Hey all,

This is my first Star Trek fic ever, and, well, I hope you like it. That's all I wanted to say…

Enjoy!

Emrys

Title: Following Orders

Disclaimer: Paramount owns the characters and situations of Star Trek Enterprise. I don't and I am not being compensated in any monetary way by writing this story. I do this to pass the time. (

Part I.:

He woke.

Gently and without distress.

He even smiled as he opened his eyes and left the fantastical dream of green gardens filled with drowsy poppies.

And then he sat up and a small invasion of unease entered his body.

"This isn't right," Captain Archer whispered to himself.

The small sense of unease threatened to become an entire assault of anxiety.

"What the hell is going on here?" he asked loudly and sharply to no one in particular.

***

"Captain. Are you well?"

Archer turned in the direction of that flat, unemotional voice and a wave of relief washed over him as he saw T'Pol sitting calmly in a corner. While he assessed his condition, he absently noted that they were in a small, doorless room consisting of plain, white walls.

"Fine, T'Pol. I'm just fine." And he was. Maybe slightly disoriented, but he felt quite rested and strength flooded his limbs. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, Captain. My body is functioning quite well, " T'Pol calmly replied. "But Commander Tucker has yet to awaken." As she spoke, the Vulcan motioned to the far side of the room behind Archer.

The Captain turned. "Trip?" he asked concernedly.

The young engineer was sprawled on his side, and he showed no sign of awareness. Archer moved to his friend, and gently shook the other man's shoulder.

"Trip! C'mon, you have to wake up now!" Archer spoke loudly, but Tucker showed no indication of wakening. Archer sat down heavily in arms-reach of Trip, and looked towards T'Pol again.

"Do you have any idea what is happening?"

"No Captain. I believe we were all drugged during our foray in the gardens, but by whom or why I do not know."

Archer observed that his Science officer displayed no anxiety or concern, and he was almost envious of her unflappable nature even though it was somewhat abrasive given the circumstances. He silently wished that Trip would rouse himself, so that he could share some healthy emotions with another human being.

"I imagine we'll find out in good time what is going on," he said offhandedly.

"I share your belief, Captain. It is only logical," T'Pol replied. Feeling the uncertainty of the situation, Archer had the sudden urge to laugh. Sometimes, it seemed as if the source of the Vulcan's dry responses regarding logic was a hidden well full of humor.

He allowed himself to chuckle as he looked about for a weapon of some sort. As expected, his search was fruitless.

"I don't suppose you have a phase pistol or a communicator, do you, T'Pol?"

"No, Captain," T'Pol said evenly.

"Didn't think we'd be so lucky, but it was worth a shot," he said with a shrug. "Do you have any suggestions about what we should do next?"

"I think we should wait, Captain."

And they did.

***

They waited for someone to come and explain to them what had happened, but no one came.

They waited for some sign that Enterprise knew of their whereabouts, but it did not come either.

And they waited for Trip to regain consciousness. On this front their energies were rewarded approximately an hour after the Captain had awoken by a soft moan from the source of their apprehension.

Captain Archer focused anxious attention on Trip as soon as he heard him begin to struggle to awareness.

"Trip?" he asked. Tucker's only response was to move onto his back and moan again.

"Commander! C'mon now, it's time to wake up. That's an order!" Archer said loudly as he placed a gentle hand on the struggling man's chest.

"Yessir," Trip mumbled, and he squinted his eyes open. He did not otherwise move, and his eyes flickered open and closed as they tried to adjust to the lighting in the room.

"Cap'n, can you dim those lights? They're awful bright," he complained. The piercing light was penetrating his skull like a knife, and it made his head ache.

Jon looked at the subdued lighting in the room, and then back at T'Pol. There was hardly enough light to illuminate her form from across the relatively small room. He looked back down at Trip who had now firmly closed his eyes against the perceived brightness. Archer was even more disturbed to see that his friend seemed to be fighting for every breath he took.

"T'Pol, what's wrong with him?" he asked his Science officer with the hope that she would have some idea.

T'Pol walked over to them, and gazed down at the still prone man.

"It might be the effects of the anaesthetic that we all received," she proposed as she felt Trip's limp wrist for a pulse.

"I don't remember feeling like this when I woke up over an hour ago, do you?"

"No Captain, I do not," T'Pol said as she looked directly at Archer. "It simply may be that his metabolism cannot support the drug as well as ours, but it is difficult to come to any conclusions without the proper equipment." She placed Trip's arm back down beside him with a gentleness that surprised Archer. "His pulse is somewhat fast for a human, however."

"Will ya just give me a second," Trip grumbled below them. "I'm fine! I'm just trying to decide if I want to see what sort of predicament I've been dragged into this time. I swear, Cap'n, I'm going to have to seriously consider going against your orders the next time you tell me I have to go on an away mission."

Archer laughed with relief at the familiar taunting tone in his friend's voice. It was true that he had persuaded Trip on yet another first contact mission with the Zyrians, a terribly diplomatic but gentle people. In fact, the last memory he had was of laughing at Trip's amazement for the stupefying beauty of the gardens that were the pride of the Zyrian planet. Archer had commented that if Trip had followed his instincts to stay onboard the Enterprise to work, he would have missed out on the sight. Trip had made a snide comment, but Jon could not remember it.

"I'm okay, guys. Really," Trip insisted as he attempted to sit up. It was a struggle for him, but with some help from his two crewmates he managed to get himself upright. "See, all better," he claimed as he smiled broadly and leaned heavily against a wall.

T'Pol looked skeptical as she gazeed down at the still squinting man. Yet he did seem improved, and she could see that his eyes were adjusting, albeit slowly.

"Take your time, Trip," Archer said and slapped Trip gamely on his shoulder. "There's not much happening around here anyway."

"Where is here? Or don't I want to know that?" Trip asked.

"We're not sure," Jon replied honestly as T'Pol compared the two men's rate of breathing. The Commander's was somewhat faster than the Captain's, but she said nothing.

Trip was beginning to feel a little stronger despite the pounding ache in his head and the heaviness in his chest. He coughed a small cough, and opened his eyes wider to see Jon clearly looking at him in concern.

"I'm okay. Really, I'm okay," Trip insisted. "It was just rough waking up. Maybe you better tell me what's happening."

The Captain opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted by the swish of a door that he had not noticed before opening behind him. Standing in the doorway were three of the aliens they had unfortunately come to know as Ferengei.

Trip groaned at the sight of them.

"Oh man, not these guys again!"