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TRIP INTO DARKNESS - CHAPTER 2
"Captain, there's still no response from Commander Tucker or Ensign Crandall," reported Ensign Hoshi Sato, turning from her communications station. Her voice was steady but the worry was clear on her young face. The same worry that Captain Archer was beginning to feel as well. It had been well over an hour and there was still no sign of Trip or Ensign Crandall. He stood from his chair and moved to stand next to his science officer, Sub-commander T'Pol. The Vulcan was staring intently at her monitor.
"Are sensors picking up any bio-signs at all?" Archer asked, leaning over her shoulder.
"No, Captain." she replied. "Enterprise's sensors are still being disrupted by the planet's magnetic deposits." T'Pol hit a few buttons, then shook her head. "I am unable to read anything on the surface."
"Maybe it's just taken them longer to load all the equipment," Ensign Travis Mayweather said from his seat at the helm.
"They would have contacted us," Archer replied. "Trip said they'd be back in an hour." The captain paused then turned to Hoshi. "Can you zero in on Trip's communicator signal?" He watched as Hoshi's hands moved rapidly over her console.
"I'm not reading a signal at all anymore, Captain. Commander Tucker's comm. line doesn't appear to be open anymore." She put her hand to her ear piece as she pushed another key. "Neither is Ensign Crandall's."
Archer looked across the bridge at his armory officer, Lt. Malcolm Reed. "Prepare a security team, Lieutenant. Meet me in the launchbay in fifteen minutes. Ensign Mayweather, prepare Shuttlepod Two."
"Aye, sir." Reed hurried to the turbolift followed closely by Mayweather.
"Sub-commander, you have the bridge."
"Yes, Captain," T'Pol stood and moved to the center of the bridge as Archer joined his two officers in the turbolift.
**********
Trip could hear the crackling of a fire. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up. He tried to reach his hand up to touch the back of his aching head but something stopped him. He looked at his wrists now. Both were circled with thick metal bracelets that were linked together by a short chain. Then he remembered what had happened. Crandall! Where was Crandall? He looked around him. There was no sign of the ensign. Panic threatened to take hold of him and he attempted to stand. The same metal irons encircled both his ankles, linked together by a short chain as well. As he struggled to free himself, he heard soft laughter from the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he now could see that he was in a huge cave. He turned his head, scanning for the source of the laughter. Just beyond the fire's circle of light, he could make out the reptilian alien. He was sitting with his back against a rock wall.
"It's about time you woke up, boy!" he said. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down Trip's spine.
"Where is Ensign Crandall?" Trip demanded.
"He's dead," the man responded coldly. "I left his body where it fell." He got to his feet and moved into the light. The fire reflected off his eyes as he bent down slowly and stoked the blaze with a stick. Trip sat in shocked silence. The man was wearing Crandall's uniform, the blood stain standing out clearly. Between the pain in his head and the realization that his crewmate was dead, his thoughts were jumbled and confused. He cursed silently, suddenly feeling very helpless and alone. Trip closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Feeling focused, he opened his eyes and lifted his chin to watch his captor. The man moved slowly like every movement caused him discomfort. He had torn the sleeves from the uniform and Trip could see that his arms were muscular but the scaley skin was beginning to hang loosely. This was consistent with Trip's guess that the alien was quite old.
"There's no life here. Where did you come from?" Trip asked. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, hearing the chains clinking quietly.
"Nosey boy, aren't you?" The man looked through the flames at the commander. He just stared and Trip had to fight not to break the eye contact. The alien seemed to find him amusing and he laughed again. "I was dropped here along with two others several years ago."
"Where are the others?"
"They're long dead, boy. I've been here alone for more years than I can remember."
"Why were you left here?"
The alien's eyes narrowed in anger. Trip could tell he was testing the man's patience.
"We were convicts, banished here for the rest of our lives."
"Convicts?"
The alien nodded. He sat down slowly then stared into the fire, absently tapping the stick on the ground next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments and Trip thought the man wasn't going to divulge any more information. After several minutes, the alien's head snapped up so quickly, Trip felt himself start.
"You said you are a commander?" he asked with curiousity. "Are you from a warship?"
"No. Enterprise isn't a warship. We're explorers. Strictly on a peaceful mission," Trip replied. He tried to turn the conversation. "You said you and your friends were convicts."
"Friends!" his captor laughed. "Oh, they weren't my friends! I didn't even know them before we were dumped here."
"What were your crimes?"
"Parl and I were smugglers. Parl killed the other one before I found out what he did."
Trip swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice even. "What are you called?" he asked.
"You can call me Sir, boy!" the man shouted angrily. He stood and began to pace, mumbling to himself. Trip couldn't understand anything his captor was rambling about so he took the opportunity to look at his surroundings. The cave was huge. Trip guessed they were a good distance in from the mouth. There was a worn and tattered blanket across from him where his captor apparently slept. Against the wall to his right was a pile of dried wood. The only trees Trip remembered seeing were several kilometers away from where he had landed the pod. The alien must have made several trips to accumulate so much wood by himself. He turned his head to look over his left shoulder then gasped audibly. Propped against the cave wall was a skeleton, a few tattered pieces of clothing still hanging from it's frame.
"That's Parl," chuckled his captor. "You're actually wearing his irons. He doesn't cause me much trouble anymore." The alien reached into a pocket and pulled out a twisted piece of black metal. He tossed it up in the air and it landed in the middle of the flames. "I had to make a key in order to get the irons open and closed again. I won't be needing it anymore."
Trip turned his head to stare at the amused alien. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. He could hear the trembling of his voice.
"I'm getting too old to dig anymore, boy. You're going to help me."
"Dig? Dig for what?"
"Nothing in particular," the alien shrugged. "Just dig."
"I'm not helping you dig or do anything else, for that matter!" Trip shouted defiantly. His captor was in front of him so quickly, Trip didn't have time to avoid the hard slap to his face. He fell to his side, momentarily dazed. Slowly, he pushed himself back to a sitting position. He glared into the eyes before him, daring the man to hit him again.
"Oh it is going to be fun breaking you, boy!" the alien shouted gleefully. "You'll do exactly what I want you to do!"
"And what, besides digging for nothing, is that?"
"Kill me with your bare hands!"
Trip laughed. "I'm no killer!"
"Not yet."
"You're insane, you know that?" Trip could feel the fear building in his stomach. The alien was indeed insane and dangerously so. He reached down slowly to his hip pocket, hoping to feel the familiar shape of the communicator.
"I destroyed your little toy," his captor sneered. "And your friends will only find your transport and your companion's body. They'll never find you. I've made sure of that." He began pacing again, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "This is going to be much funner than the last time!"
Trip looked up at the alien, his eyes wide in horror. "The last time?"
"Oh yes, boy! A long time ago, a transport vehicle crashed here. Where did you think I got my weapon from?" He momentarily stopped pacing and stared at Trip. Then he started moving again. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter! I tended to the pilot's wounds. When he recovered, he helped me dig, too. He was like you. He believed he wasn't a killer either. It didn't take him very long to come after me, though. He was a lot older than you and he wasn't very strong so I ended up killing him accidentally while we were fighting," the alien shook his head in regret before he continued. "Oh everyone's a killer, boy. Everyone!"
Trip looked down and shook his head. "You're insane," he repeated quietly. The alien grabbed him under one arm and easily hauled him to his feet. Trip could feel his breath on his face and he turned his head away.
"You're insane.....what!" his captor screamed. "You're insane.....what!"
Trip was full of anger and he turned to look his captor in the eye. "You're insane...Sir!" he spat out.
The man shoved him away. "It's time to get to work!"
Trip stumbled over the chain that linked his feet together but he managed to stay upright. He watched as the alien grabbed a torch and what looked like an old belt. He lit the torch from the fire then shoved Trip further down into a tunnel that broke off from the main chamber. Trip stumbled forward for what seemed like an eternity before he could finally make out a large pile of rocks stacked against the wall to his right. He was pushed to his knees.
"Dig!"
Trip didn't move. The sting of the belt hitting him across the back made him wince but he still refused to move. After a few more stinging hits, Trip began clawing at the ground with his hands. He clenched his teeth, both from the pain and from the anger that was growing inside of him. The constant laughter from his alien captor rang in his ears.
**********
Continued.....
TRIP INTO DARKNESS - CHAPTER 2
"Captain, there's still no response from Commander Tucker or Ensign Crandall," reported Ensign Hoshi Sato, turning from her communications station. Her voice was steady but the worry was clear on her young face. The same worry that Captain Archer was beginning to feel as well. It had been well over an hour and there was still no sign of Trip or Ensign Crandall. He stood from his chair and moved to stand next to his science officer, Sub-commander T'Pol. The Vulcan was staring intently at her monitor.
"Are sensors picking up any bio-signs at all?" Archer asked, leaning over her shoulder.
"No, Captain." she replied. "Enterprise's sensors are still being disrupted by the planet's magnetic deposits." T'Pol hit a few buttons, then shook her head. "I am unable to read anything on the surface."
"Maybe it's just taken them longer to load all the equipment," Ensign Travis Mayweather said from his seat at the helm.
"They would have contacted us," Archer replied. "Trip said they'd be back in an hour." The captain paused then turned to Hoshi. "Can you zero in on Trip's communicator signal?" He watched as Hoshi's hands moved rapidly over her console.
"I'm not reading a signal at all anymore, Captain. Commander Tucker's comm. line doesn't appear to be open anymore." She put her hand to her ear piece as she pushed another key. "Neither is Ensign Crandall's."
Archer looked across the bridge at his armory officer, Lt. Malcolm Reed. "Prepare a security team, Lieutenant. Meet me in the launchbay in fifteen minutes. Ensign Mayweather, prepare Shuttlepod Two."
"Aye, sir." Reed hurried to the turbolift followed closely by Mayweather.
"Sub-commander, you have the bridge."
"Yes, Captain," T'Pol stood and moved to the center of the bridge as Archer joined his two officers in the turbolift.
**********
Trip could hear the crackling of a fire. He slowly opened his eyes and sat up. He tried to reach his hand up to touch the back of his aching head but something stopped him. He looked at his wrists now. Both were circled with thick metal bracelets that were linked together by a short chain. Then he remembered what had happened. Crandall! Where was Crandall? He looked around him. There was no sign of the ensign. Panic threatened to take hold of him and he attempted to stand. The same metal irons encircled both his ankles, linked together by a short chain as well. As he struggled to free himself, he heard soft laughter from the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he now could see that he was in a huge cave. He turned his head, scanning for the source of the laughter. Just beyond the fire's circle of light, he could make out the reptilian alien. He was sitting with his back against a rock wall.
"It's about time you woke up, boy!" he said. The tone of his voice sent a shiver down Trip's spine.
"Where is Ensign Crandall?" Trip demanded.
"He's dead," the man responded coldly. "I left his body where it fell." He got to his feet and moved into the light. The fire reflected off his eyes as he bent down slowly and stoked the blaze with a stick. Trip sat in shocked silence. The man was wearing Crandall's uniform, the blood stain standing out clearly. Between the pain in his head and the realization that his crewmate was dead, his thoughts were jumbled and confused. He cursed silently, suddenly feeling very helpless and alone. Trip closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. Feeling focused, he opened his eyes and lifted his chin to watch his captor. The man moved slowly like every movement caused him discomfort. He had torn the sleeves from the uniform and Trip could see that his arms were muscular but the scaley skin was beginning to hang loosely. This was consistent with Trip's guess that the alien was quite old.
"There's no life here. Where did you come from?" Trip asked. He pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs, hearing the chains clinking quietly.
"Nosey boy, aren't you?" The man looked through the flames at the commander. He just stared and Trip had to fight not to break the eye contact. The alien seemed to find him amusing and he laughed again. "I was dropped here along with two others several years ago."
"Where are the others?"
"They're long dead, boy. I've been here alone for more years than I can remember."
"Why were you left here?"
The alien's eyes narrowed in anger. Trip could tell he was testing the man's patience.
"We were convicts, banished here for the rest of our lives."
"Convicts?"
The alien nodded. He sat down slowly then stared into the fire, absently tapping the stick on the ground next to him. They sat in silence for a few moments and Trip thought the man wasn't going to divulge any more information. After several minutes, the alien's head snapped up so quickly, Trip felt himself start.
"You said you are a commander?" he asked with curiousity. "Are you from a warship?"
"No. Enterprise isn't a warship. We're explorers. Strictly on a peaceful mission," Trip replied. He tried to turn the conversation. "You said you and your friends were convicts."
"Friends!" his captor laughed. "Oh, they weren't my friends! I didn't even know them before we were dumped here."
"What were your crimes?"
"Parl and I were smugglers. Parl killed the other one before I found out what he did."
Trip swallowed hard and tried to keep his voice even. "What are you called?" he asked.
"You can call me Sir, boy!" the man shouted angrily. He stood and began to pace, mumbling to himself. Trip couldn't understand anything his captor was rambling about so he took the opportunity to look at his surroundings. The cave was huge. Trip guessed they were a good distance in from the mouth. There was a worn and tattered blanket across from him where his captor apparently slept. Against the wall to his right was a pile of dried wood. The only trees Trip remembered seeing were several kilometers away from where he had landed the pod. The alien must have made several trips to accumulate so much wood by himself. He turned his head to look over his left shoulder then gasped audibly. Propped against the cave wall was a skeleton, a few tattered pieces of clothing still hanging from it's frame.
"That's Parl," chuckled his captor. "You're actually wearing his irons. He doesn't cause me much trouble anymore." The alien reached into a pocket and pulled out a twisted piece of black metal. He tossed it up in the air and it landed in the middle of the flames. "I had to make a key in order to get the irons open and closed again. I won't be needing it anymore."
Trip turned his head to stare at the amused alien. "What do you want from me?" he demanded. He could hear the trembling of his voice.
"I'm getting too old to dig anymore, boy. You're going to help me."
"Dig? Dig for what?"
"Nothing in particular," the alien shrugged. "Just dig."
"I'm not helping you dig or do anything else, for that matter!" Trip shouted defiantly. His captor was in front of him so quickly, Trip didn't have time to avoid the hard slap to his face. He fell to his side, momentarily dazed. Slowly, he pushed himself back to a sitting position. He glared into the eyes before him, daring the man to hit him again.
"Oh it is going to be fun breaking you, boy!" the alien shouted gleefully. "You'll do exactly what I want you to do!"
"And what, besides digging for nothing, is that?"
"Kill me with your bare hands!"
Trip laughed. "I'm no killer!"
"Not yet."
"You're insane, you know that?" Trip could feel the fear building in his stomach. The alien was indeed insane and dangerously so. He reached down slowly to his hip pocket, hoping to feel the familiar shape of the communicator.
"I destroyed your little toy," his captor sneered. "And your friends will only find your transport and your companion's body. They'll never find you. I've made sure of that." He began pacing again, rubbing his hands together in excitement. "This is going to be much funner than the last time!"
Trip looked up at the alien, his eyes wide in horror. "The last time?"
"Oh yes, boy! A long time ago, a transport vehicle crashed here. Where did you think I got my weapon from?" He momentarily stopped pacing and stared at Trip. Then he started moving again. "Doesn't matter, doesn't matter! I tended to the pilot's wounds. When he recovered, he helped me dig, too. He was like you. He believed he wasn't a killer either. It didn't take him very long to come after me, though. He was a lot older than you and he wasn't very strong so I ended up killing him accidentally while we were fighting," the alien shook his head in regret before he continued. "Oh everyone's a killer, boy. Everyone!"
Trip looked down and shook his head. "You're insane," he repeated quietly. The alien grabbed him under one arm and easily hauled him to his feet. Trip could feel his breath on his face and he turned his head away.
"You're insane.....what!" his captor screamed. "You're insane.....what!"
Trip was full of anger and he turned to look his captor in the eye. "You're insane...Sir!" he spat out.
The man shoved him away. "It's time to get to work!"
Trip stumbled over the chain that linked his feet together but he managed to stay upright. He watched as the alien grabbed a torch and what looked like an old belt. He lit the torch from the fire then shoved Trip further down into a tunnel that broke off from the main chamber. Trip stumbled forward for what seemed like an eternity before he could finally make out a large pile of rocks stacked against the wall to his right. He was pushed to his knees.
"Dig!"
Trip didn't move. The sting of the belt hitting him across the back made him wince but he still refused to move. After a few more stinging hits, Trip began clawing at the ground with his hands. He clenched his teeth, both from the pain and from the anger that was growing inside of him. The constant laughter from his alien captor rang in his ears.
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Continued.....