Author's Note: Once again I apologise for the long delay in updating. Blame real life and the uncooperative Muse.

Chapter 6

Shuttlepod One slowly maneuvered out from behind the last moon and started heading in the direction of the Vulcan vessel, the graceful curves of the ringed warp drive standing out against the mostly squat forms of the ships beside it. At the helm, Captain Archer squirmed a little in his EV suit. Even without the helmet the damn things were uncomfortable beyond belief, but there was no telling what they'd find on the T'Roth and he wasn't about to take those sort of chances. At the least, with the power down, it would be freezing and the air would be stale. At the worst, poison gases. He took a brief glance at the other occupants of the pod. Malcolm and Trip were both staring out the windows in amazement. Archer couldn't really blame them; he never expected to find a hidden cache of stolen ships. Who the hell could've done this? he wondered. T'Pol on the other hand was studying her console instead of looking out the window.

"Can you get anything from the sensors?" Archer asked her. He'd asked every time they'd left the safety of the moons, hoping against hope that somehow the shuttlepod's sensors would be able to penetrate the static as they got closer. He knew it was a fruitless question each time but it made him nervous that they couldn't see if anything had detected them.

"No," came her succinct reply.

"Guess we'll have to do this the old-fashioned way then," he pointed out at the ships, "keep your eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary."

After a few minutes of intensely studying the area in view, Malcolm called out, "Is that a cargo freighter?"

"Where?" Archer asked, turning his attention to the area Malcolm seemed to be looking at. The thought of a human vessel being caught up in whatever was going on here didn't sit to well with him.

"To the left there. Next to that pinkish coloured ship." Malcolm explained. Archer now saw the ship his armoury officer was referring too. He didn't have much experience with the cargo vessels himself. All he had to go on was what he remembered of the time Enterprise had rendezvoused with the Fortunate. It did seem to be a similar design shape at the front. However, the back end seemed more rounded and compact. There also seemed to be no connections for cargo containers. After having been set adrift from The Fortunate in one of those containers, Archer had a clear memory of them.

"You mean a human cargo freighter?" Trip asked, craning his neck to get a better look at the area Malcolm had indicated.

"No, I meant a bloody Andorian freighter," Malcolm answered back sarcastically. "Of course I meant a human freighter."

"All right. Calm down. No need to get your panties in a bunch," Trip replied. He stared intently out the window for a few seconds before asking, "Why would anyone paint a ship pink?"

Archer knew Trip well enough to know that that last question had been intended to rile up the other man and from the look on Malcolm's face it was working. And this hadn't been the first such incident on the trip over. Deciding to intervene before it went any further, Archer spoke.

"I don't think it is, Lieutenant." Archer hoped his usage of rank would remind both Trip and Malcolm that now wasn't the time to be starting an argument. "The back end looks different." Both Trip and Malcolm turned back at the sound of his voice.

"What made you even think that a human ship would be in this maze?" Archer couldn't help asking.

"Oh, just something Travis said." Malcolm returned to studying the ship in question intently. After a few moments turned back and shrugged, "I guess your right. It's not quite the same."

"Need I remind you that you are supposed to be looking for any signs we've been detected," T'Pol voiced reproachfully.

"We haven't forgotten," Archer assured her, giving a stern glance to the other two men to make sure they got the message to keep their minds on the job. Malcolm nodded his understanding, but Trip had already turned his attention back towards the window, so the younger man missed his look. The Captain internally sighed. He'd hoped to get in a quick visit to Sickbay before they left, just to make sure everything really was all right with his friend, but it hadn't been possible. He'd spent most of the time before the mission closeted in his ready room with Travis, not only recording the message that the helmsman was supposed to relay back to Starfleet but also coming up with a backup plan in case anything went wrong. He hoped they wouldn't need it; it was hard to come up with a decent plan when you had so little to go on.

"Five hundred meters to the docking hatch." T'Pol's words brought Archer out of his ruminations and he glanced up at the front window. The T'Roth was now dominating the view and the docking hatch stood out amidst the mostly flat surface.

"How much time?" He asked quickly.

"A little over a minute," came T'Pol's stoic reply.

Archer blew out a long breath. "We're going to be cutting it awfully fine." And that, he thought, was the understatement of the century. Still, he had a job to do. Archer had always been a natural pilot and today he couldn't have been happier about the fact since he'd need all of his skills. Clearing his mind of everything but the task at hand, not the easiest thing to do at the best of times, he turned his full attention to piloting the small pod to its destination. First step was to rotate the pitch of the shuttlepod so the hatches lined up. His fingers flew over the controls and ship slowly rotated, so it was parallel to the side of the T'Roth. Or as close to parallel as he could could get without the sensors to tell him. The second step was to control the speed of the shuttlepod so they didn't hit the docking port too fast. To cut down on time, he wanted to keep the speed up for as long as possible and then shunt the engines into reverse, the literal equivalent of 'slamming on the brakes', while not overshooting the mark. Now, his instincts cried out and he reacted immediately, at the same time barking out instructions to his team.

"Release the docking clamps."

Archer was so intent on his tasks, he honestly couldn't tell which of the three people behind him called out in acknowledgement of his order, he killed the power to the engines as the shuttlepod covered the last few meters.

"Five seconds," T'Pol called out.

"Brace yourselves," Archer warned. As the docking clamps latched on to their counterparts on the Vulcan ship, the shuttlepod lurched to a halt; a little different from the usual soft bump that came with docking. Archer immediately cut all nonessential power systems, plunging most of the Shuttlepod into darkness as the lights went out. Only T'Pol's console was still working, haloing the Vulcan in a soft glow as she studied the readout's intensely.

"Well?" Archer asked, not entirely sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

"Sensors are back online," she replied, never taking her eyes off the screen. After a few more moments, in which Archer began to wonder if anybody had ever really died of suspense, she lifted her gaze to look in his direction, "There's no indication of activity. It doesn't appear we've been detected."

Two large sighs of relief from the other side of the pod echoed Archer's own, but this was far from over.

"Get your helmets on. We've got a Vulcan ship to explore," he ordered, reaching down for his own helmet. Just as he was about to put it over his head, T'Pol called out.

"Captain. I've done a preliminary scan of the T'Roth. Power is down on all parts of the ship and there are no bio-signs."

Archer nodded in acknowledgement and finished attaching his helmet and hooking up his oxygen supply. It was pretty much what he expected to hear. The only question now is, are they dead? Or are they down on that planet? He hoped the T'Roth would provide the answers.

Archer looked at the rest of the away team, all ready to go. Trip and Malcolm fidgeting around in nervous anticipation, the armoury officer fingering his phase pistol, while T'Pol waited patiently in perfect contrast to the other two. If it had been under different circumstances, Archer might have been amused at the sight, but as it was, he was just as anxious about getting started.

"Let's go."

*******************

Malcolm was the first into the Vulcan ship, his phase pistol drawn and ready as he scanned the corridor. For what, Trip wasn't quite sure, after all T'Pol had said there were no bio-signs. Eventually the Armoury officer must have been satisfied because he gave the all clear signal and the others moved into the corridor. A few moments of silence followed as they all checked their scanner readings carefully. T'Pol finally broke the silence.

"There's nothing on the scanners." To Trip's ears, she sounded almost satisfied with that result, no doubt because it confirmed her earlier readings from the shuttlepod.

"Well then, let's get to work and find out everything we can," Archer ordered.

"We're gonna need some power. I'll head on down to Engineerin', see if I can get it working." It was a reasonable suggestion but Trip saw Archer hesitate briefly. The whole trip over in the shuttlepod Archer had been shooting him concerned glances whenever he thought he hadn't been looking. It was as if the Cap'n expected him to keel over at any second. The sad thing was, if Archer had really known what happened in Sickbay he'd most likely be laughing his head off right about now rather than preparing to catch him if he fainted.

"I don't think it's a good idea to be splitting up, sir," Malcolm opined from his position, still sweeping the corridor with his phase pistol at the ready. Trip bit back a sarcastic comment about sticking together to ward off ghosts. It wouldn't help matters. For if the captain had been annoying with his over-protectiveness, Malcolm was really starting to piss him off. A small part of him knew it was partly his own fault for not getting around to telling Malcolm that he hadn't really intended to ask T'Pol out, but the less rational part of his brain was feeling less inclined to accept responsibility. Besides, Malcolm as much as admitted he wasn't planning on doing anything about his own attraction to the Vulcan, so why was he getting so bent out of shape about someone else asking her out?

Still, some small amount of luck must have been with him because not everyone had decided to gang up on him. T'Pol spoke up.

"I'll accompany the commander to Engineering. It will be quicker to access the sensors from there."

Apparently after a few moments thought, the Cap'n must've come to the conclusion that T'Pol's superior Vulcan strength would be enough to catch him if he fell because he nodded his head in agreement.

"All right. You and Commander Tucker get to engineering and Malcolm and I will head for the Bridge. Keep in touch."

"Understood," T'Pol acknowledged the captain, before swivelling her gaze to Trip. "Follow me," she commanded, heading off down the corridor at a steady pace.

Careful to keep his back turned away from both T'Pol and the captain, Trip made sure he caught Malcolm's eyes, "I'm right behind you, Subcommander." He knew it was petty, but it felt so good to get in the last little dig at the armoury officer. Serves him right for the way he's been acting.

As he hurried his stride to catch up with the Vulcan, who was fast disappearing down the corridor, Trip for the first time since coming aboard, began to take in his surroundings. Or what little of his surroundings he could see from the light given off by his headlamps. The corridor's walls gleamed slightly in the lamplight, throwing off shadows. Doorways and access ladders were much more seamlessly integrated into the design than on Enterprise and did little to break the monotony. The worst thing though was the silence. T'Pol's and his own footsteps as they walked along the corridors were the only sounds to be heard. It was the type of silence that let imaginations go into overdrive and Trip's was complying. Ears straining to pick up the tiniest of sounds and eyes narrowing as if it would help him penetrate the darkness beyond what the lamps illuminated.

"Commander?" T'Pol's questioning voice brought him back to his full senses and he realised he'd stopped dead in the middle of the corridor. Trip's gaze followed T'Pol's to his own hand where he was surprised to see it gripping his phase pistol tightly. He hadn't even realised he'd pulled it out. Quickly holstering it again he gave T'Pol a sheepish grin. He hoped T'Pol couldn't see his face too well through the helmet, otherwise she was no doubt observing it going a bright shade of red right about now.

"No offense T'Pol, but your Vulcan ship's givin' me the creeps."

"I see." Trip didn't even need to look at T'Pol's face to know she had one of her eyebrows raised at him.

"Oh that's right," Trip couldn't help but reply sarcastically, "I forgot. Vulcans don't get scared."

"No, we don't," T'Pol answered, a bit more brusquely than usual. Was it his lot in life to piss off everybody lately? Trip was seriously starting to wonder.

"Well this human does. Can we just talk or something. Anything to keep my mind off" he gestured around to the empty corridors, "this."

"Very well." T'Pol once more took off down the corridor. She didn't say anything straight away, however, and Trip decided he'd have to be the one to start the conversation. Before he could come up with a topic though T'Pol asked a question which caught him totally by surprise, "Why were you in Sickbay earlier?"

"Oh that. Well it was...um...uh...I mean. It was nothing. You don't want to hear about that."

Trip stammered, his wish to talk suddenly squashed like a bug. Trip was glad that T'Pol was concentrating on where they were going and not on him, because if he thought his facing was flaming with embarrassment earlier it was nothing on how he felt now.

"You wished to talk," T'Pol noted.

"Well, yeah, but..." Trip was at a loss for words, "Did you have to pick that topic?"

"What topic did you have in mind?"

"None, I guess. Just..." He let out a sigh. "It's kinda embarrassing," he admitted lamely.

"Embarrassing?" T'Pol pressed.

Laughing stock of the whole ship embarrassing, if it got out, Trip was sure. T'Pol didn't look like she was about to give up with the questioning though.

"All right. I'll tell ya. But you gotta promise to keep it a secret."

"I promise."

"I was in Engineering and Dr Phlox called down that the imaging chamber was playin' up. I'd finished what I was doin', so I decided to go take a look myself. Anyway I was reaching around to get at the part I thought was causing all the trouble and..." Trip really didn't want to admit this part, but he had no choice, "my arm got stuck."

At least she isn't laughing at me, Trip thought. Do Vulcans laugh? Probably not, he decided. Still, T'Pol didn't seem to be paying attention at all anymore. She was studying her scanner intently.

"Somethin' wrong?" Trip asked.

"No." T'Pol answered. She gestured to their position right beside one of the access ladders, designed to help get around if power went down. They were set back in an alcove with hatches at either end of the ladder leading to the next deck. "We'll need to descend at least three decks here."

"Oh! Okay." Relief washed through Trip. Perhaps talking wasn't pushing his imagination down as much as he'd hoped. He reached down and yanked open the hatch, taking a quick look into open space, but it was just as dark on the next level as it was on this one. He looked to T'Pol.

"Ladies first."

T'Pol grabbed the handrails and began to climb down. "Go on," she instructed.

"What?" Trip asked, waiting until she was halfway down before climbing onto the ladder himself.

"With your story. Your arm was stuck," T'Pol reminded him.

"Right. Well, you shoulda seen me. Hanging half out of the chamber tryin' to pull my arm out. I must've looked like an idiot. Anyway, it was still stuck when your message came through calling everyone to the bridge. And when the Cap'n called. Phlox was just about to spill the beans in front of everyone, that's why I just cut you all off like that. He just didn't get why I wouldn't want anybody to know."

"I'm not sure I understand the reason myself. It sounds like an unfortunate accident."

"Yeah, well, we humans have a twisted sense of humour about these things. Trust me, if this gets out, I'd be the butt of jokes for days." T'Pol had now reached the deck and was opening the hatch for the next.

"And your torn uniform?" She asked as she continued climbing down.

"We had to disassemble half the mechanisms in that area before my arm would come out. It snagged on a piece of metal as I was pulling it out."

"I see."

They descended the rest of the way in silence. Trip wondered what she was thinking. He didn't have to wait long, once he reached the bottom of the ladder, he turned to find T'Pol pinning him with an intense stare.

"You were called to Sickbay from Engineering?"

"Yeah."

"When you left the Bridge your shift was over."

Trip suddenly didn't like where this conversation was going anymore. "So?" he asked warily.

"The Captain was very clear in his instructions. He wanted everyone to rest so we would be fully alert when we found this ship."

"I know what the Cap'n said."

"So you agree, you shouldn't have been in Engineering."

"Well I was. What are you gonna do about it? Dob me in? Again," Trip couldn't help but put a whole lot of anger and sarcasm into his words, "That's right. The Cap'n told me you tattled on me last time."

"I was merely concerned for your welfare."

"Well don't be," Trip snapped. "In the future you should just keep your nose out of my business."

"Very well."

"Good. Which way's Engineerin'?"

T'Pol pointed to her right, "It's at the end of this corridor."

"Great." Trip answered before storming off in the direction indicated, not giving the Vulcan a chance to say anything further.

*******************

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed paused at the junction between two corridors. He scanned the cross-corridor carefully before nodding his head in confirmation of what he'd read.

"The ladder at the end of this corridor should lead to the bridge."

Behind him, Archer gave a small exasperated sigh.

"That's what you said about the last ladder."

"I'm certain this time."

"You said that too."

Malcolm cleared his throat and stood to attention. "Yes, Sir."

Archer gestured for Malcolm to proceed. "Let's go." It's not like they had any better options. Calling T'Pol to ask directions would be extremely embarrassing and not something Archer would particularly relish doing. Still he felt the need to cheer the Armoury officer up.

"Don't worry Malcolm, I once spent a few weeks on a Vulcan ship. Even after three weeks I couldn't find my way around without a guide." He chuckled to himself at the memory. "They claim they based the layout on a purely logical design, but it's the damnedest bit of logic I've ever seen."

"I don't know, sir. An overly circuitous route to the bridge could have it's advantages. Especially in defending an attack on the ship."

Archer looked around at the empty corridors. He hoped it was just his imagination making them seem more gloomy and oppressing than they really were. "Doesn't seem to have worked out especially well for them in this case," Archer couldn't help but note.

Malcolm had nothing to say to that so both men lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. They reached the end of the corridor and began to ascend the ladder. As Malcolm reached out to push the hatch open Archer gazed up expectantly.

"Well?" he asked.

The smirk on the Lieutenants face was large enough to see through the faceplate as he looked down, so Archer knew the answer immediately, even before he spoke, "It's the bridge."

Archer suppressed the urge to say, Finally. It wasn't Malcolm's fault and he didn't want to give the impression he thought it was.

Archer climbed the rest of the way up the ladder, taking Malcolm's arm to pull himself out the rest of the way. Once on the deck, he surveyed the bridge. In the darkness, it didn't look so different from Enterprise's bridge, just larger. Archer gave a quick thought to his crew, hoping they'd managed to get the message back to Starfleet.

"Archer to Tucker."

"Tucker here. Go Ahead."

"We're on the bridge. How's that power coming?"

"I'm just lookin' over the power grid now. Doesn't look to be damaged. Give me a few minutes to power it up."

"Understood." Archer wasn't sure but he thought Trip sounded a little angry. Don't tell me he managed to pick a fight with T'Pol. "Everything all right down there?" he asked.

"Everythin's fine," came the succinct reply. "Anythin' else you wanna know? 'Cause the sooner I can get back to this, the sooner you'll have power." That was it, Archer decided. Something must've occurred to put his engineer in a bad mood. Still, now wasn't the time to be calling him out on it. Whatever it was would just have to wait.

"No. That'll be fine. Archer out." He closed off communication and looked across the room only to find Lieutenant Reed staring at him, "Something wrong Lieutenant?"

"No, sir," the Armoury officer replied, turning away to focus his attention elsewhere while mumbling something under his breath. Unfortunately for Malcolm, the comm. system in his helmet amplified the statement and sent it much clearer into Archer's ears. "I just hope he's concentrating on the job."

Did Malcolm know what was bothering Trip? Archer knew Malcolm and Trip had become close friends while on Enterprise, but Trip had said he wanted to wait to talk about whatever was bugging him. Besides, the way they'd been acting on the journey over didn't seem to indicate they had. But then what was Malcolm talking about? Archer was about to follow up on the lieutenant's statement when the bridge stations suddenly lit up. The return of power refocused Archer's attention on the mission. It'll have to wait, he reaffirmed to himself. With T'Pol studying the sensor data of the T'Roth, both past and present to see what she could learn of the events that brought the ship here, that left Archer free to check another source. Being a Captain, one of the most important assignments he had was to record the events occurring around him in his logs. Archer himself also used them to talk out any difficult decisions he had to make or discuss actions he was about to take. He could only hope the Captain of the T'Roth felt likewise.

"I'll be in the Captain's Ready Room," he informed Malcolm as he crossed the room and pressed the door release. The room itself was about the same size as his own on Enterprise although much more sparsely decorated. It seemed to consist of only a table, with a small computer screen and a chair. Taking a seat, he pulled out his scanner and a small connecting cable. Hooking the two up together would give him the ability to use the built-in Universal Translator in the scanner to translate the computer controls and enable him to listen to the logs in English.

Archer brought up the log list with relative ease. He'd been worried it may have been encrypted, but that wasn't the case. Now to figure out how far back to go. Unfortunately the Vulcans didn't use the Earth calendar but had developed a system of star dates to measure time. It wasn't a system Archer was familiar with, though from what he could tell the logs themselves seemed fairly widely spaced apart. Archer eventually decided on four logs back - there seemed to be an even wider gap than usual between that log and the log preceding it. Perhaps indicating a new set of circumstances had arisen. It was all he had to go on at this stage. Punching it up, he studied the Captain of the T'Roth for a few moments, a grey-haired man with deep lines around his eyes, though he was wearing the same non-expression that most Vulcans adopted, before hitting play,

Captain's Log - Stardate 27622.1

Our initial test was succesful. The results have been uploaded into the

main computer. Our next test is scheduled for 1300 hours tomorrow.

End Log.

Well that was illuminating, Archer thought. The Vulcan Captain clearly wasn't big on elaborating his points. Archer wondered for a moment what the other Captain would think of Archer's own logs, filled with his thoughts and feelings on whatever was transpiring, not just the simple facts. Archer moved onto the next log.

Captain's Log - Stardate 27624.5

Long range sensors have detected a ship of unknown configuration heading

in our direction. We are attempting to contact this ship and warn them to

change course to a safer trajectory. However, until they respond I have no

choice but to postpone the second test.

End Log.

Archer was pretty sure the ship the Vulcan Captain was referring to was the same one that seemed to be the cause of all their current problems. Finally, they were getting somewhere. He punched up the next log quickly.

Captain's Log - Stardate 27624.9

Our attempts to contact the unknown vessel have been unsuccessful to this date.

If they continue to ignore our warnings we will have no choice but to wait for

them leave the area before continuing our experiment.

End Log

Nothing in that log, Archer thought moving along to the next.

Captain's Log - Stardate 27625.2

Attempts to contact the unknown vessel are still unsuccessful. At their current

speed, they will reach us within 2 days. Given no further disruptions the vessel

should be out of range again within six days, leaving us 11 days to complete

our testing. I've asked Science Officer Sopak to devise a new schedule from

which to work within the new timeframe.

End Log

Archer drummed his fingers on the console. That was the last Log and it told him nothing. It was a complete dead end. Whatever happened must have happened quickly once the alien vessel was in close range. He hoped T'Pol was having better luck than he was. As if in direct response to his thoughts his communicator beeped.

"T'Pol to Archer."

Archer pulled it out and responded quickly. "Archer here. Go Ahead."

"I believe I've found some clues as to what happened to the crew."

Archer didn't even bother to wait for any more of T'Pol's statement. He immediately jumped up from his chair and headed for the door, gathering Malcolm in with a gaze as he crossed the bridge towards the exit hatch.

"We're on our way. Archer out."

*******************

Trip had found it surprisingly easy to turn the power on and get the environmental controls working. Ever since he'd been systematically going through all the other ship's systems checking for faults. So far their hadn't been any. It was as if the crew just disappeared from their stations. He glanced over in T'Pol's direction. Considering her discovery, that maybe wasn't so far from the truth. Now there wasn't much to do but wait for the Captain and Malcolm to come down from the bridge. A quick check on the environmental systems showed the atmosphere and temperature was back within acceptable range. Trip immediately reached up to take his helmet off, his breastplate and gloves soon following.

"That's better," he sighed in relief, tilting his head back and forth to stretch his neck muscles. The suits were heavy as well as uncomfortable. "T'Pol!" He called out to gain her attention. When she turned from her work to look at him, he gestured towards his now helmet free head, "Environmental controls are back online. You can get out of that suit."

"Thank you," T'Pol replied and turned back to her work, making no effort to remove her suit at all. Trip's earlier anger had dissipated fairly quickly once he'd had something else to focus on, but obviously his words had upset T'Pol. Time to make amends. He sauntered over to her workstation, standing on the opposite side so he wasn't encroaching her personal space.

"Is something wrong, Commander?"

"Nope, that's the problem." At T'Pol's raised eyebrow, he explained further, "I've looked over every system on this ship and I can't find a damn thing wrong. It's like they just flew the ship here willingly and turned the lights off before they left."

"Interesting," she replied. Trip could practically see her filing the information away for later use.

"It might be a sign that whoever did this isn't hostile. Maybe the Vulcan's just went down for coffee." He offered the suggestion hopefully, not believing it for a minute himself.

"That would seem unlikely."

"Yeah," he agreed. Time to get to the point Trip, he told himself. Taking a deep breath he plunged in, "Look, T'Pol, about earlier. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have got mad at ya."

"No apology is necessary, Commander. You were correct. I shouldn't have pried into your personal life."

"No, it was my fault. Y...You just hit a sore spot."

"I may not be your first choice, but if you wish to talk about it..."

"Thanks T'Pol, that's nice of ya, but I can't." Trip let out a big sigh of exsaperation. "You know, it's not even that big of a deal. Or it shouldn't be. But I just can't stop thinking about it. I mean it's not like...."

His sentence was interrupted by the arrival of Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed into Engineering. Archer made a beeline for their position.

"What have you found?" he asked, somewhat anxiously. Catching up more slowly, Malcolm was quickly divesting himself of his EV suit extras, after noticing Trip's undressed state.

T'Pol punched some buttons on the console bringing up an image that Trip couldn't quite make out from his angle opposite the console. She stepped aside so Archer could have a better look.

"The crew used the transporter on this ship to go down to the base on the planet."

"The transporter!" Archer repeated in disbelief. "Where on the base? I thought it was covered with an energy barrier."

T'Pol brought up another series of images,

"I've used the sensors of the T'Roth to study the co-ordinates of the last transport. It corresponds with a gap in the energy barrier."

"A hole?" Malcolm queried.

"More like a room specifically designed for transporting. It seems to have it's own control room off to the left hand side," T'Pol explained.

"They have a transporter, too?" Archer asked, his face creased into an expression Trip knew well. He was planning something.

"I believe so," T'Pol answered.

"Are there any bio-signs in this transporter room?"

"No. And because the barrier is absent in that spot the sensors can detail some of the surrounding area as well. It is also empty of bio-signs."

Archer looked briefly at each of them in turn, "Looks like we're transporting down to the planet."

"One of us will have to stay behind. To man the transporter," said Malcolm.

"Not necessarily," Archer replied, turning to face T'Pol. "T'Pol do you think you'd be able to decipher the controls of the aliens' transporter to transport down the remaining person."

"It should be possible," she acknowledged.

"So who's gonna be the guinea pig?" Trip asked, though he already had a good idea on who it would end up being.

"T'Pol will have to go down first to operate their transporter. Malcolm, I assume you'll want to go down too, to secure the area." Archer turned to Trip, "Guess that leaves you or me. Care to draw straws?"

"Captain, I must protest." Malcolm burst out. "You're the Captain. You have a responsibility to remain safe and risking your life by using alien technology is unacceptable."

"But risking the chief engineer's life is just fine," Trip couldn't help but mutter sarcastically under his breath. Luckily no-one was close enough to hear him. Or so he thought.

"All right. If that's how you feel Lieutenant," Archer agreed. "Trip?"

"Sure. Why the hell not?" Trip replied. Archer reached across to pat him on the arm in encouragement before taking off his own helmet and motioning T'Pol to do likewise.

"The transporter room is this way," T'Pol directed indicating a door to the right of engineering. She opened the door and then stepped aside letting the others enter first. As Trip came parallel to her, she spoke in a lowered tone that wouldn't carry further than the two of them.

"Risking your life is not acceptable to all of us." Then she moved through the door and onto the platform to stand beside the Captain and Lieutenant Reed. Trip walked slowly into the room, not really sure how to take T'Pol's words. Did she mean...

"We're ready when you are Trip." Archer's words broke into his thoughts. Right, he thought, refocusing his attention on the job at hand. Either Archer or Malcolm had already hooked up a UT into the control panel so it was merely a matter of pressing the right co-ordinates, transferred over from the console outside by T'Pol and pushing the lever up and then down again. He watched as Archer, T'Pol and Malcolm dematerialised in a swirl of colour.

"Archer to Trip." His communicator beeped.

"Trip here. You made it?"

"Safe and sound. T'Pol's figuring out the transporter system now. We'll let you know as soon as she's ready. Better stand on the transporter platform to be sure we get you."

"Understood. Trip out."

Trip hopped up on the platform and looked around nervously. Being up on the platform gave him a good view of the entire room. Unfortunately for him, the room was completely boring, containing just the platform and the controls. Thankfully he didn't have to wait too long before his communicator sounded again.

"Trip here," he answered immediately.

"We're ready to transport you now, Trip. Good Luck."

Trip gulped and unconsciously straightened his posture. Moments ticked by excrutiatingly slowly as he waited for something to happen. Then a slight tingling sensation began in his mid-section and rapidly expanding out. As it grew it also increased in intensity and began to ache. The room spun and his vision blurred until he was sure he was about to pass out. But he didn't and the whole time the pain kept getting worse until it felt like every molecule in his body was ripping itself apart from the others and trying to fly off on it's own.....