Author's Note: Hi, everyone. I'm sorry that this took so long, I've been very busy the last few weeks- tennis, re-enacting, being sick- so I've sort of forgotten. But, the important thing is that I've finally gotten around to doing so. So, read on, enjoy, and please R/R.
Summary: As Malcolm and Hayes try to find Selak and Trip, is their time running out? Will they be able to make it back to the ship before…?
Through Fire: For Strangers and Enemies
-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Lower Level-----
Malcolm took a deep breath, having to constantly remind himself to do so. Subconsciously he was quite aware of the toxin that was in the air. Just as he was aware that, with the mask on, it wouldn't harm him. But that didn't quiet his feel of paranoia, especially at the thought of just suddenly keeling over from it.
He looked to his right, seeing Hayes easily walking through the hall just a step or two ahead of him. The Major didn't seem to be having any trouble breathing, his mind to focused on the goal ahead of them. On the reason that they were there.
Malcolm wanted to sigh, but wasn't sure if his lungs would take it. Instead he just looked away, trying to do the same. He shifted his weapon, knowing that it was useless but holding it anyway. It made him feel better to think that he was armed, even if he may not be.
A small creak behind him caused Malcolm to whip around. The MACO behind him halted immediately, startled at suddenly having three weapons pointed at him. The team relaxed, realizing that it had been nothing more than the man stepping on a lose plate or something.
"Sorry," was his muffled response, the mask garbling his voice.
Malcolm turned back around, he felt better- less humiliated- to noticed that the noise had startled Hayes as well. Perhaps that was a childish thought- his constant competition with Hayes- but it just came to him, thoughts like that. And, no matter how much he tried not to be such a prick about the matter, Hayes always did something to start the cycle all over again.
Malcolm shook his head. No matter how much thoughts of Hayes kept him from thinking about the air, he needed to focus. Focus on Trip. On Selak. He needed to focus on the mission. To think about the two of them, to commit to memory where they were and where they were going. To mentally map the place out.
But, after a few minutes of that, his mind was once again bored, moving back to the thoughts of what he was breathing in. Of all the chemicals that had been released into the air. Of how he would be unconscious in a few minutes without the mask.
But then his thoughts traveled to Trip and Selak. They had been in their cell, or wherever, for nearly ten minutes with a constant stream of the chemicals in the air. They would be unconscious by now- that would mean carrying them back to the transport site. It would also mean they'd need Phlox there to help them, just incase something went wrong.
But, they'd need to get them first…
-----Enterprise, Transporter Room-----"What's wrong? Can you fix it?" Archer asked impatiently, wanting to know in that instant and to get his people out of there. This new situation wasn't a good thing, not by far. They needed the transporters for this to work.
"I don't know, sir. It's not the transporter. There's nothing for me to fix, sir. It's the force-shield."
Archer looked at the transporter chief- an Ensign, one of the newer arrivals before their mission to the Expanse. Looking at him now, Archer could see that he was only a boy, probably not that long out of the Academy. His curly blonde hair hung just above his fear-filled eyes. Archer's brow creased: was he afraid of him? Of Archer for his wrath, or that he couldn't return the rest of his crew?
Archer couldn't tell- or merely didn't want to know. He looked away, sighing. "Keep working on it."
"Yes, sir."
Archer nodded at the new tone in his voice, he seemed to realize that the Captain was only being snappy because of the stress he seemed to have been under. The young man looked away, absorbed by his work before the Captain even left.
-----Location: Unknown-----The buzz of activity around him caught his attention. Selak focused in on the voices, on the sounds. He could faintly make out a voice- a familiar voice- saying something about finding some… something.
Finding him?
Selak's mind didn't bother to dwell on the thought long at all, his mind preoccupied with opening his eyes. He wanted to see what was going on, to see what… who… was there.
But he found that he was too weak to open them. That his heart was near stopping, that much he could tell. He didn't have the energy to move; he was barely staying as conscious as it was.
His head was moved. Someone was touching him. Something was on his face. But, again, he couldn't open his eyes to look, to see what it was. To feel the object.
For a moment, he felt like he couldn't breathe, his diaphragm having to strain to force air through and into his lungs. But something was different… the taste- was there a taste to air?- was less sweet. Something was different about it.
Selak wanted to struggle to take it off, his mind fearing for a moment that whatever was on his face was starving him of oxygen or something. That it was filtering out air… or that it was feeding him something equally deadly.
But then he relaxed. It was then that he realized it was the sweeter thing in the air that had knocked him out, that had been the cause of his semi-consciousness. He focused again on his breathing, taking deeper and deeper breaths.
A new burning hit his lungs; perhaps purging them of the sweet air. Cleaning his systems.
Soon he found that he was able to open his eyes, having the strength to move limited muscles. He looked around, finding that his limp body was now being supported by two people- he had never even felt them lift him off the floor.
His ears could faintly hear the signs that someone was behind him. The Commander? He had been in the room with him. Had these people helped him as well? Where were they taking them…
He stopped, trying hard to remember where they were going. Who these people were. He couldn't remember. He knew they were familiar, and that they couldn't be the people who had put them in the room… but who were they?
His mind was too sluggish to remember, to think… to push back so far. It all seemed so long ago… everything was so long ago…
Malcolm walked awkwardly with the Commander's arm around his neck. His weight throwing him off balance, only the fact that Anthony was supporting him on the other side kept him from collapsing.
But, as they continued down the corridor, Malcolm found that he might well do that any way. Even though he knew it was because of the extra strain of the filter, he felt as if he were barely getting any air. As of a few minutes ago, he had begun to feel light headed, knowing that, most likely, it was all in his head. Just the hypochondriac in him.
He moaned under his breath, remembering just as they turned the last corner that they would have to pull the Commander up a flight of stairs, no turbolift leading to the lower level that they were currently on. Looking in disgust at the stairs, he tried hard not the snicker, remembering that it was the cost of his discomfort over two officers' deaths.
Slowly, taking one stair after another, Malcolm and Anthony managed to get the Commander up the stairs as they followed a few stairs behind Hayes and Eveleen.
Once they reached the top, Malcolm was starting to get the impression that it wasn't just his mind that was making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He was about to suggest a moment of rest, to set down the two and see how they were doing, but he never got the chance.
Reed looked up at Hayes, surprised by the chirping of his communicator. Carefully using his other hand- which was of course the wrong one to get into that pocket- he unzipped and pulled out his communicator. Malcolm flicked it opened, made difficult because of his clumsy left hand.
"Reed here."
"Lieutenant-"
"Who is this?"
"Ensign Valiente, sir."
"I thought you had already beamed aboard."
"No, sir. We lost contact with the Enterprise shortly after you beamed down."
"That was nearly thirty minutes ago."
"I know that, sir. But we couldn't contact you after you had entered the lower level."
Malcolm looked up at Hayes, not sure if he should sigh in frustration or worry. "Where are you now, Ensign?"
"The facility's shuttle bay, sir. We found Shuttle Pod One, sir."
Malcolm nodded, not sure why since he knew that the man couldn't see him. "Very well. Have it ready to leave the minute we get there."
"Yes, sir. Do you know how to get here, sir?"
"No." Hayes almost smirked at his tone, almost bashful- ashamed, perhaps- that he wasn't as omnipotent as tried to be.
"Go straight, then to your right when you can't go any further. Keep going straight until you come to your second left, turn there. You'll see where to go from there."
"We…" Reed paused, suddenly out of breath. Ignoring the look he got from the other three, he continued, "We'll be there in a few minutes. Reed out."
He flicked the object closed, struggling to get it into his pocket. "I do hope you were paying attention to the directions."
"I'm afraid I'm terrible with such things," Hayes joked.
"Better hope you're not."
-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility, Shuttle Bay-----Ensign Valiente hit the last sequence. The shuttle warmed up and ready to go, now all that they needed was the other six.
He turned, his eyes quickly looking over the pod. It was hardly built to comfortably hold nine people, but it had the ability to hold much more. At least the trip wouldn't be longer than a half an hour.
He sighed; the mission not going as planned. But, at least, this got him out of a second trip through the transporter. That was always a plus in his book… after that first time through, he still couldn't get over the feeling that something was wrong or that something hadn't been put back correctly.
He spun his chair back around, looking down at the controls. He may not have been a very experienced pilot, or very skilled one, but in addition to his engineering classes, he had learned to fly a shuttle from its landing pad to an orbiting ship. It really wasn't that difficult… of course that had been almost a year since his last time in the pilot's chair.
Skimming over all the controls, he familiarized himself with the basics, hoping that autopilot would do most of the work. He could get them out of there at least, what else was needed he feared that he didn't really remember.
With that thought, all he could thing about was, 'This could be one interesting trip…'
-----Enterprise, Bridge-----"Captain."
Archer looked over at T'Pol, the Vulcan perched comfortably in her chair as he walked in. He stepped closer to her station; after three years with her, he knew that look. She had something important to tell him, something he would want to hear.
"Yes, T'Pol?"
Her eyebrow arched at his curt tone, a tone she had learned meant he was either annoyed or tired- most likely both considering the circumstances. But she nodded anyway, knowing that he did not intentionally mean to be rude- another of the many annoying yet curious things about humans.
"It appears that, as soon as Ensign Valiente released the virus, a second forceshild was engaged. This one appears to cover the entire facility."
"Is it the same thing as the one covering the Lower Levels?"
"Yes, identical. It will allow for something- or someone- to pass through it either way, but it will prevent either our sensors or the gas through."
"Pretty nifty," Archer commented, looking out the view screen. "It's probably to contain leaks."
"Captain?" T'Pol's emotionless voice hit his ears.
"Nothing, T'Pol. I guess this means we just sit and wait, and hope that they find some way out." The Captain sighed, his eyes still on the viewscreen. The next half an hour or so would be a long wait… a very long wait.
-----Darius Prime, Dilithium Mining Facility-----Malcolm's breathing was steadily growing more strained as they went. He could feel his focus slipping away, his head hurting more and more as time went on. He couldn't help but feel like he was going to fall at anytime.
His lungs felt like they were on fire, his heart being wretched from his chest. It was an awfully painful feeling. His instincts kept telling him to stop, to drop to the ground. He even considered ripping off his mask, for some reason thinking that it would allow him to breathe easier.
He could hear Anthony's breathing get louder as they went, he could imagine that the MACO felt the same way. The burning lungs, the searing sensation… the pain in his chest… dizziness. He even felt him slip once or twice as they walked, almost succumbing to the feeling.
Malcolm looked to his left, counting the number of doors they past. He had just hit two- somehow that seemed wrong- when they saw a turn. The first turn. They would have to continue down the hall until the second turn.
Malcolm continued to look at the wall. A second door came and past, again the number seemed wrong. And then a third and a forth… a fifth… then a third. No, no there had been more. There had been…
Malcolm's thought trailed off, he couldn't remember how many there had been. All he could remember was that it hurt to breathe. That it hurt to move his legs, but he did any way. He stepped forward, forcing himself to keep going.
Just ahead, he saw a second turn- it was the second, right? His eyes set on the next door, the tenth. No, third. No…
He stopped trying to count. It wasn't worth the energy. Turning his head away, he focused on the opening, the turn- the last turn- that would take them to the shuttle bay. They were almost there, almost home… just a few more steps…
Malcolm suddenly felt the weight of Trip's body force him down, the event happening so fast he had no idea what happened. He landed flat on his face, not able to move quick enough to put his arm out to blunt the impact.
"Lieutenant? Anthony? You alright?"
Malcolm heard Hayes's voice, he too was having trouble breathing. "Fine," Malcolm grunted, struggling to push himself up. Anthony slowly got off the ground, a large red spot on his face indicated where he had hit when he feel. His eyes were only half opened, his movements sluggish. Malcolm could only guess that he had tripped and pulled the two down with him.
Carefully they picked Trip back up, again moving in synchrony to get them to the shuttle. Only a few more meters, they could make it.
Malcolm turned the corner, and immediately stopped, almost bringing the three down again. He had expected another corridor or something, not… this.
There in front of him was a huge shuttle bay, nearly two kilometers in width and three in length. And there, several meters away, was the shuttle.
Malcolm started walking again, grateful to see that the three on the other team were exiting the shuttle and running to met them. Malcolm allowed one of the MACOs to take his place, walking next to them to the shuttle.
He looked up at Selak, noticing absently that he was walking with the help of the second MACO. He hadn't really paid attention to the Vulcan, he never noticed that he had woken up. Apparently he had a better resistance to the gas than Commander Tucker had.
Malcolm pulled himself into the shuttle pod, plopping down in one of the chairs. He closed his eyes, too tired to think about anything else but sleep, though he didn't quiet let himself slip away just yet.
He felt the engines fire up, the shuttle lifting off the ground…
-----Enterprise, Bridge-----It had been close to an hour since they had been sent down. The effects would be starting to fade on the Xindi and Delert's people, but that also meant that his people would start to succumb to the gas, the left over particles would slip through their masks and start knocking them unconscious as well. If they couldn't find away to escape or hide, they would all become prisoners of the Xindi.
Archer looked up from his PADD- one he wasn't really reading- when he heard his Comm. Officer's "Captain!" His eyes first went to her, while annoyed at being interrupted in his musing he was curious enough to ask what it was.
But she wasn't looking in his direction. Instead, her eyes were focused on the view screen, starring excitedly, while suspiciously, at something there. Archer, too, looked, wanting to know what had grabbed his entire bridge's attention.
And there it was… Shuttle Pod One. Trip and Selak had used it to get down to the surface. Was that them returning safely to the ship? Did Malcolm remember they had never brought it on board and was using it when they found that they couldn't return by transporter? Had he found the other three members of the first away team? Were the away teams still down there, only Trip and Selak on the ship? Had they missed something? Had Delert really had nothing more to hide than Xindi soldiers?
Or was this whole image a ploy? Had the away team not succeeded in their mission? Had they all been captured because the transporter malfunctioned? Did-
Archer's silent fears and rambles were cut short when the comm. chirped; the shuttle pod was hailing them. Archer didn't need Hoshi to tell him, but she was just doing her job. He nodded to her as he stood, telling the Asian woman to open the frequency. Soon, he would find answers to his questions.
On the screen- thankfully- was Malcolm and Ensign Valiente, the Ensign flying the pod as he tried to ignore the tactical officer leaning over his shoulder.
"Malcolm?" Archer asked, his unspoken question not lost upon the British man.
"We got them, sir. But Trip's in pretty bad condition."
"Bring him to Sickbay as soon as you dock. Good job."
Malcolm's curt nod was the last Archer saw before the view screen went black, replaced by the image of the shuttle growing closer.
The Captain sighed, he had all his people back once again. At least they had managed to complete one of their missions, now came the harder one. Now they would continue their mission to save Earth… to save all of them.
-----Shuttle Pod-----Selak sat next to Malcolm on the bench. The British man looked about ready to pass out, as did Hayes and the two MACOs across from him. Selak, on the other hand, was slowly becoming less and less disoriented.
With the oxygen in the shuttle at one hundred percent, their lungs were quickly filling with the much needed supplement, their bodies able to expel the foreign agent. It seemed to help, at least some. But it was Trip that still worried the young officer…
He hadn't woken at all, not while being carried- like Selak had- and not since they entered the Shuttle. It seemed that only his fever had gone down some, though his trembling was getting worse.
Selak looked out the view port, having to turn awkwardly to see. They were closing in on Enterprise, in a moment they would be able to dock. After that, Trip would be brought to Sickbay, not unlike the rest of the away team, to be helped. Soon, they would get there and he would be helped.
But not Selak… he couldn't risk it. He could easily slip out… at least he hoped that he could. Claiming that he was fine and having the doctor believe him were two very different things, two things that had to happen. He just hoped the doctor was gullible enough when bombarded with all of these cases that he would let the Vulcan leave.
He hoped…
-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----"Get him on the bed!" Phlox ordered as soon as he saw his friend being carried into the room. Valiente and White didn't stop to answer as they helped Trip inside, one under each arm as support.
"What happened to him?" Phlox questioned as the two settled him on the bed, the rest of the away team shuffling into the room.
"He was like this when we got there."
Selak looked at Malcom, annoyed at his waste of time, before jumping in with, "He has been exhibiting withdraw symptoms for nearly twenty hours."
"Withdraw from what?" Phlox's question came out without so much as a glance in Selak's way, his focus completely on his patient.
"I do not know. He was taken away for… an hour at most. I do not know what they did to him."
"I'll have to try to detoxify his body quickly before anymore damage is done."
Selak stepped back, watching the scene play out in front of him. In his daze, he barely heard the murmur of the doctor advising himself. Detoxification…
Watching Phlox, the young Vulcan couldn't help but wonder what had gone on when he had been unconscious… when he had been in a similar situation as the Commander. The doctor rushing to heal his body, to help his battered body… to save his life.
"What happened?" Archer's voice boomed as he entered the chaos.
"The Xindi injected him with large doses of some kind of drug, perhaps hallucinogen. He's starting to withdraw from the substance," Phlox reported, holding down Trip as the Commander tried to move away.
"Lieutenant!" Phlox ordered, Trip's thrashing growing. Both Malcom and Selak moved to his side, each holding down the squirming Commander as Phlox went about his job.
"How long has he been like this?" Archer inquired, stepping farther into the room to better see the scene.
"Do you mean delusional?"
"Yes."
"They took him approximately twenty hours ago, ever since then he's been like this. Only conscious for short periods of time," Selak explained, finding no problem in speaking while he held down Trip.
But Phlox disregarded the conversation going on around him, quickly putting a cylinder into the hypospray. He never even flinched when the hissing on the hypo reached his ears. Almost immediately, the Commander slipped into unconsciousness, his body no longer resisting against his friends.
"Is going to be alright?"
The doctor looked up at Archer, not sure if his concern was any longer directed towards his long time friend or his need for a chief engineer. "He will survive but his withdraw will be extremely painful."
Archer nodded, ordering, "Tell me when he wakes up. And Selak, I want to know everything that happened in the morning."
"Aye, sir."
Without second glance, he walked away, most likely heading for the bridge.
"What about you? Are you hurt?" Malcom asked, the concern finally able to be relaxed off of Trip, his condition stable.
"I am uninjuried."
"Are you sure?" Phlox persisted.
"Yes. If I may, I wish to retire to my quarters."
Phlox nodded at the request. "Of course."
-----Enterprise, Selak's Quarters-----Selak opened the door to his quarters, his feet moving on autopilot as his mind wandered, too tired to be bothered with thinking. Walking past his meditation candles, he headed straight for his bed, not in the mood to try and tame his exhausted mind.
Selak's eyes closed, his head sinking very little on the firm pillow, his body finally relaxing. His mind calmed, his muscles loosened from their constantly ready positions. The adrenaline in his system was nearly drained, his heart finally slowing to normal.
But then he sighed, knowing that there was something he had to do first. With a grunt of effort, he put his feet back on the ground, forcing himself to sit up. He bent over, his left hand finding and pulling out a small case from under his bed. Setting it next to him, he opened it, pulling out a cylinder device. Pushing a button, he nodded in satisfaction at the red light on his palm.
Gingerly, he lifted his right hand and undid the straps on his jacket- two under his left arm and two on the left side of his chest. Carefully, as to not aggravate the pain in his shoulder, he shook out his left arm, pulling the jacket off the rest of the way. With his chest bare, Selak was easily able to see the dark green on his collar bone. Slowly running the device over the wound, the green disappeared, leaving nothing but healthy skin.
Selak's eyelids drooped, his movements sluggish as he went to put the device away. After that he removed a hypospray, his mind taking a moment to remember its use. After a few minutes, he opened a small compartment on the top, removing one of the cylinder vials. Mechanically, he put the vial into the cylinder, before injecting the blue liquid into the vein on his wrist, the slight sting never reaching his neurons- perhaps from exhaustion or merely from being accustom to the feeling, Selak didn't bother to try and figure it out.
After putting the instrument back, Selak groaned, putting the case back where it had been. Falling back onto his bed, his eyes slipped closed. He was able to relax more, the pain in his shoulder and head gone. At least he had that- that small bliss to comfort him.
Tomorrow, after some rest, he would check up on the Commander, that would give him an excuse to be there, to look around for what he needed. But that was tomorrow… he still had all night before he had to thinking about that.
-----Enterprise, Sickbay-----"Well, good morning, Lieutenant," Phlox said happily to Selak as he walked through the door. The Vulcan resisted the urge to respond with Human platitudes as he knew many of the crew might.
Instead, he walked farther into the starship's hospital, asking, "How is the Commander this morning?"
"He's doing much better," Phlox reported, looking over at the closed curtain, Selak assuming that was were he was.
"And… his withdraw?"
"Well, I was able to purge the substance from his body while he was sedated but… there is little I can do for the physiological part of the withdraw. Unfortunately it might be sometime before he'll be fully better."
"Do you know when he'll be able to return to duty?" Selak asked, in hopes that the doctor would assume he was trying to get a frame of reference of when he'd be better.
But, by the look on Phlox's face, he was torn between that thought and another. One would assume that he was thinking that, as a Vulcan, the man only wanted to know when he could work.
"Well," Phlox finally said, "A week at most. But, we'll just have to see how he responds."
Selak nodded as he followed the doctor's path as he fed his animals- if one could call half of them that. The Vulcan tried hard not to cringe at the sight of the food the Denobulan was giving to them… or the smell of it.
Selak stopped at the counter- Phlox's workspace- even as the doctor continued on. "Is this what you used to free us?" Selak inquired of the doctor as he picked up a cylindrical container and looked it over. His eyes caught the label and knew immediately that it was.
"Yes. Quite effective, huh?"
"It did appear to help in the rescue of both the Commander and I," he replied, looking over at the Commander's space, surrounded by medical devices to aid him in his recovery.
The Vulcan turned his head, looking at the slightly disgusted look on the doctor's face, just as he had heard, though subtly, in his voice. "You do not agree with the idea of it, do you? What, exactly, does it do? I… was unconscious through most of my experience."
"It… it slows the heart. Only enough to knock them unconscious with the amount we used but-"
"If used to a larger degree it could easily stop the heart completely," Selak determined. "How were you able to create it so quickly?"
"I did some preliminary research some time ago; it never went much further than that, but I had enough to synthesize this," Phlox explained, the words almost lost upon Selak as his mind went back to an old memory.
A pale, young girl of fifteen starred up at him from her place on the ground. Her gray eyes shouted with pain and grief; anger directed towards him. In her arms, she cradled a boy of barely four, no longer crying but gasping for breath.
He looked around, ignoring the horrid sound his feet made as they walked through the mud and water. People were everywhere- some dead, others dying. They lined the ground and walkways and streets.
Children's screams and pained moans rang in his ears.
Her gray eyes starred at him; tears in her pained eyes.
A young man starred up at him. His blue eyes blank, devoid of the life that used to shine in the twenty year old. Dry blood crept out of the corner of his mouth; his body and face rotting in the baking sun.
His parents sputtered; blood coming from their mouths. Next to them was the young girl; accusing him, starring at him, silently pleading with him to help.
"Why do you not destroy it?" Selak asked. Phlox looked back at him. He had thought, after the long stretch of silence, that the Vulcan had lost interest. Apparently not…
"I had asked the Captain about it but he seems to think that we might be able to use it against the Xindi."
Selak nodded, a long analyzed question resurfacing in his mind. "Why do Humans… any species… seek to harm or humiliate others that did something to them? Why seek revenge for anything?"
Phlox gazed at the Vulcan. By Human standards, he seemed almost twenty-four, twenty-five. At least double as a Vulcan. But… but in his eyes he seemed more like an innocent child, one with pain burning at his core. Yet, at the same time, an old man far beyond his time- a wise, old man who had seen much.
The doctor shook his head, sadly. "I don't know why, Selak. I just know that they do, for whatever reason they may have. For many, I would think, it makes them feel better if they had to suffer, so should the person who caused the pain. Or, at least someone should as well. Why do you ask?"
Selak looked back at the metallic cylinder, his eyes glazing over in memory. Remembering the heart wrenching moments of discovery… of the message he received in the middle of the night. Of the mental image of what it must have been like… of what all those people had gone through when many of them didn't deserve it.
Selak's mind jumped back to the present, just in time to force back his emotions bubbling extremely close to the surface. "No reason, doctor. None at all." /-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/
Well, there you have it, the end of this chapter. This time I promise you will have another chapter by next Wednesday. I swear!
Please R/R and I will get back to ya'll.