~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 7: Pick up and Delivery
Day 5: 0430 hours
Hoshi nervously picked at the glue still stuck to her ear and peered out the window. Somehow she didn't find Malcolm's comments about lightning very reassuring. Suddenly she spotted something that caused her to sit up in her seat for a closer look.
"Captain, I see flashes of light."
"Relax, Hoshi, it's just lightning, like Malcolm said."
"No, this looks like phaser fire."
"Where?" the captain asked, leaning in over Hoshi's shoulder to look out the window. Hoshi pointed to where she had seen the lights. Another bright flash of lightning illuminated a figure standing next to the side of a large building.
"Malcolm, set it down in that clearing. Hoshi, scan for Trip's life sign."
"Aye, sir." Hoshi quickly adjusted the sensors to scan the area. "I've got him, Captain. One human life sign, three o'clock."
By the time the shuttle touched down with a bump, Archer was already opening the door. He hopped out into the darkness and landed on his feet in the mud, with Hoshi and Malcolm on his heels. They were immediately pelted by a hard rain that soaked through their clothes and splashed mud onto their boots. Light from the shuttlepod cabin lit up the area around them. Beyond that, though, was only a sea of darkness with an island of indistinct light emanating from the alien building.
Archer swung his flashlight in a slow arc from left to right. Halfway through the arc the light fell on a large, fur covered creature running toward them. Malcolm raised his phase rifle, but Archer held up his hand.
"Wait, Malcolm. Hoshi?"
Hoshi aimed the tricorder at the figure. "I'm reading Trip's comm. signal along with one human and one alien life sign, sir."
The alien lumbered closer, and Hoshi could see that it was carrying something heavy wrapped in a blanket. Hoshi shoved the tricorder into her pocket. She needed her hands free if she was going to communicate.
The alien stopped a few meters away and stood, panting, with rainwater dripping off its fur. It looked as nervous as Hoshi felt. They watched each other in tense silence for a moment.
The alien carefully set her burden down upright, but crouched down and kept her arms wrapped around it. The blanket slipped and Hoshi caught a glimpse of blond hair.
The captain took a step forward. The alien released Trip and gave him a little push toward Archer, who caught him before he fell.
"We are friends," Hoshi said, with careful, precise hand motions.
The alien stared at her. "You--you speak my language?" it asked with a note of surprise.
"I have learned it. My name is XoXi~."
"I am qoRa~." The alien gestured toward Trip with a huge blue-furred hand. "Your friend is injured. Tell him--tell him I'm sorry. We are not all evil. My people fear the unknown."
"I will tell him."
From behind her, Hoshi heard Trip's voice, hoarse and cracked. "Hoshi?"
"Yes, Commander?"
"Tell her thank you."
Hoshi turned back to the alien. "He says, 'Thank you'."
The alien's lips curved upward into a sad smile. She focused the smile on Trip and nodded very deliberately at him. Then she backed up several steps.
"Goodbye," the alien called over the roar of the wind and rain. In the darkness Hoshi could barely make out its hand motion. She returned the gesture and followed it up with a small wave. From behind her, Hoshi heard the distinctive whine of the shuttle's engines powering up.
Archer slipped his arm around Trip's waist and half-dragged, half-carried him toward the shuttle. When they reached the shuttle, Trip's feet moved in a feeble attempt to climb inside, but Archer finally had to lift him up while Malcolm helped pull him in.
As soon as Trip was safely inside, Archer turned back for Hoshi and found that she was still standing in the open in the clearing, speaking to the alien in a strange, harsh-sounding language and gesturing excitedly.
"Captain, sensors are picking up incoming aircraft, moving fast. Probably fighters. I suggest we depart post haste," Malcolm warned.
"Hoshi, let's go!" Archer shouted over the wind. She turned and peered at him through the rain, then began to run toward him. He put his arm out and hauled her inside.
Archer reached up to close the shuttlepod door. Taking a last look outside, he caught sight of several more bulky figures running toward them. He quickly slammed the hatch shut.
"Better take off quick, Malcolm," he said, but Malcolm was already in motion and the shuttle lifted off the ground before Archer could even sit down. He landed heavily on the floor next to Trip.
After a few hundred meters, the craft began to shake and rock with increasing intensity. Trip curled up on his side and made a noise of pain. Archer wrapped his arms around him to protect him from the worst bumps.
Suddenly there was a bright flash followed by a loud boom. The pod rocked heavily from side to side.
"More lightning?" Hoshi asked with a quaver in her voice.
"Not this time, Hoshi. We've got company."
"Can you outrun them?"
"Yes, I think so, Captain. In the meantime, hang on."
Archer peered out the window to see three small aircraft propelled through the air by a single propeller mounted on the tail of the vehicle. Each had two sets of wings on either side and what must have been a gun slung on the underside of craft. On the top, nestled between the sets of wings was a bubble, which he assumed to be the cockpit. Under the top wings on either side of the planes were two metal tubes. It was an ungainly machine, but the pilots seemed to be handling them with ease in the storm.
As he watched, one of the metal tubes lit off and came whirling toward the shuttle pod. Malcolm swerved hard to port sending the contents of the pod, including Trip, Hoshi, and Archer, careening about the cabin. . The craft rocked violently several more times as Malcolm banked and yawed to avoid the enemy fire. Archer pulled Trip closer and shielded his head. His breathing was rapid and irregular.
Finally the ride smoothed out. Archer looked up in time to see them break through the cloud cover, and then he felt that tiny jolt of weightlessness before the artificial gravity kicked in, that told him they had escaped the atmosphere. He looked out the cockpit to see the alien fighters as small, receding dots, unable to break free of the planet's gravity.
"We should be docking with Enterprise in five minutes, sir." Malcolm said triumphantly. Archer grinned.
"You hear that, Trip? We're going home, buddy."
Trip didn't answer. His eyelids fluttered open and closed again. The captain was shocked at the condition of his friend's face, deep dark circles under his eyes, lips cracked and tinged with blue. Archer touched his forehead and felt the heat rising off his skin. He had been aware that Trip was hurt, but hadn't had time until now to realize the extent of his injuries.
Carefully Archer laid his unmoving body down on the deck and opened the blanket that still surrounded him like a cocoon. Trip was shirtless and his ribs stood out starkly beneath the skin.
Archer leaned over and heard shallow, uneven gasping, Trip's chest moving up and down a barely perceptible amount with every labored breath. Archer laid his fingers on the side of Trip's neck and felt a weak, thready pulse.
He lifted Trip's right arm and discovered a phaser clutched tightly in his hand. Gently he opened the fingers and removed the weapon, catching sight of an open, bloody gash on his palm. When he moved the blanket, Trip's communicator fell out onto the deck. Archer absently picked it up and dropped it into his pocket.
Archer looked up at Hoshi and saw that she was staring in horror at the cuts and bruises surrounding Trip's wrists. She met the captain's eye.
"What did they do to him?" she asked softly, her pretty face twisted in sympathy.
Archer just shook his head. "Archer to Enterprise. Have the doctor meet us in the shuttlebay. We have a medical emergency."
qoRa~ stood with water dripping into her eyes and watched the alien ship lift off. She could hear the running footsteps behind her and the wail of the alarm coming from the building, so she knew her actions had been discovered.
Rough hands grabbed her by the arms and swung her around and she found herself looking into Xu'~'s face. The First Scientist's features were distorted with rage.
"What have you done!?" she screamed.
Before qoRa~ could answer, she heard RuX#'s voice and turned to see him standing beside her. "What we should have done at the beginning, Xu'~," he said calmly.
"How dare you defy my authority?!" Xu'~ spat furiously at them both.
A spark of anger appeared in RuX#'s eye. "How dare you hold a sentient creature against its will and torture it?"
"I'll have both of you arrested! You'll be stripped of your tenure, Second Scientist!!"
"I don't think so, Xu'~." RuX# was smiling now. "You see, I've got evidence of your actions. Video evidence. If you take any action against qoRa~, I'll be forced to share that evidence with the governors and media."
Xu'~ sputtered angrily for a moment, contorting her gesticulations into a series of cacophonic spasms.
RuX# continued in calm, even tones, making his gestures with smooth grace that irritated Xu~ all the more, "In fact, I suggest that you consider taking your retirement that you have been putting off for so long. Besides, if you do look for your evidence that there ever was an alien here, I'm afraid that no will believe you. Apparently those records have been irretrievably lost, except for the copies I have hidden away." RuX# looked at qoRa~ nonchalantly and then sternly at Xu'~. "Either way, I should think that a change in administration is in order here, First Scientist. Don't you agree?" The final part was said not as a suggestion but as an order. With a last, large swipe of RuX#'s furry hand, the indication was clear that that was all that needed to be stated.
Xu' stared at RuX~ for a moment blankly. Her head slowly moved to qoRa~ and then back to RuX~ and then at the sky in the direction of the rapidly disappearing alien ship. All the time, her gesticulations never seemed to be able to land on a specific word or phrase of any discernable meaning.
Finally Xu'~ screamed in exasperation, spun on her heel, and headed back toward the building, snapping orders at a guard who was just now picking himself up off the ground. She was so busy yelling at one guard she did not notice the other, still laying quite still on the ground. She caught her foot in his legs and landed with a splat in the cold, thick mud.
QoRa~ was unable to suppress the grin that sprang to her lips. She looked up at RuX# and discovered that he was smiling back at her conspiratorially
"Thank you," she said just loud enough for him to hear.
"No, thank you," he responded quietly. "You did what I didn't have the courage to do." RuX# jammed his hands into his pockets and shivered. "Now let's get in out of this rain before we freeze to death."
He turned and walked back toward the building. qoRa~ looked down to see the indentation created by the alien ship's landing gear filling with muddy water and finally collapsing in on itself, completely disappearing. She craned her neck upward, but could no longer see the tiny alien vessel; it was lost in the clouds.
She turned slowly and sauntered back toward the building. As she walked, she thrust her hand into her pocket and came upon a crumpled piece of paper. When she reached the shelter of the eaves, she pulled the paper from her pocket and smoothed it out. Her finger traced the outlines of the faraway sun and nine planets drawn by an alien hand.
qoRa~ folded the paper and put it back in her pocket. Casting a final glance at the sky, which was becoming lighter as the clouds dissipated, she hurried to the elevator where RuX# was waiting for her.
Day 5: 0630 hours
Captain Archer sat on an empty biobed turning Trip's communicator over in his hands. The casing was warped and there was a smudge of dried blood on the cover. Archer rubbed at it with his thumb. When he had first seen Trip on the planet, he was so happy to have him back that he hadn't even thought about his condition. But in the shuttle, after Trip collapsed, he had had plenty of opportunity to notice. He shuddered involuntarily when he thought about how pale his friend looked. He realized just how close Trip had come to death.
Archer looked up and discovered that Hoshi was watching him again, with a mixture of uncertainty and compassion on her face. He gave her a reassuring smile.
The sickbay doors opened and T'Pol entered in an apparent hurry. She slowed down when she saw Archer, Hoshi and Malcolm sitting on biobeds obviously waiting.
T'Pol crossed to Archer. "Captain," she said quietly. "We have left orbit."
He nodded. "Thank you, T'Pol."
The curtain surrounding Trip's bed opened and the doctor stuck his head out. "I've completed my examination. You can come in now." Phlox pulled back the curtain and gestured to them all to move in around the bed.
Archer hopped down from the biobed and crossed to Trip's side. Beside him he felt Hoshi tense, and then her hand clutched his sleeve.
"My God," Archer whispered. Trip was laid out on his stomach on the exam table covered to the waist with a sheet, which left his back bare. A grid pattern was drawn on his back in some sort of black ink, and in almost every square the skin was puckered, raw, burnt or blistered. There were black marks next to every wound. Trip's left arm was encased in a light cast, and his right wrist was deeply bruised. The skin around the bruising was slick and shiny from the dermaplast.
"How is he?" Archer asked without raising his eyes from Trip's ravaged back.
"Sleeping. He is severely dehydrated," the doctor said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the I.V. line snaking up from Trip's right arm to a pole beside the bed. "Left arm fractured in three places, deep laceration across the right palm with slivers of glass embedded in the cut." Phlox picked up Trip's right hand and turned it over to show the group. Archer winced in sympathy as he saw through the thin layer of dermaplast to the jagged red gouge beneath.
"His ankles are bruised as are his wrists. I also found traces of two chemical compounds in his system," the doctor continued. "One I was unable to identify. The other was lysergic acid diethylamide."
"What is that?" Malcolm asked from behind Archer.
"I believe you might know it as LSD. It is an hallucinogen."
"What's this on his back?"
"Ah, good question, Captain. I was hoping Ensign Sato might be able to help me with that."
Hoshi stepped in closer and examined the black marks. "It's definitely writing." She picked up a nearby PADD and entered some data, looking back and forth between the screen and the marks on Trip's skin. Finally she looked up at Archer with tears in her eyes.
"They're names of chemicals," she said in a soft voice. She pointed to the first box. "This one says 'liquid nitrogen', and this one is . . .potassium hydroxide." She looked up at the doctor for confirmation.
"They were experimenting on him?" Archer asked in horror.
"Hmm, apparently so. He also has torn ligaments in his right knee."
From the back of the group T'Pol spoke up. "That injury occurred prior to his capture." Archer turned to her in surprise.
"He fell, while we were attempting to reach shelter from the storm. He appeared to be having difficulty bearing weight on the right leg. However, when I asked if he were injured, he claimed to be fine."
Archer suppressed a grin. That sounded like something Trip would say. The captain looked down ruefully at his muddy clothes and hands.
"I think I'm going to go take a shower. You'll call me if he wakes up?"
"Of course," Phlox said with a smile. He turned away and began to rummage through the cupboards, humming to himself.
"Excellent idea, Captain," Malcolm said brightly. "I'm anxious to get the rest of this glue off me."
"T'Pol, will you stay here? I don't want him to wake up alone."
"Yes, Captain."
"I'll be back in an hour."
Archer and Reed filed out, followed by Hoshi who bit her lip and cast a lingering glance at the man on the table.
When they had left, T'Pol moved in closer to the bed. Staring down at the injuries on Commander Tucker's back, she struggled to suppress the unfamiliar emotions that bubbled up from inside her. She stretched out her hand and let her fingertips hover a centimeter above the damaged flesh.
The doctor's voice startled her. "He will recover, Sub-Commander."
"Yes."
Phlox stood beside her in silence for a moment, as if waiting for her to say more.
"I spoke sharply to him."
"Hmm?"
"On the planet, while we were trapped in the storm. I did not believe we should have gone there. I insulted him and called him a fool."
"Ah." Phlox went back to the salve he had been preparing.
"I . . . hurt him." She did not say what else she had done, that she had left Mr. Tucker alone, that she bore the responsibility for his capture.
"I see. It sounds like you are experiencing regret, Sub-Commander." The doctor began to spread the salve on Commander Tucker's back.
"It is . . . possible." T'Pol stepped back to watch the doctor work. He seemed completely unaffected by Commander Tucker's injuries. She found herself wishing that she could be so detached.
Day 5: 1900 hours
"Doctor, I think he's waking up." Archer laid down his winning gin hand and watched Trip's eyelids begin to flicker open. Trip muttered something under his breath.
"What's that, Trip?" the captain asked, squeezing the engineer's right shoulder. He leaned in closer to catch the words.
"Signal-signal booster relay," Trip mumbled. His eyes slid closed and then opened again halfway.
"Signal booster relay?" Archer asked in confusion. He glanced up at Malcolm, who shrugged.
"That's what was . . . missing. Signal booster . . . relay."
"I think he's talking about the communicator, sir," Malcolm said after a moment. Archer grinned.
"Well, it worked anyway. Thank God it did."
Phlox moved in to Trip's other side and helped him adjust his arm to a more comfortable position. "Good to have you back with us, Commander," he said as he fussed with the equipment. Trip began to fidget and tried to lift his head. "Please don't move just yet. We'll be able to take out this I.V. in a little while."
Trip laid his head back down and licked his lower lip. "Nice to be back, Doc." He coughed weakly.
"We're all glad to see you in one piece, Trip. Relatively speaking, that is," Archer said, taking Trip's right hand in both of his.
"Is T'Pol . . . all right?"
Archer's brow furrowed in concern. Trip didn't seem to be making a whole lot of sense. "Yes, she's fine."
"Good. How long have I . . . been here?"
"What is it, Malcolm, about twelve hours? You passed out in the shuttle and you've been asleep ever since."
"About that, Captain." Malcolm said. "We were quite relieved when you contacted us, Commander. You saved Hoshi and me from having to brave an alien city dressed as giant stuffed animals."
"Huh?"
Archer squeezed Trip's hand. "The only way we could think of to find you was to go undercover on the planet and ask around. Hoshi learned some of the language, and she and Malcolm were getting fixed up as natives when you called. I just narrowly missed having blue fur glued all over me."
"Hoshi said we looked like Wookies," Malcolm commented with a snicker.
Trip chuckled faintly. "Wish I coulda seen that," he rasped.
The captain leaned back in his chair and let out a relieved sigh. If Trip was able to joke about it, Archer was pretty sure he was going to be all right. His color was starting to look better too, and his eyes didn't look so sunken and hollow. Of course, it helped that the sickbay gown covered up the burned skin on his back.
The doctor buzzed back over and disconnected the I.V. line. He aimed a medical scanner at Trip and smiled at what he saw.
"Your electrolytes are returning to normal, Commander. I think if you felt like it you could try to sit up now.
Trip nodded. "I think I can do that."
With Archer on one side and Phlox on the other they slowly helped him to a sitting position. Trip swung his legs over off the side of the bed and leaned back on the captain just a little with his eyes closed. Archer saw him swallow hard several times before opening his eyes.
"You can let go now, I'm not gonna fall over," he said hoarsely.
Phlox nodded at Archer and they gradually eased off the support until Trip was sitting on his own, swaying slightly but apparently stable. "Excellent!" the doctor cried in satisfaction.
"How soon can I go?"
"Let's see how you do with changing your clothes first, and then we'll talk about dismissing you."
"Ok." Trip's voice was not quite as strong as Archer might have liked, but at least he was sitting up and asking when he could leave, which was a damn sight better than he had been a few hours ago.
The doctor fetched a clean coverall while Archer helped Trip peel off the sickbay gown. Archer got another good look at his back while his shirt was off. The wounds were starting to heal over, although the skin was still red and raw in places.
When he was finished getting dressed, Trip leaned gingerly against the edge of the biobed. "Did I pass?" he asked with a smirk.
"Hmm. I would consider releasing you now if you promise to rest for the next few days."
"I promise," Trip responded obediently.
"I'll expect to see you in the morning for a check-up. If all goes well you can probably get that cast off in a couple of days."
"How long until he gets his voice back?" Archer asked.
"That depends on the patient," Phlox replied with a smile. "If you drink plenty of water and avoid abusing your vocal cords, your voice should return to normal fairly soon."
"Cap'n, let's go. I'm hungry."
"Take it slowly, Commander. Try to eat some soup first, hmm?"
"Yeah, ok, soup. You got it." Trip started to scoot off the bed. Archer took his arm to help him stay upright.
"One more thing, Commander," Phlox called as Trip began to limp toward the door with the captain supporting him. They stopped.
"I have programmed the computer with a physical therapy routine for your knee. You should be able to access it from the exercise bay. Twice a day, don't forget."
"I won't."
"Very well. I'll see you tomorrow then."
They were in the turbolift before Archer thought to ask Trip where he wanted to go.
"How about the mess hall?" the captain suggested. "We can get something to eat, say hi to everyone at dinner? They all missed you, you know."
Trip leaned back against the wall of the turbolift and closed his eyes. "I don't think I'm up for that, Cap'n," he said quietly. "Can I just go to my quarters?"
"Sure." Archer pressed the correct button on the turbolift controls. As the lift started to move, he shot a concerned glance at his friend. Trip's eyes were still closed and his skin seemed paler. It's just too soon, Archer decided. Trip needed to rest, that was all.
When they reached Trip's quarters, Archer helped him sit down on the bed. "Do you want chicken noodle? I'll have chef send it up for you."
"That's fine." While Archer called for the soup, Trip carefully scooted back on the bed and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. He supposed he ought to feel something: happy, relieved, even angry, anything. But at the moment, he felt completely detached, with no emotional reaction whatsoever. Even the hunger he had felt in sick bay was beginning to dissipate, leaving only that cold knot in his stomach.
Trip opened his eyes and saw that the captain was looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. He managed a small smile.
"I'm all right, really," he said hoarsely.
"Does your throat hurt?"
Trip shook his head slowly. "No, it feels fine. I just don't have any voice."
The doorchime interrupted them before Archer could say any more. Trip felt a trace of relief. He was fairly sure the next question out of the captain's mouth was going to be, "Why are you so hoarse?" and then what was he going to say? "It's from all the screaming"? He didn't think he was ready to field the questions that would follow that bit of information.
Trip heard Archer thanking the steward, and then the captain brought a tray over and set it down on the bed next to Trip. He sat up a little and tried to get excited about eating.
"Do you need some help?" the captain asked anxiously, hovering. Trip hated it when he hovered.
"I think I can do it." He leaned over the bowl and scooped up a spoonful of soup. The chicken noodle smell, which he normally loved, was almost nauseating. He blew on the spoonful to cool it and then popped it into his mouth and swallowed quickly.
He forced himself to take another bite before he set down the spoon. He was pretty sure that if he ate any more he was going to throw up, and then the captain would just haul him back to sick bay, which is exactly where he didn't want to be right now.
"Are you all right?"
Trip closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm just tired. I'll eat something later."
"That sounds like a good idea," Archer said. After moving the tray from the bed to the desk, he pulled back the covers and helped Trip crawl into bed.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"No, I'm ok. I just need to rest."
Archer pulled up the blanket around Trip's shoulders. "Sleep tight. Call me if you need anything."
"You got it."
"Even if it's the middle of the night, understood?"
"Yes, Captain."
Archer hit the control to turn off the lights on the way out the door. Trip almost called after him to leave them on, but thought better of it. It probably wasn't a good idea to tell your captain you were afraid of the dark.
Trip lay with his eyes wide open in the darkness. He couldn't convince his brain to shut off and let him sleep. So T'Pol really is alive, he told himself. He wondered briefly why she hadn't come to see him in sick bay. Almost immediately he answered his own question: Because she thinks I'm a fool, and she knows it's my own fault I ended up being an alien pincushion. Surprisingly, the realization evoked no emotional reaction beyond mild self-contempt.
Again he tried to conjure up some appropriate emotion, but all he felt was that crushing emptiness. Maybe sleep would help. Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care, right? he thought fuzzily.
He closed his eyes and immediately images began to flash in front of him: T'Pol dead on the gurney, monsters with shiny faceplates coming at him, the weight falling onto his arm. Trip's eyes flew open, but the darkness and the images remained.
In terror he fumbled for the control to turn on the lights. The images dissolved into the familiar contours of his quarters. He sat up on the bed, gasping for breath.
There's nothing to be afraid of, he told himself sternly. Suddenly sleep seemed very far away. He pulled back the covers and stumbled to his desk. Maybe he'd feel better if he checked on the status of the engines.
Trip sat down in his chair and touched the controls to activate the computer monitor. When the screen lit up, he raised his eyebrows in surprise at the date, February 5, 2153. That meant he had only been gone for about four days. Somehow he had thought it had been longer than that.
He entered his passcode and read through that day's status reports from engineering. He was slightly disappointed to discover that everything had been just fine without him. The report noted that a routine maintenance on the warp coils was scheduled for the next morning.
Trip called up the report from the previous day and started to read, but he couldn't stay focused. His attention kept wandering. Finally he yawned and leaned on his hand, elbow supported on the desk. His eyes drifted shut.
Instantly the nightmare images returned full force. Trip nearly fell out of his chair but caught himself with his right hand on his desk, causing a sharp pain in his palm that woke him up completely.
Trip decided he would be better off giving up on sleep for a while. Feeling restless, he pushed himself up from his chair and began to tidy up his quarters. If he couldn't pull his emotions together, at least he could have a clean room.
~*~*~*~*~
Don't worry, I'm not going to leave it there. The next chapter will be up soon
Chapter 7: Pick up and Delivery
Day 5: 0430 hours
Hoshi nervously picked at the glue still stuck to her ear and peered out the window. Somehow she didn't find Malcolm's comments about lightning very reassuring. Suddenly she spotted something that caused her to sit up in her seat for a closer look.
"Captain, I see flashes of light."
"Relax, Hoshi, it's just lightning, like Malcolm said."
"No, this looks like phaser fire."
"Where?" the captain asked, leaning in over Hoshi's shoulder to look out the window. Hoshi pointed to where she had seen the lights. Another bright flash of lightning illuminated a figure standing next to the side of a large building.
"Malcolm, set it down in that clearing. Hoshi, scan for Trip's life sign."
"Aye, sir." Hoshi quickly adjusted the sensors to scan the area. "I've got him, Captain. One human life sign, three o'clock."
By the time the shuttle touched down with a bump, Archer was already opening the door. He hopped out into the darkness and landed on his feet in the mud, with Hoshi and Malcolm on his heels. They were immediately pelted by a hard rain that soaked through their clothes and splashed mud onto their boots. Light from the shuttlepod cabin lit up the area around them. Beyond that, though, was only a sea of darkness with an island of indistinct light emanating from the alien building.
Archer swung his flashlight in a slow arc from left to right. Halfway through the arc the light fell on a large, fur covered creature running toward them. Malcolm raised his phase rifle, but Archer held up his hand.
"Wait, Malcolm. Hoshi?"
Hoshi aimed the tricorder at the figure. "I'm reading Trip's comm. signal along with one human and one alien life sign, sir."
The alien lumbered closer, and Hoshi could see that it was carrying something heavy wrapped in a blanket. Hoshi shoved the tricorder into her pocket. She needed her hands free if she was going to communicate.
The alien stopped a few meters away and stood, panting, with rainwater dripping off its fur. It looked as nervous as Hoshi felt. They watched each other in tense silence for a moment.
The alien carefully set her burden down upright, but crouched down and kept her arms wrapped around it. The blanket slipped and Hoshi caught a glimpse of blond hair.
The captain took a step forward. The alien released Trip and gave him a little push toward Archer, who caught him before he fell.
"We are friends," Hoshi said, with careful, precise hand motions.
The alien stared at her. "You--you speak my language?" it asked with a note of surprise.
"I have learned it. My name is XoXi~."
"I am qoRa~." The alien gestured toward Trip with a huge blue-furred hand. "Your friend is injured. Tell him--tell him I'm sorry. We are not all evil. My people fear the unknown."
"I will tell him."
From behind her, Hoshi heard Trip's voice, hoarse and cracked. "Hoshi?"
"Yes, Commander?"
"Tell her thank you."
Hoshi turned back to the alien. "He says, 'Thank you'."
The alien's lips curved upward into a sad smile. She focused the smile on Trip and nodded very deliberately at him. Then she backed up several steps.
"Goodbye," the alien called over the roar of the wind and rain. In the darkness Hoshi could barely make out its hand motion. She returned the gesture and followed it up with a small wave. From behind her, Hoshi heard the distinctive whine of the shuttle's engines powering up.
Archer slipped his arm around Trip's waist and half-dragged, half-carried him toward the shuttle. When they reached the shuttle, Trip's feet moved in a feeble attempt to climb inside, but Archer finally had to lift him up while Malcolm helped pull him in.
As soon as Trip was safely inside, Archer turned back for Hoshi and found that she was still standing in the open in the clearing, speaking to the alien in a strange, harsh-sounding language and gesturing excitedly.
"Captain, sensors are picking up incoming aircraft, moving fast. Probably fighters. I suggest we depart post haste," Malcolm warned.
"Hoshi, let's go!" Archer shouted over the wind. She turned and peered at him through the rain, then began to run toward him. He put his arm out and hauled her inside.
Archer reached up to close the shuttlepod door. Taking a last look outside, he caught sight of several more bulky figures running toward them. He quickly slammed the hatch shut.
"Better take off quick, Malcolm," he said, but Malcolm was already in motion and the shuttle lifted off the ground before Archer could even sit down. He landed heavily on the floor next to Trip.
After a few hundred meters, the craft began to shake and rock with increasing intensity. Trip curled up on his side and made a noise of pain. Archer wrapped his arms around him to protect him from the worst bumps.
Suddenly there was a bright flash followed by a loud boom. The pod rocked heavily from side to side.
"More lightning?" Hoshi asked with a quaver in her voice.
"Not this time, Hoshi. We've got company."
"Can you outrun them?"
"Yes, I think so, Captain. In the meantime, hang on."
Archer peered out the window to see three small aircraft propelled through the air by a single propeller mounted on the tail of the vehicle. Each had two sets of wings on either side and what must have been a gun slung on the underside of craft. On the top, nestled between the sets of wings was a bubble, which he assumed to be the cockpit. Under the top wings on either side of the planes were two metal tubes. It was an ungainly machine, but the pilots seemed to be handling them with ease in the storm.
As he watched, one of the metal tubes lit off and came whirling toward the shuttle pod. Malcolm swerved hard to port sending the contents of the pod, including Trip, Hoshi, and Archer, careening about the cabin. . The craft rocked violently several more times as Malcolm banked and yawed to avoid the enemy fire. Archer pulled Trip closer and shielded his head. His breathing was rapid and irregular.
Finally the ride smoothed out. Archer looked up in time to see them break through the cloud cover, and then he felt that tiny jolt of weightlessness before the artificial gravity kicked in, that told him they had escaped the atmosphere. He looked out the cockpit to see the alien fighters as small, receding dots, unable to break free of the planet's gravity.
"We should be docking with Enterprise in five minutes, sir." Malcolm said triumphantly. Archer grinned.
"You hear that, Trip? We're going home, buddy."
Trip didn't answer. His eyelids fluttered open and closed again. The captain was shocked at the condition of his friend's face, deep dark circles under his eyes, lips cracked and tinged with blue. Archer touched his forehead and felt the heat rising off his skin. He had been aware that Trip was hurt, but hadn't had time until now to realize the extent of his injuries.
Carefully Archer laid his unmoving body down on the deck and opened the blanket that still surrounded him like a cocoon. Trip was shirtless and his ribs stood out starkly beneath the skin.
Archer leaned over and heard shallow, uneven gasping, Trip's chest moving up and down a barely perceptible amount with every labored breath. Archer laid his fingers on the side of Trip's neck and felt a weak, thready pulse.
He lifted Trip's right arm and discovered a phaser clutched tightly in his hand. Gently he opened the fingers and removed the weapon, catching sight of an open, bloody gash on his palm. When he moved the blanket, Trip's communicator fell out onto the deck. Archer absently picked it up and dropped it into his pocket.
Archer looked up at Hoshi and saw that she was staring in horror at the cuts and bruises surrounding Trip's wrists. She met the captain's eye.
"What did they do to him?" she asked softly, her pretty face twisted in sympathy.
Archer just shook his head. "Archer to Enterprise. Have the doctor meet us in the shuttlebay. We have a medical emergency."
qoRa~ stood with water dripping into her eyes and watched the alien ship lift off. She could hear the running footsteps behind her and the wail of the alarm coming from the building, so she knew her actions had been discovered.
Rough hands grabbed her by the arms and swung her around and she found herself looking into Xu'~'s face. The First Scientist's features were distorted with rage.
"What have you done!?" she screamed.
Before qoRa~ could answer, she heard RuX#'s voice and turned to see him standing beside her. "What we should have done at the beginning, Xu'~," he said calmly.
"How dare you defy my authority?!" Xu'~ spat furiously at them both.
A spark of anger appeared in RuX#'s eye. "How dare you hold a sentient creature against its will and torture it?"
"I'll have both of you arrested! You'll be stripped of your tenure, Second Scientist!!"
"I don't think so, Xu'~." RuX# was smiling now. "You see, I've got evidence of your actions. Video evidence. If you take any action against qoRa~, I'll be forced to share that evidence with the governors and media."
Xu'~ sputtered angrily for a moment, contorting her gesticulations into a series of cacophonic spasms.
RuX# continued in calm, even tones, making his gestures with smooth grace that irritated Xu~ all the more, "In fact, I suggest that you consider taking your retirement that you have been putting off for so long. Besides, if you do look for your evidence that there ever was an alien here, I'm afraid that no will believe you. Apparently those records have been irretrievably lost, except for the copies I have hidden away." RuX# looked at qoRa~ nonchalantly and then sternly at Xu'~. "Either way, I should think that a change in administration is in order here, First Scientist. Don't you agree?" The final part was said not as a suggestion but as an order. With a last, large swipe of RuX#'s furry hand, the indication was clear that that was all that needed to be stated.
Xu' stared at RuX~ for a moment blankly. Her head slowly moved to qoRa~ and then back to RuX~ and then at the sky in the direction of the rapidly disappearing alien ship. All the time, her gesticulations never seemed to be able to land on a specific word or phrase of any discernable meaning.
Finally Xu'~ screamed in exasperation, spun on her heel, and headed back toward the building, snapping orders at a guard who was just now picking himself up off the ground. She was so busy yelling at one guard she did not notice the other, still laying quite still on the ground. She caught her foot in his legs and landed with a splat in the cold, thick mud.
QoRa~ was unable to suppress the grin that sprang to her lips. She looked up at RuX# and discovered that he was smiling back at her conspiratorially
"Thank you," she said just loud enough for him to hear.
"No, thank you," he responded quietly. "You did what I didn't have the courage to do." RuX# jammed his hands into his pockets and shivered. "Now let's get in out of this rain before we freeze to death."
He turned and walked back toward the building. qoRa~ looked down to see the indentation created by the alien ship's landing gear filling with muddy water and finally collapsing in on itself, completely disappearing. She craned her neck upward, but could no longer see the tiny alien vessel; it was lost in the clouds.
She turned slowly and sauntered back toward the building. As she walked, she thrust her hand into her pocket and came upon a crumpled piece of paper. When she reached the shelter of the eaves, she pulled the paper from her pocket and smoothed it out. Her finger traced the outlines of the faraway sun and nine planets drawn by an alien hand.
qoRa~ folded the paper and put it back in her pocket. Casting a final glance at the sky, which was becoming lighter as the clouds dissipated, she hurried to the elevator where RuX# was waiting for her.
Day 5: 0630 hours
Captain Archer sat on an empty biobed turning Trip's communicator over in his hands. The casing was warped and there was a smudge of dried blood on the cover. Archer rubbed at it with his thumb. When he had first seen Trip on the planet, he was so happy to have him back that he hadn't even thought about his condition. But in the shuttle, after Trip collapsed, he had had plenty of opportunity to notice. He shuddered involuntarily when he thought about how pale his friend looked. He realized just how close Trip had come to death.
Archer looked up and discovered that Hoshi was watching him again, with a mixture of uncertainty and compassion on her face. He gave her a reassuring smile.
The sickbay doors opened and T'Pol entered in an apparent hurry. She slowed down when she saw Archer, Hoshi and Malcolm sitting on biobeds obviously waiting.
T'Pol crossed to Archer. "Captain," she said quietly. "We have left orbit."
He nodded. "Thank you, T'Pol."
The curtain surrounding Trip's bed opened and the doctor stuck his head out. "I've completed my examination. You can come in now." Phlox pulled back the curtain and gestured to them all to move in around the bed.
Archer hopped down from the biobed and crossed to Trip's side. Beside him he felt Hoshi tense, and then her hand clutched his sleeve.
"My God," Archer whispered. Trip was laid out on his stomach on the exam table covered to the waist with a sheet, which left his back bare. A grid pattern was drawn on his back in some sort of black ink, and in almost every square the skin was puckered, raw, burnt or blistered. There were black marks next to every wound. Trip's left arm was encased in a light cast, and his right wrist was deeply bruised. The skin around the bruising was slick and shiny from the dermaplast.
"How is he?" Archer asked without raising his eyes from Trip's ravaged back.
"Sleeping. He is severely dehydrated," the doctor said matter-of-factly, gesturing to the I.V. line snaking up from Trip's right arm to a pole beside the bed. "Left arm fractured in three places, deep laceration across the right palm with slivers of glass embedded in the cut." Phlox picked up Trip's right hand and turned it over to show the group. Archer winced in sympathy as he saw through the thin layer of dermaplast to the jagged red gouge beneath.
"His ankles are bruised as are his wrists. I also found traces of two chemical compounds in his system," the doctor continued. "One I was unable to identify. The other was lysergic acid diethylamide."
"What is that?" Malcolm asked from behind Archer.
"I believe you might know it as LSD. It is an hallucinogen."
"What's this on his back?"
"Ah, good question, Captain. I was hoping Ensign Sato might be able to help me with that."
Hoshi stepped in closer and examined the black marks. "It's definitely writing." She picked up a nearby PADD and entered some data, looking back and forth between the screen and the marks on Trip's skin. Finally she looked up at Archer with tears in her eyes.
"They're names of chemicals," she said in a soft voice. She pointed to the first box. "This one says 'liquid nitrogen', and this one is . . .potassium hydroxide." She looked up at the doctor for confirmation.
"They were experimenting on him?" Archer asked in horror.
"Hmm, apparently so. He also has torn ligaments in his right knee."
From the back of the group T'Pol spoke up. "That injury occurred prior to his capture." Archer turned to her in surprise.
"He fell, while we were attempting to reach shelter from the storm. He appeared to be having difficulty bearing weight on the right leg. However, when I asked if he were injured, he claimed to be fine."
Archer suppressed a grin. That sounded like something Trip would say. The captain looked down ruefully at his muddy clothes and hands.
"I think I'm going to go take a shower. You'll call me if he wakes up?"
"Of course," Phlox said with a smile. He turned away and began to rummage through the cupboards, humming to himself.
"Excellent idea, Captain," Malcolm said brightly. "I'm anxious to get the rest of this glue off me."
"T'Pol, will you stay here? I don't want him to wake up alone."
"Yes, Captain."
"I'll be back in an hour."
Archer and Reed filed out, followed by Hoshi who bit her lip and cast a lingering glance at the man on the table.
When they had left, T'Pol moved in closer to the bed. Staring down at the injuries on Commander Tucker's back, she struggled to suppress the unfamiliar emotions that bubbled up from inside her. She stretched out her hand and let her fingertips hover a centimeter above the damaged flesh.
The doctor's voice startled her. "He will recover, Sub-Commander."
"Yes."
Phlox stood beside her in silence for a moment, as if waiting for her to say more.
"I spoke sharply to him."
"Hmm?"
"On the planet, while we were trapped in the storm. I did not believe we should have gone there. I insulted him and called him a fool."
"Ah." Phlox went back to the salve he had been preparing.
"I . . . hurt him." She did not say what else she had done, that she had left Mr. Tucker alone, that she bore the responsibility for his capture.
"I see. It sounds like you are experiencing regret, Sub-Commander." The doctor began to spread the salve on Commander Tucker's back.
"It is . . . possible." T'Pol stepped back to watch the doctor work. He seemed completely unaffected by Commander Tucker's injuries. She found herself wishing that she could be so detached.
Day 5: 1900 hours
"Doctor, I think he's waking up." Archer laid down his winning gin hand and watched Trip's eyelids begin to flicker open. Trip muttered something under his breath.
"What's that, Trip?" the captain asked, squeezing the engineer's right shoulder. He leaned in closer to catch the words.
"Signal-signal booster relay," Trip mumbled. His eyes slid closed and then opened again halfway.
"Signal booster relay?" Archer asked in confusion. He glanced up at Malcolm, who shrugged.
"That's what was . . . missing. Signal booster . . . relay."
"I think he's talking about the communicator, sir," Malcolm said after a moment. Archer grinned.
"Well, it worked anyway. Thank God it did."
Phlox moved in to Trip's other side and helped him adjust his arm to a more comfortable position. "Good to have you back with us, Commander," he said as he fussed with the equipment. Trip began to fidget and tried to lift his head. "Please don't move just yet. We'll be able to take out this I.V. in a little while."
Trip laid his head back down and licked his lower lip. "Nice to be back, Doc." He coughed weakly.
"We're all glad to see you in one piece, Trip. Relatively speaking, that is," Archer said, taking Trip's right hand in both of his.
"Is T'Pol . . . all right?"
Archer's brow furrowed in concern. Trip didn't seem to be making a whole lot of sense. "Yes, she's fine."
"Good. How long have I . . . been here?"
"What is it, Malcolm, about twelve hours? You passed out in the shuttle and you've been asleep ever since."
"About that, Captain." Malcolm said. "We were quite relieved when you contacted us, Commander. You saved Hoshi and me from having to brave an alien city dressed as giant stuffed animals."
"Huh?"
Archer squeezed Trip's hand. "The only way we could think of to find you was to go undercover on the planet and ask around. Hoshi learned some of the language, and she and Malcolm were getting fixed up as natives when you called. I just narrowly missed having blue fur glued all over me."
"Hoshi said we looked like Wookies," Malcolm commented with a snicker.
Trip chuckled faintly. "Wish I coulda seen that," he rasped.
The captain leaned back in his chair and let out a relieved sigh. If Trip was able to joke about it, Archer was pretty sure he was going to be all right. His color was starting to look better too, and his eyes didn't look so sunken and hollow. Of course, it helped that the sickbay gown covered up the burned skin on his back.
The doctor buzzed back over and disconnected the I.V. line. He aimed a medical scanner at Trip and smiled at what he saw.
"Your electrolytes are returning to normal, Commander. I think if you felt like it you could try to sit up now.
Trip nodded. "I think I can do that."
With Archer on one side and Phlox on the other they slowly helped him to a sitting position. Trip swung his legs over off the side of the bed and leaned back on the captain just a little with his eyes closed. Archer saw him swallow hard several times before opening his eyes.
"You can let go now, I'm not gonna fall over," he said hoarsely.
Phlox nodded at Archer and they gradually eased off the support until Trip was sitting on his own, swaying slightly but apparently stable. "Excellent!" the doctor cried in satisfaction.
"How soon can I go?"
"Let's see how you do with changing your clothes first, and then we'll talk about dismissing you."
"Ok." Trip's voice was not quite as strong as Archer might have liked, but at least he was sitting up and asking when he could leave, which was a damn sight better than he had been a few hours ago.
The doctor fetched a clean coverall while Archer helped Trip peel off the sickbay gown. Archer got another good look at his back while his shirt was off. The wounds were starting to heal over, although the skin was still red and raw in places.
When he was finished getting dressed, Trip leaned gingerly against the edge of the biobed. "Did I pass?" he asked with a smirk.
"Hmm. I would consider releasing you now if you promise to rest for the next few days."
"I promise," Trip responded obediently.
"I'll expect to see you in the morning for a check-up. If all goes well you can probably get that cast off in a couple of days."
"How long until he gets his voice back?" Archer asked.
"That depends on the patient," Phlox replied with a smile. "If you drink plenty of water and avoid abusing your vocal cords, your voice should return to normal fairly soon."
"Cap'n, let's go. I'm hungry."
"Take it slowly, Commander. Try to eat some soup first, hmm?"
"Yeah, ok, soup. You got it." Trip started to scoot off the bed. Archer took his arm to help him stay upright.
"One more thing, Commander," Phlox called as Trip began to limp toward the door with the captain supporting him. They stopped.
"I have programmed the computer with a physical therapy routine for your knee. You should be able to access it from the exercise bay. Twice a day, don't forget."
"I won't."
"Very well. I'll see you tomorrow then."
They were in the turbolift before Archer thought to ask Trip where he wanted to go.
"How about the mess hall?" the captain suggested. "We can get something to eat, say hi to everyone at dinner? They all missed you, you know."
Trip leaned back against the wall of the turbolift and closed his eyes. "I don't think I'm up for that, Cap'n," he said quietly. "Can I just go to my quarters?"
"Sure." Archer pressed the correct button on the turbolift controls. As the lift started to move, he shot a concerned glance at his friend. Trip's eyes were still closed and his skin seemed paler. It's just too soon, Archer decided. Trip needed to rest, that was all.
When they reached Trip's quarters, Archer helped him sit down on the bed. "Do you want chicken noodle? I'll have chef send it up for you."
"That's fine." While Archer called for the soup, Trip carefully scooted back on the bed and leaned against the wall with his eyes closed. He supposed he ought to feel something: happy, relieved, even angry, anything. But at the moment, he felt completely detached, with no emotional reaction whatsoever. Even the hunger he had felt in sick bay was beginning to dissipate, leaving only that cold knot in his stomach.
Trip opened his eyes and saw that the captain was looking at him with a concerned expression on his face. He managed a small smile.
"I'm all right, really," he said hoarsely.
"Does your throat hurt?"
Trip shook his head slowly. "No, it feels fine. I just don't have any voice."
The doorchime interrupted them before Archer could say any more. Trip felt a trace of relief. He was fairly sure the next question out of the captain's mouth was going to be, "Why are you so hoarse?" and then what was he going to say? "It's from all the screaming"? He didn't think he was ready to field the questions that would follow that bit of information.
Trip heard Archer thanking the steward, and then the captain brought a tray over and set it down on the bed next to Trip. He sat up a little and tried to get excited about eating.
"Do you need some help?" the captain asked anxiously, hovering. Trip hated it when he hovered.
"I think I can do it." He leaned over the bowl and scooped up a spoonful of soup. The chicken noodle smell, which he normally loved, was almost nauseating. He blew on the spoonful to cool it and then popped it into his mouth and swallowed quickly.
He forced himself to take another bite before he set down the spoon. He was pretty sure that if he ate any more he was going to throw up, and then the captain would just haul him back to sick bay, which is exactly where he didn't want to be right now.
"Are you all right?"
Trip closed his eyes and nodded. "I'm just tired. I'll eat something later."
"That sounds like a good idea," Archer said. After moving the tray from the bed to the desk, he pulled back the covers and helped Trip crawl into bed.
"Do you want me to stay?"
"No, I'm ok. I just need to rest."
Archer pulled up the blanket around Trip's shoulders. "Sleep tight. Call me if you need anything."
"You got it."
"Even if it's the middle of the night, understood?"
"Yes, Captain."
Archer hit the control to turn off the lights on the way out the door. Trip almost called after him to leave them on, but thought better of it. It probably wasn't a good idea to tell your captain you were afraid of the dark.
Trip lay with his eyes wide open in the darkness. He couldn't convince his brain to shut off and let him sleep. So T'Pol really is alive, he told himself. He wondered briefly why she hadn't come to see him in sick bay. Almost immediately he answered his own question: Because she thinks I'm a fool, and she knows it's my own fault I ended up being an alien pincushion. Surprisingly, the realization evoked no emotional reaction beyond mild self-contempt.
Again he tried to conjure up some appropriate emotion, but all he felt was that crushing emptiness. Maybe sleep would help. Sleep knits up the raveled sleeve of care, right? he thought fuzzily.
He closed his eyes and immediately images began to flash in front of him: T'Pol dead on the gurney, monsters with shiny faceplates coming at him, the weight falling onto his arm. Trip's eyes flew open, but the darkness and the images remained.
In terror he fumbled for the control to turn on the lights. The images dissolved into the familiar contours of his quarters. He sat up on the bed, gasping for breath.
There's nothing to be afraid of, he told himself sternly. Suddenly sleep seemed very far away. He pulled back the covers and stumbled to his desk. Maybe he'd feel better if he checked on the status of the engines.
Trip sat down in his chair and touched the controls to activate the computer monitor. When the screen lit up, he raised his eyebrows in surprise at the date, February 5, 2153. That meant he had only been gone for about four days. Somehow he had thought it had been longer than that.
He entered his passcode and read through that day's status reports from engineering. He was slightly disappointed to discover that everything had been just fine without him. The report noted that a routine maintenance on the warp coils was scheduled for the next morning.
Trip called up the report from the previous day and started to read, but he couldn't stay focused. His attention kept wandering. Finally he yawned and leaned on his hand, elbow supported on the desk. His eyes drifted shut.
Instantly the nightmare images returned full force. Trip nearly fell out of his chair but caught himself with his right hand on his desk, causing a sharp pain in his palm that woke him up completely.
Trip decided he would be better off giving up on sleep for a while. Feeling restless, he pushed himself up from his chair and began to tidy up his quarters. If he couldn't pull his emotions together, at least he could have a clean room.
~*~*~*~*~
Don't worry, I'm not going to leave it there. The next chapter will be up soon