Hey! This is my very first fan-fiction at fanfiction.net! Please be
patient! I'm only going to write the first chapter today! Next week I'm
going to post the second chapter! Please contact me at TrinneerFan (on AIM)
or e-mail me at stepsfan_2009@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. Paramount does. I do not take part in anything Star Trek. So, with that out of the way, let's get started! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- -
Chapter One
The rain outside the small whitewashed house was deafening. But he didn't care. No, Charles Tucker III wasn't bothered by the rain. He was too caught up in memories; painful ones.
Even in the hard rain, someone was at his door, knocking furiously. He stood slowly; making sure his swollen leg didn't have pressure. The pain was immense, even with no pressure.
The knocking grew louder, almost desperate. He opened the door, only to see Jon Archer drenched all the way through. It couldn't be. Jonathan Archer was dead. "Trip." Jon said, "Trip, we need your help." And with a final gasp, he fell backwards. He was unconscious.
Trip hobbled over to him, and bent down. He didn't care that the rain was drenching him, drenching his bad leg and making it hurt even more. He felt like screaming. But Trip knew that if he didn't get both of them inside, they would get sick.
Trip tried to get a good hold on Jon's ankles. The pounding rain was making him lose his grip. After at least 10 minutes of grunting, pulling, and grimacing, Trip finally got him into the front hallway.
He scrambled for blankets and pillows and a med kit. He sat down next to Jon, and tried to make him warm enough before he made himself comfortable. After numerous temperature changes, cups of coffee, and some antiseptic for some cuts on Jon's face and arms, he finally got to sit back in his wicker chair and stare out into the cold rain.
In his thoughts, he could hear the screams. Painful screams that still haunted his memories. The screams of his shipmates; his friends. It seemed so long ago; it was hard to believe the terrible things that happened only happened a few months ago.
Just then, Jon awoke. Trip stood painfully and hobbled back over to Jon. It was apparent that Jon was disoriented. He was grimacing and looking all over the place. "Jon," Trip inquired, "How did you get here? You're dead!" "Daniels."Jon moaned, "It was Daniels." "Daniels? Who?" Trip was confused. "Daniels!" Jon repeated as he grabbed Trip's shirt collar. "Daniels! He sent me here to get you. To get you to help the Enterprise." He sat up, and started to cough. "I don't have much time. I need you to help us.. Help the Enterprise. We need to help them." "Captain, I." Trip was hesitant, "How do I help?"
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OoOo! It that a good start, or WHAT?!
Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek. Paramount does. I do not take part in anything Star Trek. So, with that out of the way, let's get started! ---------------------------------------------------------------------- -
Chapter One
The rain outside the small whitewashed house was deafening. But he didn't care. No, Charles Tucker III wasn't bothered by the rain. He was too caught up in memories; painful ones.
Even in the hard rain, someone was at his door, knocking furiously. He stood slowly; making sure his swollen leg didn't have pressure. The pain was immense, even with no pressure.
The knocking grew louder, almost desperate. He opened the door, only to see Jon Archer drenched all the way through. It couldn't be. Jonathan Archer was dead. "Trip." Jon said, "Trip, we need your help." And with a final gasp, he fell backwards. He was unconscious.
Trip hobbled over to him, and bent down. He didn't care that the rain was drenching him, drenching his bad leg and making it hurt even more. He felt like screaming. But Trip knew that if he didn't get both of them inside, they would get sick.
Trip tried to get a good hold on Jon's ankles. The pounding rain was making him lose his grip. After at least 10 minutes of grunting, pulling, and grimacing, Trip finally got him into the front hallway.
He scrambled for blankets and pillows and a med kit. He sat down next to Jon, and tried to make him warm enough before he made himself comfortable. After numerous temperature changes, cups of coffee, and some antiseptic for some cuts on Jon's face and arms, he finally got to sit back in his wicker chair and stare out into the cold rain.
In his thoughts, he could hear the screams. Painful screams that still haunted his memories. The screams of his shipmates; his friends. It seemed so long ago; it was hard to believe the terrible things that happened only happened a few months ago.
Just then, Jon awoke. Trip stood painfully and hobbled back over to Jon. It was apparent that Jon was disoriented. He was grimacing and looking all over the place. "Jon," Trip inquired, "How did you get here? You're dead!" "Daniels."Jon moaned, "It was Daniels." "Daniels? Who?" Trip was confused. "Daniels!" Jon repeated as he grabbed Trip's shirt collar. "Daniels! He sent me here to get you. To get you to help the Enterprise." He sat up, and started to cough. "I don't have much time. I need you to help us.. Help the Enterprise. We need to help them." "Captain, I." Trip was hesitant, "How do I help?"
---------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
OoOo! It that a good start, or WHAT?!