From Bad to Worse
T'Pol, who was again seeking to meditate, blew out her candle and rose to her feet as the klaxons sounded, suppressing a rising feeling of irritation. The universe was against her, throwing every conceivable nuisance her way simply to prevent her from performing her most basic duties as a Vulcan.
"First the commander, now this." she thought as she smoothed the wrinkles from her uniform and left her quarters, knowing that her place, whatever her current mental state, was on the bridge.
"I only wish we had a chief engineer." T'Pol thought to herself as she strode toward the lift, near which the other senior officers and bridge crew members were congregating.
When Archer saw his science officer, he almost turned her away from the lift. She looked tired and uncharacteristically troubled. But this was an emergency, and he wasn't sure that he could afford to send her back to quarters. He wasn't all that certain she would go either.
"T'Pol." he acknowledged as they boarded the lift together.
"Captain." she said in return, clasping her hands and seeming to stand at attention. "What is our status?" she inquired.
"We're in one hell of an ion storm." he explained as the lights in the lift flickered as the ship pitched.
"I see." she said, catching her balance and raising an eyebrow.
When the lift doors opened and they walked onto the bridge, only a handful of crewman were manning stations. It was the night watch, the hours when only a skeleton crew manned the bridge and the more senior officers slept. Archer made his way unsteadily to his chair, struggling against the violent tremors that shook the Enterprise from stem to stern. T'Pol relieved Ensign Knight at the science station and ordered her off the bridge. This was no time to have young and obviously petrified ensigns under foot.
Hoshi and Malcolm scrambled to their stations as well. The communications officer looked a bit pale, but, as ever in a crisis, Lieutenant Reed, who was a natural-born fatalist, appeared to be morbidly calm, but in his element. Archer glanced at the less experienced crewman at the helm and then at the lift. Travis Mayweather, an expert helmsman, could certainly keep the ship steadier, but he had yet to make it to the bridge from a distant set of quarters in the junior officers' quarters. The lights flickered again and Archer made his decision.
"Reed, take the helm." Archer ordered, selecting the more than capable tactical officer to replace the anxious crewman.
Lieutenant Reed had scarcely settled into the chair when lights on several consoles, including the science station, began to flash.
"We have lost deflectors." T'Pol informed the captain, urgency in her voice.
"Drop out of warp!" bellowed Archer, realizing instantly that the Enterprise had just become terribly vulnerable, not just to the storm, but to any debris that the ship might encounter, no matter how small.
Only a split second after Archer felt the ship begin to decelerate, the ship shuddered, indicating an impact, and klaxons began to blare, the lights flickered and grew dim, and the quiet hiss of escaping air was heard on the bridge, despite the cacophony. And in that instant all hell broke loose.
"Captain! We're venting oxygen!" yelled Reed over the din. His heart was pounding in his chest as he thought, "Third time's the charm."
"Evacuate the bridge!" ordered Archer.
"The bridge has been sealed to protect the rest of the ship. We cannot get out." T'Pol informed him, small rips in the veil of her composure revealing the same dread that was openly displayed on the faces of the rest of the bridge crew.
"Then find that leak and plug it! Fast!" barked Archer, springing from his seat to help in the frantic search.
"We are losing power to the bridge." said T'Pol in a loud voice as she left her station.
"T'Pol, Malcolm, get to that leak!" he bellowed. "Hoshi, you have to patch me through to engineering." he ordered the young ensign, who seemed to on the verge of panicking.
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