Hi again. Just another little note to thank you for all of the positive
feedback. Here's the fifth part…I've been a little under the weather, so I
can only hope that this installment came out with some reasonable amount of
grammatical correctness.
Take it easy, all….
Emrys
Disclaimer: See Chapter I.
Following Orders Part V:
They had been walking for approximately two hours when Trip stumbled over an unseen root in his path. He caught himself before he fell, but the sound of his stagger did not go unnoticed by his crewmates. T'Pol and Archer stopped in their tracks and turned back to the weakened officer lagging behind them.
"Trip?" Archer asked. Worry insinuated itself into the question, and Trip found himself irritated by its implied doubt in and fear for his abilities.
"I'm fine, Cap'n," he answered harshly. Feeling a bit winded, yet hating the betrayal of his body, Trip allowed himself to lean against a bit of tree-like vegetation. "Just so many damn tree roots around here, it's a wonder any of us can stay upright."
T'Pol snuck out the medical monitoring device that the Ferengi had so generously given them and took some subtle readings of Trip's bio-signs. The device was primitive, but she was able to ascertain that his heart was racing to the point of intense stress and that his temperature was slowly reaching an upper limit.
"Will ya stop it with that damn thing! Stumbling over tree roots is aggravating enough without you pointing that inferior piece of technology in my direction every five minutes. I told you I'm fine, and I am! Leave me alone!" Trip yelled out to the Vulcan in a sudden fury.
T'Pol was unfazed by the Commander's outburst. Instead, she looked to the Captain and gave him her analysis of the situation.
"Captain, Commander Tucker is not, as he claims, fine. His heart rate is dangerously accelerated and his body temperature is approaching 39 degrees. I suggest that we stop and rest for a while."
"Are you going to believe that piece of machinery or me, Cap'n? I told you, I'm fine. I just tripped over a root. Yes, my head hurts. Yes, I feel like my heart is gonna leap out of my chest like an unbroken pony, but I can go on a little further," he said emphatically.
Archer silently took in Trip's outward condition, and he seriously doubted that his friend could walk much further.
"Trip…" he began.
"No, Cap'n. Listen. For whatever reason, those damn Ferengi put us so far outside this "Great City" or whatever you want to call it that we're probably going to be walking for a while. I've only got a week, and I don't want to stop now. There's no sense in letting me slow you down because it's not going to help the situation any."
"Trip…" Archer repeated achingly.
"I promise. I'll let you know if I can't keep up."
Archer looked towards T'Pol, and she returned his gaze noncommittally. The Captain sighed and then nodded his head.
"Alright, Trip. It's your call. But as soon as you need a rest, let me know and we'll stop, okay?"
Feeling as if he had just won back a small amount of control, Trip smiled briefly. "Aye, Cap'n."
***
Twenty minutes of arduous walking later, Trip felt his body list dangerously to his right. As he began to make his way gracelessly towards the ground, he absently speculated that balance was a thing of the past. With a whispered curse, he fell to the soft forest floor and was grateful when his head didn't hit a tree root. His vision blurred, then spun, and he closed his eyes as he fought down the nausea that suddenly assaulted him.
He opened his eyes briefly to see the wavering image of Jonathan and swallowed back the bile that had risen up his throat.
"Think I need…a rest now…Cap'n," he stammered out.
The last thing he knew before unconsciousness took him was the wordless sound Archer made to express his frustration and dismay.
***
When he next opened his eyes, the blurry image of flame surrounded by a close circle of darkness was the first thing he perceived. A hand placed itself close to his mouth, and he felt a trickle of water enter his slightly parted and cracked lips. He drank greedily and ignored the clenching of his stomach in favor of the relief he felt inside his parched mouth and throat.
"Not too much," a deep, yet feminine voice spoke out. "You will make yourself sick."
"T'Pol," Trip said thickly. "Where are we?"
"As requested, we're taking a rest," Archer's voice boomed from somewhere close by. Trip closed his eyes as the sound of it played havoc with his headache.
"It's dark," the sick man said stupidly.
Archer only nodded in response. "Are you hungry, Trip? There's food?" he then offered.
Trip wrinkled his nose as the scent of cooked flesh reached him.
"What is it?" he asked warily.
"Not sure actually. But, if you used your imagination a bit, it looked sort of like a rabbit. Anyway, it tastes like chicken. Have a try." Jonathan moved over to the fire to cut a piece of meat.
"Ahh, I think I'll pass on the alien bunny meat, Cap'n," Trip said and then struggled to sit up.
"Let me help you, Commander," T'Pol said brusquely, and with the surprising gentleness she had demonstrated previously, she supported Trip to a sitting position.
"Thanks," he mumbled gratefully, and then took a closer look around. "I take it we haven't found the city yet," he said bitterly.
"No, Trip. Afraid we haven't," Archer answered.
"Aha. Didn't think so. Damn Ferengi. Can't even transport us to decent coordinates. How hard is that to do, anyway," Trip breathed as his eyes began to cloud over again.
"Trip! Trip! Can you still hear me?" Jonathan asked desperately as T'Pol took out the medical monitor and took additional readings. Her clenched jaw did nothing to ease his worry.
"I'm dyin' ain't I, Jon?" Trip asked as his eyes began to droop closed. He leaned heavily against T'Pol's supporting arms, and she carefully settled him back down.
"No, Trip! Do you hear me? We're gonna get through this. Just rest for now, and things will be better in the morning," Jonathan said encouragingly.
The engineer just muttered something unintelligible before lapsing back into unconsciousness.
"How is he?" Archer anxiously asked his Science officer.
The tightness in the Vulcan's jaw only intensified as she gave her report of the engineer's condition.
"I believe the poison that the Ferengi gave him is accelerating in its effect," she stated flatly. "It seems that they overestimated the time it would take to kill him. The Commander will be unable to continue walking from this point on since any further exertion on his part will overtax his heart."
"You mean that he could have a heart attack?"
"Yes, Captain."
Archer rubbed his head as he considered the bleakness of their situation. Gently, he reached out to his friend, and took some small comfort from the steady yet rapid movement of Trip's chest as the man breathed heavily beneath his hand.
"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" T'Pol's voice broke the brief episode of quiet.
"Yes, Subcommander," Archer said as he looked to her hopefully.
"Allow me to go ahead on my own while you stay here and see to the Commander's needs. At the very least, I will be able to determine how far the city is from our current position. Perhaps I will even be able to do some reconnaissance to establish just how adversarial the Renkan's truly are."
Archer thought over T'Pol's words, but he found himself hesitating despite the soundness of her suggestion. One of his officers was already at risk, and he consequently balked at the thought of putting the other in a dangerous situation.
"It's a good idea," he conceded, "but I'll go ahead while you stay here with Trip."
T'Pol blinked coldly before replying.
"Your decision is illogical, Captain," she said bluntly. She quickly added to her assessment before Archer could make further protest. "You are a close friend of the Commander's, correct?"
Unsure of where she was taking the conversation, Archer nodded. "Yes, you know that T'Pol. It isn't news to anyone."
She ignored what she perceived was irritation in his tone.
"Then it is only logical that you should stay with Commander Tucker," she said evenly. "Your presence will bring him comfort that mine will be unable to give. He is ill, and will be better aided by your support than by mine."
Archer stared at her blankly while his mind scrambled to find some way around her logic; there was simply no way that he could feel comfortable with putting her at risk. But then he looked down at the pained face of his unconscious friend, and knew that she was right. He might not be happy with the idea of the Vulcan out alone on an alien planet, but there was no better alternative.
"Alright," he conceded, "but wait until morning. It will be safer traveling for you, and you'll be able to eat and rest."
She nodded to her superior and sat down next to the fire.
"Yes, Captain."
Take it easy, all….
Emrys
Disclaimer: See Chapter I.
Following Orders Part V:
They had been walking for approximately two hours when Trip stumbled over an unseen root in his path. He caught himself before he fell, but the sound of his stagger did not go unnoticed by his crewmates. T'Pol and Archer stopped in their tracks and turned back to the weakened officer lagging behind them.
"Trip?" Archer asked. Worry insinuated itself into the question, and Trip found himself irritated by its implied doubt in and fear for his abilities.
"I'm fine, Cap'n," he answered harshly. Feeling a bit winded, yet hating the betrayal of his body, Trip allowed himself to lean against a bit of tree-like vegetation. "Just so many damn tree roots around here, it's a wonder any of us can stay upright."
T'Pol snuck out the medical monitoring device that the Ferengi had so generously given them and took some subtle readings of Trip's bio-signs. The device was primitive, but she was able to ascertain that his heart was racing to the point of intense stress and that his temperature was slowly reaching an upper limit.
"Will ya stop it with that damn thing! Stumbling over tree roots is aggravating enough without you pointing that inferior piece of technology in my direction every five minutes. I told you I'm fine, and I am! Leave me alone!" Trip yelled out to the Vulcan in a sudden fury.
T'Pol was unfazed by the Commander's outburst. Instead, she looked to the Captain and gave him her analysis of the situation.
"Captain, Commander Tucker is not, as he claims, fine. His heart rate is dangerously accelerated and his body temperature is approaching 39 degrees. I suggest that we stop and rest for a while."
"Are you going to believe that piece of machinery or me, Cap'n? I told you, I'm fine. I just tripped over a root. Yes, my head hurts. Yes, I feel like my heart is gonna leap out of my chest like an unbroken pony, but I can go on a little further," he said emphatically.
Archer silently took in Trip's outward condition, and he seriously doubted that his friend could walk much further.
"Trip…" he began.
"No, Cap'n. Listen. For whatever reason, those damn Ferengi put us so far outside this "Great City" or whatever you want to call it that we're probably going to be walking for a while. I've only got a week, and I don't want to stop now. There's no sense in letting me slow you down because it's not going to help the situation any."
"Trip…" Archer repeated achingly.
"I promise. I'll let you know if I can't keep up."
Archer looked towards T'Pol, and she returned his gaze noncommittally. The Captain sighed and then nodded his head.
"Alright, Trip. It's your call. But as soon as you need a rest, let me know and we'll stop, okay?"
Feeling as if he had just won back a small amount of control, Trip smiled briefly. "Aye, Cap'n."
***
Twenty minutes of arduous walking later, Trip felt his body list dangerously to his right. As he began to make his way gracelessly towards the ground, he absently speculated that balance was a thing of the past. With a whispered curse, he fell to the soft forest floor and was grateful when his head didn't hit a tree root. His vision blurred, then spun, and he closed his eyes as he fought down the nausea that suddenly assaulted him.
He opened his eyes briefly to see the wavering image of Jonathan and swallowed back the bile that had risen up his throat.
"Think I need…a rest now…Cap'n," he stammered out.
The last thing he knew before unconsciousness took him was the wordless sound Archer made to express his frustration and dismay.
***
When he next opened his eyes, the blurry image of flame surrounded by a close circle of darkness was the first thing he perceived. A hand placed itself close to his mouth, and he felt a trickle of water enter his slightly parted and cracked lips. He drank greedily and ignored the clenching of his stomach in favor of the relief he felt inside his parched mouth and throat.
"Not too much," a deep, yet feminine voice spoke out. "You will make yourself sick."
"T'Pol," Trip said thickly. "Where are we?"
"As requested, we're taking a rest," Archer's voice boomed from somewhere close by. Trip closed his eyes as the sound of it played havoc with his headache.
"It's dark," the sick man said stupidly.
Archer only nodded in response. "Are you hungry, Trip? There's food?" he then offered.
Trip wrinkled his nose as the scent of cooked flesh reached him.
"What is it?" he asked warily.
"Not sure actually. But, if you used your imagination a bit, it looked sort of like a rabbit. Anyway, it tastes like chicken. Have a try." Jonathan moved over to the fire to cut a piece of meat.
"Ahh, I think I'll pass on the alien bunny meat, Cap'n," Trip said and then struggled to sit up.
"Let me help you, Commander," T'Pol said brusquely, and with the surprising gentleness she had demonstrated previously, she supported Trip to a sitting position.
"Thanks," he mumbled gratefully, and then took a closer look around. "I take it we haven't found the city yet," he said bitterly.
"No, Trip. Afraid we haven't," Archer answered.
"Aha. Didn't think so. Damn Ferengi. Can't even transport us to decent coordinates. How hard is that to do, anyway," Trip breathed as his eyes began to cloud over again.
"Trip! Trip! Can you still hear me?" Jonathan asked desperately as T'Pol took out the medical monitor and took additional readings. Her clenched jaw did nothing to ease his worry.
"I'm dyin' ain't I, Jon?" Trip asked as his eyes began to droop closed. He leaned heavily against T'Pol's supporting arms, and she carefully settled him back down.
"No, Trip! Do you hear me? We're gonna get through this. Just rest for now, and things will be better in the morning," Jonathan said encouragingly.
The engineer just muttered something unintelligible before lapsing back into unconsciousness.
"How is he?" Archer anxiously asked his Science officer.
The tightness in the Vulcan's jaw only intensified as she gave her report of the engineer's condition.
"I believe the poison that the Ferengi gave him is accelerating in its effect," she stated flatly. "It seems that they overestimated the time it would take to kill him. The Commander will be unable to continue walking from this point on since any further exertion on his part will overtax his heart."
"You mean that he could have a heart attack?"
"Yes, Captain."
Archer rubbed his head as he considered the bleakness of their situation. Gently, he reached out to his friend, and took some small comfort from the steady yet rapid movement of Trip's chest as the man breathed heavily beneath his hand.
"Captain, may I make a suggestion?" T'Pol's voice broke the brief episode of quiet.
"Yes, Subcommander," Archer said as he looked to her hopefully.
"Allow me to go ahead on my own while you stay here and see to the Commander's needs. At the very least, I will be able to determine how far the city is from our current position. Perhaps I will even be able to do some reconnaissance to establish just how adversarial the Renkan's truly are."
Archer thought over T'Pol's words, but he found himself hesitating despite the soundness of her suggestion. One of his officers was already at risk, and he consequently balked at the thought of putting the other in a dangerous situation.
"It's a good idea," he conceded, "but I'll go ahead while you stay here with Trip."
T'Pol blinked coldly before replying.
"Your decision is illogical, Captain," she said bluntly. She quickly added to her assessment before Archer could make further protest. "You are a close friend of the Commander's, correct?"
Unsure of where she was taking the conversation, Archer nodded. "Yes, you know that T'Pol. It isn't news to anyone."
She ignored what she perceived was irritation in his tone.
"Then it is only logical that you should stay with Commander Tucker," she said evenly. "Your presence will bring him comfort that mine will be unable to give. He is ill, and will be better aided by your support than by mine."
Archer stared at her blankly while his mind scrambled to find some way around her logic; there was simply no way that he could feel comfortable with putting her at risk. But then he looked down at the pained face of his unconscious friend, and knew that she was right. He might not be happy with the idea of the Vulcan out alone on an alien planet, but there was no better alternative.
"Alright," he conceded, "but wait until morning. It will be safer traveling for you, and you'll be able to eat and rest."
She nodded to her superior and sat down next to the fire.
"Yes, Captain."
