**********
TRIP INTO DARKNESS - CHAPTER 3
The sun had set by the time both Shuttlepod One and Two had lifted off from the planet's surface. Captain Archer sat at the back of the second pod, his fists clenched in frustration. His eyes fell upon the blanketed shape of Ensign Crandall's lifeless body which lay at his feet. He felt physically sick both for the loss of one of his crew but also with worry for his long-time friend. The away team had searched for hours for Trip but there was no sign of him anywhere. There weren't even footprints except those they found next to Ensign Crandall. The captain leaned back in his seat. He still felt the deep ache of guilt. When he had exited the pod, he had immediately seen the body sprawled out on the ground. Both Trip and Ensign Crandall had similar builds and both had dark blonde hair. As he approached the unclothed body, he had prayed that it wouldn't be his friend. One part of his mind knew it was a very real human response but it still hurt. Ensign Crandall was only 25 years old and he had died a very violent death. Jon vividly remembered the contrast of the dark red blood against the bright blue Star Fleet issued t-shirt. Jon swallowed back the tears. He knew he had to keep it together. The entire crew was going to be in shock from the loss of one of their own. He also knew no one would rest until they found Trip, dead or alive. The search would begin again in the morning.
**********
He was tired but the alien refused to let him sleep for more than what seemed like only minutes. He had completely lost track of time. And he was starving. Trip's captor allowed him water but there was no food. Trip scratched at his chin and felt the whiskers. He knew days had passed since his capture but he had no idea how many. He hadn't been allowed out of the dark and dismal cave so he didn't know how many times the sun had risen and fallen. He sat by the fire, watching the alien eagerly eat some worms he had found under some of the rocks Trip had unearthed. He had put a few of the large ones in front of Trip as he had done each time they had sat down for a meal break. Trip had refused to lower himself to eating them. His captor laughed each time and had told Trip it would only be a matter of time. The engineer watched the slimey worms twist and wriggle in the dirt. His stomach grumbled. He slowly reached down and picked one up, hearing the now familiar clinking of the chain. Trip watched it wriggle in the palm of his hand.
"Eat it, boy!" coaxed his captor gleefully.
Trip angrily threw it at the alien who snatched it easily out of the air. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed it in delight, watching Trip the entire time.
"You are a prideful one, aren't you, boy?"
Trip turned his attention to the remaining worms. They were completely oblivious to his plight. They didn't care that his back ached both from the labor and from the whippings. They didn't care that his fingers were raw from digging. They didn't care that his wrists and ankles were now so swollen, the manacles were no longer loose. Trip let out a frustrated grunt then lifted one foot and slammed it down on the worms. He was immediately pulled to his feet and shoved roughly down the tunnel. The pain shot up both legs as he moved. The alien kept shoving him forward. Trip tried to contain his building anger toward his captor. The man was laughing at him, taunting him mercilessly. He knew he couldn't let him break him. He was a better man than that. Trip reached the familiar pile of rocks and was shoved brutally to his knees. He yelped out in pain.
"Dig, boy!"
"No!" Trip responded through clenched teeth. He braced himself for the whipping but this time as he felt the sting, he turned and grabbed the belt and pulled on it. The alien fell forward and landed on his stomach. Trip scrambled to his feet and stumbled painfully back up the tunnel toward the main chamber. If he could just get to the gun. He could see the fire as he rounded the last corner. He fell, tripping over his own feet and began to crawl. The pain in his ankles and wrists was excrutiating and he felt sick. Then he saw the gun barrel protruding from beneath the alien's blanket. He reached for it then turned. His captor was walking towards him, a huge grin on his face. He began to laugh.
"Foolish, foolish boy," he said, shaking his head. "There is no more ammunition. I used the last of it on your friend."
Trip looked at the weapon in disbelief. He lifted it and pointed it at the man who stood over him. He pulled the trigger. And nothing happened. It took all his strength not to openly sob but as he was again pulled to his feet and forcefully shoved forward, he could feel the tears slide down his face.
**********
This is now my life, Trip thought as he clawed at the dirt with bloody fingers. The best and the brightest, the captain had always said and now he was digging for rocks on his hands and knees. His head pounded and he ached all over. He knew that he was sick. The skin he could see around the manacles on both his wrists and ankles was puffy and discolored. He guessed infection had set in. He would find his mind wandering constantly. Remembering his childhood, his days in Star Fleet, and his time spent on Enterprise took him away from the constant pain. He felt weaker with each passing moment but when he would stop, his captor would whip him until he started digging again. The hunger had finally passed so it was becoming easier to refuse the worms the alien kept giving him. He felt that was at least a small victory. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and the growth on his chin was getting thicker. His uniform was filthy and torn and it smelled. He felt more like an animal than a man. He gritted his teeth as he pulled yet another rock out of the ground. He rolled it over and stacked it on the pile.
"I don't want it there, boy. Start another pile over there!" his captor ordered. He snapped the belt so it hit the ground next to the engineer. Trip stood slowly and turned to look at the alien. The man looked even older than Trip remembered. He hated this man. His mama had always taught him never to hate but Trip hated this man with every ounce of his being.
"Get back to work, boy!"
Trip just continued to look at his captor. The alien stood and backhanded Trip hard across the mouth. He could feel the blood trickle warm down his chin. Trip held his ground, but his breathing grew faster. He tried to calm himself but the alien caught him across the right side of his face with his fist. Trip fell to the ground and willed himself to stay down. Then the laughter started. It seemed to grow louder and louder. Trip felt his hands ball into fists. There was no longer pain, only intense anger and hatred. The alien reached down and hauled the engineer to his feet. Trip turned on him and spun his captor around. He brought both hands over the man's head and pulled the chain tight around his neck. Trip pulled with all the strength he had left.
"I told you everyone was a killer," the alien croaked out as he gasped for air. He didn't struggle.
A killer! Is that what he had become, Trip thought as he felt himself grow cold. If that's what it meant to be rid of this man.....
"You were right after all...Sir," Trip said, his voice barely a whisper.
**********
Continued....
TRIP INTO DARKNESS - CHAPTER 3
The sun had set by the time both Shuttlepod One and Two had lifted off from the planet's surface. Captain Archer sat at the back of the second pod, his fists clenched in frustration. His eyes fell upon the blanketed shape of Ensign Crandall's lifeless body which lay at his feet. He felt physically sick both for the loss of one of his crew but also with worry for his long-time friend. The away team had searched for hours for Trip but there was no sign of him anywhere. There weren't even footprints except those they found next to Ensign Crandall. The captain leaned back in his seat. He still felt the deep ache of guilt. When he had exited the pod, he had immediately seen the body sprawled out on the ground. Both Trip and Ensign Crandall had similar builds and both had dark blonde hair. As he approached the unclothed body, he had prayed that it wouldn't be his friend. One part of his mind knew it was a very real human response but it still hurt. Ensign Crandall was only 25 years old and he had died a very violent death. Jon vividly remembered the contrast of the dark red blood against the bright blue Star Fleet issued t-shirt. Jon swallowed back the tears. He knew he had to keep it together. The entire crew was going to be in shock from the loss of one of their own. He also knew no one would rest until they found Trip, dead or alive. The search would begin again in the morning.
**********
He was tired but the alien refused to let him sleep for more than what seemed like only minutes. He had completely lost track of time. And he was starving. Trip's captor allowed him water but there was no food. Trip scratched at his chin and felt the whiskers. He knew days had passed since his capture but he had no idea how many. He hadn't been allowed out of the dark and dismal cave so he didn't know how many times the sun had risen and fallen. He sat by the fire, watching the alien eagerly eat some worms he had found under some of the rocks Trip had unearthed. He had put a few of the large ones in front of Trip as he had done each time they had sat down for a meal break. Trip had refused to lower himself to eating them. His captor laughed each time and had told Trip it would only be a matter of time. The engineer watched the slimey worms twist and wriggle in the dirt. His stomach grumbled. He slowly reached down and picked one up, hearing the now familiar clinking of the chain. Trip watched it wriggle in the palm of his hand.
"Eat it, boy!" coaxed his captor gleefully.
Trip angrily threw it at the alien who snatched it easily out of the air. He shoved it into his mouth and chewed it in delight, watching Trip the entire time.
"You are a prideful one, aren't you, boy?"
Trip turned his attention to the remaining worms. They were completely oblivious to his plight. They didn't care that his back ached both from the labor and from the whippings. They didn't care that his fingers were raw from digging. They didn't care that his wrists and ankles were now so swollen, the manacles were no longer loose. Trip let out a frustrated grunt then lifted one foot and slammed it down on the worms. He was immediately pulled to his feet and shoved roughly down the tunnel. The pain shot up both legs as he moved. The alien kept shoving him forward. Trip tried to contain his building anger toward his captor. The man was laughing at him, taunting him mercilessly. He knew he couldn't let him break him. He was a better man than that. Trip reached the familiar pile of rocks and was shoved brutally to his knees. He yelped out in pain.
"Dig, boy!"
"No!" Trip responded through clenched teeth. He braced himself for the whipping but this time as he felt the sting, he turned and grabbed the belt and pulled on it. The alien fell forward and landed on his stomach. Trip scrambled to his feet and stumbled painfully back up the tunnel toward the main chamber. If he could just get to the gun. He could see the fire as he rounded the last corner. He fell, tripping over his own feet and began to crawl. The pain in his ankles and wrists was excrutiating and he felt sick. Then he saw the gun barrel protruding from beneath the alien's blanket. He reached for it then turned. His captor was walking towards him, a huge grin on his face. He began to laugh.
"Foolish, foolish boy," he said, shaking his head. "There is no more ammunition. I used the last of it on your friend."
Trip looked at the weapon in disbelief. He lifted it and pointed it at the man who stood over him. He pulled the trigger. And nothing happened. It took all his strength not to openly sob but as he was again pulled to his feet and forcefully shoved forward, he could feel the tears slide down his face.
**********
This is now my life, Trip thought as he clawed at the dirt with bloody fingers. The best and the brightest, the captain had always said and now he was digging for rocks on his hands and knees. His head pounded and he ached all over. He knew that he was sick. The skin he could see around the manacles on both his wrists and ankles was puffy and discolored. He guessed infection had set in. He would find his mind wandering constantly. Remembering his childhood, his days in Star Fleet, and his time spent on Enterprise took him away from the constant pain. He felt weaker with each passing moment but when he would stop, his captor would whip him until he started digging again. The hunger had finally passed so it was becoming easier to refuse the worms the alien kept giving him. He felt that was at least a small victory. His eyes burned from lack of sleep and the growth on his chin was getting thicker. His uniform was filthy and torn and it smelled. He felt more like an animal than a man. He gritted his teeth as he pulled yet another rock out of the ground. He rolled it over and stacked it on the pile.
"I don't want it there, boy. Start another pile over there!" his captor ordered. He snapped the belt so it hit the ground next to the engineer. Trip stood slowly and turned to look at the alien. The man looked even older than Trip remembered. He hated this man. His mama had always taught him never to hate but Trip hated this man with every ounce of his being.
"Get back to work, boy!"
Trip just continued to look at his captor. The alien stood and backhanded Trip hard across the mouth. He could feel the blood trickle warm down his chin. Trip held his ground, but his breathing grew faster. He tried to calm himself but the alien caught him across the right side of his face with his fist. Trip fell to the ground and willed himself to stay down. Then the laughter started. It seemed to grow louder and louder. Trip felt his hands ball into fists. There was no longer pain, only intense anger and hatred. The alien reached down and hauled the engineer to his feet. Trip turned on him and spun his captor around. He brought both hands over the man's head and pulled the chain tight around his neck. Trip pulled with all the strength he had left.
"I told you everyone was a killer," the alien croaked out as he gasped for air. He didn't struggle.
A killer! Is that what he had become, Trip thought as he felt himself grow cold. If that's what it meant to be rid of this man.....
"You were right after all...Sir," Trip said, his voice barely a whisper.
**********
Continued....