Archimedes

Archer eyed the enormous packs on the ground. He hoped this was not what they were supposed to carry, there was no way anyone could lift those things. He looked around, it was early morning and the camp was already a hotbed of activity. He saw several women, looking the same as men except for the fact they hadn't participated in their interrogatory. He hoped there was a gentler sex on this planet. Talking about planet, after several days in the dark cell it felt good to be outside under the yellow sky. Even if this didn't look like anyplace he'd seen before, there was vegetation, there were trees, there was a sky, there were suns... close enough for comfort if you asked him.

He turned to look at T'Pol next to him. The swelling in her face was going down, though her eye sported enough colors for a rainbow. Her hands were tied to short tethers attached to a loop of chain around her waist. She still hadn't said more than a couple of words to him, always in response to his questions. He was still in the doghouse... But Archer was determined, if nothing else. "How do you feel?" he asked.

The look he received in return would have skewered a less daring soul. "How many possible answers are there when one is prisoner on an unknown planet that was not on the travel manifest and that one was not supposed to be on?" she pretty much snarled. She looked away and to the ground, "I apologize."

'Yeah, right,' thought Archer. If he hadn't guessed she was peeved before, now he knew.

He felt it safer to go back to considering the packs. One looked to be about fifty pounds but the other had to easily be over a hundred. Certainly more than half his body weight. Plus with his hands tied like they were, there was no way he could lift it. He looked around, wondering where Big Boots was, hoping someone would tell them they had animals for the bigger pack.

Big Boots was already striding towards them from the other end of the camp, Snagtooth at his side. From the look of things, everyone was pretty much packed up. It looked like he and T'Pol were the last thing left. The rebels formed a loose line stretching from one end of the camp to another. Several of them looked at Big Boots as he went by, then realizing where he was headed, fell into step behind him. Some were women.

Great! Archer thought to himself. Bad enough that they were supposed to serve as pack mules, now they'd have an audience too. Big Boots was already at their side. He pointed at the packs, talking to someone at his side, "The Human gets the smaller pack. You can untie his hands. The Vulcan gets the other one."
"Wait!" Archer called. Big Boots turned around. Archer motioned at the packs with his bound hands, "They're too big!" That elicited general merriment from the men and women trouped around them. Archer couldn't have cared less. What he cared about was that T'Pol didn't have to carry that thing.
Big Boots gave a short laugh. "They're small enough. You'll adjust."
"But-" couldn't he see the pack was almost heavier than T'Pol?
Big Boots cut him off. "Vulcans can easily carry their own weight and a half," he said matter-of-factly. He turned to the small crowd that had assembled around them, "Get those bags up on them and let's go."

Archer's hands were untied. There was no opportunity for escape, with a crowd around and T'Pol unable to use her hands. All he could do was stand there as the rebels lifted the backpack and adjusted it on his back. He almost fell and stumbled, catching his balance in the nick of time. That made the onlookers laugh. Archer gritted his teeth, careful not to let the strain show. That thing must weigh a ton. The sheer weight was making him sweat profusely. Thank his lucky stars he was in decent shape, but he couldn't imagine walking for miles with that thing on his back.

Her heard exclamations behind him and turned slightly, enough to catch a glimpse of what was going on. Another group had hoisted the heavier pack over T'Pol's head and was latching it to her frame. She too seemed to fold under the weight until she found her center of gravity, grunting from the exertion. She vacillated on her feet but somehow managed to keep upright, even if bent under the weight on her back. It was the first time he'd seen her give any sign of physical pressure. He could tell the strain was enormous. And she couldn't even use her hands to adjust the pack. Not that there was any way to adjust that kind of weight anyway.

Now that the entertainment was over the crowd dispersed, everyone finding their place along the line that snaked all the way to the entrance to the camp. Archer kept his gaze on the light-colored sand by his feet, his jaw jutting. The column started shuffling forward, the rebels were moving North. The men in line just ahead of him started walking and he fell in step, then T'Pol, Snagtooth hurrying them along. Archer could have done without the gadfly. Based on the noises, there were still quite a few people behind him. The rebels weren't taking any chances that the two of them would somehow fall behind and get separated.

xxx

Enterprise

"Any sign?"
"No, sir," Travis answered, "Still no sign of the convoy."
"Hoshi?"
"I'm not receiving any communication, Captain." Hoshi could understand that Trip was on a tight timeframe, even if she wasn't sure why. But the convoy they were waiting for had traversed trillions of miles of space and they'd be lucky if it showed up within a few minutes of their arrival. What was she saying? Minutes? No, hours. Perhaps even days. But somehow she sensed that piece of information would not be welcome. So she'd kept mum, simply answering Trip every time he asked her if there'd be any sign of the convoy. Over ten times already.

Trip got up from his chair and started pacing around. He had been growing ever more anxious since the ship detoured from its route to Siva. That was out of character.

Hoshi swiveled slightly in her seat, enough to catch Malcolm's eye. He nodded, he was already watching Trip like a hawk. Finally he spoke up, "We've only been around a few hours. If Starfleet said they'd be there today, but that's an ETA at best. It could take a few days." His tone was openly placating.

Trip turned to him, tongue rolling in his cheek. Then he seemed to realize his behavior was off. "Yes, yes," he agreed. He went back to sit in the Captain's chair, "so I guess we wait."

Malcolm eyed him narrowly, raising an eyebrow at Hoshi who had once again turned around to catch his eye. Something was off, his hound-dog instincts told him so.

But he didn't know what.

xxx

Archimedes

The long line of rebels was snaking over a mile or so of terrain. They'd been walking for two and three hours under the cover of the trees and the marchers were already separating between a group ahead and laggards at the back. And way at the back was Archer. He thought his lungs were going to explode. He was now walking behind T'Pol, a strategic move that allowed him to keep an eye on her, or at least on the pack she was carrying, which was all he could see.

He saw her sway, her knee seeming to give way, and he readied himself, waiting. The insects buzzing incessantly around his head were thankfully not interested in red blood. He had to keep blinking to keep the sweat off his eyes, he no longer had the strength to wipe his hands across them.

T'Pol lurched again and he knew what was coming. Just at the point when she finally stumbled and gave a knee, he fell heavily on his knees right behind her. Behind him Snagtooth swore, then shouted something. The entire column stopped as if by a ripple effect.

Snagtooth was already on him, "Get up!"
Archer was looking at T'Pol, flushed a deep green. She was crouching on her heels, breathing hard. There was a sheen of sweat on her face. He shook his head, "Sorry, need to rest. Can't do it," he said between big gulps of air.

Two or three rebels came to surround him. One of them kicked him but hit the bag instead, and Archer went sprawling on the ground. "Get up and keep walking!" someone said. A few more rebels came around. Archer drew in a ball, he knew what came next. They could kick and punch as much as they wanted. While they were busy with him, they were forgetting T'Pol.

They exhausted themselves kicking him before Big Boots came calling. "Stop it!" the leader hollered. 'Kind of too late," Archer thought and sat up gingerly. He spit blood on the dirt, feeling around his teeth for the cut in his mouth. He could see T'Pol's face from where he was and she raised an eyebrow at him. She knew what he'd done.

Big Boots was looking at the two captives seating in the dirt, his brow knitted in thought. He motioned Snagtooth and the others to the side, where they could talk without being overhead. Eyebrows was with them. Archer really hoped Big Boots would make the packs lighter.

But that hope was soon smashed. Big Boots came back to them. "So our delicate flowers can't handle the weight?" he said derisively. Archer just stared back at him without saying a word.
Big Boots turned to Snagtooth, "We'll split in two groups. I'm going ahead with the bulk, you and Dalbirach stay with them. I'll leave a detail of a dozen men with you. Make sure to keep an eye on them at all times."
"Will do, Olihander!" Snagtooth answered.
"Yes, Olihander," Eyebrows also replied.
Archer looked up at that. So Big Boots was Olihander? And Eyebrows was Dalbi-something or another? Great, now they were stuck with the one person who wanted them dead.
"We'll wait for you up North," Big Boots went on. "Oh, and make sure the Vulcan's hands are always tied," he added as an after thought.
He turned towards the head of the line and made a loud announcement, which was repeated up and down the column, "Lunch break! Everyone!"
Archer thanked his lucky stars. They'd get a couple of hours respite from carrying those goddam packs and after that they could set their own pace. It would be tough, but feasible.

It wasn't long before they were both chained to a tree, watching the rebels eat. Archer hoped there would be something left, his stomach was growling, his mouth watering at the sight of the food. He tried to distract his mind by counting his new bruises and contusions.
T'Pol abruptly looked at him, "Thank you."
Archer nodded. "How are you feeling?" he tried again.
She fell silent for a few seconds. "I am functional," she finally said.
Archer wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but at least she'd answered instead of just telling him off. Soon she would be talking to him again.

He leaned back against the tree trunk, reviewing all options. Eyebrows wanted them dead but Snagtooth didn't, and Snagtooth was impulsive. And they would be cut off from the main party. There was something useful there. Who knew what could happen. Who knew.