A/N: This is a little something inspired by Will Smith's song "Mr. Nice Guy." There's a line in it that goes "Look at the eyes, got the look of a survivor,
husband, father" Maybe it sounds a little strange, but this came about from that line. The only thing I wanted for this was Trip to recognize the look of a survivor in someone else. This is how it turned out. Hope you enjoy!
It was supposed to be a simple survey mission. Of course, it was both well known and well understood that anything with the name Starfleet and more specifically, Trip Tucker, attached to it was inherently not simple. Seperately, these two entities had a way of complicating even the most basic of ideas. But when combined, it was not uncommon for some kind of guide book to be necessarily consulted. Experts had to be called in, opinions were submitted, and the whole process was rather lengthy.
An apparently uninhabited Minshara class planet with some interesting geological formations seemed a little silly, a little unreal, compared to what we had been doing before stumbling across it. Having just avenged seven million plus twenty three deaths, the very idea of reverting to our old ways seemed laughable. But at the same time that the crew laughed with the obvious absurdity of the concept, they rejoiced in the simplicity of survey missions. There existed very strict, very detailed, protocol for such a mission. Everyone knew there would be no issues of morality, no choosing between life and death, no mourning the passing of a crew member, on a simple survey mission. Of course, the fact that it was their beloved Commander Tucker leading the expedition should've striken fear into the hearts of all those assigned, but they were too excited with the prospect of following protocol.
We all piled into Shuttlepod One, fitting in together amongst the kits and sample packs like sardines in a can. It was my turn to pilot the shuttle, so naturally I took up the pilots seat, with Malcolm in the chair to my left, and Ensign Marsters, one of the security detail, on the right. Malcolm had insisted a complete security team accompany the mission, and for once I agreed whole-heartedly without argument. We had learned long ago that apparently uninhabited was not the same as actually uninhabited. The team was rounded out with Ensign Valdez, and Ensign Montgomery on the bench on Malcolm's side. Besides the five of us, there was Ensign Liz Cutler, Crewman Dragos, and Crewman Bietz, all biologists and all experts in their respective fields. They chattered amiably in the back while I laid in the course.
After a minor course adjustment due to some unforeseen space debris, we were on our way to experiences unknown. I found a strange nervousness coming over me as the grey and blue planet loomed ahead in the front viewscreen. Granted, I was always a little wary before landing on an alien planet, but never outright scared. The excitement always overrode anything else. This time, I could feel my hands shaking as I reached out to steady the aft thrusters.
It was a short trip to the atmospshere, and then I had to concentrate hard enough on the piloting that the nervousness faded away. Not before Malcolm noticed, though. I felt his wary gaze on me as I dealt carefully with the rough atmospheric conditions, but this was no place for a conversation on the subject. Malcolm was far too discreet for that.
While still on Enterprise, we had chosen a suitable landing site that seemed to be the hub for all interesting aspects of this planet. Within walking distance of a mountain range, a lake, and a series of honeycombing caves between the two. Malcolm and I had already split the group into different teams to tackle the different aspects of the survey so we could finish up quicker and more efficiently. The landing was smooth, though not nearly my best. Malcolm issued the precautionary phase pistols, then the hatch was opened and we split up.
Now, being the horror movie buff that I am, I immediately recognized the inherent danger in dividing the group. But despite our less than perfect track record, I don't think any of us -besides probably Malcolm, who saw danger in his breakfast peanut butter pancakes- really believed that this planet harboured anything detrimental to our health, save maybe an insect bite, or scraped knee. Still, we procceeded with a fraction of our original excited, caution-to-the-wind style approach.
The planet itself was pretty remarkable; it could've been Earth, except the grass was the wrong shade of purple, and the navy blue trees grew taller than anything I'd ever seen back home. But the sun felt the same, and even if the smell was a little off, it was close enough for me to get those homesick pains in my chest. That, combined with the fact that Malcolm hadn't yet holstered his phase pistol, was enough to put the rest of my nervousness to ease. My stomach settled, and my hands were steady once more.
Ensign Marsters, who along with Liz Cutler was acompanying Mal and I to check out the caves, consulted his scanner. Malcolm, I noticed, frowned at the Ensign's holstered pistol, and I knew the young Australian was in for quite a tongue lashing when we returned to ship.
"Looks like there's a cave mouth six degrees east. It appears to open into a central cavern."
"Right then,"Malcolm said, in the no-nonsense superior officer kind of tone I'd been hearing from him more and more often. "We'll head in that direction."
I tactfully chose not to remind him that I was the superior officer in attendance. I simply nodded, and fell into step between him and Cutler, who was enraptured by whatever data streamed across her scanner. The other two teams, consisting of Valdez and Dragos, and Montgomery and Bietz, had broken off to retrieve samples and geophysical readings from the lake and mountain range, respectively.
The temperature was cool, low enough that we had broken out the Starfleet issue inclement weather jackets from the shuttlepod. For whatever reason, the pod hadn't contained any woman's sizes; Ensign Cutler was positively swimming in her small male sized jacket. I tucked one hand under the opposite armpit as we travelled across the mauve grass, occasionally reading the data my scanner was busy collecting.
The landscape was mostly hilly, small purple mounds gentle rolling into the distance. If I squinted up ahead, I could've seen a darker mark in the otherwise cheerful purple that might've been the cave Marsters was speaking of. By twisting around in the direction we had come from, I could still see the shuttlepod, and even further beyond that, the two pairs of crewman each moving towards their own survey goal. The mountains disappeared beneath a cloud of fog, but the sun glaring off the lake made it quite obvious. It probably would've been more interesting to explore either of the other two features, but Malcolm had dashed any hopes of that by saying that since the caves posed the greater security risk, it made better sense that the more experienced of us explore them. It appeared as though he had forgotten my ability to find trouble in nearly any situation. But it wasn't like I was going to be reminding him anytime soon.
We arrived at the cave's mouth nearly twenty minutes later, and took a brief cursory scan around the place. According to my scanner, the cave was made of some kind of sedimentary rock, which couldn't tell us much of anything. I glanced sideways at Malcolm, who was busy studying his own instrument.
"I'm not reading any biosigns,"he said, catching my eye from around Marsters and over Cutler. "Doesn't that seem a little strange?"
I frowned, thought back to fifth grade science. "A cave is a great natural source of shelter. Even if this planet isn't inhabited with humaniods, some kind of small animals probably would've made a home here. You're not really anything at all?"
"Not even a dustmite. It seems to be almost sterile."
My eyebrows raised almost to my hairline at that point. It's not that I doubted Malcolm, or anything, but I found myself calibrating my scanner anyway. Moments later, the same data Malcolm had assuredly been seeing was scrolling past my own screen. My frown deepened a quarter of an inch. "Maybe the rock is affecting our readings." I whipped around, facing Ensign Cutler. "You're the biology expert. Is something like that possible?"
She took a step closer to the rockface, gently laid a hand on its surface as though she didn't want to injure it. "In theory, yes. But I can't identify this type of rock, so it's impossible to know for sure. We have nothing to compare it to."
I caught Malcolm's eye again, and noticed instantly that he was thinking the same thing I was. A cave on a planet like this that appeared to be empty was probably not so empty. I slipped a hand into the chest pocket of my uniform, and pulled out my assigned communicator.
"Tucker to Captain Archer."
There was a moment of silence, then the Captain's voice came over the channel, sounding slightly distorted. "What --- Trip?"
"We're at the caves now, Cap'n. But they're mucking up the scanners. There doesn't appear to be any kind of like in there."
"---a little suspicious, isn't it?"was his reply.
"That's what we thought, sir. What do you want us to do?"
There was another little pause, probably during which he was calculating the odds of me finding some kind of trouble. He came back on a moment later, and said, "---trust you, Trip. Be careful, and stick --- to Malcolm. Keep --- phase pistols ready."
Then quite abruptly, the line was cut. I continued trying for a few minutes, but it seemed as if there was something blocking the communicator.
"Could someone be jamming our communications?"I asked Malcolm. Cutler and Marsters had wandered a few feet inside the cave taking their own readings, and Malcolm kept a careful eye on them while answering me.
"There was no one in orbit when we arrived. T'Pol did have some difficulty scanning the planet due to some kind of chemical in the atmosphere. I suppose it's possible."
My eyes flickered to the darkened tunnel before us, as my hand instinctively landed on the phase pistol attached to my uniform. "I think I can interpret what the Captain said. You wanna do this?"
He didn't grin, but something glimmered in his eyes when he said, "Let's do this."
We entered the cave with caution. Malcolm took point, with me and my scanner right behind, and Cutler in between me and Marsters bringing up the rear. The cave was damp; in some places, water dripped down the walls and pooled on the stone floor. It had a musty smell too, like the attic of my mom's old house back home. Pretty standard cave description, I guess. Except for the glowing moss. It seemed to grow everywhere it was moist, blossoming down the walls in streaks that ran parellel to the leaking water. It thrived in the corners, looking just like moss back on Earth, save of course, for the luminescense.
We waited somewhat impatiently as Cutler scanned the moss, and took a sample for further analysis back on board. Then we were back to business, continuing forward at a snail's pace further into the muted darkness.
"Three years ago, we'd have explored this cave already, and been on to the next,"I said, quietly enough so only Malcolm could hear. He glanced conspiratorially at me out of the corner of his eye, then said, "three years ago, we were a lot more naive."
"Are you saying we're still naive?" I stepped away from him to scan my own portion of moss, and when I stepped back, he smirked and said, "Not all of us, no."
I would've like to protest that statement, but at the moment, I was too busy wiping the floor dust off my face. Looking down on me, Malcolm was suddenly all professional again. "Are you all right, sir?"
He extended a hand which I gladly excepted. "Fine, Malcolm. Don't know what I could've tripped on down here, though."
I could see the gears moving behind his eyes, probably trying to come up with a suitable comeback that had something to do with my own feet, but he knew now was the not the time. I grabbed my flash light from an inner pocket inside the jacket. Until this point, the moss had provided enough light that we didn't need them. For some reason though, the moss in this section of the tunnel was dimmer than the rest, a fact that I hadn't noticed until I couldn't see the floor beneath us.
I flicked the light on, and shone it on the floor, backtracing my steps.
"There,"Malcolm said, pointing to a spot on the floor. I aimed the light carefully, and all four of us sub-consciously took a step closer. A single handle, like something you'd find on a shuttle hatch, stuck out of the floor. There were no apparent hinges, but that of course, didn't mean anything.
"I guess this planet's not quite as uninhabited as we thought." Malcolm's gaze flickered from the handle to my face, and back.
"It could be abandoned. Look at the dust."
Looking closer, I found he was right. An even coat of dust and debris covered the handle and the floor around it in equal amounts. Surely if whatever was underneath this hatch was used regularly, the dust would be disturbed.
"What should we do, sir?" Marsters looked like he had already decided what he wanted to do. His phase pistol was drawn, and he was double-checking its charge. I turned to Malcolm, and was unsurprised to see him doing the same. It was times like this that I hated being a superior officer. I briefly considered contacting the Captain, but remembering what he said earlier, at least, what I think he said earlier, he would probably tell us to proceed with caution.
I shrugged. "We've come this far. It'd be a shame not to go all the way. This is more of your arena, Mal. Why don't you lead the way?"
He glanced sharply at me, but if that was for calling him by his nickname, or insinuating that it was even conceivable for someone other than him to lead us down there, I wasn't sure. It didn't seem to matter though, because a second later he was kneeling next to the handle and trying to presume his first act.
"I'll drop down first,"he said, looking to me, then Marsters. "I'll make sure the way is safe, then Commander, you jump down after me. Ensign Cutler, you're next, and Marsters, you're bringing up the rear."
We all nodded in understanding, then Malcolm got to work on the handle. It took a few tries before he was able to finally lever it open. The blackness we found down there was so complete and so overwhelming it almost like the cavern was filled floor to ceiling with the purest black ink. I pulled a pair of dormant glowsticks from another pocket in my uniform, and handed them to Malcolm. Without a word, he snapped them half, and now lit, tossed them into the hole. They fell for maybe six feet before hitting the floor that seemed to be identical to the one we were standing on.
I knelt next to him, and stuck my hand in the hole, taking scanner readings from the area. "I'm getting one biosign, weak and fading."
He gently pushed me out of the way, now suitably motivated to get down there. Phase pistol in one hand, flashlight in the other, he dropped down into the hole, landing in a neat crouch. His pistol was up and aimed before anyone could say 'boo', and after checking out the perimeter, he motioned for me to join him.
My drop was considerably less graceful, and after Malcolm helped me back up to me feet, I took a quick look around the room we now found ourselves in. Instead of the naturally formed caves above us, this chamber was obviously man-made. Or, sentient-being-made would be more politically correct, I guess. The stone walls were smooth, almost polished, as if some kind of laser had carved it out of the natural stone. The room was largely featureless, except for a metal door carved into the opposite wall. A small, square instrument panel was set in the stone next to it.
Cutler dropped down behind me, and Marsters came soon after.
"I think it's pretty obvious there's no weak and fading biosign in here." My eyes landed on the door. "We have to go through there."
"I agree,"Malcolm said, holding up his scanner and nearing the door. "I'm getting minimal energy readings. This door should still open mechanically."
That was my que. I pocketed my flashlight, and took out a portable tool kit the size of a small PADD from my uniform. Cutler stepped over and held up her light as I removed the panel and peered inside. "These lines are still live. This shouldn't take but a moment."
True to my word, about a half a minute later, the doors shuddered theatrically, then slid open. And stopped with a three inch gap between them.
"Well, too bad we're not a bunch of Suliban,"I said, frowning at the obstinate doors. With Malcolm on one door, and me and Marsters on the other, we managed to force them open enough for us to fit through. And consequently, enough for someone to take aim and fire an energy blast. The bolt struck Marsters in the shoulder, sending him spinning and flailing down to the floor. He landed hard, and didn't move.
"Get him out of the way!"Malcolm cried, both taking cover and taking aim at the same time. Cutler and I each grabbed a boot, and dragged him out of the line of fire.
"How is he?"I asked her, as she knelt next to him and ran her scanner up and down his still body.
"He's allright. Just unconscious." She paused, and frowned a little. "At least, I think he is. I'm not a doctor, and this isn't a medical scanner."
"Do the best you can." I got to my feet once again, and careful not to get myself shot, I joined Malcolm at the doors.
"It appears to be some kind of automatic fire. A security precaution, no doubt."
I grabbed my tools from where I had dropped them earlier, and set to work on the panel again. "I might be able to reroute the power from here. Hang tight for a minute. And remember, Malcolm. There's still a biosign in here."
He scoffed, but I was pretty sure it wasn't at my rather unnecessary pointing out of the obvious.
It was a full five minutes before I had identified all the components in the open panel before me. I knew Malcolm was getting impatient, both from being unable to catch a shot himself, and from the fact that one of his man lay on the floor with a plasma burn to his shoulder. Unfortunately, one thing both Malcolm and the Captain didn't understand is that the universe doesn't use some kind of technological standard. Because I knew our own systems so well, I had a rough understanding about how others might work. But that was a far cry from putting it to practical use. It took time to get to know new systems, and to rush it might get me killed.
It was another two minutes before I finally realized what I had to do. The laser fire stopped a second later, and we all breathed a collective sigh of relief.
Despite my reassurances that the room beyond us had no power, Malcolm still entered with his pistol drawn. We left Cutler with Marsters in the anteroom, telling her to keep her phase pistol within reach.
I stepped inside the room behind Malcolm, and flicked on my flashlight. The room we found ourselves in looked similar to the one we had left, save for its size. It was nearly eight times as big as the one behind us, almost twice as high, and filled nearly to capacity with all kinds of equipments. I stepped up to a computer console, running my fingers over the touch screen buttons. I didn't recognize the language, but without Hoshi down here, and no power to the terminals besides, it was a waste of time to wonder what the panel did.
"Trip." Malcolm's almost whispered exclamation of my name was so out of character it reached me faster and more effectively than if he had screamed my title. My flashlight found him standing facing the far wall of the room, as still as a mannequin. I was at his side in a matter of seconds.
Without a word, he motioned towards the wall ahead of us with his chin. I followed his gaze, and nearly threw up on the spot. The back wall was lined with cages, barely a metre by a metre and a half. There were sixteen all together, eight along the bottom, with eight more ontop of those. They seemed to be made of some kind of dense metal, but the scanner was having difficulty trying to identify what.
That wasn't the shocking part though. The part that made me want to vomit up breakfast, that made my blood boil in my veins, was the bodies that lay still and unmoving in each of the cages.
"Jesus Christ,"I breathed. I had been raised a Christian, where speaking the Lord's name in vain was tantamount to beating up a little old lady. But at the moment, I was certain the Pope himself would've had something similar to say if he had been here instead of me.
I shook off the useless, hopeless feelings of anger and shock, and remembered my command training from Starfleet. They taught us to compartmentalize, to section off the horror you might experience until you were safe, and could deal with it properly. It seemed Malcolm was thinking along the same lines as myself, because starting at the opposite end, he began running his scanner over each of the bodies.
I started at the end nearest me, and stayed only long enough to discover what species the corpses belonged to, and to make certain they were in fact corpses. The cages had two kinds of dispensors, one for water, and another for some kind of nutrient gruel. If the condition of the bodies was any indication, though, neither the water nor the gruel were in sufficient amounts. The bottom of the cage was simple mesh, allowing any waste to fall through into some kind of container below. Most of the bodies were naked, but some were still dressed in scraps of dirty clothing.
During my scanning, I found an Andorian, a Tellarite, even a Klingon. And a host more from species the scanner couldn't identify and I couldn't even hazard a guess. What I saw in the nineth cage I checked is something I had no problem identifying, and knew I would have even less trouble forgetting even decades from now.
A young boy, human to both my eyes and the scanner, was crouched in the farthest corner of the cage. He watched my movements with impossibly big eyes, tracking me with a kind of wariness born of abuse and self-preservation. It was a look I knew well. He was dressed in only a pair of tattered shorts, covered in some kind of filth. Hair that looked to be originally blond was now dark brown, plastered to his forehead. He was quite literally skin and bones; I could easily count his ribs even from a distance and with minimal light.
"Malcolm." I spoke his name quietly, so as not to further frighten this poor soul. The boy started when Malcolm showed up anyway, his eyes widening ever further. He began trembling, so badly the cage rattled right along with him.
"Dear God,"Malcolm murmered, his face softening into a piteous expression. "We've got to get him out of there."
Although I definitely agreed with him, I knew that was going to be easier said than done. "He's not going to trust us, Malcolm. Look at how he's been treated. Are any of the others alive?"
He didn't need to shake his head for me to see the answer. I could read it in his expression.
Proving true to my track record of luck on away-missions, the automatic fire chose that specific moment to come back on. I had no time to wonder how that could've happened given I'd disconnected the power before the first shot grazed the sleeve of my jacket, singing the material. Demonstrating his officer-quick train of thought, Malcolm threw himself into a crouch and got off a few shots.
"Distract the guns!"I shouted to him. "I'm gonna get the kid out."
Grabbing my small kit of tools once more, I had picked the lock in no time and the door to the boy's cage swung open. A part of me was hoping, rather irrationally, that the kid would leap into my arms and we would run out the door to safety. But of course, real life was always more complicated than my fantasies. If anything, the boy grew more anxious. I heard a couple of shots ding off metal surfaces on the other side of the room; Malcolm was attracting the auto-fire well enough.
"Look, kiddo,"I said, speaking loudly to be heard over the sounds of battle on the other side of the room. "Do you speak English?"
Although he didn't give me any acknowledgement in either way, a part of me knew he understood what I was saying anyway. "My name's Trip. I'm from the starship Enterprise. We came from Earth. Do you know Earth?" Again, he didn't reply, but I read the hint of recognition in his blue eyes well enough.
"We're in a little bit of trouble here,"I told him, motioning over to where Malcolm was diving behind a computer console. "That machine is firing at us, and we have to get out of here. But I'm not going without you, all right? You think you can come with us?"
"Trip, look out!"
Although I appreciated the thought behind it, the warning came too late to save me from pain. The auto-fire managed to track me, and got off a shot that glanced off my left side. Even though it was just a deflection, the power behind the shot was enough to send me flying backwards. I crashed into a console, eyes shut tightly against the burning pain in my left side. I didn't know how extensive the damage was, and wasn't all that keen to check it out.
I felt a soft pressure on my hand, and opening my eyes, came face to face with the boy. He held my hand tentatively, although still not certain he could trust me. His gaze flashed from my face to my injured side, then back again, almost in silent query. Grimacing, I started to pull myself up. He let go of my hand, and stepped back a few feet.
"It's okay. I'm all right. Just a flesh wound. We've got to get out of here now. Can you come with us?"
My side was in agony, I felt like screaming, and there was nothing I could to help Malcolm at the moment, but I knew I couldn't push this boy. He needed to make the decision to come with us, not be forced into it.
He didn't exactly leap up with enthusiasm, but his wide eyed gaze flickered over to the gun firing on Malcolm. He looked back to me, seeming to study my face for any kind of ill-will. I held my hand up, hoping he would come to the right conclusion on his own, and I wouldn't have to stun him to get him out of this hellhole.
After a minute of wary-glaring, his delicate yet surprisingly strong young hand was placed carefully in mine. I let him take a minute to adjust to the contact, then gently tugged him towards the door to the lab. This time he needed no encouragement, and quicker than I could blink he had leaped over a fallen tray and was pulling me towards the open door.
"Malcolm!"I cried, as we ran dodging blaster fire and equipment. He took the hint, and I soon heard the sound of his footsteps echoing behind us.
We reached the anteroom without incident, and I was grateful to the powers that be to see that Marsters was sitting up on his own, though looking rather pale and sickly. It would've been murder to try and get him back up that hole if he was still unconscious. Both him and Cutler looked surprised to see a small boy holding on to my hand like it was his lifeline, but both knew better than to question it. Malcolm arrived a half a second later, just ahead of a phase bolt that came through the still open door and melted the stone next to Cutler's foot.
"Commander, I'll give you a boost out."
I knew better than to question him this close after a firefight; I was likely to get my head blown off if I did. I stepped towards him, but found myself halted by the little boy that still held my hand.
"Kiddo, we've got to get out of here. Okay? Malcolm's not gonna hurt you. I promise."
He didn't reply, but I felt his grip loosen considerably, and then my hand dropped to my side. I smiled at the boy, then without wasting anymore time, allowed Malcolm to boost me out of the hole. The young boy came next, throwing his tiny arms around me and attaching himself around my chest like some kind of barnacle stuck to the bottom of a boat. Oddly enough, though, even with his apparent need to be near me, he was careful to avoid the burn. I leaned back down and helped Cutler out, then while Malcolm boosted Marsters, Cutler and I hoisted him up. Malcolm got himself up, by jumping and grabbing onto the ledge, then swinging himself up like some kind of gymnast.
He slammed the hatch closed behind him, then with Mal and Cutler helping Marsters along, we were off. The boy's trust in me had apparently grown, because he had yet to let go of my hand. Or maybe he was just thought I was the lesser of two evils. In the brighter light of the cave tunnel, with Cutler's flashlight bouncing off the walls, it was even more evident how poorly he had been treated. It would be impossible to estimate his age next to such malnutrition. I would be money on the fact that my phase pistol, tool kit and scanner would weight more than him.
We reached the mouth of the cave, and when a harsh wind blew through, the boy shivered next to me; I could almost feel his teeth clacking together. Without a word I slipped out of my jacket, which by some miracle had remained unharmed save for a little singe, and tucked it around the boy tightly.
"Can you make it back to the shuttle?"I asked Marsters. He looked a little better, his colour was certainly better than it had been. He nodded stiffly.
"I'll be all right, sir. Don't worry about me."
If it had have been a different situation, I would've snorted laughter. He was saying this to the two most experienced men in the if-we-ignore-it-it's-not-really-happening camp. Both Malcolm and I had to have said those very same words more times than either of us could count. I knew he was going to be all right then, if he had the strength to reassure us.
I took the boy's hand again, and we set out across the grass towards the shuttle.
Only a handful of steps out of the cave, he tugged gently on my uniform. I looked down to his questioing glance.
"We're heading to our shuttle. The shuttlepod will take us back up to Enterprise." I pointed up to the sky, though I really wasn't sure where exactly the ship was. He seemed fascinated by this idea, and sticking close to my side, craned his neck to watch the sky as we walked.
Enroute, I contacted the other two teams, ensuring their safety, then hailed Captain Archer on Enterprise. Whatever had been interfering with communications before was gone now.
"What'd you find, Trip?"
I wasn't about to get into it all on an open channel being cast over the bridge. There was really no reason for everyone to learn of the horror down there in that cave. Besides, I didn't want to go through the story more than once. I would be bad enough the first time.
"Maybe that should wait, Cap'n. Can you have Phlox meet us in the launch bay?"
Perhaps he recognized the tone of my voice, for he didn't ask who was hurt, or what had happened. He simply assured me they would both be there, and signed off.
We arrived at the shuttlepod not long after that. The other teams had arrived already, and were busily preparing to launch. Valdez and Dragos both got up to help Marsters onto the bench, and Montgomery relinquished the pilot's chair to Malcolm. I stepped forward to climb inside, but as before was stopped suddenly by the deceptively strong hand intwined in mine. The boy's eyes were as wide as dinner plates once more, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the shuttle, or the people inside it. Instead of asking, I knelt before him, wincing at the pull on burnt flesh.
"We're got to get in there to go up to Enterprise. You don't have to worry about anything, okay? I'm gonna take care of you, and no one in there wants to hurt you anyway."
"Commander!" Malcolm's prompting wouldn't have worked. He could've taken off two metres away, and still I wouldn't have left this boy here. Of course, Malcolm would never take off without me, so the point was moot. But it's important to clarify how close I felt to this boy given that I'd only semi-met him ten minutes ago.
He eyed my side carefully, chewed on his lip a little. He was really cute, I noticed in the light of day. Looked strangely familiar in an off-hand kind of way, even though I was quite certain I had never met him before. He looked past me into the shuttle again, then sighed softly.
"Okay?"I asked, standing again. I took a tentative step towards the pod, and when he followed me, quietly rejoiced. We climbed inside the pod, and Valdez closed it behind us. Six pairs of eyes on him, studying all his moves, obviously made the poor child uncomfortable. I sat down heavily at the end of the bench, and he leverred himself into the corner between me and the interior wall, burying his face in the crook of my arm. I caught Cutler's eye, shrugged lightly at her smile, and closed my eyes.
The once blinding pain had diminished slightly, but I knew I was in mad need of some pain killers. If there's one thing you learn as an engineer, it's that burns are terribly painful, and best left alone if you can manage it. When the fates conspire against you, and you suffer one anyhow, painkillers are your friends. Always and forever.
I don't remember much about the shuttlepod ride up. There was only pain, and the strangely comfortable weight of the boy against my undamaged side. I didn't open my eyes until Captain Archer was opening the pod hatch once we were safe in the bay.
A medical crew rushed in, and loaded Marsters carefully onto a stretcher. They carried him away, and the pod emptied quite quickly. I wasn't in any rush, though, and my companion seemed content to remain sitting on the bench. So we stayed. And hoped no one would think to come looking for us.
So what do you think? Please let me know. I'm not too sure if you guys are going to like this one.
I'm going to say this now, cause I know it's going to come up. I realize a blast like Trip got would be far more painful than I wrote it. But let's just say his adrenaline response to the whole scenario took the edge off. He's in a kind of shock, I guess. I suppose I could explain that in the next chapter.
Anywho, please read and review. Feeds my plot bunnies.
