet their parents and the Duarthans excused themselves for not being as young as they used to be. They were joined by several friends of Grte's and wound up pushing tables together to make a larger seating arrangement.

Malcolm felt better now that he was seated next to Andie instead of across from her; for one thing Grte stopped touching him in ways that made him uncomfortable, although she never stopped touching. He noticed the Gamaran males were the same; apparently it was acceptable to touch everything and everyone around them.

Andie was a surprise. He only ever seemed to find her when she was antagonized or annoyed, but in this company she was relaxed and friendly. She asked inquisitive questions about everything and Malcolm never felt like he had to perform during the conversation, which made him comfortable enough to join in. This was the sort of relaxed companionship he had expected when he landed on Risa, although that trip had gone much differently than he had planned. This cultural exchange was what exploring was all about. Under the Gamaran tutelage the food was excellent and the wine was more than plentiful. Laughter broke out frequently.

A hand returned to his knee. Malcolm looked up to see the dark eyes and rosy complexion of the Gamaran female. "Would you care for another?" she questioned softly. For one second he thought she was coming on to him; just in time he realized she was only trying to refill his glass. He shook his head.

"Actually I think Andie and I are quite late and should be heading back to our shuttle," he broke in. The world was pleasantly fuzzy around him and he nearly tripped when he tried to stand up.

"You are leaving so soon?" Grte sighed in frustration and tilted her head back to look askance at Andie, who could only shrug and offer a sympathetic glance. She started to reach under the table for the mesh bag that held her purchases from the bazaar.

The diner had grown crowded and warm and the fresher air outside the diner was welcome. At some point Malcolm had removed his jacket, leaving his arms bare under his short red sleeves. For a moment the group stood quietly just drinking in the aromatic air. Until a rhythmic beat started up somewhere quite close and Andie's eyes lit up.

"Ah! The evening concert," Grte sighed happily.

"Is that _Rhyt'a Boccha_?" Andie queried excitedly. "I haven't seen them in concert in years! You're not really tired, are you, Malcolm?"

He was a sucker for women who looked at him with that same pleading expression. His companions didn't wait for his agreement; they just each grabbed one of his arms and hurried him across to the wide open square where the musicians were just tuning up.

Andie immediately dropped her parcels on the ground as soon as Malcolm claimed a cushion to sit upon and grabbed the hand of her companion, and dragged him into the center of the dancers. The steps seemed kind of tricky to Malcolm, whose vision was blurring just a little from the wine, but Andie seemed to keep up just fine. Malcolm's fuzzy brain tried to make him remember that she had spoken of traveling with her father, the great explorer. Malcolm's brain was unsuccessful in attempting to put together how she knew the dance and just gave in to the swirl of dancers.

"Do you like to watch?" Grte purred the question in his ear.

"It's very pleasant," he assured her. There was a fresh drink pressed into his hand.

"You do not like to participate?" she queried.

"Well, it's just that...they are very tall...and very fast." His words were just slightly slurred enough to make him lick his lips to make sure they were still attached.

"You like to go slow?" Grte inquired. Being a beautiful woman, even by the impressive standards of Gamaran women, she was unaccustomed to being ignored. But this man had not shown an ounce of interest in her at the bar or the restaurant or here as they shared this cushion. In fact the only attention he showed to anyone was to the female that frequently attended her rival Areyu.

The pieces clicked into place.

"Come with me," Grte demanded, rising and offering her hand. He protested, but she dragged him to his unsteady feet. She slipped a hand around his waist and directed him into the swirling stream of dancers, guiding his steps until they collided with another pair. "Excuse me!" she breathed. "This one is too slow. May I take yours?" She slipped her hands off Malcolm and placed them on Gar and twirled away, leaving Andie and Malcolm standing alone in the center of the ring.

"Would you care to dance?" he asked, offering a little bow.

"I might need a moment to catch my breath," Andie protested weakly. A server appeared at her elbow, offering cool beverages to all the dancers. She took two and handed one to Malcolm.

He found the idea disappointing. "But it's my birthday!" he protested recklessly.

Andie giggled. "You're kidding," she told him. A closer look at his face sapped away the disbelief. "You're not kidding! How come you decided to baby-sit me? You should be having fun!"

"I am having fun," he pointed out. "I just want a birthday dance."

"One second!" she promised, disappearing into the swaying crowds.

Grte was at his side in a heartbeat. "Did you run her away already?" she inquired curiously.

There was a squeak of a microphone held too close to the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen! My friend Malcolm is celebrating his natal day today, and it is a custom among my people to give the birthday boy something special."

"Is it your natal day?" Grte asked in surprise.

"Yes," Malcolm admitted, squirming. He didn't get any further than that before Grte slid her hands into his hair and pulled him in for a breathtaking kiss. "Ahem. Thank you," he expressed awkwardly.

"Celebrate away!" Andie cackled from the stage. "I'd like to dedicate this next song to you, Reed!"

"I'd like to pay my respects," admitted their Aquaran dining companion. She slid her damp hands around Malcolm's cheeks and kissed him drunkenly.

"That was lovely, thank you," he offered when he got the chance to breathe again.

"My turn!"

The Yaochet male planted a long kiss against Malcolm's mouth, and Malcolm could only sputter when it was over. "Yes, erm...thank you."

As the band began to play a rousing piece of music, Malcolm was spun around and around as strangers grabbed him and kissed him in a whirl of colors and scents. He tried to retain a measure of decorum but it was difficult. The Gamarans all tasted of intoxicating wine and used a lot of tongue. The Zitherans smelled of plums and shyly kissed his cheeks. The Yaochet left his lips feeling parched, but the Aquarans moistened his mouth again.

The world spun round and round like the weirdest game of Spin the Bottle until he finally landed in a pair of arms that only managed to hold him upright. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" Andie smirked. "Do you have any idea how many times Areyu tried to touch my nose?"

The world stopped spinning when she laughed. "Aren't you going to pay your respects to the birthday boy?" he teased, looking into her face.

Her eyes fastened on his mouth and for one long moment everything stopped being funny. He couldn't think of a single thing he wanted more than to kiss her. It took effort to drag her gaze from his lips. "I think you'd better shut up and dance," she told him. She was trying to sound saucy but it came out rather shaky.

Malcolm liked the way her voice broke when she tried to speak. She gasped when he grabbed her waist with one hand and gripped her palm with the other. He bobbed his head to catch the tempo, then spun her around in a series of well-executed turns that left her squealing with delight and clutching his shoulder. "Holy stars, Reed! You can actually do this!"

"Shut up and dance," he growled playfully in her ear, twirling to avoid another couple.

The wine and the music played together in concert to make the rest of the world fade into an undistinguishable blur. Grte faded into the background, as did everyone else. A serving girl made sure they had full glasses whenever they stopped which happened less and less often. Malcolm bent his head to hear Andie translate the lyrics she did know, and he enjoyed the way that her breath against his ear raised goose flesh on his arms. The entire world swirled in a blur of colors. Eventually the music changed, turned into something more primal. There was a heavy, sensual beat with rolling movements; all the dancers pressed in closer to their partners and the dancing turned into something that didn't look like it should be done in public.

What he felt now was a different kind of intoxication. Andie wrapped her arm around his neck and his hands pressed into her hips. Blood left his head in a rush to cause havoc elsewhere in his body, and the sudden dizziness caused his steps to falter. She stopped moving when he did and they stood still while the crowd eddied around them. His head dipped. Her chin lifted. Every nerve ending sang through his body.

BOOM!

The clap of thunder preceded the sudden deluge of cold water pouring down out of the heavens. Those left in the square squealed and ran for cover. Malcolm and Andie were no exception, although they stopped to gather up their purchases in the downpour. Grabbing her hand, Reed directed her through the chilly air, which seemed to sober him up pretty quickly. Rather than running wild through the streets they sought shelter in the recessed doorway of a darkened shop. He turned as his momentum carried them forward; his back hit the wall of the building and he grunted as the force of their flight drove her soft body into his hard enough to drive the air from his lungs.

Dragging her head out of his shoulder, Andie giggled wildly. "You've got smooth moves, Sparky!" she teased good-naturedly.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I..." That's as far as he got before his mouth pressed against hers in an unexpected and breathless kiss. Just as quickly he lifted his head. "Sorry," he apologized with less amusement and more confusion. "I..."

That's as far as he got before her hand tangled in the short hair on the back of his head and drew his mouth back down for another kiss. A light breeze brought a shiver between them when he lifted his head and gulped for air.

From their position in the recessed doorway they were hidden from the street, but a subtle shift pressed her body closer to him and with a strangled growl, he pushed her back and slightly to the right, secluding them deep in the shadows of the empty entry, using his own body to shield them from any prying eyes as he brought his mouth down to kiss her again much more thoroughly.

One hand tangled in her loose hair while the other pressed against the soft skin of her bare back. Her hands urged him closer while their tongues dueled together; fingers stroked the back of his neck while others moved down to slip under the hem of his shirt. The tactile sensation of skin on skin made his breath catch. Sensual textures smoothed away thought as her leg curled around his thigh. A moan left her throat and he secretly thrilled at the sound.

BOOM!

Somewhere far away a firecracker caused his head to jerk upwards. His hands had slipped under her shirt and questing fingers had just slipped over the slight raised bump of a scar that he had helped inflict. The memory of her wound would have cleared his head, but the firecracker did it first. Pulling back he could only gulp air into his lungs and wait for his nerve endings to stop screaming in protest at the broken contact as he leaned back. "I'm sorry," he gasped thickly after a long moment. He had no right to be drunkenly mauling her in public; that lack of respect was one of the reasons he was terribly annoyed with Areyu.

Andie couldn't know what sped through his mind. All she could see was the guilty expression on his face. She froze as her leg slid down the outside of his leg to take the floor again. "If you apologize to me one more time, I'm going to hurt you." Her voice was thick with passion, but it seemed to be cooling quickly.

"I'm...I can't," he told her. Monosyllables seemed all that he could manage at the moment, but there was a part of him that really wanted forgo conversation altogether and get back to what they had been doing a minute ago. He shivered in the breeze and realized his shirt was damp. She must be chilled to the bone, he thought. He looked carefully into her face to see if she suffered any other ill-feelings about what had just happened.

Andie pushed her hair back from her face and exhaled sharply. It seemed that Reed had a sudden change of heart about kissing her. _Maybe he liked quiet women_, she thought. She definitely wasn't quiet about anything. _Maybe he just decided that she was too much trouble_. Whatever had passed between them had fled. "No worries," she brushed away his silent question. "It's not the first time I had too much to drink and kissed a strange man. I think I'll live."

Her wry assertion that it was nothing important almost inspired him to shove her back up against that wall and change her mind. Instead Malcolm drew a shaky breath and refastened a loose button or two. Andie smoothed her skirt down over her legs and pushed away from him.

The open area where the band had played was empty. Malcolm checked the time and cursed under his breath. The Yaochet and Aquaran Province worked together to provide reliable weather service; he remembered the announcement. An automatic weather machine regulated precipitation, turning on the sprinkles when it was late as a way of encouraging people to go home and get some sleep. If it was raining then the hour was very late indeed and he should have had her home much sooner than this.

Andie picked up the pair of rainbow colored bags that held the purchases they had made and slipped her feet back into the red slippers that Reed had purchased for her. Their trip back to the shuttle pod was completed in near silence. They weren't that far away, having made nearly the entire circle in an evening.

Luckily the shuttle was waiting with its doors open and they climbed right inside. Travis Mayweather was the pilot on this journey and Malcolm silently cursed the overly eager man's penchant for putting his foot in his mouth. "Hey! I thought you guys left hours ago?"

Andie held up her bag and forced a smile onto her face. "Shopping," she grunted.

"What, you didn't get enough presents for your birthday?" Travis teased Reed, extending a hand to help another crewmember on board. He was ignorant of the funny look that Andie threw at the armory officer.

Malcolm shrugged nonchalantly, rising to take the navigator's seat when Ensign Carter arrived with Crewman Rostov. The doors were sealed and the shuttle began its ascent to the ship.


	10. Chapter 10

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 10

* * *

_Reed's Quarters_

_Early morning._

The knock on the door had turned into pounding by the time Malcolm dragged his body out of bed. The room rocked unpleasantly before it righted itself and he managed to get to the door lock before the horrific noise began again.

"Hey, Malcolm, are you ready for...what the hell happened to you?" Tucker stopped bouncing the bottle of bourbon back and forth and looked more closely at the armory officer.

Squinting against the light from the corridor, Malcolm tried to work up enough saliva to wash away the cotton that had taken root in his mouth. "Uh, there was drinking and dinner, then more drinking, then drinking and more dinner, then..." _He didn't need to go into all the details_, he decided. "Then more drinking. And here I am. Am I dead?" The question was full of hope.

"Nope," Tucker smirked.

"Damn, that's the wrong answer," Reed groaned. He shuffled across the room and fell back into bed.

Having had more than a few long nights in his life, Tucker tried to remember to be kind. "What you need is a big greasy breakfast, Malcolm. Let's go."

"Kill me. Kill me now." Malcolm's voice was muffled by his face buried in his pillow.

"If you're having trouble waking up, I could sing," Tucker offered with a devil's grin.

"Dear God!" Reed forced his body upright. "Anything but that," he begged. He made it to his feet again. "Shower first," he grunted, shuffling into his bathroom.

"I'll wait!" Tucker cheerfully announced. He set the bottle of bourbon on the desk as the lavatory door closed. It was the only present Reed had left behind at the restaurant, the rest of his gifts having fit in a series of pockets. It didn't seem that Reed had missed anything, if the bag full of goodies from the Ulnythian carnival was anything to go by. Tucker idly poked a finger into the parcel, noting some of the more interesting objects inside. He waited long enough to consider opening the bottle, but eventually Reed made it out of the room, and they started out for breakfast.

* * *

_Enterprise: Mess Hall_

Hoshi Sato plopped down at the table beside Andie Brainerd, who didn't raise her head from its position cupped in her hands. "Good morning, Doctor!" Hoshi greeted her cheerfully.

"Go. Away." Andie mumbled, wincing as she lifted her aching head and tried to target her coffee mug somewhere toward her mouth. The green bangle on her arm was weighing down the process.

"What happened to you?" Hoshi inquired. Her grin was subdued in sympathy.

"I _think_ it was called Gamaran wine, but I _know_ there was lots of it," Andie grimaced. She quit messing with her coffee mug and bit off a bite of toast and forced herself to chew around the pulse in her temples. "So far it seems to be immune to the Brainerd Remedy."

"Really? How interesting!" Hoshi sipped her tea delicately.

Andie glared at the ensign with as much heat as she could manage without splitting her head open. "No cat and mouse, Sato. Out with it."

"You and Lieutenant Reed left the One World Bar around 2100 hours. I returned to the ship around 0100 and you weren't yet aboard."

"You're keeping tabs on me?"

"I was concerned. You looked upset when you left." She didn't sound upset. She sounded like a cat sipping a full bowl of cream.

Andie pushed aside her hangover and tried to look like the professional she was supposed to be. "If you must know, there was a medical emergency," she replied haughtily. Instantly she regretted her own tone of voice; it echoed in her pounding head.

"There were no reports of injury," Hoshi informed her with a smile. "I checked."

"Oh, someone's gonna die," Andie grumbled.

"What was the nature of the medical emergency?" Sato pressed with ruthless amusement.

The cloud of cotton refused to allow her brain to assemble a plausible lie. "If I heard one more verbal replay of the game yesterday, my head would have exploded."

Hoshi giggled. "Explosives are definitely a security matter!"

"You can see why Reed was involved," Andie mumbled.

"Did he wrestle the dastardly Gamaran wine into submission for you?" Hoshi teased.

Andie's cheeks heated up as she recalled that it was not the wine that Malcolm had wrestled into submission. The memory made her too warm and Andie mustered a decent glare. "I hate you, Hoshi."

A voice called out a morning greeting to the room at large, and several other crewmembers shushed it immediately, and then followed the shushing with mumbled death threats. At least Andie wasn't the only person in this condition. She thought it made her case less noticeable.

"If I could drug the entire crew into silent sleep, I'd do it," she whimpered, putting her head down on the table and ignoring the boisterous crewmember. She poked at her dry toast dejectedly.

The noise in the room fell blissfully quiet as a lovely brunette barely dressed in red sashayed into the room and the men, in particular, took note of her entrance. She perused the room and found what she was looking for, sauntering to their table and sitting down without waiting for an invitation. Hoshi nodded at the marines who had escorted her and they withdrew to a discreet distance. "I am Grte," the woman introduced herself to the Comm. officer.

"Hoshi Sato," replied the linguist, holding out a hand to shake. "You must be the Gamaran vintner."

"I brought a remedy for Andie," Grte promised. She plunked a short glass onto the table top and filled it with something thick and scarlet.

Dr. Andie ignored every personal protection she had ever employed and gulped down the contents without checking the contents with her medical scanner or asking about side effects.

"Many outsiders unaccustomed to our wine overindulge and become ill the next day. We've created a cure." Grte helped herself to a piece of bacon from the doctor's plate, tasting timidly before swallowing it with effort. She wrinkled her nose and put the bite back down.

"Bless your little hearts," Andie wished fervently. It worked fast; she was able to raise her head without wishing for death.

"What you need is a good soak in the hot springs," Grte suggested. "You'll be perfectly fit by lunch time!"

"There's hot springs?" Andie inquired.

"Ask Areyu," Grte told her. "Each team has a pool set aside for their comfort."

"Sounds nice," Andie managed a nod. "Want to go with me, Sato?"

Hoshi finished her tea and rose with her empty plate. "I have to work this morning," she sighed. "But have fun!"

"I must return to the Games," Grte rose gracefully from the table. "I will see you there later today?" she inquired.

"Sure," Andie nodded. "Let me escort you to the airlock." Her new friend nodded agreeably and preceded her to the door with a walk that turned heads in the room.

* * *

_B Deck: Corridor_

After Tucker greeted the third person they met in the corridor with enthusiasm, Reed grumbled, "You are revoltingly perky this morning." They stepped into the open doors of the turbo-lift.

"I had a good time last night. Not as good as you, of course." Trip grinned as Reed glared. "You need a Brainerd Remedy this morning?" Dr. Brainerd's morning-after drunk remedy was a sure thing.

"Had one," Reed grunted. "Didn't work." She had sent the med-tech on duty to his quarters with a dose shortly after they arrived on the ship. He could still remember the thrill of hope when his door buzzer had sounded, followed by the sinking feeling when he saw the young man at the door. _So much for keeping his distance from her_, he thought. _There hadn't been much distance between them at all._ He might have been in danger of growing flushed were it not for the sudden movement of the lift; the shift of the small conveyance threatened to forcefully eject the contents of his stomach, but Reed managed to keep it inside for the moment. "What did you do after I left?"

"Hoshi and Liz and Travis did some dancing. There was a woman who sat down at our table and we talked." Trip looked sheepish. "Well, I talked and she listened. It was nice."

"All you did was talk?" Malcolm managed an eyebrow wiggle, but he wished he hadn't. It made the world go swirly.

"Yeah, her name was Zaftig," Trip supplied.

Malcolm stood straighter as they exited the lift. "I met her the other day when the Oraman's checked in."

"Did you get friendly?" Trip wondered. "I don't want to step on your toes." He reached out and hit the button to open the door to the Mess Hall.

"No, we just...Oh, God." The smell from the cafeteria triggered another gag reflex, and once again Malcolm struggled to hold back the tide. When he thought he had it under control he tried to step through the door and nearly trampled over the three women just leaving. Hoshi took one look at his green complexion and stepped out of the line of possible fire, leaving his sights set firmly on Andie Brainerd.

Her expression was unreadable. He marveled that she didn't feel as badly as he did, but before he could give it much thought, someone else stepped into his line of sight and laid a familiar hand on his chest.

"I have brought relief for what ails you," Grte purred.

For a moment he thought she was talking about Andie. It turned out she was referring to the vial of red liquid in her hand. She was pouring a dose into a small cup.

"You should take it," Andie told him succinctly. "Excuse me," she sidled past the men and moved away from them. Hoshi offered an apologetic smile and hurried after.

"She damn near ran me over," Trip noted in irritation.

Grte looked the engineer over from head to foot in one long perusal before meeting his gaze. "She has a big morning planned," she admitted. The pleasant smile she offered him could have melted polar ice caps in a heartbeat.

"Doin' what?" Tucker asked, turning on a bit of that southern charm that women seemed to like so much.

"She is planning to bathe with Areyu in the hot spring set aside for champions," Grte admitted. "It is very relaxing, especially to one in her condition."

"Condition?" Malcolm's hand was gripped so tightly around the small glass in his hand that it was a wonder it didn't shatter.

Grte looked like she was searching for the right phrase. "The morning after," she explained.

"Oh, _hangover_," Tucker supplied. "Yeah, there's a lot of that going around." He threw a sideways glance at Reed, and was disappointed when his friend didn't rise to the bait.

"Perhaps we will have time to talk later," Grte placed a hand on Tucker's chest. "Will you be at the Games?"

"I just might," he grinned. It seemed like a very long time had passed since he had been considered attractive to the opposite sex. Since he had no immediate prospects waiting, he decided there was no harm in watching her tantalizing saunter away. Her voluptuous swagger was interesting, but he found he was comparing her walk to the lithe movements of someone else and he felt a little off-kilter. He was just about to turn back and suggest some breakfast when Reed thrust the empty vial in Tucker's hand.

"I've changed my mind about breakfast. I don't think it's a good idea for me," he announced and stomped down the hall toward the turbo-lift.

Tucker sighed. He had a long day of diagnostics ahead of him. The work would go a lot faster with a hearty breakfast, but he hated to eat alone. He stepped into the room and found a table with an empty seat. Waving at Rostov, he filled a plate and plopped down with the crewman. It was a good way to start the day.

* * *

_T'Pol's Quarters_

T'Pol knelt on the meditation rug and concentrated very hard on stillness and inner peace. At the moment the only images her brain would conjure were of a raging inferno threatening to devour her room. She knew there wasn't actually a fire, but her meditative visions often took on symbolic characteristics, and it was up to her to focus her mind on the solution to the problem. It was taking more time than she would like, but she was working the fire into submission. The flames were no longer violently out of control; they were settling into the more sedate flame of a campfire in front of her. It was a start, she decided. In the non-meditative world, she recognized that her own body temperature was beginning to rise, a sure sign that she was not out of the woods with regards to her condition, but she was beginning to get her symptoms under control. She could even mentally engineer a bucket of water with which to put out her mental campfire. She tried not to think about how her unconscious mind made the container the same shade of blue as a pair of eyes she was trying not to think about. It irked her that he could intrude on this personal space to such a degree, but on the other hand, whatever calm he brought to her sense of well-being was working. The demons inside her were tamed for the moment.

Just then the buzzer sounded. Sighing deeply she rose and opened the door. She was surprised to see her visitor.

"Mind if I come in?" Archer asked. Chang was behind him and helped the captain maneuver the hated chair over the threshold. Then the security officer withdrew to wait outside. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

"What is your question?" T'Pol inquired. She tried not to sound impatient.

"I got some mail last night and I was quite surprised when Starfleet Command had nothing to say about my condition," he told her.

"I have not informed them yet," she answered simply.

He felt like he was kicking the gift horse in the teeth but he felt it ought to be asked. "Why not?"

"I felt it was prudent to wait until Dr. Andie had compiled all the relevant data on your condition," T'Pol answered. She blew out her meditation candles as he wheeled his chair further into her room. "How are you feeling today?"

"There's some stiffness," he admitted. "But it's manageable. I hear you've been working long hours."

"The crew has been very dedicated in their repairs." The Vulcan offered him a padd with the latest details.

Jon glanced at it. His green eyes took in her drawn expression. "How are you though?"

"I am...fine." There really wasn't anything else to be said about her condition at the moment. Now was not the time to spring her illness on him. _What if he made her stay in her room and rest? What if he made her go home?_ She wasn't sure which would be the worse option.

"I'm interrupting your meditation," Jonathan acknowledged. He was feeling rather awkward about hanging out in the quarters of his first officer, although he wasn't sure why. There was nobody else there but he felt he was intruding.

"I was just finishing," she admitted.

"I thought I'd get around the ship a bit today," he offered. "You mind if I keep this?" He held up the data pad she'd offered him.

"As you wish," she inclined her head.

There was something he couldn't put his finger on, something that just wasn't right. She said all the right words and she looked the part of a first officer relieved to be relieved of her duties by her commanding officer, but there was something else going on under the surface of her brain.

"If you need me, just holler," he told her. Wheeling around in a tight circle was getting easier, especially since he had attached a pack to the side and placed things like the data pad inside. He could lean forward, almost without pain, in order to ring the comm speaker. Chang opened the door and helped push Archer over the threshold. He stood back to let the captain propel himself through the corridor though.

T'Pol watched him go. She should be relieved. She should be excited. If Archer was up and around, even in his limited condition, she could start thinking about her own condition. It was only a reprieve; it would get worse. She was going to have to make some very tough choices. Or she was going to die.

Shaking her head to clear it of stray thoughts, she stepped into the lavatory and splashed water on her face. This was not the time to be making life-altering decisions. She should really wait until the captain had regained more of his strength. Yes, this could wait. She didn't have to think about it anymore right now. There was work to be done.

* * *

_Armory_

Malcolm tried to devote his time wisely at work, but all he could think about was that pushy green giant touching the doctor. Those thoughts were overlaid by his vivid mental recreation of the kiss. His hands had been sliding along skin last night. One hand had slipped under her shirt to feel the slight raised bump of her scar, but the other had been sliding along a smooth leg and nearing the curve of her derrière. Another moment and a minor alteration of clothing and they'd have been _very_ intimate. He could vividly recall her tone: _"It's not the first time I've had too much to drink and kissed a man. I'll live."_ And he was certain that Areyu would ply her with wine in that hot tub and couldn't decide whether or not she would give in. His treacherous brain happily switched out his slight form with Areyu's tall, muscled one in his mental recreation of last night. His teeth ground together and something sharp poked his hand.

He looked down at his work. He'd actually snapped the compartment door of the phase pistol off its hinges. This couldn't go on. Catching Lt. Truax's eye, he announced, "I'll be back shortly."

"Take your time," she answered dryly, inspecting the damage he was leaving behind. She was already talking to his back.

* * *

_Oraman Hot Springs_

_1120 hours_

Far away from the playing field, Lieutenant Reed rematerialized on a steep hillside far from civilization. He took a moment to absorb the view, which was marvelous, before following the trail a little higher. A stone temple was built there on the side of the mountain. It did not have any walls to impede the view, but was surrounded by an opaque privacy screen for the comfort of the bathers. He was tempted to charge up there and drag Areyu out by the scruff of his neck, but he forced his legs to walk at a normal pace.

To his surprise there was only one bather in residence at the moment. A deep hole in the earth was filled with dark water emitting thin wisps of steam. It bubbled and murmured invitingly. The pool was almost as tempting to his aching body as the solitary inhabitant. Hearing footsteps her wide eyes opened quickly but narrowed slightly when they recognized the intruder. She studied him silently. Their gray color reflected the deep water in the pool, but instead of emitting steam, her eyes gave off a distinct chill.

"Where is he?" Malcolm demanded. _So much for playing it cool_, he thought.

"Where is who?" she inquired curtly.

"Areyu," Malcolm spat the word out.

"Practice," Andie answered.

"Practicing what?" The answer should have been obvious. He knew that as soon as the words left his mouth. There were no other buildings here, not even to change clothing. Clearly he wasn't here with her.

Andie leered just a bit as she stretched out her arms to reach for a glass that rested nearby, conveying the idea that he was practicing something indecent that she would enjoy later. Her slender throat convulsed as it swallowed the cool, pale liquid, reminding him of the pathways his lips had followed the night before. Refusing to be sidetracked like that, he took in her appearance. The way she stubbornly refused to answer his question alerted him to the fact that she was annoyed.

"He's not here?" he repeated softly. He squatted down next to the water and rested his weight on the balls of his feet. He'd vowed that they would play a whole new ballgame yesterday, but this wasn't quite what he'd had in mind. _Or was it_, his crafty inner monologue asked.

"Nope," she confirmed. "He got detained by an emergency practice session, not that it's any business of yours."

"You seemed to make it my business last night!" He couldn't stop the retort from leaving his lips.

"You kissed me first!" she snarled.

"Yes, but you kissed me back!"

She shrugged indolently. "I like kissing."

_That was it? That was all she had to say? She liked kissing?_ He could only stare at her while intense frustration choked the words from his mouth. He tried to meet her gaze, but she kept her eyes on the pastoral view ahead of her; not on him. _Never directly on him_, he noted. She was really ticked off but there was something else just below the surface. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. With Andie it was never about the things she did say; it was always about the things that she didn't say.

"You're staring, you big perv."

_Although she had no trouble saying things that came to her mind_, he noted. "It's not a stare. It's a peek. A peek is not pervy." Now he was flirting with her; badly if her dark expression was anything to go by.

"If you're going to be a big horn dog, just remember that it's better to give than receive."

"What is that supposed to mean?" He looked confused. His anger had fled so quickly his head was spinning.

"If you're going to ogle, drop some trou so I can ogle too."

"I don't have a bathing suit," he answered automatically.

"Really?" she sipped her beverage. "I got mine for my birthday."

_So much for breathing normally. Or at all. She wouldn't really bathe in a hot spring on foreign soil without a stitch of clothing on, would she? Of course she would, _his lascivious mind leered.

"In or out, pal."

"Out," Malcolm stated clearly. "I think there are some things we need to discuss and I think we should probably keep this professional."

"Then I can't hear you," she told him belligerently.

"You can hear me fine," he pointed out.

"I'm here to relax. I can't hear anything outside of this soothing pool of water. If you want to talk then you have to come in." One toe peeked through the bubbling water almost directly under his nose. "Otherwise, get lost." That toe flicked some water at him and he dodged the droplets.

"You're being childish." He raised his voice so she would definitely hear him.

"I can't hear you!" she persisted. She actually stuck her fingers in her ears.

Without thinking his hands reached for his zipper. He told Truax that he'd be back shortly, but he didn't think they were quite done yet. His socks were tucked into his shoes, his uniform folded neatly on top and after a quick peek around to make sure they were still alone he pulled off his blue undershirt, leaving his chest bare to the fresher air. Light goose flesh rose from the change in temperature. His indecision about skinny dipping was answered when she rose up and turned her back, busying her hands with filling a second glass with pale yellow liquid, and he saw the few triangles that served her modestly. Leaving his boxers on, he sat down and slipped carefully into the bubbling water. There were ledges under the water that felt like smoothed stone. There was no floor in the center of the tub; the water must come up from the planet's core.

For her part Andie was hoping that goading Malcolm would send him stomping off, leaving her in peace to deal with the confusing events of last night, but instead he seemed prepared to join her. She fumed silently until he pulled off his shirt. He was very fit. To hide the sudden heat in her cheeks, courtesy, she hoped, of a random spike in the water temperature, she rose out of the water in order to refill her glass and courtesy allowed her to take an extra moment to fill one for him as well. By the time she turned back around he was safely ensconced in the water and she could safely offer him a drink.

Being trained to observe, Malcolm had to take note of the tiny black triangles of fabric held together by slender string that covered her body from the world before she sunk back beneath the frothing water. She was lean and healthy and he realized suddenly that swimming with her wasn't a good idea. He was glad for the cover the water provided, and he accepted the chilled glass reluctantly when she offered it, preferring to keep a cool head. To his surprise he found it wasn't spirits he was drinking; just a potent lemonade. It was very refreshing against the heat of the water.

"About last night..." he began hesitantly.

"There's nothing to talk about," she assured him, sipping her drink. She looked at him steadily. "It was just a kiss, right?"

"It started out as just a kiss," he agreed. "I think it got a little more complicated at some point."

"Nonsense," she objected softly, but she turned her head to the side when she spoke. After a moment she turned her head to look him in the eye. "Kisses aren't that complicated unless you want them to be. I'm assuming you don't?"

"No, of course not," he agreed. But saying it didn't really make him feel better.

Under the water something brushed his knee. He jumped. She grinned. "Relax, Reed," she chided gently. "Just trying to find a place to rest my feet."

Reed was the one to reach down until he caught one of her ankles and lifted the foot onto his lap. He took one final sip of his drink before setting it aside and performing a series of motions that mimicked what had happened last night. The foot massage, that is, not the other thing that they were trying hard not to think about.

"It's a shame Areyu had to miss this," he mentioned idly. "I'm sure he'll kick himself for it later." At her questioning glance, he explained. "Grte mentioned the hot springs and Amandrez told me where it was." His insides were churning at the thought of Areyu sharing a soak like this with her. He may not have dangerous intentions toward the doctor, but it was about time he started contemplating what exactly those intentions were.

A splash of water hit him in the face.

"What the hell?" he yelped, wiping the fluid away.

"I'm trying to relax and you're bringing Ulnythian business into this? You suck," she told him in no uncertain terms. "If you miss Areyu, you can find him on the practice field."

"I didn't say I was missing Areyu," Malcolm splashed water back in her direction. "I just thought you might be."

She palmed water at his chest. "You thought wrong."

The rest of the tension around his chest faded away. He grinned and splashed her again and she returned fire. It wasn't long before they were dripping and laughing.

"Truce!" she called out, pushing the sodden hair out of her face.

"_CHEGH-chew jaj-VAM jaj-KAK_!" he retorted with a smirk. The smirk faded away in an instant and was replaced by puzzlement.

His companion stopped too. "I didn't know you spoke Klingon," Andie noted with a funny look on her face.

"I don't," Reed replied in puzzlement.

"Then why did you say that?"

"I don't...?" Malcolm looked puzzled as though he was listening to something far away. "It's a battle cry."

"I know what it means," Andie told him quietly. "Do you?"

"_It is a good day to die."_

"Interesting, don't you think, that you suddenly speak Klingon when you don't speak Klingon?" Andie queried. "I was just thinking about that particular phrase."

"I assume you know how to speak Klingon?" Malcolm asked. "Of course you do," he answered his own question. "You learned on the ship with your father." Another flash of curiosity flew across his features. "When did you travel with...? You were twelve." She hadn't spoken, but he knew that he was right. The answer just popped into his head. "Tell me what I'm thinking," he told her.

At least she didn't ask him if he was crazy. "You're thinking about having tea in your aunt's cottage. Her teapot is in the shape of a rooster and you think it's gross to grab the tail in order to pour a drink. You don't say anything because it would make her unhappy." She tilted her head to one side. "How the hell did I know that?"

Andie looked at Malcolm and Malcolm looked back at Andie. "Oh, crap!" they muttered at exactly the same time. The exited the pool and started pulling on their clothes. Before they left, Andie dumped out the lemonade and filled the pitcher with water from the pool; the natural fissure whose inside looked like a natural rock quarry, had stopped bubbling as soon they exited. The sudden cessation of activity gave Malcolm the willies.

* * *

_Enterprise: Sickbay_

Andie studied the readout on the machine that had just timed out. "So there's nothing hinky about the citrus ade," she noted. Catching the gist of something, she added defensively. "Hinky is too a word." She went on, "Let's check the water sample." Instead of picking up the data screen, she stopped in mid-stride and tilted her head to one side.

Malcolm heaved a mighty sigh. "Stop listening to my thoughts," he growled. He'd been thinking about the bad things that seemed to happen whenever he got near water, and decided she didn't need to be present for those.

"Sorry," she apologized quickly. He knew it was difficult. The thoughts of someone else sprang into mind just as easily as they sprang up in his and keeping your mind completely blank required a lot of work. She picked up the new information. _"Hmmm. Single-celled, low rad, busy creatures…"_

"Did you just think water bugs?" Reed demanded to know. He could already feel his skin trying to climb off his body.

"Stop reading my thoughts," she countered easily. "Telepathic organisms," she went on, knowing that he was as interested in this outcome as she was. "We must have ingested them during the water fight, or maybe it was absorption. They seem to have latched on to parts of the internal…"

_I don't want to know the specifics, _he thought.

_Not harmful,_ she sent back. _Just chatty. _Out loud she offered, "They seem as curious about us as we are about them."

_Doubt it_, he grumbled.

"They're scared. They're transmitting telepathically to the few of their kind they can reach."

"The ones in our heads," he confirmed.

"Try soothing them," she suggested.

"What's going on?" Tucker entered the room with a handful of parts and took in their silent staring. "Am I interrupting?"

"No," they both refused at he same time. It was too suspicious to let go.

"Why are you wet?" He inquired.

"Fell in a lake," Andie supplied quickly. In her head, she heard Malcolm groan.

"Then how come you're only wet in certain places instead of all over?" Trip asked. He nodded at the patches of damp that had soaked through her shirt.

Andie didn't flinch. "It was a dry lake." Then she changed the subject. "Why are you here?"

"I'm installing some ramps in doorways so the captain can get around. I've got Engineering and the Mess Hall covered. I'm working on the Bridge after Hoshi gets done trouble-shooting the comm. array and I thought I'd take a quick peek in here."

"There are no raised thresholds in here," Andie pointed out.

"Doesn't hurt to be safe," Trip countered. He didn't seem in any hurry to leave.

Just when Andie was about to get cranky, the doors slid open again. Captain Archer entered, followed by Chang and Truax. "I just got a call from Ulnythia Senate," Archer began when he saw the guilty pair. "They're on their way up here to discuss an incident that occurred recently. They don't sound too happy about it."

"We're not happy about it either, sir," Reed interjected over the objections in Andie's head.

"You don't even know what…!" she objected out loud.

"I think it's pretty obvious…"

"It's not obvious at all!"

"What are you two talking about?" Archer demanded. He watched them exchange glances and then study the floor as though they were one entity. "One of you had better start talking!"

"We took a swim this morning," Reed started.

"In the Oraman pool," Andie added.

"There were these…"

"…telepathic bugs that…"

"…make us telepathic too."

"..don't think this is what would bring a Senator…," Andie grumbled in Reed's direction.

"What else could it…?" Malcolm questioned.

"Wait a minnit!" Trip held up a hand. "You're telepathic now?" Andie glowered at his gleeful tone. He ignored her dark look and went on. "You mean the two most secretive people on this ship are stuck deep inside each other's heads? That's rich!"

"Have care, Commander," Reed cautioned. "Some of _my_ secrets are also _your_ secrets."

The chuckle halted briefly but was quickly reinstated. "Might be worth it," he sniggered.

"I think the Senators are concerned with more than telepathic bugs," Archer broke in. "They seem to think that one of you is a traitor to the Ulnythian Games."

Reed swung his head around to Andie.

"What makes you think it's me, jackass?" she snarled.

"Because I haven't done anything to upset our hosts," Reed pointed out.

"Neither have I!" she shouted. In spite of her vehement protest, Reed could see her scan over her activities of the last twenty-four hours just in case, but the only thing that concerned her was skipping out Areyu for dinner last night, and that was hardly a traitorous offense. He was rather happy to note that she and Areyu had not been physically close, at least not that he could see in her instant replay.

"_Bridge to Captain Archer,"_ the comm. sounded through the room.

"Archer here," the captain spoke into his personal communicator.

"_The Ulnythian delegation has arrived."_

"Send them in," he decided after a short pause. He couldn't keep them out if they had a legitimate grievance, even if he was sure that both his crewmen hadn't done anything.

Several members of the Ulnythian Guard entered the room, sweeping the corners with their eyes before two Senators entered the room, escorted by Commander T'Pol and followed Areyu who looked thunderously angry.

"What's going on, Areyu?" Andie inquired carefully. She didn't like the way he did not meet her eyes.

"I am Senator Duod of Duartha," one man dressed in brown extended a hand to Archer. "This is Senior Senator Agravar of Orama. I am afraid that one of your crew has committed an act of treason and must be remanded into our custody until a hearing can be set."

"Captain Archer," Jonathan introduced himself as he accepted the handshake, but he did not return the smile. "What exactly is the offense?"

"As you know, nobody can interfere with the Games while they are in progress, as the outcome dictates the direction of our world for seven years time," Duod announced direly.

"Mr. Reed has assaulted one of our most valuable assets," Senator Agravar added, scowling at Reed.

Nobody could be more surprised. "I didn't touch anyone!" Reed protested.

"Didn't he?" Areyu asked, raising his head to stare accusingly at Andie.

"If he says he didn't assault a Player, then he didn't assault a Player," Andie assured him coolly.

"Actually we have witnesses who say that Reed was assaulting a medic on the Oraman team," Duod announced.

"You cannot refute this! We have video!" Areyu held out a small device upon which played a picture showing Reed shoving a woman into the nook of a doorway. The video was grainy and filmed through a heavy rain but there was no mistaking the incident in question, nor was there any question of the participants.

"I'm not a Player," Andie answered defiantly, tilting her head up high.

"In that, you are mistaken," Areyu snorted bitterly.

"You have been added the ranks of the Oraman Players," Duod explained. "That makes you a valuable asset to the team and this human was found mauling you far out of your own territory."

She nearly laughed out loud. "I was added to the ranks? Since when?"

"Since you took the oath to protect the Oraman team and defend Ulnythia as your own."

"I never made any such promise!" Andie shook her head.

"You did. Your presence is on record at the first Assembly of the Ulnythian Games."

Andie's eyes narrowed at Areyu. In spite of his size he shifted his weight to be further from her. "The assembly you forced me to attend that lasted a million hours and was conducted entirely in the Ulnythian language? The assembly where I wasn't allowed to bring a translator for security purposes, THAT assembly?

"You were there. Your agreement to all oaths and convictions are inferred by your presence." He couldn't look her in the eye.

"I'm not Ulnythian! I'm Martian!"

"Careful, lady," Areyu cautioned. "It is treasonous to deny your homeworld."

"I am not Ulnythian!" She was shrieking now. Beside her she could feel Malcolm cringing from her excessive volume.

"You are," Senator Agravar assured her. "You will come with us as well. We cannot allow our valuable assets to wander around where they may be put in danger."

"I'm not in danger on my ship!" Andie snorted. For Reed's sake, she tried to lower the volume.

"Your former ship," the Areyu corrected her. "You are Ulnythian now."

"You're deluded!" Andie told him scathingly. "I need to be near my ship and my crew in case they need me. I have duties!"

"You have new quarters in the Orama Sector," Agravar asserted firmly. "You will remain there for your safety until after the hearing is over. Then you will have new duties."

"What hearing?" Archer inquired, relieved to have a chance to jump into the conversation.

"Reed will be tried in an Ulnythian assembly for assaulting and corrupting a player during the Games. He will be tried and executed for treason."

"You mean 'if' he's found guilty," Andie prompted.

"Oh, he will be," Areyu promised her. "We have visual evidence."

"Put a stop to this nonsense!"

"I cannot! He assaulted a member of Team Orama during the Games! You are on my world now," he tossed another of her phrases back to her ears. "You must abide by our laws and customs!"

"This isn't a game, Areyu!" She was growing a bit desperate. In her head she could hear Reed pondering the evidence at the same time he slunk away from every mention of their private moment.

"No," the Player agreed. "It is not a game."

"If you do not give up the assailant now, we will have no choice but to bring in several of our ships to lay siege to this vessel and bring him out one way or another," Duod mentioned casually. He was as laid back as the others of his kind. It didn't faze him to speak of attacking and possibly killing nearly a hundred other souls in order to perpetuate their regulations.

Unmindful of the protests from several people in the room, the Ulnythian Guards moved to place Reed's hands behind his back and in spite of Chang and Truax's protests he was removed quite forcefully from the room.

Archer looked up from his perusal of the evidence to look at Andie. Tucker showed no signs of laughter and T'Pol stood staring at her with barely restrained censure.

"It was just a kiss between consenting adults," she protested weakly. Areyu waved her forward and she moved on shaking knees until he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder to indicate that she should accompany him back to the planet too.

Who knew a kiss could go so wrong?


	11. Chapter 11

Ulnythian Games

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter 11

* * *

_Enterprise: Sickbay_

"We're not just going to let them take Malcolm and Andie, are we?" Tucker demanded. His strident tones echoed in the suddenly quiet room.

The question broke the stillness and Archer wheeled into action, barking orders at whoever was listening. "Talk to Ensign Sato! I want all their rules and regulations on this hearing process!" Archer whirled his chair around in the nearly empty room under a rising head of steam. "T'Pol, how could you let this happen?"

The Vulcan pulled her gaze from the closed double doors to look at her captain. There were lines of tension between her brows but other than that she seemed as serene as usual. "We needed the material for repairs," she told him.

"Give it back! Give it all back!" Archer spat out. He jerked the wheels of his chair with such gusto he nearly overturned.

"Would that include the substance that Dr. Andie procured that is allowing you to remain in an upright position, Captain?" T'Pol inquired.

The thought of returning to his prone position, lying on a bed and waiting for time to end did not appeal to Archer. But it had to be better than selling out not one but two of his crew for his own comfort!

"Captain, if we give it all back we're left with a large hole in our hull and we'd be without the means to run away," Trip Tucker pointed out. He was just getting used to having his ship back in one piece and he hated to pull her apart again. "And we're going to have to run," he added. "They won't give up without a fight. We'd be interfering in their stupid game."

"_Bridge to Captain Archer_!" A voice broke in over the intercom.

"Go ahead!" he barked, whipping out his communicator.

"_Two Ulnythian vessels have taken up residence on our flanks, sir. They say it's for our protection."_

Archer wheeled around in another particularly tight turn and glared at T'Pol and Tucker both. "I'm out of commission for a few days and this is what happens?" He'd really like to race the aliens to the airlock and knock them on their asses, but in his current condition he couldn't do more than scowl from his lowly position. He hated being out of control in his own body, and his feelings of inadequacy were making his temper flare.

"A ship does not function without her captain," T'Pol told him coolly. She'd coined the phrase from the doctor, and it did not endear her to her superior.

Tucker snuck a sideways glance at T'Pol. "We discussed it at length and..." He hated the idea from the get-go; he wasn't sure why he was standing up for her now.

"You were not available for consultation, Captain," T'Pol interrupted. "We did the best we could under the circumstances. We were getting along just fine. I had no knowledge, of nor control over, the unfortunate incident with Lt. Reed and Dr. Andie that seems to have driven them to such drastic measures."

"Drastic measures? They're going to execute them! For kissing! Find me a loophole!" Archer bellowed. He'd taken a walk one night, wondering if he could bear to sit in the hot seat for one more second, and he'd come away with an disability that would keep him out of the hot seat for good, if the ship didn't implode first.

He watched Tucker and T'Pol hustle out of the room and he yanked the chair around in a circle to stare at the empty room. _What choice had they had?_ With a hole in their aft section, they couldn't achieve warp. Without warp they would still be drifting, hoping that pirates didn't find them before they'd found a sympathetic port. The Ulnythians would have seemed like a godsend; all the parts they needed if they gave the athletes a ride back to their homeworld. In exchange for access to the recreational opportunities offered by the grateful alien nation, they had to let one of their crewmembers spend some time standing at his side. She'd been perfectly willing and spent most of her time with him receiving accolades for curing his ailments. That didn't seem so bad; besides which, the crewmember in question had procured medical advice that mended one of her patients. _Which part had actually been wrong? If he had been in command, would he have done differently?_

There was something else to consider. If it had been a crewmember other than Andie Brainerd, would he have done anything differently? She had a mind of her own. She was stubborn and prone to forging her own path rather than following another's lead. _Perhaps this was all her fault_, he thought. _If she had been more like the others in his employ, he could have been able to predict the moment of implosion._

Malcolm had been making out with the obnoxious doctor. _How could he have predicted that?_ Lt. Reed had never been one to make waves in the crew. Aside from some irascible behavior between Reed and Major Hayes last year, Reed had been an exemplary crewman. He performed his tasks well. Well, _better_ than well, Jonathan conceded. No wonder Reed thought that Archer didn't think highly of him; Jon could hardly layer on praise when he was alone! Stabilizing an EM barrier on the fly, killing three innocent bystanders at Azati Prime, and leading a raid against unarmed merchant vessel in order to steal their warp coil which stranded them in dangerous space without the means to defend themselves on the order of his captain, merely on the strength of his say-so, was completing his role better than just _well_. Reed never complained. He never slacked off. And now he was romantically linked to the doctor, who was the opposite of every single one of those things? _How the hell did that come about? How long had they been carrying on? Why didn't he know about this?_

If he had been paying attention instead of lying on his bed and feeling sorry for himself, he would have known. It was part of his feeling that if he couldn't be captain for good then he didn't want to be captain at all. So he'd stayed in bed, waiting for the official orders from Starfleet Command. He'd let his people down. He'd shifted responsibilities that belonged to him onto other shoulders. He could hardly cry foul when those shoulders didn't bear the weight well.

What was done could not be undone; there was no use in second guessing, but he could change his behavior in the future. No more feeling sorry for himself; he had an obligation to take care of these ninety-four crewmembers no matter how he was feeling. They deserved his best and he hadn't been giving it to them. That was over. He was going to find a way to save Reed and Andie, if it was the last thing he was able to do for them. It was the least he could do.

He wondered how they were faring now.

* * *

_Somewhere in Between_

Andie had a foul mouth and an extensive vocabulary. In his mind's eye Reed could see her rampaging through her quarters, pacing back and forth while shrieking and cursing a blue streak. It had been fine for the first five minutes but it was beginning to wear thin, especially on top of the fading hangover.

_Give it a rest, why don't you?_ He should have known that would only set her off further.

She turned on him as quick as a striking snake. _You think this is all my fault, don't you?_

_I can't imagine why I would think that, Miss I- don't- need- anyone- else- because- I- can- take- care- of- myself-, thank- you- very-much!_

_I _can_ take care of myself!_

_Our current situation would indicate otherwise._

_How the hell was I supposed to know that they were going to resort to entrapment?_

_You could have proceeded with a little more caution._

_You weren't particularly cautious when you shoved a tongue down my throat!_

_You kissed me too!_

_Yeah, but I'm not the one blaming me for it!_

_I don't want to talk about the kiss right now._

_What would you like to do instead?_

_Think innocuous thoughts, _he sent to her, grinding his teeth as he did so.

She started humming something. It was a relief to have something else to think about, instead of the thoughts that were running free range through his head that he'd rather not be thinking about, but that only lasted until he recognized the song. Inwardly he groaned, but of course, she heard that.

_You don't like Rhyt'a Boccha? You liked it last night._

_Too much. _In spite of his best intentions, a brief replay rushed through his memory, and he felt his cheeks growing warm even as his heart rate increased.

_Oh. Right. _She swallowed hard and stopped humming. It didn't last long. She groaned. _I've got that song stuck in my head. _She concentrated very hard on putting another song in her head, but the first tune ran under the new song no matter how she tried to hide it. Very carefully she wiped clean the musical slate in her mind and focused her thoughts on a new tune. It took some work but she managed to pick up an Earth song, one of the Latin swings that had been in fashion a few year's back.

_You're pretty good at this._ Reed could feel her surprise; she had forgotten that he would be aware of the entire process, along with other things. _This isn't you first encounter with telepathy._ Even as he said it, he could almost pick out the image that flashed into her head: tall beings with bald heads and large eyes. She associated those images with a feeling of peace coupled with something else, like shame or regret.

_I've had run-ins. _The image he had been following abruptly shut off.

He could tell she really didn't want to talk about it. In other circumstances he might press further, but he wasn't certain that now was the time to probe too deeply although it was tempting. He tried for a more practical alternative. _Care to share any tips?_

_Mental discipline and focus, _she sighed_. Picture all your ideas as something tangible. Then picture yourself doing something tangible with them._

_Like what?_

_Like the Vel-esh; _Andie pulled out a clear picture of the tall, big-eyed woman dressed in gray he'd seen just a moment ago. _Then picture the Vel-esh going into a box that's secured. _The tall woman folded up and was sealed into a box, complete with a large ribbon on it; much like a present that would sit under the tree at Christmas.

Probing gently, Malcolm couldn't see anything more than the silver box._ How do you know the Vel-esh?_

_Music group, _she answered tersely_. I went to their concert once._

_You knew them better than that, _Malcolm pointed out_._ He tried to reach out and find more information. There was a tangle of images: a bar, a ship, a crowded street. They sped through his mind like a lightning strike before the images got locked away.

She wasn't going to let him get away with that. He could feel a brief fullness in his head just before she spoke again. _How come Nathan Rose doesn't like you? What did you do to him?_

_Stay out of my...! Oh. _Malcolm worked very hard to fold up his memories of the Rose's and shove them into a box, like a footlocker. _This is hard._

_You're trying to do too much at once. Start smaller. One at a time._

In the real world Reed heard a noise and looked up, feeling the strain of using neural pathways he did not usually employ in the skull-splitting headache that accompanied the movement. A pair of Oraman guards was entering his cell and they didn't look like the welcome wagon. _Oh, bugger!_

_What's...?_ She could feel his pulse race and his spine stiffen.

_I think this is going to hurt us both, _he thought apologetically in her direction.

_

* * *

__Ulnythia: Champion City_

_Oraman Sector: Guest Residence_

Andie knew Reed was getting worked over pretty good, according to the brief flashes of pain she experienced in her midsection and the growing ache between her shoulders. He had been a pretty quick learner about boxing up information he didn't want to share when he was properly motivated. She had a feeling she was only getting the partial experience, but every new bruise made her angrier.

When the door to her penthouse suite finally opened she whirled around to have it out with whoever stood there but she couldn't quite get the words out through her aching ribs. It was possible that Areyu felt worse than he looked, but he looked like hell. Gone was the charisma and bravado that had sustained much of his personality. He looked like a house pet whose beloved owners had just kicked him in the ribs.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Andie demanded, gathering the air into her lungs to allow her to talk. He looked even more hangdog at her tone, but she refused to let up even in the face of his misery. This was all his fault; he should look bad!

"Reed will be tried at a hearing tomorrow," Areyu told her. "Evidence will be presented, and he will be found guilty, which will result in his public execution."

"Over my dead body," Andie hissed. "What if _I'm_ the one who kissed _him_?" It was a faint hope that Areyu dashed.

"You are Oraman now. You can do no wrong. But you must carefully choose your companions, lest they be found faulty as Reed has been."

"I am not Oraman," she growled. "I'm human. And half Martian," she added stubbornly. "I didn't take a vow to protect Orama!"

"Your presence yesterday was all that was needed," he told her, looking out at the view from her veranda. He didn't try to open the door; she knew it had been locked. "Nobody is allowed to view the opening ceremonies, not even the media, because everyone there is sworn in as an agent of the Games."

"I must have missed that part without my translator," she snorted bitterly.

"It was while you were sleeping," Areyu told her.

If she didn't know better, she'd say that inflection was guiltiness. "For that you could have waked me," she told him dryly. His stone face was imparting something to her. "But you wouldn't have, would you? Because then I might refuse. So you invited me to watch. You saw to it that I didn't have a device to translate the Ulnythian language, and…" Something else was becoming clear too. "…and you've been keeping me running for the last three days in order to make me so tired that I would fall asleep so I wouldn't raise a ruckus at your public kidnapping!" She was furious. "I underestimated you," she noted quietly as her face hardened. "I won't do that again."

It was more than rage; it was humiliation. Every Player in that room had to know what she had been doing there, even if she didn't. Every alien who had sat in on the opening ceremony knew it too and nobody had said anything. She had been a public laughingstock, a joke, a pawn in their stupid game! As if she didn't feel bad enough, she suddenly felt breathless, as though she'd been socked in the abdomen.

"What if he's found not guilty?" she inquired through clenched teeth, struggling to keep her breathing even.

"There is video footage of Mr. Reed assailing you," Areyu told her in a pained voice. "He will not be found innocent."

"Then this hearing is a farce too," she noted.

"It is tradition."

She fumed silently. "What if I refuse to go along with this ridiculous power play?"

"You must. You are Oraman now and subject to the same laws as any citizen."

"I am not Oraman," she insisted.

"You took the oath with the rest of us. You are Oraman now." His tone took on a pleading element. "Why couldn't you just stay with me?"

"You never asked!" she snarled.

Areyu paused. "What if I had?" He sounded hopeful in spite of himself.

At least she took a moment to honestly consider the proposal. There was a hint of regret when she answered honestly. "I'm not the staying kind."

_He cares about you._

The unwanted third party interjection was embarrassing. In the midst of his torture he was paying attention to her! _How stupid was he?_ "He never cared about me," she answered out loud.

"I could have made you happy once," Areyu stated, thinking she was talking to him. "I cannot woo you now. You have been implicated in a plot against Orama. To woo you now would be to court disaster. I must find another." He pondered his options carefully, unmindful of the maelstrom of rage festering so close by.

Something hit her midsection so hard she couldn't do more than roll her eyes until she caught her breath. "What happens now?"

"You should have watched me play," he told her bitterly.

"What?"

"Yesterday you were too busy with your computer that you didn't even watch me play," he burst out. He was a man of some standing in his community! Women were usually happy to stand at his side and enjoy his company! But then again he had only known people who wanted to use his status as a Player for their own ends. He'd never known anyone who just had no interest in him whatsoever. He had been tempted by her indifference, finding it a novelty.

"You sound like a petulant child! Why don't you grow up?" Andie scowled. _The Zitheran must have told him, or perhaps one of the orphans. _She decided to salt his wounds. "You overstretched your mark in the second quarter, putting a strain on the ankle I mended three days ago. It taxed the wound and every subsequent maneuver put strain on that joint and caused each play to fulfill itself just milliseconds longer than the last one. You slowed down because you're playing injured and you're clumsy."

"How do you know that?" he asked in surprise.

"That computer of mine," she reminded him. "It can do many things. How come you don't have one? The other Players do. The opposing team noticed your frailty and made the most of it, hitting it again and again until you could barely stand. You should have finished much sooner than you did."

"You will be invaluable as a member of our team," he told her tightly. He didn't like to be criticized.

"If you kill him, how long do you think I'll let you live?" She didn't sound petulant; she sounded dangerous.

He didn't miss the warning, although he was somewhat amused at the slight figure that had the gall to talk to him as though she could face him in a fight. "You cannot threaten the Players."

"Sure I can," she assured him loftily. "Just means I'll get my day in court too."

"Do you really want to die?"

Andie smiled grimly. "I'd rather die than be kept in a cage." She tried another tactic. "I don't belong here! I'm not a part of your world, no matter how many times you recite an oath over my sleeping form!"

"Don't you want to belong somewhere?"

"I do belong somewhere!"

"On a ship with people who have no care for your safety," he pointed out. "You said it yourself. You are not part of their world either. You said it was complicated!"

"My life is not for you to un-complicate!" she countered angrily. Another sudden feeling of pain in her mid-section doubled her over, and knocked the wind out of her lungs.

"What's wrong with you?" Areyu asked with concern.

"Don't worry about me. I'm fine," she snarled. "Your boys are working Reed over though. Are you completely useless or can you get them to stop that?"

"You can feel his pain?" Areyu asked incredulously.

"Your stupid telepathic water bugs!" she shrieked.

The tall man lost all color under his remarkably healthy complexion. "You took Reed to the hot springs?"

"I didn't take him. He showed up there," she protested, struggling for air.

"But if you feel what he feels, then you will…" Horror was dawning on his countenance.

"Probably feel him die tomorrow," she snickered. It wasn't really funny but she couldn't stop it. "I wonder if it'll kill me too? Some prize I'll make you then, eh? Two for one day!"

It was too horrible for him to contemplate. Areyu left the room at a run. Fifteen minutes later there were no more sudden gouges at her midsection and she decided that he put a stop to the beatings, a supposition that was verified when another thought pattern emerged in her head.

_Thanks_.

She could hear him in her head even if he was somewhere out in the city where she couldn't find him. He couldn't be too far away. Areyu hadn't been gone long. "Welcome," she offered, struggling to draw breath. "Sorry about that."

_At least they didn't break my nose. I think they wanted to save my pretty face for my close up on the news feeds tomorrow._

"I am so sorry," she whispered again.

_Don't be. We've solved one problem with the abusive guards. We're practically free now._

"Yeah, one problem down. Just a million more to go."

_Atta girl!_

She wondered if he could tell she was rolling her eyes.

* * *

_Ulnythia: Champion City_

_Oraman Sector: Detention_

There hadn't been much headway on the legal front, and growing concerned, Archer headed to the ground to confer with his tactical officer. It took several hours, but he was glad when Areyu finally allowed him in to visit. He'd feared the worst; some of those jailors looked quite brutal, but Reed was sitting calmly on his bunk. It was a small cell with stone walls and only one small window which looked out on the city at gutter level. In fact the refuse from the street above tended to slither down the wall in all its stinky glory when there was more than the waste streams could handle. It was definitely safer to sit on the bunk than stand on the floor.

"Nice accommodations, Malcolm!" the captain joked feebly.

"I've had worse, sir," Reed agreed.

_Like the underwater channel on Renaisterre?_ Her voice in his head continued to be disconcerting as he tried to think of ways to get them both out of this without dwelling on the reason he got in here in the first place. It wasn't helping that he knew she could feel every bit of the fear he'd felt trapped underground being swept along by the gushing stream. He squirmed.

"I just wanted to let you know that we're doing everything we can," Archer promised a distracted Reed. "We're having a bit of trouble making headway. It seems this has been circling around." Archer held out a newssheet with the headline: _Most Valued Player traded for Most Valued Kisser._ "People are taking sides."

_That was humiliating._ "I am so sorry, sir." Reed wanted to crawl into a hole and hide his face. He should have been escorting her to the ship, not assaulting her in an alley in front of witnesses.

"Don't worry about it, Malcolm. We're going to get you out of this."

_It doesn't matter. They've already made up their minds. _She sounded morose.

"Any good leads, sir?" Malcolm asked.

"We haven't given up hope yet."

_He's being vague. That's not good._

"I appreciate it, sir, but perhaps the right thing would be to let it go."

_What?_

"What?" Archer did a double-take. "I'm not leaving you here to die, Malcolm! We'll get you out of this if we have to bring in help from every planet we've ever set foot on!"

_Look, Colm, I have a plan. It's a_ little_ crazy, but…_

"Please don't go to any trouble on my account." Reed looked directly at the Captain. "Sir," he added when he realized who he was really addressing. "I did do what they said I did."

"A kiss between consenting adults shouldn't be considered treason," Archer offered quietly.

"If we shift the blame from me, then they will start looking for a scapegoat, sir. And that just leaves…" Reed swallowed hard at the image his brain insisted on conjuring up; Andie laid out in a coffin. Juxtaposed over the top of that mental picture was the memory of another girl lying too still, but just as lifeless. His guts churned.

_Me_. She sounded faint as though she had just considered her possible fate.

"I can't allow that," he told the room at large.

She was aware that he was going to do whatever it took to get her out of this, even if he had given up on getting himself out of it. She sent out a defiant _I can take care of myself._

"I know that. I just don't want any more trouble than we're already in."

Archer was looking at him as though he was having trouble following the conversation. _Or at least half of it,_ Reed realized.

"How's that telepathy working out?" Archer wondered. "What does she think about?"

"Mostly me in my underwear, sir," Reed noted casually. He was delighted at the screech of outrage in his head.

_Hey! That's not…entirely…true!_

He stifled a grin.

_Sometimes I think about you in nothing at all._

Archer watched the flush of embarrassment crawl up Reed's cheekbones and wondered what kind of filth Andie was sending his way.

"Maybe we can use the telepathy somehow?" Archer wondered. "If you get hurt, she feels it, right? The same rule of ethics that won't allow a member of the Games to be hurt should play into this somehow."

"Is it worth it?" Reed inquired. "I did kiss her and they see that as the equivalent of an assault."

"The punishment doesn't fit the crime," Archer pointed out.

"But I don't want anyone to go to war for me," Reed said out loud to both his listeners. "I've seen too many lives torn apart to wish that. If my death can keep the peace, it's worth it."

He was concerned with the quiet inside his head. Reed wondered if she was thinking about nothing at all, or more apprehensively, that she was able to keep portions of her thoughts to herself, no matter what crazy plan might be scattering her brains.

"I won't let that happen, Lieutenant," Archer told him firmly. "Not over a kiss." His expression grew curious. "It looked like a pretty good one."

Reed just shrugged. He knew his cheeks were aflame with color, but at least if he was dead he wouldn't have to write out a description of the kiss in a report for admirals to review.

_Exile._

"What?" Reed queried.

"What?" asked Archer.

_Say the word out loud._

"Exile," Reed obediently repeated.

"I'm not going to banish you…" Archer objected.

"No, I could be banished from Ulnythia," Reed caught the gist. "If I promise never to return, which is not on my list of things to ever do again anyway, perhaps they could forgo the actual death sentence. I'd be dead to the world here." He tried hard to tamp down on the sudden jolt of hope that scenario brought him. Hope never did him any good.

"That could work," Archer frowned and nodded at the same time. "I'll take it to Hoshi and T'Pol."

_How's T'Pol?_

"How is T'Pol?" Reed repeated in confusion.

"She's fine," Archer answered. "Does Andie want to know? _Why _does Andie want to know?"

_She's had headaches._

Reed could feel the lie behind his eyes but couldn't quite figure out how it was untrue. Plus someone was suddenly humming the loudest rendition of the Battle Hymn of the Republic in his head and it was slightly off-key. "Andie says she's been having headaches!" The silence in his head was a relief. He found he had raised his voice to be heard over the top of it, which was ridiculous since only he could hear it.

"I'll pass on the concern," Archer nodded. The jail door opened and a guard poked his head in. "I've got to go but don't worry, Malcolm. We're going to beat this." He wheeled his chair out the door.

_T'Pol should look in my bag. I've got some things there she'll need to see._

"Tell T'Pol to look at Andie's bag!" Reed shouted. The door clanged shut and he wasn't certain if Jonathan heard him or not.

_I should never have involved you in any of this._

"I was just thinking the same thing," he responded. "What's wrong with T'Pol?" He tried to reach out and pluck the answer from her mind, but all he got was an image of a box wrapped in green foil paper, tied with a jaunty yellow bow as though it was ready for a Christmas tree.

_The kiss wasn't an assault. I was a willing participant. Don't do anything stupid._

"I'll be the judge of what's stupid, thank you." He settled back down on his bunk and stared at the smooth stone wall on the opposite side of the room. There had been too many reminders of the kiss that he was trying to forget. Now he couldn't get it out of his head. But he was damn sure going to try.

"Malcolm, there's something I have to tell you."

Her voice sounded just a little different in the room and in the time it took to blink something had changed. To his surprise he could actually see her. She was transparent but he could actually see her. He said as much. "I can see you."

"I know. Actually I'm thinking about you thinking about me and you're just looking at a representation of me that's in your head..." She knew she was babbling and struggled to shut her mouth. "It's complicated."

"What did you want to tell me?" he pressed.

He could feel her hesitate. "There's something I have to tell you. I was supposed to tell you before but I didn't. But I think I have to tell you now. With our current condition you're bound to find out about it. It's just better...You should know."

She wasn't making sense. "What is it?" He watched her bite her lip.

"My parents met and married in a weekend," Andie blurted out. "I was born shortly after. They got divorced when I was four. My father left Earth and my mother refused to go with him."

That was not what he was expecting. "What does that have to do with...?"

"She sent me with him."

_She traveled with her father._

In the shared confines of his head, he knew that she knew that he knew about it. "How long were you gone?"

"A while," she evaded.

_Almost fifteen years_. He could hear the answer in his head. "There was no boarding school."

"When I returned to Earth, there was some question about the veracity of my lineage. There were some adjustment problems too. I had some attitude issues. HQ decided that it was better if my childhood was kept on a need to know basis."

He could see it in his head, as clear as if he had witnessed it himself. _An older man, who seemed somewhat familiar, had aged a dozen years in an hour. He was bent over and vomiting in the trash can at his desk. Looking up he begged her never to tell his daughter what she had just told him. Reed could feel the shame that burned through Andie as he looked through her eyes, along with the hopeless emptiness. This was never going to work out, and she was wondering why she ever bothered with Earth in the first place._

"I thought you should know. When we're like this, you might see something." Her apparition looked away in mortification.

Now that she was thinking about it, he was thinking about it too. In spite of her intention to keep it from him, he could feel the desolation at being ripped from her mother, he could see the dry heat of a Vulcan city, he could know the terror that came from being hunted underground. _Oh my God, this meant that when they were both on Eckta's Reef fighting pirates, she had been about…_He did some mental math_…She would still have been a child!_ His head was spinning from the details and he tried in vain to quiet the shaking in his hands. "Why didn't you tell me any of this before?"

"I didn't want to. I don't want to tell anyone about it. Not ever," she sighed. "But it keeps coming up."

The thought that wasn't his jumped into his head. _Archer forced it out of her. He commanded her to tell T'Pol and Tucker, the latter of whom had not reacted particularly well to the news. She hadn't wanted to tell Reed because she hated repeating any of it. It was bad enough to live through it once! What good did reliving the past do? It only made other people unhappy and reminded her that she didn't belong with the shiny, happy people born planet-side._

"So what do we do now?" He asked her, trying to keep his unease from being known to her.

"Think innocuous thoughts?" she suggested wryly.

"That's not very helpful."

"It's all I've got right now."

"Captain Archer will get us out of this." His head felt like it was splitting and fracturing into a million pieces. Part of it was the new information that she was having trouble holding back now that she'd started the process of retrieving memories, and part of it was the earlier beating and the lingering hangover.

"You shouldn't worry about me," she repeated carefully, stopping his random perusal of her thoughts. "I can take care of myself. I always do. If you get the chance to get out of this, take it. I'll find my own way home."

"I won't leave you behind," Reed stated clearly.

"They want me to serve their Game. They won't harm me until it's over. And before that happens, I plan to go missing. There are ships that come and go all the time, any one of which could probably use a medic. It's usually worth the price of a travel ticket."

He drew in a deep breath. He had to admit, she certainly had a knack for staying alive. But that wasn't good enough for him. "I will not leave you behind. I will get you out of here because you are a part of this crew. You belong with us. We are in this together until the end."

"I don't belong in your world."

"Where else are you going to go?" _She was human. She had to stay with them_.

The image of Andie evaporated in front of him. The vision that he had been taking some small comfort in was just gone. Her insistence that she didn't belong concerned him more than anything else at the moment, but she refused to allow him access to her thoughts.

* * *

_Ulnythia: Champion City_

_Gamaran Sector_

Trip Tucker looked around. There was nothing particularly romantic about this particular corner, but evidently it had struck a chord with his friends. "I'm not seeing any surveillance equipment. It could be hidden from view." He spoke into the handheld communicator.

Far above his head, tucked among the stars, his cohort was not paying any attention to the sight of the location that was sent to her. She was employing the sensors on _Enterprise_ to check for unusual readings. _"There are no energy signatures or heat signatures or any other kind of recognizable surveillance equipment."_ T'Pol lifted her head. _"It is likely that the initial recording device was hand held."_

"Then it's long gone," Trip sighed and kicked at a can in the gutter. "Do we have any idea who might have filmed a couple necking?"

T'Pol's head tilted to one side_. "Necking?"_

"Making out?" he suggested instead. "Kissing," he finally shrugged in frustration.

"_There are some cultures where watching a sexual act is considered titillating." _

"Do you watch a lot of pornography?" Tucker couldn't help but wonder. The mental image of T'Pol dissecting a sex film the same way she had dissected the interpretation of, say, _Frankenstein_, amused him.

"_No."_ She was quite firm about that. _"Who would have anything to gain by watching a couple of aliens 'making out'?"_

Trip considered. "We should find out who brought the first complaint against Malcolm."

"Ahem." The slight noise of a throat clearing brought Trip's head swiveling around. He saw a young woman hovering in the shade of another doorway. "The Senate would bring the first complaint, once they saw the footage," she offered in a low voice.

"Zaftig!" Trip recognized her with some surprise.

"_What is a zaftig?"_ T'Pol inquired.

"Not what, _whom_," Tucker clarified. "We met at the bar last night. While everyone was dancing, Zaftig and I shared a drink."

"You were very kind to me," Zaftig offered shyly.

"You shared a drink with a woman?" T'Pol inquired. The calm she'd felt since finishing her detailed meditation was nearly blown away at his familiarity with the alien. She gripped the edge of the table in front of her to steady her nerves.

"She was nice enough to listen to me goin' on about some stuff," Trip replied vaguely. He got back to business. "Who would have the name of the first person to submit the video?"

"Why would that matter?" Zaftig wondered.

"If we can figure out who's trying to frame Malcolm, maybe we can find a way to get him out of this ridiculous trial."

"Perhaps it is not about your Malcolm at all," Zaftig offered. "Orama Province has many enemies. Any one of millions of people might want to see the Oramans falter."

"Why would they falter?"

"If Areyu is found sympathizing with a traitor, he might be removed from his position as leader of the Orama team," Zaftig explained. "This may have nothing to do with your people at all."

"They'd kill a man just to displace a Player in the hopes of winning a game?" Tucker wondered out loud. He shouldn't be surprised; an engineer had been willing to sacrifice his life for a perceived failure.

"The initial uplink of a video would be logged in at the main archive," Zaftig mentioned. "I can take you there."

Tucker smiled. "There you go, being all helpful again!"

"I live to serve," Zaftig responded with a timid smile.

Tucker announced his intent to check out the archive and cut off communications with _Enterprise_. T'Pol was left alone in the medical ward, where she'd been spending most of her time since Dr. Andie had been taken, clutching something hard between her rigid hands. Looking down she realized it was a book, a thick tome listing the complete works of Shakespeare. It was too heavy to throw, she decided, drawing a deep breath and forcing the emotional flames to subside inside her. It should be of no concern to her if he spent his days flirting with a long list of women. Of course it would help if he was interested in a woman who did not live on a planet where the smallest physical intimacy might be the basis for an execution. Closing her eyes helped. The sudden flare of temper had been tamped down to a manageable level.

Looking down at the cover of the book, she was reminded of some of the more famous tragedies. Perhaps she could transmit a call to Denobula, where Phlox could recommend some magical elixir that would render Tucker's overly friendly companion unable to perform actions that her quiet tone indicated she might be a willing participate in. T'Pol's thoughts drifted away until the double doors opened and allowed entrance to Crewman Cutler.

* * *

_Ulnythia: Champion City_

_Orama Sector: Guest Quarters_

Evening was settling over the city when Areyu returned. Andie didn't turn from her position at the window. She still couldn't get the window open, but at least she could enjoy the spectacular sunset as she contemplated the next day's events.

"The Senate has offered their first ruling," he said by way of announcement. "The telepathic water bugs have limited range. If you remain far from him, you should be fine." Her silence prompted him to offer further detail. "That means you won't be allowed to watch the hearing in person."

"Your theory is flawed," she answered calmly. "I could feel his pain earlier, and he was quite some distance from me then."

Areyu couldn't do more than shrug and looked pained. "The Senate is certain it will be fine."

"Well, as long as they are certain," she mimicked wryly.

"I should go," Areyu suggested.

"Do you know what I find most interesting?" Andie mused. She didn't wait for an answer. "I walked through the city and lost count of the number of plaques that noted the Provinces that coordinated the efforts to domesticate this city. For example, the water fountains give props to the Aquaran Province for the water, to the Duarthan Province for the rocks and to the Khineran for the mechanics. But the Oraman Province is not listed anywhere."

"I can have our names added to the plaques by the end of the week!" Areyu told her defiantly.

"That's not the point," she told him. "Nearly all the Provinces on Ulnythia have put the war behind them and learned to work together, to cooperate. Except Orama who is very happy to stagnate in its industry in order to keep its people in government positions afforded to them through the Games. Unless you start losing Games; in which case your people will get booted out of office. Then your Province will have nothing left to offer. You're missing out on the world around you and the world around you is passing you by."

"Perhaps you should be less concerned with my status on Ulnythia, and be more mindful of yours. You are no longer part of your human crew, although you keep talking as though you are. You told me your post there was temporary. Now you have found a permanent post. You are now part of the Orama Province for the duration of these Games. Forget your human crew. It will be better for you in the long run."

"My post here is just as temporary," she told him.

"You will come around."

"No. I won't."

He lifted his chin skyward at her stubborn insistence. "I will not be back to see you until after it's over. Is there anything you need?"

"My freedom," she told him as her mouth twisted humorlessly.

"You will taste freedom again after this is over. Is there anything else?"

"No," Andie said softly. After the doors had closed behind him, Andie grabbed a large vase from the fireplace mantel and sent it crashing against the closed door. The smash was rather satisfying.

* * *

_Enterprise: Conference Room_

Jonathan recognized the door buzzer and summoned the one who rang. Hoshi Sato entered. "How's it going, Hoshi?" he inquired tiredly. His body ached from its wounds and its healing process. He pushed aside his nearly full plate; he hadn't been in the mood for dinner.

"I'm afraid I have bad news," Hoshi told him.

Archer took a moment to absorb that before waving her to a seat.

She chose to stand. "Last time the Games were in play, a man stumbled while watching the parade that goes round the city," she started. "He jostled a float and a Player stumbled. He didn't fall, mind you, he stumbled."

"Yeah?" Archer prompted.

"The man was executed, under the ruling that he might have changed the outcome of the Game by inflicting a bruise on the Player."

Archer sighed.

Hoshi went on. "They have a zero-tolerance policy with regards to their Players and..."

"What else?"

"It's not an official action, but the general consensus is that the Senate likes to pick one person out of a crowd and make an example out of him. It makes the others more inclined to stay in line."

"Malcolm's their scapegoat."

"Yes, sir."

Archer heaved another sigh. "Thanks, Hoshi. We'll keep trying though, right?"

"Yes, sir."

It just wasn't looking good. That wouldn't stop him from trying. He'd stopped once and he would never forgive himself for it. He would never quit again.


End file.
