TITLE: Herculean Labors
AUTHOR: Mara Greengrass
AUTHOR'S E-MAIL: fishfolk@ix.netcom.com. Feedback is better than chocolate.
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Yes, just ask.
CATEGORY: Drama
RATINGS/WARNINGS: G
SUMMARY: "Humans and Elkarans and other races from Aoan to Zyzzyx, all united against the forces of nature."
DISCLAIMER: Enterprise and all its crew belong to Paramount and many other entities with expensive lawyers. I am making no profit from this story.
NOTES: Thanks for the beta go to the mighty Captain Average, the superhero who edits...but Cap, I'm taking advice from *Crais*? That worries me .

//thoughts//
{{dreams}}

* * * * *

Zero hour:

The bridge was quiet near the end of alpha shift, and Hoshi was bored. There was always plenty of work to do on the Not-So-Universal Translator, but she wasn't in the mood. She fidgeted in her seat, making it creak almost inaudibly. She was a little edgy, a touch restless, surveying her surroundings for a distraction.

T'Pol's head was bent over her scanner, conducting research on a binary star they'd recently passed. //She's not much for small talk in any case,// Hoshi thought.

The helmsman's chair was empty, and Hoshi could hear Travis banging around under his console conducting routine diagnostics. Malcolm had given up his seat on the bridge to young Ensign Likken and disappeared into the bowels of engineering to test a technique that might extend the life of various components of the torpedo tubes. //Well, I'm glad *someone* is having a good time,// she thought. //I'm just the ship's "miracle ear" and there's nobody to listen to.//

She had just resigned herself to convincing the translator to stop mixing up Vulcan food words with Nausicaan swear words, when an incoming message grabbed her attention. She looked up as Captain Archer walked in from his ready room.

"Sir," Hoshi called. "I've got a message coming in." She listened while cleaning up the white noise.

Archer looked up with interest from the padd he'd been perusing. "I didn't know there were any ships in the vicinity. Put it on."

"It's verbal only," she said, "and it's not from a ship."

She clicked a few things and the translator fizzled for a few seconds before admitting it recognized the language. "...planetary emergency. We ask the assistance of anyone able to help. Please, we need supplies, equipment, people..."

Hoshi spoke as the message continued. "I have the coordinates, and the translator tells me the language belongs to a species called the Elkara.
That's the name of the planet as well."

"Can we reply?"

Hoshi shook her head slowly. "It's a recording, not live, and this message has been relayed a number of times. We *could* contact them if we really needed to, but who knows what kind of equipment they're working with in an emergency."

Archer nodded. "Travis, let's go see what we can do to help. Warp 4."

* * * * *

Plus one hour:

Senior staff from all over the ship gathered around a table to discuss T'Pol's report, which was based on information from the transmission, and what was in the Vulcan database. Since she'd helped gather the data for the report, Hoshi sat next to Trip and watched his eyes widen as he scanned the description of the chaos on Elkara. He whistled softly, the sound sliding up and down the scale and making her shiver.

T'Pol gathered everyone's attention to her. "The cause is currently unknown," she said, "but the planet is experiencing severe rainstorms, which have caused flooding and mudslides on nearly every continent." She displayed a rotating view of the planet, pointing out the population centers.

Archer frowned as he read over the report. "This is terrible." He looked up. "Okay, team, suggestions? What can we do to help? We certainly don't carry enough supplies to make a dent in their needs. That'll have to wait until transport ships arrive."

"We can move rescuers in shuttlepods," Malcolm said immediately. "They're too small to move very many refugees, but we can get into tight spots and get people and supplies where they're needed."

Trip's voice was uncommonly somber. "The transporters can move supplies and equipment anywhere. At least some of the folks who are stranded won't starve before somebody gets to them. We can also help repair equipment that's been damaged."

"And of course, while I am the only doctor on board," Phlox said, "we do have a number of crewmembers whose basic first aid training might come in handy. Most of the injuries, for now, will be simple fractures and wounds. Disease comes later, and by that point, other help should have arrived."

Archer nodded. "Good start. Keep thinking everyone and let me know if you come up with any other ideas. We'll be there in approximately eight hours. Dismissed."

Hoshi stood up slowly from the table. //What can *I* do to help?//

* * * * *

Plus nine hours:

The Enterprise nudged its way into orbit around the planet, joining a bewildering variety of small ships, shaped in ways most of the crew had never imagined could be used for a starship. Travis was pretending to be blasé, but even he goggled at a few of them.

"They appear to be mainly commercial vessels," T'Pol said, scanning the ships around them. "Traveling merchants."

"Hail the planet," Archer said, "Let's see if we can find someone in charge."

Behind her was the small silence of a bridge full of people holding their breath with anticipation of first contact. "There are scattered signals all over," she said, "it sounds like it's pretty chaotic."

She could feel everyone's eyes on her and she tried not to squirm. //Ah, there, that sounds official.// Moments later, she'd tracked the signal back to its source. "I think I have a government facility, sir. I might even have visual."

"Put 'em on."

The screen switched from a view of the planet to a cramped room filled with rapidly moving Elkarans, vaguely humanoid, maroon-colored skin, and a bit broader body than human-normal. According to the information she'd studied, the face that looked out of the screen at them was male (the frills on the cheek were the clue).

The Captain stood behind Travis and said, "My name is Jonathan Archer, Captain of the Enterprise, from the planet Earth. What can we do to help?"

Hoshi listened with half an ear as the Captain described their capabilities, and with the other half of her attention listened to the untranslated sounds of the Elkaran language, a melodious sound to human ears, almost a trill with the occasional click and pop.

"We would also appreciate the use of your comm system," the government official said. "Our satellites are still in orbit, but many of the land-based receivers are flooded or filled with mud, and the other ships that have arrived are very antiquated."

Archer looked at Hoshi. She nodded, with more confidence than she felt, and
Archer turned back to the screen. "I think we can help. I'll let you talk directly to my comm officer and make arrangements."

The official immediately said, "I'll pass *you* on to the head of the recovery efforts. And Enterprise, we thank you."

"It's our pleasure to help," Archer said, nodding to Hoshi and moving off to his ready room. "Call me if you need me."

Hoshi switched the transmission from the main screen to her console, and the official was replaced by another weary-looking Elkaran, female this time. She managed a polite nod. "Hi, my name is Xin. Tell me what you can do."

Twenty minutes later, they had hashed out a rough plan for communications between the remaining transmitters and the spotty network of other communication systems on the planet.

Xin rubbed her face. "Well, that will help enormously. We really need someone to provide coordination to our relief efforts, someone to track where equipment and supplies and people have gone and where they are needed. Too much of our leadership is missing or injured at the moment."

"I'm going to draft some help," Hoshi said, making notes on her console.

"There's one other thing we need, though." Xin closed her eyes for a second. "We need you to search for signals from survivors whose comm systems are too far from a working receiver. Can you do that?"

"I think so." Hoshi wrinkled her nose for a second. "I can do a series of overlapping scans for...well, you don't care how I do it. Yes, I think I can help."

"Good." Xin sagged in relief. "We're overloaded helping folks whose locations we *know*. It'll be days, if not weeks, before we can start looking for others. You will have full authority to send rescuers. In a little while, you're going to know more about what's going on than we do."

Hoshi was already working out a plan when she signed off, and she made her way immediately to the Captain's ready room, where he was dispatching crew down to the planet.

He looked up when she came in, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes, Captain, but I think I'm going to need some help. They not only need messages relayed, but also someone to organize rescuers, and search for survivors' distress calls. I can't do it all myself."

"What about me?" Archer asked, "I was beginning to feel like I was superfluous once we got this ball rolling." He grinned briefly. "And my security officer has forbidden me to set foot on the planet."

She grinned back. "Let's get tracking."

The task was complicated and never-ending. Archer took over T'Pol's station, since she was on the planet helping the government's scientists. Hoshi could hear him muttering quietly to himself as he tried to make sense of the chaos. She began the monumental task of patching communications through Enterprise's systems, and setting up a search pattern for survivors.

//It's complicated work, but at least I'm making a difference, using a different part of my brain. And I'm helping an entire planet to boot, how many people can say they've done that?//

* * * * *

Plus 21 hours:

Hoshi's enthusiasm wore off just about the time the last of her adrenaline disappeared: twelve hours after reaching Elkara. Twelve hours of trying to track transports, food, medicine, heavy equipment, and thousands of rescuers. Twelve hours of watching from a distance, as rain continued to fall and turned into hurricanes, further swamping overloaded land and endangering even those who'd made it to high ground.

Hoshi's heart bled as she spoke to various beings on the planet. Trying to track down a load of emergency rations that had gone astray, she spoke to one of the local doctors. She had trouble concentrating on what she was doing, because her eye was caught by rows of what looked like garbage bags in the background. Moments later, she realized they were bodies--she'd interrupted the doctor in a makeshift morgue.

Hordes of dispirited refugees marched across her screen, tiny figures arrayed behind nameless Elkarans working on the relief efforts. Refugees desperately seeking someplace to perch and wait out the horrendous disaster that had overtaken their planet.

Every time the data passing through Hoshi's systems threatened to become sterile numbers, she received a call from someone on the planet, huddled under a blanket, drinking the local equivalent of coffee. Behind them, crying children, divided families--Elkarans who had lost everything and had nowhere to go.

And each call brought its own soundtrack to Hoshi's sensitive ears: the steady (almost painful) thrum of rain; the squelch of feet moving through mud; the piercing whistle of wind sweeping across canvas tents; the panicked overtones of speech in the midst of chaos.

* * * * *

Plus 33 hours:

The artificial divisions of shiftwork disappeared in the face of the overwhelming needs of the planet below them, and the crew worked until they dropped, ate when someone put food in front of them, and bathed occasionally.

Archer had stripped the ship's crew down to a bare minimum, leaving only enough people on board to run the transporters, keep essential systems on-line, and make sure the crew had something to eat. Hoshi felt as if she hadn't slept in months, although she had a vague memory of someone putting a sandwich in front of her hours ago. It was gone now, so she assumed she'd eaten it.

An urgent call: "We've got parents looking for their children," an Elkaran woman said. "They were evacuated several hours ago, from a school in the north of the Rama sector. They're frantic."

That was no understatement. Wailing in the background that made her teeth hurt could only be the universal sound of a parent who has lost their child. Hoshi hurriedly scanned the files looking for children, and sent several records.

"Is it one of these groups?" she asked, crossing her fingers for good luck for the first time since she was eight.

The worker scanned the list, then stopped. "Yes! There they are!" She turned to face a group that stood outside the range of her transmitter. "They were taken to the college at Shko. They're all safe!"

Momentarily forgotten, Hoshi put her hand to her mouth, overcome by a sudden surge of joy, a feeling of fellowship for a group of aliens she'd never met.

The worker finally turned back to the screen. "Now, I'd better figure out how to reunite them," she said, an expression that had to be joy spread across her face. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Hoshi said. She sat for a few moments, just breathing and being. A light blinked, and she answered the call of her console, still distracted.

Trip appeared on her screen, trying to ask her something, but she had to ask him to repeat himself, as she found herself momentarily distracted by his drawl and mussed hair.

"Hoshi?" Trip asked. "When did you sleep last?" He ran a hand through his hair, leaving a streak of something black and more disarranged hair in its wake.

"I don't remember exactly," she said, "how about you?"

"Well, Ensign Blakely kicked me out of the transporter room for a while, so I've had a few hours. But you look beat. Why don't I send someone up to relieve you?"

She shook her head, "No, not yet, I've finally got the survivor search pattern running, but it still needs some refinement. I'm getting some very strange echoes and interference, and I can't figure out the cause."

The Captain spoke up from behind her. "Trip's right. Go get some sleep. There's more work to do and you won't be any use to anyone if you don't get some rest. Whoever takes over can continue the search. Sleep. That's an order, Ensign."

"Yes, sir. As long as you promise to do the same soon."

He nodded and stretched. "Promise. Now get going."

She started to get out of her seat, then looked back at the screen in confusion. "Trip? You didn't contact the bridge to tell me to go sleep, did you?"

Trip stared at her for a second, then managed a tired laugh, "No, I didn't. Maybe I'm not as awake as I thought."

* * * * *

She stumbled into her quarters and slumped down on the bed without bothering to take off more than her boots. //Getting undressed takes too much energy,// she thought.

Sleep came quickly--almost as soon as she'd pulled up her covers. With sleep came dreams; a mish-mash of things she'd seen and heard; with that soupçon of unreality that is the hallmark of exhausted dreaming.

{{The bridge: almost entirely normal...except for the green slug that sat in Travis' chair. The slug informed her that it had set a course for Vulcan, because they needed Enterprise's help.}}

Hoshi rolled over, murmuring, "They're asking for *our* help?"

{{The scene changed to the shuttlebay, where she was waving at a shuttle filled with her crewmates, going down to a planet that appeared to be entirely made of water. Trip smiled at her, saying "Don't worry, darlin', we'll be back soon." T'Pol nodded solemnly and said in Vulcan, "I have never visited a world with so much water."}}

{{The shuttle left and she found herself walking the empty corridors of the Enterprise, up and down, around each deck, looking for something. Whatever it was, it eluded her.}}

Her legs moved in her sleep, shifting the covers into a tangled mess.

{{The emptiness of the ship scared her and she broke into a run, tears falling. She was on the bridge, at her station. The console was beeping, but she couldn't figure out how to turn it off, she couldn't remember how to work any of the controls. The beeping got louder and louder until she had to cover her ears with her hands to block it out. What was the sound? It sounded like...like...}}

Her alarm. Hoshi rolled over and turned off the alarm, stretching slowly. Her mind was still half-caught in her dream world, and she lay in the bed for a few more moments, trying to center herself back in reality.

//Whew,// she thought finally, //my subconscious is really working overtime.//

* * * * *

Plus 39 hours:

The sleep helped, although not as much as Hoshi had hoped, but after grabbing some coffee and fruit from the messhall, she made it back to the bridge in reasonably good order. Happily, the Captain seemed to have kept his promise, as the science station was manned by Lieutenant Lynn O'Malley from engineering, who was apparently also handling communications, because she practically jumped for joy when Hoshi appeared to take her place.

She was soon back in the swing of things, manipulating data and keeping the comm system running smoothly. She worked on the survivor search in stolen moments of time, a small part of her brain fixing problems even as she did the rest of her work.

When she finally succeeded, it took her a few moments to realize she'd found a constructed signal. It wasn't even a voice, just a repeating series, maybe an SOS in an alien Morse code. She bent all of her renewed energies on finding the origin of that signal.

"Got it!" she yelled. From behind her, she heard a clatter as Lynn knocked padds off the console. Hoshi turned around, blushing. "Oops, sorry."

"That's okay, I'm pleased to hear something good has happened," Lynn said, retrieving the padds from the floor. "What's the good news?"

"I think I've tracked a new distress call back to its location." She quickly transferred the narrowed-down coordinates to the science station. "Can we get them some help?"

Lynn frowned in concentration. "Find out if Team 10 is back at their base yet. They're closest."

Hoshi bent to her task, spirits raised.

* * * * *

Plus 43 hours:

Malcolm's face was a welcome sight on her screen, even if he looked like he'd gone over Niagara Falls in a barrel: wet, exhausted, with a large purpling bruise on his forehead.

"What happened?" she asked.

He looked surprised for a moment, then gingerly touched the bruise. "Watch out for falling rocks," he said with a tired grin. "It looks a great deal worse than it is."

"I hope so. What's up?"

"We've had to pull everyone out of the Kisho sector," he said. "Even our shuttles can't work in the hurricane that's brewing there. I'm uploading a list of places we didn't reach that still need supplies."

"Okay." She pulled up the Captain's list. "I'll pass that on to the transporter room, and send down the next most urgent assignments outside of that sector. How many vessels have you got there?"

"Shuttlepod three, five of the Elkaran rescue ships, one Rasul shuttle, and three of those little pods from the Aoan ship." Malcolm reeled off the list. "When this is over, tell Trip he needs to talk to their engineer, those pods are quite powerful for their size."

Hoshi smiled. "I'll tell him, it'll give him something to look forward to."

"I thought so."

She'd never seen Malcolm so wiped out, he looked like he was going to keel over any moment. "Are you okay? You look like you could use some sleep."

"I will rest. In a minute. It's just..." He looked directly into the pickup, and seemed to be forcing the words out of his mouth. "There was a family. Three children, parents, I could see them when we managed to drop some supplies from the air."

Hoshi held her breath.

His voice was flat--almost atonal--and his expression unchanging. "I saw the wave wash right over them. It came out of nowhere while they were dragging the supplies in. There wasn't anything we could do. If we'd taken the pod in, we'd have been swamped. We had to fly away."

She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry." She opened them again, to look at his wan face. "You've helped a lot of other Elkarans. I know that doesn't help now, but maybe it will later."

"I hope so." He shook his head sharply, as if to shake off this revelatory mood. "I'm tying up the channel, I'd better go."

"Sleep, Malcolm, then head to the new coordinates."

"Right. Reed out."

She dropped her head to the console for a moment, tears pricking the back of her eyes. Then, she resolutely went back to downloading new assignments to rescuers all over the planet.

* * * * *

Plus 63 hours:

The Captain had been dragged off to deal with some other crisis about an hour before, leaving her alone on the bridge. She was hunched over her console, organizing data on the payloads of incoming ships, //treatments for akan go over here, sonno roots are needed there...//, when a cup of steaming tea appeared at her elbow. She didn't even look up, just said "Thank you," and continued to move numbers.

"The tea won't drink itself, ya know," Trip's voice said, making her jump and nearly knock over the cup. "And it won't do much good decoratin' the deck either."

"I'm sorry," she said, picking up the tea, holding it up to her nose, and closing her eyes to inhale its fragrance. For a moment, she imagined its humid smell was rain and she could feel it beating down on her.

"Hoshi?"

"Hmm?" She opened her eyes again to see Trip's worried expression.

"Where'd you go just now?" He leaned against the railing and watched her, as if he was concerned she would just disappear.

She looked into the tea and drank some to give her time to consider the answer. "Down to the planet," she said finally.

"It's pretty overwhelming, isn't it?"

"Mm-hmm." She sipped more tea and murmured, "Like rolling that rock uphill."

"Sisyphus?" Trip asked, smiling when she looked up in surprise. "Why does everyone assume I'm an idiot who never read anything more complex than a comic book? Even engineers read mythology now and then. When we're not studying repair manuals, that is."

She shook her head. "No, that's not what I think of you."

"Doesn't matter. In any case, if I remember correctly, ol' Sisyphus was doomed to roll the rock up and have it roll right back over him. Pointless and hopeless. What we're doing isn't hopeless, it just feels that way. How 'bout if we just consider our labors Herculean instead?."

"I think I can manage that." She sipped the last of the tea, warmed inside and out.

He smiled at her and took the empty cup from her hands. "Now, you get back to your work and I'll take over for the Captain 'til he gets back."

They worked in companionable silence, punctuated only by occasional contact with the surface.

"Oh!" Hoshi said, looking at the origin of an incoming message. "It's Dr. Phlox calling. Voice only."

"Hope everything's okay," Trip said.

"Hello, Ensign," Phlox said when she opened the channel. "Is the Captain available?"

"He's not on the bridge, but if you need him, I can track him down. Is everybody all right?" She could hear Trip come to stand behind her.

"Well, I can say with authority that everyone *will* be fine in short order. I wanted to alert the Captain to our most serious injury, however. I'm afraid Lieutenant Reed has broken an arm and cracked some ribs."

Hoshi swore under her breath in Japanese, but Trip seemed to get the idea and patted her on the shoulder. "What was he doin'?" Trip asked.

"Oh, hello, Commander. I am not clear on the details, but I believe he was thrown from a moving vehicle while attempting some kind of rescue. Have no fear, he will recover quickly. I must get back to work now."

"We'll let the Captain know," Hoshi said.

"Thank you. Phlox out."

Hoshi viciously stabbed the button to close the channel. //That idiot. Trying to be extra heroic to make up for his perceived previous lack.//

"Hoshi?" Trip asked, sliding back into the seat at the science station. "He'll be fine. Even under conditions like these, the Doc can treat a couple of breaks."

She shook her head and turned to look at him. "I know. I just have some suspicions he put himself in more danger than absolutely necessary."

Trip's eyes widened. "You mean-"

"No, no! Hang on." Hoshi put up a hand to stop him. "I just think he's been pushing himself too hard, thinking he should be able to fix everything, save everyone."

Trip relaxed. "You mean, acting like Malcolm?"

The turbolift door whooshed open, spitting out the Captain and Lieutenant O'Malley. "Okay, you two," the Captain said, "time for both of you to get some sleep. Off the bridge." He glared at Trip. "And no sneaking back to engineering, either."

"Yes, sir," they chorused, Trip even throwing in a salute for good measure.

They gave him Phlox's news and headed off the bridge.

As she exited the turbolift, she looked at Trip. "Thanks for the tea. And the encouragement."

"Anytime, Hoshi, anytime. Sleep well."

* * * * *

Plus 87 hours:

While her system logged and transferred messages, Hoshi went back to her survivor search. Since her initial discovery, she'd tracked down five other stranded groups, which left her with a series of very strange signals. They didn't feel like distress calls (not repetitive enough) and they weren't regular traffic (which she would have recognized by now and most of which was passing through her system anyway).

She couldn't pinpoint exactly what bothered her about them, but they just felt wrong. //I've looked at them a dozen times, and they *still* look wonky.//

The signals came and went and seemed to be moving around. //Could they be rescue ships that aren't patched in? Some sort of odd weather effect? I wish T'Pol were here to run this by.// She paused and ran a different analysis, frowning at the result. //Looks like they're not natural, but...coded? Could they really be coded? Who would be sending coded messages in the middle of a worldwide emergency?//

She set her system to save all the signals into one file and flag for her attention when more were detected. Then, she was dragged away to coordinate with a transport ship full of food that had just arrived.

She'd just sorted that out, when she heard T'Pol's voice. It took a moment to realize the Vulcan was still on the planet, but had contacted the Captain.

"I am well," T'Pol was saying, "however, I find myself in need of data from Enterprise. I can download it from my console if you will initiate the link."

"Done," Archer said. "Have you slept recently?"

"Vulcans are capable of going for much longer periods without sleep than humans."

Hoshi tried to decide if T'Pol sounded tired or not. It was hard to tell.

"How's the work going?"

"We have mapped the most likely locations for waterborne illnesses and created a plan to treat them once medicine arrives. Currently, we are investigating the agricultural situation, but we cannot complete that without more weather data. That is what I am downloading."

"How does it look so far?"

"The analysis is not complete at this time, but I believe the food shortage will be dire in the coming year," T'Pol said.

Archer's voice sounded old and defeated, raspy from lack of sleep. "There's nothing we can do about it. Are we saving these people just so they can starve?"

"We are doing everything we can. The Enterprise is only one small exploration ship and can hardly solve every problem. Other assistance will arrive."

There was a strange silence behind Hoshi, and she wanted desperately to turn around and look at the Captain. //I never expected to hear a Vulcan trying to cheer up Jonathan Archer. Does this mean pigs are flying somewhere?//

Finally, T'Pol said, "I have the data I require."

"Okay, take care of yourself, T'Pol. I need my first officer back in one piece."

"I assure you I will return in one piece," she said. "T'Pol out."

* * * * *

Plus 101 hours:

The Captain had ordered her to sleep again, and when she marched back onto the bridge, she actually felt a little more human.

//I think that's the shower, though. Sleep is great, but a hot shower with lots of soap wins every time.//

Tea and toast in hand, she kicked Lynn O'Malley out of her chair, nodded to the Captain, and got back to work. Lynn had just finished sorting through two large transports from the Aoans, and things were momentarily running smoothly.

//I think our job here is almost done,// she thought with satisfaction. //More and more ships are arriving every hour.//

With a few precious moments of spare time, Hoshi decided to look at her growing collection of strange, possibly coded, messages.

//Maybe the computer and I can make something of them now.// She brought up the file and started a more sophisticated (and complicated) procedure. //Maybe they're military.// She paused, feeling indecisive. //I could show them to the Captain, let him decide. No, he's busy, this is my job, my call. If they turn out to be legitimate military communiqués, I'll just delete them.//

Decision made, Hoshi continued to work on the mystery signals on and off for several hours. Then, as so often happens in puzzle solving and cryptography, she had an aha! insight.

Half an hour later, her console was scrolling through the decoded and translated messages, and she was aghast.

"Captain, I think you need to see this." She couldn't take her eyes off her screen, but she heard his small impatient sigh. //They always forget how good my hearing really is.// "Sir, I really think you'll want to see this."

He came to stand beside her and she pointed. "My system isn't quite done with the translation, but I think you'll get the gist."

"The gist of-" Archer began, but then his brain caught up with what his eyes were seeing. "What the hell is going on down there?"

"Theft on an astounding level," she said, practically spitting out the words. "Everything they can get their hands on, apparently. It's those two Rasul vessels that arrived before us, using the cover of rescue operations to steal mined ore, equipment, even some of the relief supplies. As far as I can tell, the only thing they haven't stolen is children."

She snapped her mouth shut, astounded by her own vehemence and volubility.

Looking up at the Captain, she saw his face was thunderous. "Damn it, of all the times for Malcolm to be injured." He stopped to think. "Can we tell how many individuals are involved?"

"I don't think it's very many. The ships aren't that big, I doubt they carry more than 20 crew each, and they're pretty well scattered across the planet. I'd guess they're working in teams of two or three, based on what I've read."

"Can you track those signals?"

"Working on it."

"Let me know the minute you can tell me where these bastards are. I'm going to go make some plans. Get me a secure channel to Malcolm." Archer turned back to the science station, then paused and turned back. "Hoshi?"

"Yes?"

"Good work."

* * * * *

As she feverishly worked to track the messages, Hoshi could hear the Captain and Malcolm rounding up security officers from around the planet and gathering them at Malcolm's location.

"Hoshi, can we get a secure message to someone with some authority?" Archer asked.

She turned around, considering the question. "Perhaps. I wouldn't want to guarantee it, though."

"Sir," Malcolm's voice had overtones of weariness mixed with anger. Hoshi could imagine how this situation must be frustrating him. "I wouldn't recommend that. We don't know if anyone in the government is involved. My team can handle this, so long as we have the element of surprise."

Archer and Hoshi looked at each other, and he said. "That's what I'm worried about."

She went back to tracking.

A little less than an hour later, Hoshi leaned back in her chair and sighed in relief. "Got it. I can get a location within five minutes of any signal."

"Good," Archer said. "Send them over as soon as you know. I'll let Malcolm know we're a go."

The next two hours were anxiety, interspersed with occasional terror, as they dispatched and waited to hear from the security teams.

"We've rounded up 15 of them so far," Malcolm said, his face larger than life on the main screen. "Of course, it gets more dangerous the more we catch."

"Why?" Hoshi asked.

"It becomes more likely that one of the remaining miscreants will realize something is wrong when they don't hear from their partners," Malcolm said, his tone one shade short of condescending.

Hoshi was confused and she looked from Malcolm to the Captain. "Then why don't we transmit fake messages to make it seem like they're still out there? They haven't been speaking to each other live and we've got days worth of logged messages to copy from."

There was a long moment of silence, as Malcolm and the Captain stared at each other, then as if controlled by one hand, they turned to stare at her.

"What?" she asked. "Is that a bad idea?"

Malcolm recovered first. "No, it's a very good idea. I can't believe I didn't suggest it." He ran the hand that wasn't in a sling through his hair.

The Captain was shaking his head back and forth slowly, disbelief slowly dawning across his face. "Malcolm," he said finally, "we'll never live this down."

"Quite right, sir."

Archer shook his head one more time, then said, "Okay, let's start creating those messages."

"I'll get Trip to drop transmitters in some of the locations you've picked up the crooks from," Hoshi said.

"Right," Archer said weakly.

* * * * *

Plus 127 hours:

The messhall was half full of returned crewmembers, catching up on missed meals and on the events that had occurred on other parts of the planet. Hoshi had just taken a seat at an empty table when Travis dropped into a seat across from her and set down his tray. "Hey, Hoshi."

"Mmm," she said, unable to come up with anything more coherent as she stared at a plate of rice and steamed vegetables.

Fortunately, Travis wasn't easily offended and dug into his potatoes with more energy than a man who'd just returned from grueling work in the middle of a disaster should have.

Hoshi stared at him through bleary eyes. "Aren't you tired?" she asked plaintively.

He nodded, swallowing his mouthful. "Yep, but I'm also revved by what we've accomplished here. Too excited to sleep. What are you doing up?"

"Too tired to sleep." She smiled, buoyed by his cheerfulness.

"Yeah, I can see that." Travis looked up from his meal. "Hey, I forgot to say congratulations, I hear you pulled off a real coup up here."

"That's right," Trip's voice said from behind her. "Our Hoshi has become quite the interplanetary cop, I think Malcolm's worried she's gonna take his job."

She blushed as the two men looked at her approvingly, and took refuge in a bite of food.

Trip put his coffee cup down and slid into a chair next to her. He slumped over the coffee and grinned up at them from under pale brows. "You couldn't sleep either?"

They shook their heads. Travis stirred his fork through a pile of green beans and said, "Every time I fall asleep, I wake up thinking I'm supposed to be piloting a shuttle somewhere."

"I know whatcha mean." Trip blew gently across his coffee, watching the ripples. "When I close my eyes, I see transporter coordinates flickering."

Hoshi saw movement by the entrance to the messhall and looked up in time to see the Captain come through the door, head turned to speak to the person behind him, Malcolm. The latter, his arm still in a sling, was shaking his head vigorously, looking stubborn.

//If I had to guess, I'd say Jon's trying to convince Malcolm to take a day or two off and rest his injuries. Good luck.//

The two men argued their way to the food dispenser, acquiring hot liquids, and the Captain picked up a plate of salad when Malcolm tried to carry it. They were turning toward the Captain's dining room when they saw Hoshi, Trip, and Travis, and walked toward them instead.

"Where's T'Pol?" Hoshi asked as the two men joined them. The Captain put down the salad and pulled up chairs for both of them, as Malcolm put down his mug of tea.

"She went to her quarters immediately," Archer said, putting his cup down with a little more force than necessary and sloshing his coffee. "Turns out," he said, sitting down, "she went without sleep the entire time, so now she has to do some kind of meditation to recover."

"No sleep at all?" Travis asked, clearly impressed.

Archer just looked grumpy. "I told her to rest, but she didn't listen."

"Well, you gotta admit it's a useful ability," Trip said with a sly look at his friend. "In any case, we were just wondering if Hoshi here was gonna take over as chief of security."

Malcolm said, "I'll admit I *am* a bit concerned about your apparent propensity for taking over my job." He took a forkful of salad and eyed her with amusement.

"Well, Malcolm, if you wouldn't get yourself injured, she wouldn't have to," Archer added.

Hoshi blushed again and refused to look up as the others laughed. She poked at a piece of broccoli and suddenly wished they'd all leave her alone. The table fell silent.

"Hoshi?" Trip said tentatively. "We're just teasing you because we think you did a good job, a great job, in catching those crooks."

"I know," she said, sighing and looking up into their worried faces. "I guess I'm just overtired, but I can't fall asleep either."

"Exhausted by your Herculean labors?" Trip asked with a smile.

A reluctant grin spread across her face. "Mm-hmm. You were right, it was much more like Hercules than Sisyphus."

"Fellas, I think we missed something," Archer said, looking at the other two.

"I was just trying to convince her that the situation wasn't hopeless. And I was right, wasn't I?"

"You were right," she said. Her brow wrinkled as she tried to remember the rest of the legend. "Hercules had a pretty miserable life, though, didn't he? Tricked into killing his family? Basically enslaved into the labors?"

Malcolm nodded. "Herakles, or Hercules if you insist, embodied the concept of pathos, virtuous struggle and suffering bringing about nobility." He looked at Trip. "This was your analogy? And here I thought you only read comic books."

Trip thumped the table and looked at Hoshi. "See? See what I mean?"

"You're right, nobody takes you seriously." She couldn't help laughing at his mock indignation.

Travis frowned. "I'm not sure I agree that suffering makes you noble. I think suffering just makes you miserable."

"Whoa, there!" Trip said, holding up his hands. "I didn't say anything about that, I was just tryin' to make Hoshi feel better."

Malcolm ignored him and addressed Travis. "In Greek art and literature, the idea was to tug at both the mind and the heartstrings of the reader or viewer, to persuade them to your point of view by showing great suffering."

"But that doesn't mean that having bad things happening to you automatically makes you a better person," Travis said. "I doubt that'd make the folks down on Elkara feel any better. It's not like there was any *point* to their suffering."

Hoshi shook her head vigorously. "I don't think pathos is the connection here. Hercules also represented the victory against impossible odds. That's not a bad analogy for what we do, is it?"

"Hmm," Archer said, sipping the coffee and leaning back in his chair. "Hercules was courageous, honorable, and hard-working. Not a bad way to be remembered."

"If you ignore the fact he died rather horribly, accidentally poisoned by his new bride," Malcolm said.

"Hmm, I forgot about that," Hoshi said.

Trip groaned. "Geez, guys, I was trying to cheer her up and now look at what you've done."

"No, it's okay, Trip. Forget about Hercules for a moment. Think about what happened here. We made a difference in the lives of the people on this planet. "

Nodding, they all considered her words.

Hoshi warmed to her theme. "All of us--okay, almost all--dedicated to helping the Elkarans. Humans and Elkarans and other races from Aoan to Zyzzyx, all united against the forces of nature." She was sitting up and getting excited now. "We didn't just show up and declare our peaceful intentions, we proved them conclusively. It doesn't get any better than that."

"Does that make up for all the tedious times in between?" the Captain asked.

Hoshi stopped, looked around at her crewmates, then broke into a wide grin.
"Yeah, I think it does."

The Captain nodded in satisfaction. "Then, go get some sleep, Hoshi."

* * * * *

Hoshi took the time to remove her uniform before slipping into bed and drawing the covers up under her chin.

Sleep overtook her almost instantly, and the flashes behind her eyes gradually coalesced into dreaming.

{{She was almost underwater, trying to swim, but the powerful current was drawing her down. Debris bumped her, covered her. She tried to yell for help, but her mouth filled with water. A hand suddenly plucked her out of the water, and dropped her on dry land. She saw a face--remarkably like Trip's--peering down at her with a frown. "What were you doing in the Augean stables while I was trying to clean them?" he asked.}}

Sitting upright in bed, Hoshi was surprised to find herself alone and dry. She blinked a few times, then started to laugh. "Trip's gonna have a field day with that!" Still giggling, she lay back down and sank into a restful--and thankfully dreamless--sleep.