CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
"So it cuts into the profit margin, then?"
Trip was sitting in the mess hall, talking with Jerry Trail. Like Travis Mayweather, Trail was a boomer, born and raised in space.
"Yes, sir," Trail nodded. "Trying to use convoys mean that the ships have to make too many stops delivering cargo. Depending on how many ships, and how many stops, it could even double the transit time. That means the ship earns about half as much money, and some ships. . .well, they operated close to blanket as it is, as my old man might say. They can't afford it."
"Even though it's safer?" Trip pressed, trying to work out the problem in his mind.
"Safer is relative in space, sir," Trail shrugged. "You know that."
"True," Trip sat back in his seat. "Okay. So if the convoys are organized to take ships on a regular circuit, like, would that work? I mean, would anyone try it, you think?"
"I don't follow, sir."
"Look at it like this," Trip leaned forward again, more animated than anyone had seen him in the last several days. Or weeks. "If you have a regular circuitous route, pre-planned, and the ships could arrange for other cargo along the way, would that work?"
"You mean making a regular route?" Trail frowned. "Most ships try to do that, anyway."
"Sort of," Trip nodded. "But. . .let's say there's, I dunno, six cargo ships. They all start with a cargo that's going from Earth, or wherever, to one or two planets. Somewhere on those two planets, they secure another job, going to another planet on the route. And so on. See what I mean?"
"Like the old freight lines on Earth," Trail mused, getting it.
"Exactly!" Trip slapped the table. "One of the worst problems is the time in transit. So if we make a route of it, and each ship can take on more than one cargo run on the route, then that would raise the profit margin, right?"
"Well, sure," Trail nodded, starting to share Trip's enthusiasm. "Half the trouble most ship Captains have is securing return cargo. A lot of the time, they end up dead heading back to Earth for their next run. But," he frowned, "most planets have their own cargo services. You'd be competing head to head with them, too."
"Ain't nothin' wrong with a little healthy competition," Trip declared. "And there ain't nothin' says them same alien cargo vessels can't buy into the program, either. Or is there?" he asked.
"No, not that I know of," Trail admitted. "I know my father has friends among alien cargo ships. I mean real friends, not just business associates. No reason that wouldn't work."
"Thanks, Jerry," Trip smiled. "I really appreciate it. Talkin' to somebody that knows the in's and out's is a real help."
"I'm glad to be of help, sir," Trail smiled. "And, for what it's worth, I think it's a good idea. I hope it works."
"Me too," Trip smiled, getting to his feet. "Talk to ya later!" He left the mess hall, already adding what he'd learned from Jerry Trail to his PADD, working it into his idea. One of his ideas.
Janos was building a lot of ships. Trip knew that keeping them flying was costly. Janos might or might not be able to afford it, but another problem was that ship crews simply hanging around waiting for something to happen got bored. When they got bored, they also got careless, and sometimes a bit lazy. And they lost their edge.
So, he decided, why not find work for them? There were pirates, slavers, privateers, all kinds of nefarious people in space that preyed on cargo ships. Not just ECS ships either.
What better way to keep the ships and their crews on their toes, than. . . .
"Captain Tucker to the bridge!" Julio's voice rang across the ship. No sooner had the echo stopped than red lights began to flash, and klaxons began to blare.
"What the hell?"
STE
"What?"
"It would seem that the Reptilians, along with Insectoids, had planned for something like this," Keras told Archer. Behind the primate spokesman, other Xindi could be seen running to and fro, red lights flashing all around.
"There were Reptilian and Insectoid troops hiding beneath the water, perhaps already on the weapon itself. They have seized control of the weapon, and are launching it as we speak!"
"I thought you said it was in it's final phase of construction, not ready to launch!" Jon was halfway out of his seat before his broken leg reminded him why he was sitting.
"The final phase was the installation of the vortex generator," Keras explained. "A device we use to travel great distances in a short time. It is very power expensive, but an efficient way to move hurriedly. The weapon does not have such a device."
"Are you sure?" Archer demanded, just short of snidely.
"Positive. The required components were being custom made, and have not yet been completed."
"Well, that's something, anyway. What are you going to do?"
"All of our ships have been ordered to attempt to destroy the weapon, but, it's shields are very strong. It's weaponry, aside from the main weapon I mean, is substantial. Our people will try, but I am not confident in their chances."
"Does the damn thing have a self-destruct?" Jon asked.
"We already tried that," Keras sighed. "It either malfunctioned, or, more likely, has been disabled. The weapon is already sealed, and we cannot force our way in, though we are still. . . ."
"Captain, you're gonna want to see this," Reed called, his voice grim.
"One moment, Keras," Jon held up a hand. "On screen!"
The image before him switched to a view of the planet below. As the assembled bridge crew watched, a massive sphere rose above the water, a sled of some kind beneath it.
Once clear of the water, the construct gained speed rapidly, heading for space. Smaller craft, barely visible, were clearly attacking the giant ship, but to no apparent effect.
"They will not be able to prevent the weapon leaving atmosphere," T'Pol informed him gravely. "No damage is registering from their weapons."
"Hoshi, see if you can raise Acheron," Jon ordered, a sick feeling in his stomach. Trip had been right.
STE
"What is it?" Trip asked, walking onto the bridge. While in civilian clothes, his presence was still imposing.
"Trip," Neera told him softly, "the weapon is launching."
"What?" His voice seemed to lower the temperature on the bridge
"Reptilian and Insectoid troops have seized the weapon," Julio informed him. "It's. . .there it is!"
Trip followed the other man's gaze, to where the screen showed a massive object leaving the water. Right where the weapon had been.
Cold fury gripped him as Trip watched. The Acheron's equipment was much more sophisticated than Enterprise, and allowed Trip to see in more detail as Xindi ships fought vainly in an attempt to keep the weapon from leaving the atmosphere.
"They will fail," Kron spoke without looking up. "They are not causing any damage to the vessel. The shields are too strong."
Trip sat down in the Captain's chair, watching in silence as ship after ship fell to the firepower of the Xindi craft. He allowed the devil his due, recognizing the bravery of the Xindi crews trying to stop the huge vessel. Their bravery was a sight to behold.
It was also in vain.
"Weapon is leaving atmo," Julio stated quietly. "Xindi fleet attempting to engage."
"What do we do?" Neera asked. Even though she expected it, the hate filled gaze that turned to her was painful.
"Well, I dunno," came the reply. "I guess, if somebody had destroyed the damn thing while it was still on the ground, without power, that might o' worked."
"Trip, please," Neera shook her head. "I'm sorry. I was wrong. But we have to do something. They could be headed to Earth."
"Probably are," Trip nodded, looking back to the screen. "Kron, you scan any weaknesses in that thing?"
"Not at present, My Lord," the Klingon admitted. "I am still looking."
Trip rubbed his forehead, feeling a swell of guilt within. He had let himself be talked out of doing the one thing he'd intended to do, and now, this. A gigantic version of the weapon that had attacked Earth, killing Elizabeth and so many more, was now on the move. Extrapolating the damage based on the damage caused by the first attack, Trip realized that this thing was, indeed, a planet killer.
"They'll destroy the Earth with that," he said. "There won't be a thing left."
"Orders, sir?" Kron requested. Already the Xindi fleet was attacking, causing no more damage than the small ships in atmosphere had done. Three of their ships had already fallen to fire from the weapon/ship.
"Keep scanning," he sighed. "Jerry, move us to engagement range. Kron, fire two volleys of torpedoes, time on target to whatever you think is a weak point, and then concentrate every gun that will bear on that point. Have the rail guns target hard weapon points for now, and try to disable some of their defensive power. Until we can. . . ."
"Enterprise hailing," Julio almost winced as he said it.
"Go ahead," Trip nodded, sitting back, even as Acheron began to move.
STE
"What the hell do you want?" Trip asked as soon as his image was on the screen. His flat voice, lack of animation, and hatred in his eyes were all in contradiction to the activity around him.
"Trip, we have to stop that thing," Archer said at once.
"Oh, so now you agree with me?," Trip snarled.
"Trip, we can talk about that later," Jon tried to soothe. "Right now we've got a problem."
"A problem that we didn't have to have," Trip refused to let go. "One I had an answer for. Now, when you see that I was right, you call wanting my help?" He leaned forward.
"Has it occurred to you that even Acheron might not be able to damage that thing? Did you notice how big that sum-bitch is, or how much firepower it has?"
"Trip, dammit, I said I was wrong," Jon shot back. "I need. . . ."
"I couldn't give a damn what you need," Trip almost growled. "Talk to your damn friends, get me the specs on this thing. Maybe there's a weakness somewhere we can find. You'd better pray there is," he added. "Otherwise, I imagine Earth is gonna be a glowin' ember by the time they're through." He made a cutting motion, and the screen went blank.
"T'Pol, contact Keras, and see if what Trip wants is available," Jon ordered, his voice thick. He sat heavily in his chair, waiting for the giant craft to enter weapon's range.
Trip was right. Had been all along. And his own hesitation might now end in the death of their planet.
STE
"Anything?" Trip asked, walking to where Kron was preparing to engage.
"No, My Lord. Nothing."
"Maybe we'll find somethin' if we get the plans for it," Trip informed him. "Meanwhile, do what you can. Get Julio to call Enterprise, and have them tell the Xindi to target wherever you're going to. Might get lucky, anyway."
"Aye, sir," Kron nodded, and moved to follow his orders. Trip walked around the bridge, a word here, a pat on the back there, working to reassure his crew that they would figure something out. Some of them called Earth home, after all.
He made his way back to his seat, where Neera waited, standing.
"Trip, I. . . ."
"I don' wanna hear it," Trip held up a hand, stopping her. "Not right now, and maybe not ever. Just. . .just do your job."
"Very well," she said softly, nodding once. She turned to her station, preparing for when they were in range. There wasn't really anything she could say, anyway.
Not that mattered.
STE
"And this is all of it?" Trip asked, looking at the exploded view of the plans for the massive Xindi vessel.
"According to Keras, yes," Jon replied.
"Well, we're screwed then," Trip sighed. Acheron rocked slightly, taking fire from the massive vessel. "There's nothin' here. Whoever designed the damn thing did a bang up job."
"There has to be something we can do," Jon insisted.
"I'm all ears," Trip shot back. "Please, enlighten me."
"Trip, we don't have time for that," Jon snapped. "I know you're pissed at me. . . ."
"No, I hate you," Trip said flatly. "Because of you and certain. . .other people," he pointedly didn't look at Neera, "I'm about to have to. . .well, that don't matter. You need to stand by. I'll be back to you shortly." He cut the feed, and looked at Julio.
"My ready room, Mister Givens," he ordered tersely. "The rest of you, back to your posts. You as well, Tala," he ordered, this time a bit more gently. "We should be able to keep up with this thing on one warp engine. Tap engine two for increased power to weapons mounts."
"Aye, My Lord," she nodded, and hurried on her way. Trip walked to his ready room, stalked actually, with Julio Givens following.
"Can we survive in vacuum?" Trip asked abruptly.
"Uh. . .I dunno," Julio stammered. "That I know of, no one has ever tried."
"Well, doesn't matter. I'm about to order the crew to shuttles and lifeboats," he surprised the hacker. "Neera probably won't want to go. Can you knock her out with something, and make sure she gets off the ship?"
"Not if I want to live," Julio replied, shivering.
"Can you or not?" Trip demanded. "I ain't got time for the bull-shit today, Mister."
"Yes," Julio sighed. "I can. I need about five minutes."
"Get it done at once," Trip ordered. Julio departed, and Trip commed Delana.
"What's wrong?" she asked without preamble.
"I'm going to have to do something pretty stupid in a few minutes," Trip informed her. "Before I do, I'm going to order everyone to abandon Acheron. Make sure you're on one of those shuttles."
"You'll need your doctor," Delana objected.
"Where I'm goin', doctors ain't no good," Trip snorted. "Five minutes." He shut the com off before the doctor could answer. Looking around his ready room, Trip sighed. How did all of this get so messed up? he shook his head. He took a deep breath, and headed for the bridge. As soon as he arrived, he walked straight to Kron's station.
"Can you direct the ship's computer to fire the guns autonomously?" he demanded.
"Yes, sir."
"Then do so, and prepare to abandon ship. I'll take if from here."
"Sir, I will sta. . . ."
"You'll do what I tell ya," Trip hissed, and the Klingon bowed at once.
"Of course, My Lord."
"Set the weapons, then arm the nukes," Trip ordered. "After that, get to a pod."
Kron studied the man before him, and realization dawned in his eyes. Stiffening, he saluted.
"As you wish."
Trip's next visit was to Jason Hunter.
"I'm about to order everyone to abandon ship," he said simply. "I want you and three of your strongest people on Neera's shuttle when it launches. I don't know what she'll do, but I want you nearby, in case she has to be restrained."
"Ah, sir. . . ."
"Don't even think of arguing with me," Trip warned. "And send Trina to get Delana. Doctor Grix is her only responsibility in life, starting now. I want her on a boat, five minutes ago." He paused.
"I'll have Enterprise standing by to retrieve the boats and pods. Good luck."
"Sir," Hunter nodded, and was off, carrying out his orders.
"Ready, m'Lord," Givens whispered, walking by him. Trip nodded.
"Ship wide, Mister Givens," he ordered calmly. "Jerry, get to a pod. I got it," he murmured to Trail, moving to the helm.
"I'll stay with you, sir," Trail all but whispered.
"Nah, better let me, this time," Trip smiled. He handed the boomer the PADD he'd been carrying. "Give this to Kov when you get back. Few ideas for upgrades. And some other stuff. Tell'im to send it to Janos."
"I. . .yes, sir," Trail nodded, accepting the PADD. "It's been a rare privilege, My Lord."
"Same here," Trip smiled again, taking the man's hand. "Go on, now."
"Ship wide, sir," Julio said.
"Attention all hands," Trip spoke slowly, clearly. "This is the Captain. All hands prepare to abandon ship. Thank you all, for everything. Godspeed." He made a cutting motion.
"Get me Enterprise," he ordered. He turned to look at Dru'hak. The elder Klingon had been watching him.
"I need you to do something for me."
"You have but to name it," the towering Dru'hak replied.
"Make sure Tala gets on a pod or a shuttle. That's my last command to you, my friend. Now go."
"I will see it done," Dru'hak nodded. "Today is a good day, My Lord." He then ran to get the little Andorian engineer.
"What are you doing?" Neera asked, concern in her face.
"Don't let it worry ya," he told her. "Just get to the pods," he added as Hunter and two others arrived.
"Not until you do!" she insisted.
"Julio," Trip ordered. The tech was behind her already, and at Trip's word, reached up, hitting Neera in the neck with a hypo.
"What. . . ." Whatever he had used worked fast, and the tech caught her as she collapsed.
"Get goin'," he ordered as Archer appeared on the screen.
STE
"My crew is abandonin' ship," Trip said without fanfare. "You make sure every pod, every shuttle, get's picked up, and that my crew get back to Earth."
"What are you doing?" Jon asked, a sudden dread in his stomach.
"Don't let it bother ya," Trip snapped back, taking the helm of Acheron. "Mal!"
"Here, mate," Reed appeared. He had a sick look on his face.
"Thanks, Malcolm," Trip said simply. "For bein' my friend. Remember what he said. Good luck."
"Trip," Reed started, then stopped, nodding. "I will, mate. I promise."
"Take care." Trip nodded, and the signal was gone.
"Get him back!" Jon ordered. Hoshi tried but looked to him, shaking her head.
"Acheron's pods are ejecting," T'Pol said, watching her screen. "Shuttles are launching."
"Acheron not responding," Hoshi sobbed. "I. . .I think he's the only one left on board," she added.
"Concur," T"Pol's voice was strangely subdued. "One life sign registers on Acheron. Human."
"He can't," Jon whispered.
"I believe he is," T'Pol replied, correctly assuming what Archer meant. "It is the only conclusion that fits the data. Acheron's speed is increasing."
STE
Trip sat at the helm, course already set. He reached into his pocket, and removed the Dracula doll, looking at it fondly. It made him think of a simpler, easier, far less complicated time.
"Shame I had to grow up," he said aloud.
What are you doing, Charles?
"Hey there," Trip said aloud. "Wondered when I'd hear from ya."
You are going to sacrifice yourself, the symbiot said.
"Well, I'd rather not think of it like that," Trip chuckled. "But, yeah."
A worthy act, the symbiot agreed. One worthy of remembrance.
"You say so," Trip shrugged, making a slight adjustment to the helm. "Sorry we won't get to know each other better."
Do not be concerned. It is as it must be.
"No, it didn't have to be this way," Trip shook his head. "I could'a put an end to this days ago. But I let people talk me out of it. Now, well. . .I guess you're right. Now, this is how it's gotta be. I never thought I'd be out here all alone."
You will not be alone, the symbiot's voice was kind. I will be with you to the end.
"Thanks, buddy," Trip chuckled. "I'm sorry you gotta go with me."
Do not be. It is of no consequence. And I would not desert you, even if I could.
Trip nodded to himself, and made another correction to the ship's course. The weapon was looming pretty large in the screen, now.
"Lizzie, I'm sorry, honey," he said aloud. "Maybe I'll get to see you again, this way."
STE
"Commander, the unknown vessel is. . .I think he intends to ram the weapon."
"So I see," the ship's commander nodded, moving around the bridge. "All power to shields," he ordered.
"Are we going to attack?" his Second asked.
"No point," the Commander shook his head. "And I doubt we could help, anyway," he added reluctantly. "There is one thing, however." He spoke softly to his XO for a few seconds, and she nodded, hurrying off the bridge.
"Move us in closer," he ordered.
STE
"Hoshi, get Trip back on line!" Archer demanded.
"Sir, I can't," Hoshi explained. "There's no one but him still aboard, and I'd say he's flying. He can't respond." And probably wouldn't, if he could, she didn't add. She wiped away some of the tears flowing down her cheeks.
"Then move us in to. . . ."
"We cannot," T'Pol cut him off. "We are currently recovering escape pods and shuttle occupants. We cannot abandon them."
Archer fumed as he realized she was right. There was nothing he could do.
"Acheron is on a collision course with the weapon platform," T'Pol's voice might have shown the slightest emotion. "Course is being updated."
"Dammit Trip!" Jon almost yelled. "Don't do this!"
"It's the only option," Reed intoned, his face a mask. "He knows it."
"I refuse to believe there's not another way!" Archer shot back.
"There was another way," Reed's voice was remorseless. "There was a threat, on the ground, and Trip had a way to destroy it."
"This isn't the time for second guessing!" Archer's voice might have been tinged with guilt.
"Nor am I," Reed shrugged. "Once this thing had it's shields up, there's nothing we can do to it. Not even Acheron is that strong."
"Acheron is still increasing speed," T'Pol informed them. Her cool exterior was definitely starting to crack.
"Hoshi. . ." Archer started, then stopped. Hoshi couldn't make Trip answer. There was no point in hurting her worse.
"The Xindi are retreating," T'Pol informed him. "They are offering to assist in recovery of the pods."
"Do we need them?" he asked.
"No," she informed him. "We have the situation under control."
"Then tell'em thanks, but we've got it." Jon drew a deep breath, watching helplessly as his best friend moved to correct a mistake that he, Archer, had made.
"I'm sorry," he said softly. "Trip, I am so very sorry."
STE
"Are you ready?" The Commander asked.
"Yes, sir," came the prompt reply. "We're almost close enough."
"Don't wait for the command," he ordered. "If you get the chance, take it."
"Aye, sir," she replied.
STE
Trip made a course correction, watching as the platform grew in the viewer. The Xindi ships were falling back, he noted. That left him and Acheron as the only target available, and the platform weapon began to focus all their firepower on the rapidly approaching battle cruiser.
"Yeah, too late for that," Trip murmured darkly. Both of Acheron's warp engines were tied into the shield generators. Eventually, with time, the giant Xindi weapon could batter the shields down, but that was time Trip had no intention of giving them.
"Wish I could'a called mah folks," he mused to himself. "Reckon somebody'll tell'em."
You are a fine representative of your kind, Charles Tucker. I have been privileged to know you, even a short while.
"Same here, buddy," Trip said aloud.
Acheron rocked again as the Xindi weapons encountered her shields. Trip ignored it, strapping himself into the helm chair. The Xindi platform now filled the view screen before him, growing closer by the second. As if sensing, finally, what was happening, the platform appeared to try and change course, but the sluggish vessel couldn't get out of the way. Trip picked a spot that looked vulnerable, and made one last course correction.
"I wish I could think of something snappy to say," Trip spoke aloud, one last time. He realized he was glowing, now, and smiled thinly. He'd never seen himself do that, but everyone had always said it was. . . .
Acheron's bow hit the Xindi weapon at three-quarter's impulse. The outer hull of the great ship crumpled, but not before crashing through the armor plate of the platform, making way for the rest of the ship to follow.
Acheron was well inside the larger Xindi construct when the nuke's cooked off.
STE
"My God," Jon whispered, flinching as the nuclear light flared from the weapon's platform.
"All Acheron personnel recovered," T'Pol announced.
"Get us clear, Travis."
"Yes, sir." Mayweather guided the Enterprise away from the rapidly expanding nuclear cloud, avoiding the blast wave.
No one on the bridge spoke as the view on the screen gradually began to clear. As it did, there remained no sign of the Xindi weapon.
Or the Acheron.