CHAPTER 13;
FOLLOW THE LEADER
"Have you been able to pick anything up on internal sensors?" Archer asked of Trip, who now sat at Reed's station, considering its regular occupant was missing.
Trip shook his head, and glanced up at the Captain. "No, sir."
"Nothing at all?" he said, desperate for anything resembling as clue to their ship wide mystery.
They had discovered not long ago that Travis Mayweather had also gone missing, and the fact was more than a little disturbing. It was haunting, disturbing, and terrifying. and Archer didn't mind admitting that to himself.
Porthos pined on the floor, and pawed at Archer's chair, looking up at him with deep brown eyes. It seemed that even the little dog was somewhat scared.
"Okay, boy, come here," Archer mumbled, and leaned over the armrest, scooping the beagle off of the floor, and laying him on his lap. He began to stroke him, giving the small animal some comfort.
Trip smiled slightly, then glanced over at Hoshi, sighing. She was the only other senior officer left, and they could do with her help in this situation. Her ear was amazing, and if anyone could pick anything up in this mystery, it was Hoshi Sato.
"Have you made sure everyone knows to travel in pairs?" Archer asked Hoshi, looking at her, brow furrowed in curiousity. He stroked Porthos constantly, as if the animal brought him comfort, instead of vice versa.
"Yes, Captain. Everyone has been informed, and they know that travelling alone is unsafe right now. There's even someone keeping near Chef."
"That's good to hear," Archer said, "I don't want anyone going missing. I need to find the ones that are missing. not find that more have disappeared. Is everyone else accounted for, Trip?"
"Yes, sir. Everyone else is accounted for, and they've all been told to. well, I suppose you could call it sign in, and out of duty."
"Good. The next thing we have to do is start rooming people together. people who don't already bunk with someone that is. That includes you two," Archer said, indicating Hoshi and Trip with a nod.
They nodded.
"Hoshi, you'll go with Samson, her cabin is on E deck, port side."
"Aye, sir." She nodded once again, keying something into her console.
"And Trip, I hop you don't mind my company that much?"
"I take it I'm sharing quarters with you then?" Trip said, but a smile failed him this time.
"That's right. I hope Porthos' snoring doesn't wake you," Archer quipped, patting the dog on the head.
The young dog had fallen asleep.
* * *
The night was passing slowly, and Trip found himself staring blankly at the ceiling, in deep concentration. This whole situation had him puzzled.
The ceiling was, as it had always been, bare, blank, and dull. Nothing marred its grey metal surface, but he found himself transfixed by it nevertheless.
Porthos slept by his side on his makeshift bed on the floor, near to the Captain's bed, and the dog breathed lightly, his sides expanding and contracting, over and over again. Trip had his hand laid on Porthos' back, just to keep himself comforted in the somewhat strange environment. It wasn't strange as in Trip had never been in there before. It was the fact that he had never slept there before that had him thrown. Porthos provided a little comfort in that field, and the small beagle was doing a damned good job.
But suddenly, the little dog jolted awake, tearing Trip's attention from the ceiling, and causing him to yank his hand back in surprise. He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at the dog as it stared off into nothingness, in the middle of the room.
He pined, quietly, and tucked his tail underneath him, between his legs, a sign of submission. The dog's ears sank, and his head lowered, and finally, he scampered off into the corner, where his basket was situated.
Trip sat up in the blankets, pulling them off of himself, and glanced over at Jon, who slept soundly. Apparently, Jon was more than used to Porthos making noise in the night.
Trip stared with a furrowed brow over at where Porthos had fled, and cocked his head slightly. The dog was curled up into a small, shaking ball, and he pined quietly, again and again.
"Hey, little buddy, what's the matter?" Trip whispered, knowing the dog would still be able to hear his voice clearly.
Porthos did not even react.
That's a little worrying, Trip thought to himself, looking back at where Porthos had been staring.
He gulped down the cry of panic, and calmed himself, even though his breathing sped up slightly, and his hands shook.
The image of Travis Mayweather began to fade out of the door, like a ghost from the movies passing unfazed through a wall.
Trip found himself compelled to follow, and he grabbed his clothes, hurriedly put them on, picked up his boots as quietly as possible, and snuck out of the door, all without waking his Captain.
Out in the corridor, he found the image of Travis Mayweather waiting for him, vacant eyes glancing back at him without interest. There was no expression on the young Ensign's face, and his stood somewhat slumped, as though it was exhausting to just stand before the Commander.
Trip snapped on his boots, and stared defiantly back at the apparition.
"What do you want from me?" he asked of it, his voice quiet, gentle.
The apparition mouthed silent words, and turned, making a slow journey down the corridor away from Commander Tucker.
Steeling himself for anything that could happen, Trip followed some distance behind the apparition, cocking his head this way and that, wondering what it was leading him towards.
It had occurred to him that whatever this something was could be dangerous, but he had a vague impression that it would also lead him to answers, and possibly, the missing crewmen.
The ghostly figure continued slowly on its way, leading Trip this way and that, down this corridor, then that one, round one bend after another, until the Chief Engineer found himself more than a little lost. He was ashamed of that fact, considering he did know this ship like the back of his hands no more than three hours ago. But as he glanced about, nothing was familiar to him, no consoles, panels, or doorways. It just seemed to be a never-ending corridor, fading off into darkness.
But the darkness receded as he neared it, and a door appeared.
FOLLOW THE LEADER
"Have you been able to pick anything up on internal sensors?" Archer asked of Trip, who now sat at Reed's station, considering its regular occupant was missing.
Trip shook his head, and glanced up at the Captain. "No, sir."
"Nothing at all?" he said, desperate for anything resembling as clue to their ship wide mystery.
They had discovered not long ago that Travis Mayweather had also gone missing, and the fact was more than a little disturbing. It was haunting, disturbing, and terrifying. and Archer didn't mind admitting that to himself.
Porthos pined on the floor, and pawed at Archer's chair, looking up at him with deep brown eyes. It seemed that even the little dog was somewhat scared.
"Okay, boy, come here," Archer mumbled, and leaned over the armrest, scooping the beagle off of the floor, and laying him on his lap. He began to stroke him, giving the small animal some comfort.
Trip smiled slightly, then glanced over at Hoshi, sighing. She was the only other senior officer left, and they could do with her help in this situation. Her ear was amazing, and if anyone could pick anything up in this mystery, it was Hoshi Sato.
"Have you made sure everyone knows to travel in pairs?" Archer asked Hoshi, looking at her, brow furrowed in curiousity. He stroked Porthos constantly, as if the animal brought him comfort, instead of vice versa.
"Yes, Captain. Everyone has been informed, and they know that travelling alone is unsafe right now. There's even someone keeping near Chef."
"That's good to hear," Archer said, "I don't want anyone going missing. I need to find the ones that are missing. not find that more have disappeared. Is everyone else accounted for, Trip?"
"Yes, sir. Everyone else is accounted for, and they've all been told to. well, I suppose you could call it sign in, and out of duty."
"Good. The next thing we have to do is start rooming people together. people who don't already bunk with someone that is. That includes you two," Archer said, indicating Hoshi and Trip with a nod.
They nodded.
"Hoshi, you'll go with Samson, her cabin is on E deck, port side."
"Aye, sir." She nodded once again, keying something into her console.
"And Trip, I hop you don't mind my company that much?"
"I take it I'm sharing quarters with you then?" Trip said, but a smile failed him this time.
"That's right. I hope Porthos' snoring doesn't wake you," Archer quipped, patting the dog on the head.
The young dog had fallen asleep.
* * *
The night was passing slowly, and Trip found himself staring blankly at the ceiling, in deep concentration. This whole situation had him puzzled.
The ceiling was, as it had always been, bare, blank, and dull. Nothing marred its grey metal surface, but he found himself transfixed by it nevertheless.
Porthos slept by his side on his makeshift bed on the floor, near to the Captain's bed, and the dog breathed lightly, his sides expanding and contracting, over and over again. Trip had his hand laid on Porthos' back, just to keep himself comforted in the somewhat strange environment. It wasn't strange as in Trip had never been in there before. It was the fact that he had never slept there before that had him thrown. Porthos provided a little comfort in that field, and the small beagle was doing a damned good job.
But suddenly, the little dog jolted awake, tearing Trip's attention from the ceiling, and causing him to yank his hand back in surprise. He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at the dog as it stared off into nothingness, in the middle of the room.
He pined, quietly, and tucked his tail underneath him, between his legs, a sign of submission. The dog's ears sank, and his head lowered, and finally, he scampered off into the corner, where his basket was situated.
Trip sat up in the blankets, pulling them off of himself, and glanced over at Jon, who slept soundly. Apparently, Jon was more than used to Porthos making noise in the night.
Trip stared with a furrowed brow over at where Porthos had fled, and cocked his head slightly. The dog was curled up into a small, shaking ball, and he pined quietly, again and again.
"Hey, little buddy, what's the matter?" Trip whispered, knowing the dog would still be able to hear his voice clearly.
Porthos did not even react.
That's a little worrying, Trip thought to himself, looking back at where Porthos had been staring.
He gulped down the cry of panic, and calmed himself, even though his breathing sped up slightly, and his hands shook.
The image of Travis Mayweather began to fade out of the door, like a ghost from the movies passing unfazed through a wall.
Trip found himself compelled to follow, and he grabbed his clothes, hurriedly put them on, picked up his boots as quietly as possible, and snuck out of the door, all without waking his Captain.
Out in the corridor, he found the image of Travis Mayweather waiting for him, vacant eyes glancing back at him without interest. There was no expression on the young Ensign's face, and his stood somewhat slumped, as though it was exhausting to just stand before the Commander.
Trip snapped on his boots, and stared defiantly back at the apparition.
"What do you want from me?" he asked of it, his voice quiet, gentle.
The apparition mouthed silent words, and turned, making a slow journey down the corridor away from Commander Tucker.
Steeling himself for anything that could happen, Trip followed some distance behind the apparition, cocking his head this way and that, wondering what it was leading him towards.
It had occurred to him that whatever this something was could be dangerous, but he had a vague impression that it would also lead him to answers, and possibly, the missing crewmen.
The ghostly figure continued slowly on its way, leading Trip this way and that, down this corridor, then that one, round one bend after another, until the Chief Engineer found himself more than a little lost. He was ashamed of that fact, considering he did know this ship like the back of his hands no more than three hours ago. But as he glanced about, nothing was familiar to him, no consoles, panels, or doorways. It just seemed to be a never-ending corridor, fading off into darkness.
But the darkness receded as he neared it, and a door appeared.