A/N - Please see Prologue for disclaimer. :o)

A/N 2 -- added 12/17/04 -- reposted chapter w/corrections!

The Price Of Fear

Chapter 1

I

All unessential personnel had evacuated the Engineering Department of the Earth Starship Enterprise. It wasn't a declared emergency at all or even a drill, simply an opportune retreat from a less then pleasant work environment. The remaining engineering crew cringed silently as the argument between their Chief Engineer, Commander "Trip" Tucker, and the ship's Armory Officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, reached toward an ever increasing crescendo.

"It's called warp plasma because it's fer the warp engines," Trip said loudly putting a strong emphasis on the word 'warp'. His southern drawl was more pronounced in his irritation.

Malcolm gritted his teeth. "Well I have uses for it in the Armory as well," he ground out, his own British accent was short and clipped. "Besides, it is warp plasma that I already requisitioned."

"The requisition was not approved."

"I only put it through an hour ago."

"Well, we already used it…on the warp engines."

"Just used it," Malcolm said hotly. "For non-essential maintenance. After I requisitioned it."

"All maintenance on the warp core is essential," Trip said with an affronted look.

"It's nice to know you find the protection of this ship so important," Malcolm said shortly.

"I think the protection of the ship is very important, Lieutenant," Trip said, then after a pause he added "Just not as important as keepin' it runnin'."

Malcolm opened his mouth to say something else but was interrupted by a woman's voice behind him, gratingly calm in the wake of their heated discussion.

"Is there a problem, Gentlemen?" Sub-Commander T'Pol asked.

"No, Sub-Commander," Trip responded slipping instantly into gentlemanly mode. "How may we help you?"

Malcolm turned his head to look at the Vulcan first officer as she approached with a data padd in her extended hand and gave it to Trip.

"I came to deliver a requisition approval for four units of warp plasma to the Armory." She said.

"I'm afraid we only have the four left that we keep for emergency stores," Trip responded.

"The manifest shows eight," T'Pol said, still in her unemotional Vulcan manner.

"We just used them," Trip explained. "The manifest'll be updated shortly."

T'Pol took the data Padd back from Trip. "Very well," she said almost curtly. "In the future, please make your updates more promptly."

Trip nodded slightly. Sub-Commander T'Pol returned the gesture and made her customarily graceful exit. Malcolm, his jaw clenched, turned sharply and followed behind her.

"We're only a couple days away from dry dock, Trip." Captain Jonathan Archer glanced at his friend as they sat eating dinner at the table in the Captain's cabin. "Couldn't it have waited until then?"

"It's a matter of pride, Jon," Trip said, waving his hands, utensils and all. "Can't have those Starbase engineers thinkin' we run a dirty ship now can we?"

"I understand that," Archer said, an amiable smile spreading on his face, "but there are other considerations."

Trip looked a little confused.

"It's been a stressful few months," Archer continued. Trip nodded, his mouth now full.

"I think we all need a break." The Captain paused and Trip nodded again chewing steadily.

"We're only a couple days from Earth." Trip kept nodding and Archer kept talking. "Just the thing for everybody."

Trip swallowed a bite, then his brow furrowed slightly. "So what's the problem then?"

"I've been getting reports of minor complaints from every department," Archer said not smiling anymore. He stood up and started to pace in the confined space next to his chair. "Some of them less minor. There was a fist-fight in the mess hall three days ago."

"I heard about that," Trip said shaking his head.

"The point is, people are on edge," Archer continued pacing, "and I need my senior officers to set an example for the rest of the crew."

Trip opened his mouth to protest, but Archer turned his head slightly and raised a hand.

"Half the engineering staff cleared out when you two started up," he said. "Hell, T'Pol even complained."

"I thought she looked a little upset about the manifest," Trip said with a thoughtful expression. "I was plannin' to apologize to her."

"I don't know what's going on with you and Lieutenant Reed, but I expect better when you're on duty," Archer said. "I will have this discussion with Malcolm as well."

Trip looked down at his food. "I guess it was a little overboard," he admitted. Then he looked up and shrugged his shoulders helplessly. "You know how difficult Malcolm can be to work with sometimes. I guess my patience might be wearin' a little thin."

"Like I said," Archer sat down again, the smile reappearing a little tentatively, "we're all a little on edge. Just try to…"

"T'Pol to Captain Archer," a voice on the intercom interrupted.

He stood again and tapped the comm on the wall. "Archer here."

"Captain," T'Pol's even tones filled the room, "we are receiving a distress signal originating approximately two point two four light years from our current position."

"Set a course," Archer said, "I'll be there shortly." Then he turned to Trip. "I guess it might be more than a couple days to dry dock after all."

Trip nodded, set his napkin down on the table and followed the Captain out the cabin door.

II

A man's pale green face loomed in the Enterprise view screen. Aside from this obvious difference, he would have passed for human. He waved his hands animatedly as he talked.

"I do not know how we can thank you, Captain," he said. "The loss of this station would have had widespread implications for the Tuin people. Not to mention the damage it might have caused on the surface. You have helped us tremendously."

Archer nodded wearily. "I appreciate your confidence, Consul MirAhn," he said. "Our Chief Engineer will join you on the station to bring the necessary parts and equipment and lend his expertise. We'll send a shuttlepod over shortly."

"We will await his arrival." The man's skin seemed to almost split with the pressure of his too-large smile.

Archer returned the smile with a more conservative one of his own. When the screen went black he turned to face Trip.

"Commander," he said, "it sounds like the repairs should be pretty straightforward." He paused then said, "I'd like someone to accompany you in case it turns out to be a little more complicated."

"I'll inform Lieutenant Hess," Trip said and moved to leave.

"Actually, Lieutenant Reed will be joining you," the Captain said. Malcolm Reed glanced up sharply from the tactical station. "I would feel better having security in on this," he continued. "And, besides, Malcolm knows his way around an engine room. If you need any help I'm sure he will be more than qualified to assist you."

"But these people…." Trip started, but Archer silenced him with a look. He looked at Malcolm. They had both received an unofficial reprimand from the Captain regarding their recent behavior. If this wasn't a test to prove he and the Lieutenant could conduct themselves on a professional level after the previous incident, he didn't know what it was. He bit his tongue.

"Yes, sir." Trip nodded at Malcolm and walked to the lift doors. Malcolm followed in silence, his hands clasped behind his back.

III

The small ship hovered, just barely, behind one of the smaller Tuin moons. It was strategically positioned beyond the fringes of any nearby vessel's scanning range, including Enterprise. The only thing within its active scanners was the station, but the scanners there were not functional so no scans would be detected.

If they had been detected any scan would have probably not just shown the vessel and crew, but the emotion swirling around its small interior. It was so strong, it had a presence in itself. It was a righteousness that, unashamed, excluded all else.

The Captain of the vessel looked at his readouts with such an intensity that it seemed he might bore a hole through the screen. His dark green eyes scanned relentlessly. He didn't seem to notice anything around him other than the screen.

"Good," he muttered to himself, "the station's orbit is still decaying."

A woman approached and looked over his shoulder at the readings. "They are attempting repairs, are they not?" she asked. When she spoke again, her voice was so soft he almost didn't hear her. "What if they succeed?"

"There is not sufficient time to complete the necessary repairs," he said. The Captain did not look as convinced as he sounded. His eyes continued to burn into the screen as the readings refreshed themselves.

"For us, maybe," she continued, more boldly, "but the Earth vessel's technology appears to be more advanced. The mission is in jeopardy."

The Captain's eyes flashed up to bore into her. She shifted uncomfortably.

"This mission will not fail, Leta," he said decisively. There was no room for argument. He turned his eyes back to the screen. "One way or another," he muttered, "this mission will not fail. Like it or not, that is why we are here."

IV

The two Enterprise officers found themselves in the small, sparse engine room of the Tuin station. Malcolm stood with his arms folded, quietly observing Trip as he worked under the center console. Only the Commander's legs stuck out from the small space beneath. They moved as he squirmed underneath the console and several muffled, unintelligible words wafted up. Apparently things were not going well. After a few minutes, Trip's hand slipped out palm up and he wiggled his fingers impatiently.

"Hey, Malcolm," he shouted, "Could ya hand me the micro caliper?"

Malcolm didn't move, just stood there with his arms crossed. "It's about two inches away from your hand," Malcolm said. Then after a pause, "To the right."

Trip twisted just enough to see Malcolm from under the console. He knit his brow and frowned. "Would it kill ya to help a little here?"

"It would seem I'm here for security reasons," Malcolm said, a note of irritation in his voice.

Trip looked at him for a moment. "I Know MerAhn doesn't look like much, but…"

"Not much indeed," Malcolm snorted. "My sister's parakeet could beat him in a wrestling match," he paused briefly and shook his head, "and it died twenty years ago."

"Now ya know it's not courteous to talk about our host that way," Trip said. He scooted back under the console with a smile at the corner of his lips. He had to admit the Tuin were a little skinny looking.

Malcolm ignored him and knelt down so he was in Trip's view again. "The only reason we're here," he waved his arms expansively, "together, is that the Captain wants to teach us a lesson."

"Okay, lesson learned then I say." Trip said fumbled with the relays, muttered another curse then said, "Besides, ya woulda assigned a security detail anyway, so why're ya complainin'"

"I would have assigned someone else," Malcolm continued fuming. "I have duties on the ship. I'm not getting anything done here."

Trip twisted out from under the console and sat up. "Then why don't ya help me out a little here an' quit complainin'? I could use a hand."

Malcolm approached and knelt down near the console. "Can I hand you a laser probe? Or maybe a relay or two?"

"Every little bit helps," Trip said then paused and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Look Malcolm, Cap'n's right, we've all been on edge lately. Sorry 'bout yesterday." He paused and smiled broadly. "How's this, from now on my warp plasma is your warp plasma."

Malcolm rolled his eyes and grunted in response. "What a magnanimous gesture."

Trip kept looking at him, smile never wavering. "Ya know, you've been an awful crabass lately."

"I know," Malcolm said. A smirk crept onto his face. "I've been working on it."

He reached for the micro caliper and placed it in Trip's hand. Trip took the tool, smiled a little wider and crawled back under the metal canopy. It was quiet for a moment, then Trip spoke up again.

"For someone who's always so concerned with doin' things by the book," his voice was a little muffled under the console, " ya certainly have enough to say about the cap'n's orders."

He said it casually without thinking and instantly regretted the statement. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees. Malcolm stiffened, but didn't say a word. Trip sighed and decided to let it go. There was too much to do, and it wasn't going as well as expected. He focused on his repairs for several minutes before coming to a startling realization.

"Hey, Malcolm," he said.

"Sir?" Malcolm stooped again to look under the console.

"Looks like a little case of sabotage here," Trip said. A bright spark flashed and he swore under his breath.

"Commander?" Malcolm asked urgently. He got down on his hands and knees for a better look.

"I'm okay," Trip replied. "Gotta hand it to 'em, it was pretty well hidden, but I got it." He rubbed his hands together gingerly then slid out from under the console.

V

Leta's dark hair obscured her face as she bent over her console. The room was dim and lights flashed across her in lines. She had convinced her captain to tear himself away from the readings on the understanding that she would monitor them personally. She pored over the data with extreme care, if not with the same fervor he had.

Then her heart sank in despair as a wholly unexpected set of telemetry moved across the screen. She knew that it meant the world as she knew it was over. Their world. Their future. Their lives.

"The Station's orbit has stabilized," she said quietly.

She was heard. The barest whisper would have reverberated through the silent room like a gong. The Captain approached in slow motion from behind her, or at least it seemed as if he did. In reality, Leta knew everything was moving very quickly. A single tear slid involuntarily from her eye.

"Take us in." The Captain's voice was filled with purpose and finality as he spoke for the last time.

VI

"Tucker to Cap'n Archer." Trip's voice echoed through the comm link on the bridge of Enterprise.

"Archer here." The Captain sat straight in the command chair in the center of the bridge. "How're the repairs coming?"

"Everythin's comin' along just fine, Cap'n," he said. "In fact, it's all done."

"Good." Archer smiled to himself. "As soon as you and Malcolm are back, we'll be underway."

"There was just one little thing that MerAhn neglected to mention," Trip added.

Archer frowned a little. "And what was that?"

"Well," Trip paused then went on, "the station was sabotaged."

"Who's responsible?" Archer asked. "Is MerAhn aware?"

"Oh, he was aware all right," Trip said. "Apparently there's a war goin' on here."

Archer's frown deepened. "Is that so?"

"Yeah," Trip said. "After I informed MerAhn of the problem, a technician came in to help complete the repairs. He admitted it readily enough."

Archer face hardened. "I want you and Malcolm out of there now. Get the shuttlepod back here right away."

"Aye, Cap'n." Trip closed the comm link.

"Hoshi," Archer snapped turning to the communication's officer, "hail the Consul please."

"Yes sir," she responded working on the board in front of her.

"Captain," T'Pol said from the science station. "There is a ship on course for the station."

The screen came to life with the face of Consul MerAhn. He didn't wear the same smile as before. He was jittery, his eyes darting from place to place at the slightest noise.

"Captain," he said. "The approaching ship on your sensors," he did not wait for a response, "you must destroy it."

"Captain," T'Pol said, "the station is locking weapons on the approaching vessel."

"We will do no such thing, Consul," Archer said firmly. "Are they part of this war I've recently been informed of?" He began speaking slowly and deliberately. "My people will be returning to Enterprise and we will be leaving. We do not involve ourselves in conflicts we know nothing about."

"Make no mistake, Captain," MerAhn spat in a surprising turn of character, "you are already involved. The renegades perceive you as their enemy." He paused briefly and shook his head. " These people are savages. If you value the lives of your people, you will help us defend this station."

The view screen switched from the seething green face to an image of the approaching ship.

Archer tapped the comm link on his chair. "Lieutenant Hess," he said.

"Aye, sir."

"Get down to the transporter room and get ready to transport Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed off the station."

"Yes sir," Hess responded.

Archer turned to Hoshi. "Hail them, Ensign." She nodded.

"Nothing, Sir." She looked at him with her finger on her earpiece. After a moment, "Still no response."

"Captain," It was T'Pol again, "they are increasing speed and locking weapons on us."

"Polarize the hull plating."

It was just in time. The bridge rocked from the first volley.

Archer turned to face the communications station. "Hoshi, hail them."

The bridge shook again.

"No response, sir." There was a pause as Hoshi listened. She glanced up. "Still nothing."

Archer stabbed at the comm link again as another jolt struck the bridge. "Lieutenant Hess, can you get a lock on the Commander and Malcolm?"

"Trying, sir," she responded, voice tight.

Anticipating the Captain's next question, T'Pol spoke up. "Their weapons are powerful. It could be fatal to remain at this distance." Then she added, "If we fire on them, we will put Starfleet in the middle of this war."

As if to emphasize her words, they were knocked off balance again by another powerful jolt. Sparks flew from several wall consoles and the lights began to flicker giving the bridge the hazy look of a nightclub.

Archer left the comm on. "Travis, back us out, full impulse."

Travis' fingers flew to obey orders, but his quiet "Sir" was hesitant.

"T'Pol, notify me before we leave transporter range." Archer turned his attention back the comm. "Hess, get them out of there the instant you have a lock."

"Yes, sir."

T'Pol looked up quickly, urgently. Shadows shrouded her face. "Captain, their trajectory is inconsistent with an attack on Enterprise. They are approaching the station. It appears that they may attempt to board it." She glanced back at her screen. "We are nearing the limit of transporter range."

"All stop." Archer stood like a charioteer in the midst of battle, only the reins were of a mighty starship. At this moment it was increasingly difficult to restrain it. He knew his duty though. "Hess, do you have a lock?"

Although it was no more than a second, the pause seemed interminable, then, "Sir, I can't get a lock. Most of their shielding is penetrable by our transporter, but they must be in a more densely shielded part of the station."

"MirAhn," Archer spat the name.

"He is attempting to force our involvement," T'Pol said. Her eyes flew over her readings again and she looked up urgently. " Captain, I believe the ship is planning to ram the station."

"Target their engines." At that moment his face was as emotionless as T'Pol's.

"It is too late Captain," T'Pol said, "they will still impact in approximately thirty seconds."

"Then target their reactor," Archer said with finality. "They're dead anyway."

T'Pol glanced up sharply. "Targeted."

"Fire!" The phase cannons lanced out. "Travis, get us away as quickly as possible."

The helmsman executed the command with startling efficiency, but it could not have been fast enough. The renegade ship seemed to quiver in place for an instant, then a fire burst outward sending Enterprise reeling with the force of the blast. The station was closer however, and the lifeless ship seemed to have a will of its own. They watched helplessly as a hulking slab of wreckage launched itself toward the station, splitting it asunder. A plume of fire burst out from the hull.

VII

Trip stood against the wall in the bare cargo hold he and Malcolm had been tossed into moments earlier and watched as the armory officer paced the floor like a caged animal. They had barely started to return to the shuttlepod when they were intercepted by MerAhn's engineers. He and Malcolm hadn't gone without a fight, but their opponents were well trained, if a little spindly looking. More like security than engineers. Or like soldiers, he realized. To be fair, they were a lot stronger than they looked. Trip was pretty sure Madeline's parakeet would have lost after all.

"We have to get out of here," Malcolm said, eyes scanning the walls and finally falling onto the small door at the far end of the room.

"I'm all for that," Trip responded, "but I don't think it's gonna be all that easy."

Malcolm sighed in frustration. He knew where they were. A well guarded, empty, locked room didn't give them much to work with. He watched for a moment as Trip made himself comfortable on the floor and finally decided to join him.

They hadn't waited in silence for a long before they heard it. A low thundering that sounded like it would run into them. Then it did.

They heard a giant crash, the sound of explosions, of metal twisting. The room shifted violently. They watched as the walls deformed and the door Malcolm had been glaring at creaked open slightly, broken and hanging. Smoke curled through the opening and a klaxon could be heard among the other noises of destruction.

When the floor stopped moving, Trip picked himself up and reached down to lend a hand to his friend. They moved cautiously toward the door.

"What just happened?" Malcolm asked, shaking his head slightly as if to clear it.

"I think we've just moved to the front line," Trip said.

They were by the entrance now. Malcolm moved ahead to check the door. An experimental tug and it creaked open. More smoke swirled into the room and they both choked back coughs. It wasn't as thick as they thought, however, and still barely breathable. They proceeded cautiously through the opening.

"There's nobody here," Malcolm said peering through the haze, his guarded stance relaxing slightly.

"Doesn't look like the most desirable place to be at the moment." Trip turned around to survey the damage. The hallway was warped in a manner that disturbed him greatly. "I think we'd better get outta here too. Structural integrity doesn't look good."

Malcolm turned and led the way toward the shuttlepod. They moved as quickly as possible over fallen debris obscured by smoke and the prevailing dimness of the crumbling station. Then their hurried exit was blocked abruptly by a wall of rubble. Malcolm stood facing the blocked passage while Trip spun around. For an instant there was relative silence except for the sound of air hissing through tiny fractures in the walls.

"Looks like we're not getting back this way," Malcolm said frowning.

There was a sharp cracking noise and the hissing of escaping air was replaced by a much louder noise. A turbulent breeze stirred up dust and smaller pieces of debris left by the explosion. What was left of the station was falling apart.

"Come on, Lieutenant," Trip motioned for Malcolm to follow as he started to run, "This way."

The two men raced through ruined corridors, stumbling occasionally over fallen objects hidden by smoke. Trip swore as his knee connected hard with a deformed piece of wall, but then kept going. There was no time to stop. The station crumbled behind them and sometimes in front of them. It would only be a matter of moments before it dissolved completely. They finally came to an open room. Malcolm stopped short when he realized they had reached a dead end.

"Escape pods," Trip explained breathlessly. He leaned over slightly and put a hand on his now sore knee. "Saw 'em on the station's schematics."

Malcolm nodded once before the immediacy of their situation sent them both rushing for the small pod bays ahead. Malcolm opened the access door to one of the pods.

"This one's gone," he said, closing the hatch none too gently.

"This one too," Trip said. He didn't bother to close his. "Looks like a few people left ahead of us." They continued to search the bays.

"Found one," Malcolm called from the far end of the room.

"Good," Trip said, "I was on my last one."

A voice from behind caused them both to turn. "Step away from the pod." It was MerAhn.

Trip and Malcolm stared as he waved the weapon in his hand toward them.

"I said step away," MerAhn said again in a louder, more urgent voice. "These pods are only designed for one person. Move now or I will kill you where you stand."

Both men raised their hands slightly and started to move away from the pod. Then their eyes were drawn to something behind MerAhn. Portions of the ceiling above him warped and bulged before their eyes. They threw themselves to the ground as it gave way. Startled, MerAhn pulled the trigger on his weapon, but it was off mark as new winds that marked the room's depressurization whipped around him. Then a portion of the wall crumbled, pinning the consul beneath a new pile of rubble.

Trip started quickly toward MerAhn's prone form. Malcolm hesitated briefly as he glanced back at the escape pod, then turned to follow Trip.

Trip knelt next to MerAhn, pulling chunks of rubble off of him. Malcolm glanced nervously around as he came up next to them, then stooped to help. Wind whipped around them and they both squinted against dust flying into their eyes.

"We have to get out of here, Commander," Malcolm said, nearly shouting over the noise. "This thing's going to go any second."

Trip leaned in more closely to assess MerAhn's condition. "He's breathin' Malcolm. Give me a hand, will ya?"

Malcolm reached in to help. Together they lifted the unconscious man and headed toward the pod.

"You heard him," Malcolm said, hanging back slightly, "the escape pod is only designed for one."

"They always build some extra into these things," Trip said. "It should be able to handle more than one."

"But three?" Malcolm asked as they bundled MerAhn into the pod.

"We can't just leave him here," Trip said, gasping in the dwindling atmosphere. " 'Sides, it looks to me like this thing just might handle the load." He gave the pod a friendly pat.

The wind was starting to lose some of it's force and it was getting difficult to breathe. They were running out of air. Malcolm nodded and ducked into the pod, Trip close behind. It was a tight squeeze with MerAhn taking up much of the floor space, but they all fit. The hatch hissed shut behind them as the pod pressurized.

Trip moved to the controls trying to familiarize himself quickly with the alien equipment while Malcolm stood guard over MerAhn. He wasn't about to underestimate this species again. Then the whole pod shook as the ground under them started go give way.

"Ok, here goes nothin'," Trip said, flipping some switches. "Doesn't look like we have our choice of destinations."

The pod lurched forward. They could hear thuds outside as parts of the decaying ship struck the shell of the pod, then the sound stopped. Suddenly free of the wreckage, they headed for the planet's surface. Trip stood up, stooping a little to keep his head from hitting the ceiling.

"There are some straps here," Trip said. "We can secure our friend here with them."

"That's probably what they're for," Malcolm replied as he and Trip tied the consul down. "A restraint system for re-entry."

"I figured as much." Trip glanced around the rest of the pod. "But since this thing is only built for one, looks like we're just gonna have to hang on tight when it starts to get rough."

VIII

"Lieutenant Hess," Captain Archer called urgently over the commlink.

"Sir," she said. Her voice was hoarse and the sound of sparks over the speaker mirrored the ones crackling on the bridge. Many systems were damaged, he prayed that the transporter wasn't one of them.

"Can you get a transporter lock now?" he didn't sound too hopeful. Hess would have already brought them back if she could have.

"I'm sorry, sir," Archer thought she sounded near the point of tears. "The transporter has sustained extensive damage."

"Do your best," the Captain said, a touch of emotion in his voice as well. "Archer out."

He gazed stoically at the scene playing out on the large bridge view screen. The station stood there, breaking apart before their very eyes. Short range sensors were finally able to read their people, but there was no way to contact them, no way to get them out. If they got too close, the proximity of the ship would finish off the disintegrating structure. There wasn't even a place to dock. His heart dropped into the pit of his stomach. He was vaguely aware of the stunned silence surrounding him. There was nothing else he could do. It would be over in minutes.

"Captain," T'Pol called from the science station, "another escape pod is leaving the station." She glanced meaningfully at the Captain. "There are human biosigns aboard."

"Can we intercept it?" Hope once again tugged at Archer's mind.

"Negative," the sub-commander replied. "In our present shape, we are unable maneuver precisely enough to avoid damage to the pod."

All eyes watched as the station shook in its final throes, watched the small white pod streak toward the planet's atmosphere.

"Track them then," Archer said, then almost to himself, "We're coming."

TBC…