Author's Note: I'd like to thank my beta reader (and husband), Rick, for
his very helpful comments on this chapter. Thanks, Honey. You're a prince
among men.
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 6: Long Distance Call
Day 5: 0300 hours
When the door clanged open again, Trip clutched his blanket more tightly and shrank back into the corner. He mentally prepared himself to fight them. No matter what he wouldn't let them take him this time.
The alien who had brought him the water entered, and Trip relaxed just a little. So far, she had been the only alien who had shown him the slightest kindness, but he still found that he didn't quite trust her. He didn't see how he could trust any of them, after what they had done to him.
The alien, Cora, had on a green jacket instead of the white suit and helmet she had been wearing before. She took a small, black plastic box out of her jacket pocket and held it out to him. Trip limped forward just enough to take it from her hand and retreated to the corner.
Carefully he opened the lid to the box and looked inside. His eyes lit up when he discovered that it held his communicator, or at least the disassembled parts thereof. He looked up and saw that Cora was smiling at him encouragingly.
With trembling fingers he lifted the communicator's casing from the box and examined the parts. He thought they were all there, although in his current condition he was sure of nothing. It should be fairly simple to reassemble it, he thought. He had done it dozens of times before.
Trip pried open the communicator's casing, warping the metal in the process. He took the subspace transceiver assembly from the box and with one hand awkwardly inserted it into the proper slot in the casing.
Trip squinted at the pieces remaining in the box. The location transponder should be next, or was it the encryption circuit assembly? He knew the power cell was last. Come on, you can do this, he told himself.
One-handed he took the location transponder from the box and tried to place it into the casing, but it wouldn't fit. He turned the component around and tried again, and this time it went in easily. Clumsily he inserted the encryption circuit assembly in front of the transponder.
He looked back into the box and discovered that all that was left was the power cell. It seemed like there was something missing. He closed his eyes and ran over the sequence in his mind. First the subspace transceiver assembly, then the location transponder, then the encryption circuit assembly, then . . . ? The name of the next component completely escaped him. With a small sigh he pushed the power cell into place and snapped the casing closed. Maybe it would work without the missing piece.
When he was finished assembling the communicator he held it in his hand for a long moment, feeling the weight of it, staring at the Starfleet symbol engraved on the cover. He knew why he was hesitating: if he called and they didn't answer, then that meant they really had gone away and left him. Any shred of hope he might have had remaining would be swept away. He wasn't sure if he could handle that knowledge.
After a long moment, he flipped open the cover. The communicator chittered at him reassuringly. He lifted the device to his lips.
"Tucker to Enterprise."
Day 5: 0330 hours
On the bridge, T'Pol perched impassively on the edge of her chair with her head bent over the viewer. She kept her face carefully neutral while she entered the coordinates for yet another scan. She would never admit it to the captain, but she continued to hope that she would be able to locate the commander's comm signal before the away team beamed down to the planet's surface. She did not want to risk the lives of any more crewmembers in this rescue venture, and she was fairly certain that the away team would quickly be identified as aliens and apprehended.
Finding nothing at the current location, T'Pol wearily entered the coordinates for next sweep. She felt her tenuous grasp on hope begin to slip away. Rationally she knew it was highly unlikely that any of their efforts would enable them to find Commander Tucker. As Lieutenant Reed had stated, their search was literally akin to locating a needle in a haystack. However, the commander had surprised her before.
T'Pol thought back to the last conversation she had had with him, the evening they had spent together on the surface. At the time she had felt that her comments were justified. His reasoning had been flawed, and she had felt that it had been her duty to point out his errors in judgment. Now, however, she was not so certain. She was aware that her comments that night had hurt his feelings, and that to humans, perhaps Commander Tucker especially so, that hurt was felt as keenly as any physical injury.
When she had first been assigned to Enterprise, T'Pol had read the personnel files of every crewmember, and she had been surprised to discover how young they all were. Even the captain, the oldest human member of the crew, was only in his forties, and Commander Tucker was just thirty-three years old. If he were Vulcan, he would still be living in his parents' house and attending the Academy. If he were Vulcan. . . but he was not Vulcan, and she did not wish him to be. He was who he was--and she had hurt him.
T'Pol closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, she was surprised to discover that a faint, blinking red dot had appeared in the lower left corner of her viewscreen. She stared at it for a moment, nonplussed.
Without taking her eyes off the viewscreen, T'Pol reached out for the comm button. Before she touched the controls, a crackling sound came from the speakers. T'Pol turned her head and stared at the source of the sound.
"Tucker to Enterprise," said a familiar voice, faint and overlaid with static. T'Pol's eyebrow climbed nearly into her hair. She slapped the comm. button.
"Enterprise. T'Pol here," she said calmly. "Commander, are you . . . all right?"
"T-T'Pol?"
"Yes, Commander. I'm reading your position. I'm attempting to establish a transporter lock." T'Pol gestured to a nearby crewmember to call for the captain while she entered the data into the computer. A moment later the controls beeped at her.
"The transporter is not able to lock onto your position, Commander."
"I think . . . un . . . gr . . ." The signal faded out and in again.
"Are you in danger?"
The only response was a crackling sound, then static.
"Commander, can you hear me?" No response. T'Pol heard the bridge doors swish open and a second later Archer was leaning over her shoulder.
"Commander, come in please," T'Pol said after a moment. Still no response. She turned in her chair to face the captain.
"Did you talk to him?" Archer asked eagerly.
"Only briefly. The signal was weak."
"Did you get his location?"
"Yes, Captain." T'Pol leaned over her viewer and zoomed in on the blinking red dot which was still visible on the small screen.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's beam him up."
"I was unable to establish a transporter lock."
"Then I'll beam down."
"The residual interference in the area prevents safe use of the transporters. Even if you reached the surface intact, it would be impossible for us to transport you back to Enterprise."
"Are you telling me we know where he is but we can't rescue him?"
"Not exactly. I believe there is another way, Captain."
"Tucker to Enterprise. Come in, T'Pol!" Trip shouted into the communicator, but it was no use. The signal was gone.
He struggled to his feet and limped to the door. Cora was on her feet too, watching him. Trip hoped he could communicate what he wanted. Reaching up, he pulled on the doorhandle.
"I need to get outside," he pleaded as he tugged on the door. "I need to get outside so I can call my friends again." The alien stared at him in apparent indecision. What if she decides not to help me, he thought in a panic.
Finally the alien took a step toward the door and Trip hurriedly drew back. Even though she had been kind to him, Trip still felt a cold knot of fear in his stomach at the thought of being touched by her.
The alien pressed the pad that unlocked the door, and then she spoke in her guttural language and held up her hand in an obvious signal for him to stay.
"No, you don't understand. I need to go. Please!" He pointed at the half- open door.
The alien nodded at him and held up her hand again. Trip started for the door, but she held out her arm to block his path.
"Are you gonna let me out or not?" he asked in frustration. The alien pointed to the opposite corner of the cell.
Trip took a halting step toward the corner. The alien smiled at him, spoke a few words accompanied by rapid gesturing, and pointed again. He took another step. With the smile still in place, the alien slipped out the door and pulled it shut behind her.
Sighing in resignation, Trip eased himself back down into the corner and tucked the blanket around his legs. Now that his stomach was no longer empty, it was starting to rebel again. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from throwing up.
He wasn't sure whether to let himself believe that he might be rescued. He was almost positive that the images he had seen after they injected him the last time weren't real, but now he was starting to lose track of reality all together. Had he really just spoken to T'Pol? Was she really alive? He found that he didn't know, and he hated the feeling of loss of control that went along with not knowing.
Trip closed his eyes and tried to feel optimistic about his chances of survival, but there was simply nothing there. He felt completely empty, hollow inside from more than just hunger. The more he thought about it, the more intense the feeling of emptiness became, until he was almost crushed by the weight of it.
Day 5: 0345 hours
qoRa~ stopped outside the door to the alien's cell and took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if she could really do this. Could she really throw away her career, perhaps even her life, to rescue an alien, not even a real person, but a thing from another planet? She pondered that Xu'~ might be right; others of his kind might at this moment be planning an attack on her planet.
Unbidden the image of the alien's smile sprang to her mind. He may not have been from her planet, but there was no question in her mind that he was indeed a person, with as much right to live as anyone else. Straightening her shoulders, she strode down the corridor.
When she reached her destination, qoRa~ carefully looked both ways down the hallway before unlocking and opening the door. Once inside, she took scanned the labels on several plastic boxes of various sizes stacked on the shelves.
After a short search she found the box she was looking for. She opened it and peeked inside. The contents appeared to be intact. She closed the box and tucked it into her pocket.
Closing the door behind her, she hurried down the hall to the room where the 'uBu: were kept. The animals were pacing restlessly in their cages when she entered.
Without turning on the light she walked to the back of the room and unlocked a cupboard where the medical supplies were stored. Sensing her presence, one of the animals began to croon softly.
"Quiet, mushbrain," she whispered at the creature affectionately. It began to squeak in irritation.
QoRa~ opened the cupboard and took out two hypodermic needles. She searched in the other side but could find no more. Dropping them into her pocket, she raced back to the door, but as she put her hand on the doorknob, she suddenly heard footsteps and voices outside and she froze.
The 'uBu: squeaked louder. QoRa~ tiptoed over to it and slipped it a treat from the bag that was stored under the cage. The animal quieted.
QoRa~ snuck back to the entrance and pressed her ear against the door. The footsteps were gone. She carefully opened the door and, seeing no one, hurried back down the hallway. Only one more stop to make.
Day 5: 0345 hours
The captain thumbed the comm. button on his armrest. "Archer to sick bay."
"Phlox here."
"Tell Malcolm and Hoshi to meet me in the shuttlebay ASAP."
"But we haven't finished with the native disguises yet, Captain," came Malcolm's voice.
"And I haven't even started on you," the doctor chimed in.
"Forget about the disguises. We found Trip and we're going after him right now. T'Pol says the area he's in is mostly uninhabited."
"We're furry, Captain. What should we do about that?"
"Take it off quick. I'll meet you at Shuttlepod One in ten minutes."
Archer could hear Hoshi's voice in the background. "Thank God! I look like a Wookie."
"We'll meet you there," Malcolm said. "Reed out."
Archer closed the channel and headed toward the shuttlebay. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to do it, but he didn't intend to return to Enterprise without his chief engineer.
Day 5: 0415 hours
Nervously qoRa~ pushed the laundry cart down the hallway toward the elevator. So far she had met no one, which was good. She fingered the hard plastic cylinders of the two hypodermic needles in her pocket. If there was still only one guard at the bottom of the elevator and one at the top, as had been the case when she entered the building just a few hours before, then it just might be enough, if--and this was a big "if"--if she could work up the courage to actually use them.
QoRa~ turned a corner and nearly ran down Second Scientist RuX#. He jumped out of the way of the cart, holding his cup of hot tea up to avoid spilling it.
"Hello, qoRa~," he said with a smile when he saw her. She noticed that his fur was sparkly with droplets of water and his lab coat was soaked.
"Good morning, Second Scientist," qoRa~ responded with an anxious grin. Her hand went automatically to her pocket.
"Just started pouring out there." He ran his hand roughly through his head fur to dry it.
QoRa~ made an appropriate noise of sympathy. RuX# looked down at the laundry cart and back up at her again.
"Where are you headed?" he asked curiously.
"Um, to the laundry room."
"Oh? Interesting because the laundry room is the other direction."
"Yes, of course," she responded, flustered. "I was just going to, um, collect some towels from these rooms down here first." QoRa~ wrapped her fingers around one of the syringes, hoping desperately that she wouldn't have to use it on him.
"I see." RuX# looked down at the cart again. QoRa~ nervously chewed on the inside of her lip. After a moment RuX#'s eyes came up to meet hers again. A small smile appeared on his face.
"Did you know they've posted a guard inside the elevator now?" he asked conversationally.
"Oh really?" qoRa~ tried to appear nonchalant.
"Yes, he's standing just inside the door to the right."
"Ah."
"Well, I suppose I'll see you later."
"Goodbye, RuX#."
RuX#'s smile dropped and he leaned in close to her. "Good luck. Be careful," he said quietly. Then he turned and strode off down the hallway, leaving qoRa~ gaping after him in shock.
As soon as RuX# turned the corner, qoRa~ started pushing the cart forward again. After one more turn she saw the elevator in front of her. A lone guard stood outside the door with his hands clasped behind his back. QoRa~ spotted a rifle slung across his back and a handgun in his side holster.
Taking a deep breath, qoRa~ pushed the cart to within a few feet of the elevator. The guard's head turned toward her and he regarded her curiously.
As she took a final step, qoRa~ stumbled and leaned heavily on the cart. The guard hurried toward her and took her by the arm to help her up.
"Ma'am, are you . . ." The guard's voice trailed off as the fast-acting tranquilizer that qoRa~ had injected into his shoulder took effect. She stepped back and he slumped to the floor.
QoRa~ stood staring at the unconscious guard for just a second. If she took his weapon--but no, she didn't think she could bring herself to shoot anyone. She did not want to trade one life for another.
She pressed the button to call the elevator. While she waited she watched the pile of laundry that hid Xip#. So far he hadn't moved. She hoped he was still alive under there.
The elevator dinged and qoRa~ positioned herself outside to the right of the doorway. She raised her hand to the level that she estimated the guard's shoulder would be. When the door slid open, she hesitated for just a second before thrusting her arm inside. Feeling the needle connect with something soft, she pushed the plunger in fully.
She heard a surprised "Wha--", and then a man's body crumpled bonelessly in the doorway. Shuddering, qoRa~ took hold of his arms and pulled him out of the way. She rolled the cart into the elevator and pressed the button to take them to the ground floor.
As soon as the elevator started moving, qoRa~ slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got outside. As far as she knew, only one guard was stationed there. She also knew that she had no tranquilizer left to knock him out with.
Day 5: 0430 hours
"The storm's getting worse the closer we get to the planet, Captain," Malcolm said with a worried frown. His shoulders tensed as he fought the controls of Shuttlepod One.
The little craft rocked violently and Archer and Hoshi struggled to stay in their seats. "You're doing fine, Malcolm," Archer reassured him. "Hoshi, are you still reading Trip's signal?"
Hoshi scanned her monitor. "Yes, and it's getting stronger. A little bit to starboard, Malcolm. About twenty degrees."
The shuttle's nose dipped to the left and a suddenly a bright spike of light flashed across the bow.
"What was that?" Hoshi asked anxiously.
"Lightning," Malcolm replied. "Don't worry, the pod can handle a lightning strike, as long as it's not directly to the engines."
Day 5: 0425 hours
Trip lay very still under the pile of laundry and tried to breathe noiselessly. His arm hurt worse than ever, and it was all he could do to keep from gasping in pain.
He was fairly sure they were in the elevator now, because he could feel the upward movement. That meant they were close to being outside, and then he could try to call Enterprise again. Trip clutched the communicator more tightly in his right hand.
Suddenly Trip heard a grinding and squealing that sounded like hydraulic brakes engaging, and then the upward motion stopped. He held his breath in fear that they had been discovered.
"Xip#," a voice whispered. Trip forced himself to remain still. "Xip#!" said the voice again, a little louder.
Frowning in confusion, Trip moved slightly and peeked out. He jerked back when he discovered that the alien was leaning over the basket. When she saw him she thrust another black plastic box at him.
Trip tucked his communicator into his blanket and carefully reached out and took the box. With one hand he awkwardly pried the lid off and looked inside. When he saw the contents his jaw dropped.
"My phaser!" he cried in excitement. He set the box down and pulled out the weapon. It was in one piece and, surprisingly, looked like it might still work. He thumbed the controls and was rewarded with a high pitched whine that indicated the phaser was powering up.
Trip looked at Cora, who was watching him with an anxious expression. With a start he realized that she was afraid he might shoot her. He smiled at her and very deliberately pointed the muzzle of the weapon down.
Cora pointed at the door and said a few words. When Trip gave her a confused look, she formed her hands in the shape of a weapon and made a shooting noise toward the door. Trip grinned and nodded in comprehension.
The alien returned the nod, and then hit a control on the wall. Groaning, the elevator resumed its ascent.
When the doors slid open, Trip poked his head out over the side of the laundry basket. He caught sight of an enormous furry alien standing just outside the elevator.
The man's giant, shaggy head turned his direction and Trip fired the phaser instinctively. A beam of light lanced out and caught the alien in the chest. He fell heavily to the ground.
Trip peered into the darkness. It was raining hard; he could see the drops kicking up little clumps of mud as they struck the ground. Very carefully he started to climb out of the basket.
He almost lost his balance and felt Cora's hand on his arm. He shook it off and climbed out on his own. The cold knot, which had almost disappeared when he saw his phaser, reformed in his stomach.
Standing on his bare feet in the mud, Trip began to fish around in the blanket for his communicator, but came up empty. "Shit!" he swore under his breath. "It was just here!"
By now the rainwater was beginning to soak through the blanket and onto his bare skin underneath. He shivered involuntarily and looked up at the sky. All he could see was darkness.
A bolt of lightning cut a jagged path across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. Trip winced. Suddenly he heard shouts and he turned to see two huge figures emerging from the shadows.
Trip shakily aimed the phaser and fired, dropping one of the monsters. The second alien started running toward him, weapon raised. Trip fired again and that one joined his companion on the ground.
Trip's arm dropped and he stood trembling in the soaking rain. He wobbled a little and then he felt Cora's arms around him, steadying him. This time he didn't have the strength to fight it.
~*~*~*~*~
~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 6: Long Distance Call
Day 5: 0300 hours
When the door clanged open again, Trip clutched his blanket more tightly and shrank back into the corner. He mentally prepared himself to fight them. No matter what he wouldn't let them take him this time.
The alien who had brought him the water entered, and Trip relaxed just a little. So far, she had been the only alien who had shown him the slightest kindness, but he still found that he didn't quite trust her. He didn't see how he could trust any of them, after what they had done to him.
The alien, Cora, had on a green jacket instead of the white suit and helmet she had been wearing before. She took a small, black plastic box out of her jacket pocket and held it out to him. Trip limped forward just enough to take it from her hand and retreated to the corner.
Carefully he opened the lid to the box and looked inside. His eyes lit up when he discovered that it held his communicator, or at least the disassembled parts thereof. He looked up and saw that Cora was smiling at him encouragingly.
With trembling fingers he lifted the communicator's casing from the box and examined the parts. He thought they were all there, although in his current condition he was sure of nothing. It should be fairly simple to reassemble it, he thought. He had done it dozens of times before.
Trip pried open the communicator's casing, warping the metal in the process. He took the subspace transceiver assembly from the box and with one hand awkwardly inserted it into the proper slot in the casing.
Trip squinted at the pieces remaining in the box. The location transponder should be next, or was it the encryption circuit assembly? He knew the power cell was last. Come on, you can do this, he told himself.
One-handed he took the location transponder from the box and tried to place it into the casing, but it wouldn't fit. He turned the component around and tried again, and this time it went in easily. Clumsily he inserted the encryption circuit assembly in front of the transponder.
He looked back into the box and discovered that all that was left was the power cell. It seemed like there was something missing. He closed his eyes and ran over the sequence in his mind. First the subspace transceiver assembly, then the location transponder, then the encryption circuit assembly, then . . . ? The name of the next component completely escaped him. With a small sigh he pushed the power cell into place and snapped the casing closed. Maybe it would work without the missing piece.
When he was finished assembling the communicator he held it in his hand for a long moment, feeling the weight of it, staring at the Starfleet symbol engraved on the cover. He knew why he was hesitating: if he called and they didn't answer, then that meant they really had gone away and left him. Any shred of hope he might have had remaining would be swept away. He wasn't sure if he could handle that knowledge.
After a long moment, he flipped open the cover. The communicator chittered at him reassuringly. He lifted the device to his lips.
"Tucker to Enterprise."
Day 5: 0330 hours
On the bridge, T'Pol perched impassively on the edge of her chair with her head bent over the viewer. She kept her face carefully neutral while she entered the coordinates for yet another scan. She would never admit it to the captain, but she continued to hope that she would be able to locate the commander's comm signal before the away team beamed down to the planet's surface. She did not want to risk the lives of any more crewmembers in this rescue venture, and she was fairly certain that the away team would quickly be identified as aliens and apprehended.
Finding nothing at the current location, T'Pol wearily entered the coordinates for next sweep. She felt her tenuous grasp on hope begin to slip away. Rationally she knew it was highly unlikely that any of their efforts would enable them to find Commander Tucker. As Lieutenant Reed had stated, their search was literally akin to locating a needle in a haystack. However, the commander had surprised her before.
T'Pol thought back to the last conversation she had had with him, the evening they had spent together on the surface. At the time she had felt that her comments were justified. His reasoning had been flawed, and she had felt that it had been her duty to point out his errors in judgment. Now, however, she was not so certain. She was aware that her comments that night had hurt his feelings, and that to humans, perhaps Commander Tucker especially so, that hurt was felt as keenly as any physical injury.
When she had first been assigned to Enterprise, T'Pol had read the personnel files of every crewmember, and she had been surprised to discover how young they all were. Even the captain, the oldest human member of the crew, was only in his forties, and Commander Tucker was just thirty-three years old. If he were Vulcan, he would still be living in his parents' house and attending the Academy. If he were Vulcan. . . but he was not Vulcan, and she did not wish him to be. He was who he was--and she had hurt him.
T'Pol closed her eyes momentarily. When she opened them, she was surprised to discover that a faint, blinking red dot had appeared in the lower left corner of her viewscreen. She stared at it for a moment, nonplussed.
Without taking her eyes off the viewscreen, T'Pol reached out for the comm button. Before she touched the controls, a crackling sound came from the speakers. T'Pol turned her head and stared at the source of the sound.
"Tucker to Enterprise," said a familiar voice, faint and overlaid with static. T'Pol's eyebrow climbed nearly into her hair. She slapped the comm. button.
"Enterprise. T'Pol here," she said calmly. "Commander, are you . . . all right?"
"T-T'Pol?"
"Yes, Commander. I'm reading your position. I'm attempting to establish a transporter lock." T'Pol gestured to a nearby crewmember to call for the captain while she entered the data into the computer. A moment later the controls beeped at her.
"The transporter is not able to lock onto your position, Commander."
"I think . . . un . . . gr . . ." The signal faded out and in again.
"Are you in danger?"
The only response was a crackling sound, then static.
"Commander, can you hear me?" No response. T'Pol heard the bridge doors swish open and a second later Archer was leaning over her shoulder.
"Commander, come in please," T'Pol said after a moment. Still no response. She turned in her chair to face the captain.
"Did you talk to him?" Archer asked eagerly.
"Only briefly. The signal was weak."
"Did you get his location?"
"Yes, Captain." T'Pol leaned over her viewer and zoomed in on the blinking red dot which was still visible on the small screen.
"Then what are we waiting for? Let's beam him up."
"I was unable to establish a transporter lock."
"Then I'll beam down."
"The residual interference in the area prevents safe use of the transporters. Even if you reached the surface intact, it would be impossible for us to transport you back to Enterprise."
"Are you telling me we know where he is but we can't rescue him?"
"Not exactly. I believe there is another way, Captain."
"Tucker to Enterprise. Come in, T'Pol!" Trip shouted into the communicator, but it was no use. The signal was gone.
He struggled to his feet and limped to the door. Cora was on her feet too, watching him. Trip hoped he could communicate what he wanted. Reaching up, he pulled on the doorhandle.
"I need to get outside," he pleaded as he tugged on the door. "I need to get outside so I can call my friends again." The alien stared at him in apparent indecision. What if she decides not to help me, he thought in a panic.
Finally the alien took a step toward the door and Trip hurriedly drew back. Even though she had been kind to him, Trip still felt a cold knot of fear in his stomach at the thought of being touched by her.
The alien pressed the pad that unlocked the door, and then she spoke in her guttural language and held up her hand in an obvious signal for him to stay.
"No, you don't understand. I need to go. Please!" He pointed at the half- open door.
The alien nodded at him and held up her hand again. Trip started for the door, but she held out her arm to block his path.
"Are you gonna let me out or not?" he asked in frustration. The alien pointed to the opposite corner of the cell.
Trip took a halting step toward the corner. The alien smiled at him, spoke a few words accompanied by rapid gesturing, and pointed again. He took another step. With the smile still in place, the alien slipped out the door and pulled it shut behind her.
Sighing in resignation, Trip eased himself back down into the corner and tucked the blanket around his legs. Now that his stomach was no longer empty, it was starting to rebel again. He pressed the back of his hand to his mouth to keep from throwing up.
He wasn't sure whether to let himself believe that he might be rescued. He was almost positive that the images he had seen after they injected him the last time weren't real, but now he was starting to lose track of reality all together. Had he really just spoken to T'Pol? Was she really alive? He found that he didn't know, and he hated the feeling of loss of control that went along with not knowing.
Trip closed his eyes and tried to feel optimistic about his chances of survival, but there was simply nothing there. He felt completely empty, hollow inside from more than just hunger. The more he thought about it, the more intense the feeling of emptiness became, until he was almost crushed by the weight of it.
Day 5: 0345 hours
qoRa~ stopped outside the door to the alien's cell and took a deep breath. She wasn't sure if she could really do this. Could she really throw away her career, perhaps even her life, to rescue an alien, not even a real person, but a thing from another planet? She pondered that Xu'~ might be right; others of his kind might at this moment be planning an attack on her planet.
Unbidden the image of the alien's smile sprang to her mind. He may not have been from her planet, but there was no question in her mind that he was indeed a person, with as much right to live as anyone else. Straightening her shoulders, she strode down the corridor.
When she reached her destination, qoRa~ carefully looked both ways down the hallway before unlocking and opening the door. Once inside, she took scanned the labels on several plastic boxes of various sizes stacked on the shelves.
After a short search she found the box she was looking for. She opened it and peeked inside. The contents appeared to be intact. She closed the box and tucked it into her pocket.
Closing the door behind her, she hurried down the hall to the room where the 'uBu: were kept. The animals were pacing restlessly in their cages when she entered.
Without turning on the light she walked to the back of the room and unlocked a cupboard where the medical supplies were stored. Sensing her presence, one of the animals began to croon softly.
"Quiet, mushbrain," she whispered at the creature affectionately. It began to squeak in irritation.
QoRa~ opened the cupboard and took out two hypodermic needles. She searched in the other side but could find no more. Dropping them into her pocket, she raced back to the door, but as she put her hand on the doorknob, she suddenly heard footsteps and voices outside and she froze.
The 'uBu: squeaked louder. QoRa~ tiptoed over to it and slipped it a treat from the bag that was stored under the cage. The animal quieted.
QoRa~ snuck back to the entrance and pressed her ear against the door. The footsteps were gone. She carefully opened the door and, seeing no one, hurried back down the hallway. Only one more stop to make.
Day 5: 0345 hours
The captain thumbed the comm. button on his armrest. "Archer to sick bay."
"Phlox here."
"Tell Malcolm and Hoshi to meet me in the shuttlebay ASAP."
"But we haven't finished with the native disguises yet, Captain," came Malcolm's voice.
"And I haven't even started on you," the doctor chimed in.
"Forget about the disguises. We found Trip and we're going after him right now. T'Pol says the area he's in is mostly uninhabited."
"We're furry, Captain. What should we do about that?"
"Take it off quick. I'll meet you at Shuttlepod One in ten minutes."
Archer could hear Hoshi's voice in the background. "Thank God! I look like a Wookie."
"We'll meet you there," Malcolm said. "Reed out."
Archer closed the channel and headed toward the shuttlebay. He wasn't sure exactly how he was going to do it, but he didn't intend to return to Enterprise without his chief engineer.
Day 5: 0415 hours
Nervously qoRa~ pushed the laundry cart down the hallway toward the elevator. So far she had met no one, which was good. She fingered the hard plastic cylinders of the two hypodermic needles in her pocket. If there was still only one guard at the bottom of the elevator and one at the top, as had been the case when she entered the building just a few hours before, then it just might be enough, if--and this was a big "if"--if she could work up the courage to actually use them.
QoRa~ turned a corner and nearly ran down Second Scientist RuX#. He jumped out of the way of the cart, holding his cup of hot tea up to avoid spilling it.
"Hello, qoRa~," he said with a smile when he saw her. She noticed that his fur was sparkly with droplets of water and his lab coat was soaked.
"Good morning, Second Scientist," qoRa~ responded with an anxious grin. Her hand went automatically to her pocket.
"Just started pouring out there." He ran his hand roughly through his head fur to dry it.
QoRa~ made an appropriate noise of sympathy. RuX# looked down at the laundry cart and back up at her again.
"Where are you headed?" he asked curiously.
"Um, to the laundry room."
"Oh? Interesting because the laundry room is the other direction."
"Yes, of course," she responded, flustered. "I was just going to, um, collect some towels from these rooms down here first." QoRa~ wrapped her fingers around one of the syringes, hoping desperately that she wouldn't have to use it on him.
"I see." RuX# looked down at the cart again. QoRa~ nervously chewed on the inside of her lip. After a moment RuX#'s eyes came up to meet hers again. A small smile appeared on his face.
"Did you know they've posted a guard inside the elevator now?" he asked conversationally.
"Oh really?" qoRa~ tried to appear nonchalant.
"Yes, he's standing just inside the door to the right."
"Ah."
"Well, I suppose I'll see you later."
"Goodbye, RuX#."
RuX#'s smile dropped and he leaned in close to her. "Good luck. Be careful," he said quietly. Then he turned and strode off down the hallway, leaving qoRa~ gaping after him in shock.
As soon as RuX# turned the corner, qoRa~ started pushing the cart forward again. After one more turn she saw the elevator in front of her. A lone guard stood outside the door with his hands clasped behind his back. QoRa~ spotted a rifle slung across his back and a handgun in his side holster.
Taking a deep breath, qoRa~ pushed the cart to within a few feet of the elevator. The guard's head turned toward her and he regarded her curiously.
As she took a final step, qoRa~ stumbled and leaned heavily on the cart. The guard hurried toward her and took her by the arm to help her up.
"Ma'am, are you . . ." The guard's voice trailed off as the fast-acting tranquilizer that qoRa~ had injected into his shoulder took effect. She stepped back and he slumped to the floor.
QoRa~ stood staring at the unconscious guard for just a second. If she took his weapon--but no, she didn't think she could bring herself to shoot anyone. She did not want to trade one life for another.
She pressed the button to call the elevator. While she waited she watched the pile of laundry that hid Xip#. So far he hadn't moved. She hoped he was still alive under there.
The elevator dinged and qoRa~ positioned herself outside to the right of the doorway. She raised her hand to the level that she estimated the guard's shoulder would be. When the door slid open, she hesitated for just a second before thrusting her arm inside. Feeling the needle connect with something soft, she pushed the plunger in fully.
She heard a surprised "Wha--", and then a man's body crumpled bonelessly in the doorway. Shuddering, qoRa~ took hold of his arms and pulled him out of the way. She rolled the cart into the elevator and pressed the button to take them to the ground floor.
As soon as the elevator started moving, qoRa~ slumped against the wall and closed her eyes. She had no idea what she was going to do when she got outside. As far as she knew, only one guard was stationed there. She also knew that she had no tranquilizer left to knock him out with.
Day 5: 0430 hours
"The storm's getting worse the closer we get to the planet, Captain," Malcolm said with a worried frown. His shoulders tensed as he fought the controls of Shuttlepod One.
The little craft rocked violently and Archer and Hoshi struggled to stay in their seats. "You're doing fine, Malcolm," Archer reassured him. "Hoshi, are you still reading Trip's signal?"
Hoshi scanned her monitor. "Yes, and it's getting stronger. A little bit to starboard, Malcolm. About twenty degrees."
The shuttle's nose dipped to the left and a suddenly a bright spike of light flashed across the bow.
"What was that?" Hoshi asked anxiously.
"Lightning," Malcolm replied. "Don't worry, the pod can handle a lightning strike, as long as it's not directly to the engines."
Day 5: 0425 hours
Trip lay very still under the pile of laundry and tried to breathe noiselessly. His arm hurt worse than ever, and it was all he could do to keep from gasping in pain.
He was fairly sure they were in the elevator now, because he could feel the upward movement. That meant they were close to being outside, and then he could try to call Enterprise again. Trip clutched the communicator more tightly in his right hand.
Suddenly Trip heard a grinding and squealing that sounded like hydraulic brakes engaging, and then the upward motion stopped. He held his breath in fear that they had been discovered.
"Xip#," a voice whispered. Trip forced himself to remain still. "Xip#!" said the voice again, a little louder.
Frowning in confusion, Trip moved slightly and peeked out. He jerked back when he discovered that the alien was leaning over the basket. When she saw him she thrust another black plastic box at him.
Trip tucked his communicator into his blanket and carefully reached out and took the box. With one hand he awkwardly pried the lid off and looked inside. When he saw the contents his jaw dropped.
"My phaser!" he cried in excitement. He set the box down and pulled out the weapon. It was in one piece and, surprisingly, looked like it might still work. He thumbed the controls and was rewarded with a high pitched whine that indicated the phaser was powering up.
Trip looked at Cora, who was watching him with an anxious expression. With a start he realized that she was afraid he might shoot her. He smiled at her and very deliberately pointed the muzzle of the weapon down.
Cora pointed at the door and said a few words. When Trip gave her a confused look, she formed her hands in the shape of a weapon and made a shooting noise toward the door. Trip grinned and nodded in comprehension.
The alien returned the nod, and then hit a control on the wall. Groaning, the elevator resumed its ascent.
When the doors slid open, Trip poked his head out over the side of the laundry basket. He caught sight of an enormous furry alien standing just outside the elevator.
The man's giant, shaggy head turned his direction and Trip fired the phaser instinctively. A beam of light lanced out and caught the alien in the chest. He fell heavily to the ground.
Trip peered into the darkness. It was raining hard; he could see the drops kicking up little clumps of mud as they struck the ground. Very carefully he started to climb out of the basket.
He almost lost his balance and felt Cora's hand on his arm. He shook it off and climbed out on his own. The cold knot, which had almost disappeared when he saw his phaser, reformed in his stomach.
Standing on his bare feet in the mud, Trip began to fish around in the blanket for his communicator, but came up empty. "Shit!" he swore under his breath. "It was just here!"
By now the rainwater was beginning to soak through the blanket and onto his bare skin underneath. He shivered involuntarily and looked up at the sky. All he could see was darkness.
A bolt of lightning cut a jagged path across the sky, followed by a loud crash of thunder. Trip winced. Suddenly he heard shouts and he turned to see two huge figures emerging from the shadows.
Trip shakily aimed the phaser and fired, dropping one of the monsters. The second alien started running toward him, weapon raised. Trip fired again and that one joined his companion on the ground.
Trip's arm dropped and he stood trembling in the soaking rain. He wobbled a little and then he felt Cora's arms around him, steadying him. This time he didn't have the strength to fight it.
~*~*~*~*~