Usual disclaimers apply: I do not own the characters from the series
Enterprise and I have no right to use them. I've just borrowed them for a
non profit making foray into my imagination and I hope that no one minds.
This is just an idea that buzzed into my head whilst I was watching 'Acquisitions'
Summary: Archer is in trouble as the crews' latest attempt at first contact goes badly awry
Tell me why.
T'pol looked over to the doorway as she heard the sound of the bolt being pulled back. The door was yanked roughly open, she heard the grunt of the guards as they struggled against it when it jammed on the rough floor. Eventually it was fully open and she blinked at the bright light from outside as it contrasted with the dim interior of the room.
A disheveled form was pushed unceremoniously forward, for a moment he formed a dark silhouette against the bright light beyond. Then he was moving, taking a few staggering steps as he was pushed again, but he was badly off balance and fell heavily to the ground landing with a thud only feet from her. The door was slammed shut behind and the bolts thrust firmly back into place.
The figure on the floor rolled onto his back and groaned with the exertion. He lay there breathing heavily. "Why me?" he managed to gasp out between panted breaths.
"Captain?" T'pol asked clearly puzzled by the comment as she moved over to Captain Archer's side attempting to ascertain the seriousness of his injuries.
Despite the difficulty that it obviously entailed Captain Archer lifted his head to look her in the eye. "Have you noticed," he said still attempting to bring his breathing under control. "That every time we encounter an Alien Species they have a tendency to hit me?"
"Not 'every' alien species," T'pol corrected.
"All right a fair majority of them," he conceded
He reached out his hand and she took it, allowing him to use her, as he painfully pulled himself to a sitting position.
"Not all Alien species have mastered their violent tendencies as we have on Vulcan." She remarked as though that were enough to answer his question.
He turned to one side and spat some blood from his injured mouth onto the ground. "And they always hit me in the face at least once." He continued matching her matter of fact tone, not acknowledging her answer.
She regarded him. "Perhaps you are too.." she paused to consider the right word to use. "Antagonistic," she finally completed the sentence.
He stopped from wiping his mouth and looked at her. He thought about her comment. "Most of them hit me before I say anything to them." He finally concluded.
"Then maybe it is your appearance." T'pol answered logically
He let his hand drop back down. "Are you saying I have an antagonistic appearance?"
"It would explain why you seem to attract trouble."
Archer looked at her trying to decide if she were serious or not but then he remembered humour was an emotion that only 'inferior' humans had. "Well whatever the reason I'm getting pretty tired of it."
He had started to ease himself gingerly back towards the far wall of the room. T'pol could not help noticing that he only used one of his hands as he inched his way across the floor, finally coming to rest sitting leaning against the wall that contained the small circular opening, the only source of light and air. His other arm he held protectively across his chest.
As she followed him she spoke again. "It appears your injuries from your latest beating are more serious than usual."
He looked at her. "There," he said accusingly. "I don't like the use of that word 'usual.' Getting beaten up should not be a 'usual' thing." He paused. "Not for a starship Captain anyway," he added almost sulkily.
"Since you are the first human starship Captain then you define what is 'usual' for such a role." T'pol stated, moving closer to get a better look at his injuries.
"Well I'd like to start redefining it please. Next time we." Archer's comment was cut off by a cry of pain as T'pol moved his arm.
She acknowledged the cry by continuing her probing more gently but she did not stop her examination. Archer winced involuntarily a couple of times but made no further sound to indicate the pain he was clearly in. She needed to know the extent of the captain's injuries if she were going to help him.
When she had finished she let his arm rest back on his chest where he had been holding it. "What's the verdict?" Archer asked afraid that he already knew the answer. "Will I play the piano again?"
T'pol regarded him curiously the question was most illogical. "Do you play the piano?" She asked.
"No," Archer answered smiling
"Then I fail to understand.." She began.
"Forget it." Archer waived his uninjured hand dismissively. "It was just an attempt at humour and." He turned his hand round in a stop gesture. "I know it's wasted on you."
"It is curious the way humans attempt to find humour in even the most difficult of circumstances." T'pol remarked.
"So?" Archer asked attempting to change the subject back. He indicated his arm. "Is it broken?"
She looked him in the eye. "I believe so."
He held her gaze. "That's not good is it?"
She looked over his other injuries and then around the small room before making eye contact again. "Considering the break and the other bruising that you have sustained there is a strong possibility that your system will go into shock. From what I know of human physiology this will cause your blood pressure and temperature to drop." She maintained her clinical detachment as she continued with her prognosis. "Judging from the angle of the light and the changes since I was put into this room. I would say that this planet's sun is in the process of setting, that will lead to a further drop in the temperature of the room and since we have no blankets, ill effects from exposure are likely." She paused to take a breath and to judge whether to continue with her assessment or not.
"Go on," Archer prompted, he had decided that he might as well hear everything.
"The break does not appear to be clean and needs setting but there are no materials in the room to splint it with should we be successful." She paused looking down briefly before looking back into his eyes. "In short your injury needs to be treated and we have no way to treat it and I do not rate your chances of surviving through the night once the temperature falls."
Archer once again stared into her eyes. Why did Vulcans always have to be so damned honest. "Hey, don't sugar coat it will you?"
"You asked." She stated simply.
He leaned back thinking. "Yeah I did that."
He remained motionless his eyes closed and, for a moment, T'pol thought that he had passed out.
Abruptly he opened his eyes again and began to move. "Come on then," he said starting to get to his feet.
"I don't.." T'pol began. She never would understand humans perhaps that's why she stayed with them. They were always doing the unexpected. It was..... challenging!
Archer interrupted her. "Look if there is little chance of me surviving if I remain here. Then I for one vote that we try to find a way out of here. Agreed?"
She looked at him there was a certain logic to his reasoning. "Agreed." She said helping him to his feet.
This is just an idea that buzzed into my head whilst I was watching 'Acquisitions'
Summary: Archer is in trouble as the crews' latest attempt at first contact goes badly awry
Tell me why.
T'pol looked over to the doorway as she heard the sound of the bolt being pulled back. The door was yanked roughly open, she heard the grunt of the guards as they struggled against it when it jammed on the rough floor. Eventually it was fully open and she blinked at the bright light from outside as it contrasted with the dim interior of the room.
A disheveled form was pushed unceremoniously forward, for a moment he formed a dark silhouette against the bright light beyond. Then he was moving, taking a few staggering steps as he was pushed again, but he was badly off balance and fell heavily to the ground landing with a thud only feet from her. The door was slammed shut behind and the bolts thrust firmly back into place.
The figure on the floor rolled onto his back and groaned with the exertion. He lay there breathing heavily. "Why me?" he managed to gasp out between panted breaths.
"Captain?" T'pol asked clearly puzzled by the comment as she moved over to Captain Archer's side attempting to ascertain the seriousness of his injuries.
Despite the difficulty that it obviously entailed Captain Archer lifted his head to look her in the eye. "Have you noticed," he said still attempting to bring his breathing under control. "That every time we encounter an Alien Species they have a tendency to hit me?"
"Not 'every' alien species," T'pol corrected.
"All right a fair majority of them," he conceded
He reached out his hand and she took it, allowing him to use her, as he painfully pulled himself to a sitting position.
"Not all Alien species have mastered their violent tendencies as we have on Vulcan." She remarked as though that were enough to answer his question.
He turned to one side and spat some blood from his injured mouth onto the ground. "And they always hit me in the face at least once." He continued matching her matter of fact tone, not acknowledging her answer.
She regarded him. "Perhaps you are too.." she paused to consider the right word to use. "Antagonistic," she finally completed the sentence.
He stopped from wiping his mouth and looked at her. He thought about her comment. "Most of them hit me before I say anything to them." He finally concluded.
"Then maybe it is your appearance." T'pol answered logically
He let his hand drop back down. "Are you saying I have an antagonistic appearance?"
"It would explain why you seem to attract trouble."
Archer looked at her trying to decide if she were serious or not but then he remembered humour was an emotion that only 'inferior' humans had. "Well whatever the reason I'm getting pretty tired of it."
He had started to ease himself gingerly back towards the far wall of the room. T'pol could not help noticing that he only used one of his hands as he inched his way across the floor, finally coming to rest sitting leaning against the wall that contained the small circular opening, the only source of light and air. His other arm he held protectively across his chest.
As she followed him she spoke again. "It appears your injuries from your latest beating are more serious than usual."
He looked at her. "There," he said accusingly. "I don't like the use of that word 'usual.' Getting beaten up should not be a 'usual' thing." He paused. "Not for a starship Captain anyway," he added almost sulkily.
"Since you are the first human starship Captain then you define what is 'usual' for such a role." T'pol stated, moving closer to get a better look at his injuries.
"Well I'd like to start redefining it please. Next time we." Archer's comment was cut off by a cry of pain as T'pol moved his arm.
She acknowledged the cry by continuing her probing more gently but she did not stop her examination. Archer winced involuntarily a couple of times but made no further sound to indicate the pain he was clearly in. She needed to know the extent of the captain's injuries if she were going to help him.
When she had finished she let his arm rest back on his chest where he had been holding it. "What's the verdict?" Archer asked afraid that he already knew the answer. "Will I play the piano again?"
T'pol regarded him curiously the question was most illogical. "Do you play the piano?" She asked.
"No," Archer answered smiling
"Then I fail to understand.." She began.
"Forget it." Archer waived his uninjured hand dismissively. "It was just an attempt at humour and." He turned his hand round in a stop gesture. "I know it's wasted on you."
"It is curious the way humans attempt to find humour in even the most difficult of circumstances." T'pol remarked.
"So?" Archer asked attempting to change the subject back. He indicated his arm. "Is it broken?"
She looked him in the eye. "I believe so."
He held her gaze. "That's not good is it?"
She looked over his other injuries and then around the small room before making eye contact again. "Considering the break and the other bruising that you have sustained there is a strong possibility that your system will go into shock. From what I know of human physiology this will cause your blood pressure and temperature to drop." She maintained her clinical detachment as she continued with her prognosis. "Judging from the angle of the light and the changes since I was put into this room. I would say that this planet's sun is in the process of setting, that will lead to a further drop in the temperature of the room and since we have no blankets, ill effects from exposure are likely." She paused to take a breath and to judge whether to continue with her assessment or not.
"Go on," Archer prompted, he had decided that he might as well hear everything.
"The break does not appear to be clean and needs setting but there are no materials in the room to splint it with should we be successful." She paused looking down briefly before looking back into his eyes. "In short your injury needs to be treated and we have no way to treat it and I do not rate your chances of surviving through the night once the temperature falls."
Archer once again stared into her eyes. Why did Vulcans always have to be so damned honest. "Hey, don't sugar coat it will you?"
"You asked." She stated simply.
He leaned back thinking. "Yeah I did that."
He remained motionless his eyes closed and, for a moment, T'pol thought that he had passed out.
Abruptly he opened his eyes again and began to move. "Come on then," he said starting to get to his feet.
"I don't.." T'pol began. She never would understand humans perhaps that's why she stayed with them. They were always doing the unexpected. It was..... challenging!
Archer interrupted her. "Look if there is little chance of me surviving if I remain here. Then I for one vote that we try to find a way out of here. Agreed?"
She looked at him there was a certain logic to his reasoning. "Agreed." She said helping him to his feet.