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Chapter 7

When the ship slowed, Trip snapped awake. Lying in Hoshi's lap, comforted by her touch, he had allowed himself to doze. His ability to rejuvenate on snatches of sleep had served well during his Starfleet career; today was no different. His body was still tapped out, but his mind was now in overdrive. He inspected his surroundings with interest.

Once the ship landed, they needed to be ready for any opportunity for escape. Jon would be looking for them by now, but the Enterprise was probably still orbiting Obeexus. He and Hoshi were going to have to get themselves out of this, at least long enough to contact Enterprise.

His side burned and he knew he had a slight fever—his body ached and his head pounded. Conscious of his physical limitations, he sat up slowly. He turned to face Hoshi. She was still sleeping, resting against the wall. A bruise bloomed under her left eye, stark against her pale skin. He watched her for a moment; he wished he didn't have to wake her. Regretfully, he laid his hand against her face, and said her name softly.

"Hoshi. Hoshi, honey, wake up."

She woke instantly at the sound of his voice, but she didn't immediately open her eyes. For just a moment, she relished the feel of his hand on her face, and pretended they were back on the Enterprise, waking for a usual day of duty. Until she opened her eyes, that could be true.

Unlike Trip, Hoshi required regular sleep to be at her best. Even then she walked around in a fog until a hot shower revived her. "Hoshi…" his voice was growing concerned. She opened her eyes slowly, and looked into bright blue eyes. 'Beautiful eyes', she reflected. Her gaze traveled downward to his mouth. 'Lovely mouth'. Finally, she realized that the mouth was moving, and he was speaking to her.

"Hey, ya with me?" She nodded and he smiled, briefly, before continuing.

"Good. The ship is slowin' down—that means we're prob'ly at our destination. Wherever that is. Anyway, it's time to start figurin' a way outta this."

She sat up and scanned the room. "You're right. Do you have something in mind?"

"Not yet, but our best chance is prob'ly gonna be after we land. Let's just keep an eye out for now. You've still got the translator on you, I know."

She nodded again, and reached inside her dress, causing Trip to grin appreciatively at her. 'Amazing. He looks like death, and he can still manage to be thinking about that.' She grinned back.

Trip took the translator from her hand and inspected it. "Ok. They've probably already got a job for you, and as long as you do what they say, we can buy some time."

"I won't help them hurt anyone."

"No. But maybe you can slow 'em down somehow. Make it take longer than necessary." Handing her the translator, Trip stood carefully, using the wall for support. Hoshi scrambled to her feet to help, but stopped when he held up a hand. "I'm all right." He looked towards the door of the hold. "Right now, I'm gonna try an' figure a way outta this room."

Stepping to the door, he inspected the frame for a control box—anything that he could access to control the door. There was no box, but the walls around the door were paneled, possibly to conceal wiring. He dug his fingers under the edge of one panel and pulled. It refused to move—he was too weak and his side stabbed at the exertion. "Dammit!" He slapped his hand against the wall in frustration—at their situation and at his own weakness. Breathing heavily, he tried again.

He could've kissed Hoshi when she didn't caution him or try to calm him. Instead, she moved to his side without comment and shoved her fingers in beside his. Their combined strength was enough to bend the panel in half. They paused, resting. Trip braced his foot against the wall, and the two of them heaved.

Suddenly, the ship pitched violently to the sound of an explosion. Their momentum caused them to rocket backwards, tearing the panel with them. The corner of the panel bounced off Hoshi's head and she cried out. Sparks flew around them, and Trip did his best to protect her with his body.

Then, just as rapidly, the brutal shaking stopped. Trip felt Hoshi stiffen, and he started to speak only to be shushed. He looked around them, trying to hear what she did. Then it came. A low whine, building quickly to an ominous groan. At first it sounded far from them, but it seemed to be moving through the walls, filling the ship room by room, until they were engulfed in a roaring crescendo of sound. Hoshi clapped her hands over her sensitive ears, crying out again.

Slowly, the floor under them listed, and they slid across the room, along with the cargo, into the corner. Again, he tried to shield her from the objects crashing towards them. He was amazed by their luck when a stack of oblong crates wedged around them, forming a protective cocoon. They wouldn't be crushed, but they had other problems. Based on the feel of the ship and the movement of the cargo, they were gradually spinning downward. If the ship was anywhere near a planet, they would likely burn up in its atmosphere if the pilot didn't get things under control.

'Great,' Trip thought. He buried his face against Hoshi's neck, feeling her heart drum against his through her back. 'At this point, I can't even say I'm surprised.'

*******

Moments before…

"Travis, take us out of warp."  Captain Archer stood from his chair and began to pace restlessly back and forth behind the ensign.

"Anything T'Pol?"  He asked impatiently.

After giving him a patented Vulcan irritation stare, she turned back around to scan the area again. "I am picking up a ship not far from the planet.  It appears to be giving off the correct toxin, Captain."

Archer quickly looked to the view screen and said, "Let's have a look at it. Travis, keep us back far enough that we don't draw attention. Malcolm, get our weapons online."

Onscreen was the ugliest ship that Archer could remember seeing.  It was old, but also appeared to be emitting a green gas that he could only assume was the toxin.

"Scan her.  Tell me what she's capable of.  Can we beam them out?"  Archer said.

"I can tell you there are two humans on that ship, sir."  T'Pol said. "The ship has a weapon system. It also seems to have a primitive shield, but it will make beaming them out impossible."

"Dammit. Ensign Monroe, hail the vessel."

"Yes sir."

"This is Captain Jonathan Archer of the Starship Enterprise. We believe you to be holding two of our crewmembers against their will."

Before he could finish, an Obeexan man appeared on screen.

"I am Captain Viren of the Obeexan Guard. You must be mistaken. We would never dream of holding anyone against their will. It is against our very nature" He smiled showing his many teeth. Archer resisted the urge to shiver in disgust.

"Our sensors indicate that you are lying, Captain.  This is your last chance.  Release my crew.  We are prepared to use force if necessary."

Viren's smile faded.  "We are not threatened by a ship of your caliber, Captain.  If you leave now, we will grant you safe passage."

Archer signaled for Monroe to cut the transmission and took his seat.

"Mr. Reed, prepare a warning shot. Let's show them what we're capable of."

"Ready, sir."

"Fire."

A large explosion rocked the Enterprise.

"Report, Sub Commander," he said, leaping from his seat and running to her console.

"Captain, it appears our phaser ignited the toxin, an unforeseen risk. The Obeexan ship seems to have lost control. It is falling toward the planet surface."

As one, the crew turned to the view screen and watched in horror.

"T'Pol, is there anything we can do to assist them?"

"No, captain. The ship's shields will protect it from the planet's atmosphere, but unless they regain control, they will crash onto the surface. Survival of such a freefall is unlikely."

"Hail the captain. Tell him to lower his shields and we will beam his crew onto the Enterprise."

"There is no time, Captain. The ship is already sliding into the atmosphere. Lowering their shields is impossible." She paused. "Fortunately, the trajectory of the ship will take them into an uninhabited section of the planet."

"Yes, that is fortunate, now isn't it?" Malcolm spat out. He was appalled by his part in this—it was his shot that had caused the catastrophe. Dammit, he should have allowed for the toxin.

"I am merely…" T'Pol started.

"Not now, both of you," Archer snapped. "T'Pol…"

"Captain," T'Pol interrupted him. "The Obeexans appear to have regained control of the ship to some extent. They will still be forced to land, but I believe they will be able to significantly reduce the impact." She punched a few buttons and the Obeexan ship reappeared on the view screen. "They are attempting an emergency landing now."

Everyone on the bridge watched silently as the ship careened towards the surface. The craft still listed to one side, but was now traveling at an angle, rather than falling freely. It almost appeared to be coasting…until it plowed into the ground. The jarring impact and the amount of debris indicated the ship's great velocity. Before the dust could settle, Archer turned to his people.

"We have to get down there, now. T'Pol, you have the bridge. Tell Phlox to meet us in the shuttlepod hanger." Archer stalked to the lift. "We'll need backup; have some of Mr. Reed's team join us as well. Malcolm, Travis." Malcolm was one step ahead of him, already waiting on the lift. Travis rushed to join them, another ensign taking his place at the helm.

"Good luck, Captain," T'Pol said suddenly, surprising them.

Archer nodded, grim determination on his face. The lift doors closed quietly.