222
Trip carved a large curve with the shuttlepod, approaching his landing coordinates. "There is the clearing. Right where it's supposed to be," he cheerfully announced.
"Why, did you have any doubts about T'Pol's instructions?" Malcolm asked. "You're forgetting that she is a fine officer."
Trip laughed. "Hey, let's not discuss T'Pol right now. Or I might get distracted and crash-land. Besides, this is Shuttlepod Two and we have no bourbon. Or did you secretly stash some?"
"Forget what I said," the lieutenant hastened to reply, "Just keep your concentration. Let's at least try and get this mission off to a good start."
As soon as the pod had touched down safely, Tucker began the shut down procedure, while Reed went to gather their equipment. He got their backpacks, which were prepared and ready, and phase pistols for himself and the commander.
The two men stepped out of the hatch and an eerie silence enveloped them. They both stood still for a moment, studying their surroundings.
"So many trees and not a single bird," Malcolm wondered aloud as he scrutinised the lush vegetation. Aside from some odd colours, the forest looked very much like something you might find on Earth.
Trip shrugged. "Could be a good thing," he chuckled. "One thing less for you to worry about. With our luck, they'd have probably been carnivorous monsters lookin' for ways to expand their menu."
Then he closed the shuttlepod hatch and took out his communicator, flipping it open.
"Tucker to Enterprise."
"How are you doing, Commander?" Archer's voice replied at once.
"We just parked the car, Capt'n, and are about to set off on our little promenade. Talk to you when we reach the wreckage."
"Understood. Archer out."
Reed raised his scanner and moved it in a circular motion around them.
"It appears that we're indeed all alone," he said, confirming T'Pol's information. "At least for the time being," he mumbled to himself as an afterthought.
"How romantic," Trip joked. "Come on, Lieutenant, here is your backpack. We have a nice little walk ahead of us and something tells me that you'd rather lead the way."
Malcolm chose to ignore the teasing and hoisted the rather heavy pack onto his back; then, with a glance at his padd for direction, he started resolutely towards the edge of the forest.
The terrain wasn't very rough, but the going was slow on account of the lush vegetation. The air, as T'Pol had mentioned, was heavily laden with humidity, and after about forty minutes of trudging in the undergrowth the two men were drenched in sweat.
Trip grunted and grabbed Malcolm by an arm. "Hey, Mal, can't we stop for a minute? We don't get a prize for gettin' there a few minutes earlier, you know?" he grumbled.
Malcolm turned, a smirk playing on his face. "Is the air too dry for you, Commander? Or is it walking on these sandy dunes that you find exhausting?"
Trip chuckled and unburdened himself of the backpack. Then he got the water out and took a long swig, leaning heavily with his back against a tree.
"You oughtta see yourself, Lieutenant, you look like you just took a shower without removin' your uniform."
Malcolm groaned and put down his pack as well, more than a little glad – not that he'd ever admit it – to take a short rest. If anything, he was the one who was likely to suffer more in this sort of climate. As far as he was concerned, water – be it on the ground or in the air – was something to be avoided at all costs.
Trip consulted his padd. "Accordin' to T'Pol's scans soon we'll be goin' downhill," he stated after a moment.
"Don't move, Commander," Malcolm replied, in that low tone of voice Trip had learnt to recognise as meaning 'danger'.
Tucker tensed and lifted his gaze, trying to keep his body still. He noticed that Malcolm's eyes were fixed on the bark of the tree behind him, on a spot a few inches above his head, and saw the lieutenant slowly reach for his phase pistol.
"What the…"
Malcolm lifted an arm to cut him off. "There is lizard-like animal a couple of inches above your head," he explained, still in that creepy, baritone pitch of his.
Trip saw Reed raise the pistol and take aim. "What do you think you're doing?" he choked out, his eyes wide with alarm.
He noticed Reed squirm at the interruption but right then he couldn't care less about hurting his friend's feelings and charged on, in an urgent whisper, "Not that I don't trust your shootin' skills, Lieutenant, but a couple of inches don't sound like much of a margin for error, and this is my head we're talking about. I like it just the way it is."
Malcolm clamped down on his irritation. "Are you challenging me, Sir? Or perhaps you intend to wait and find out whether our little friend's jaws are lined with poisonous fangs," he said in a low grumble, as he straightened his arm out again and squeezed one eye shut.
"No to both questions! Besides, are you sure you're supposed to kill the fauna of this planet?" Trip insisted, starting to fidget.
"Who said anything about kill? The pistol is set on stun," Malcolm quietly answered. "Keep still, for heaven's sake!"
A second later a red beam cut the still air and Trip felt a weight fall on top of him. He leapt forward, violently shaking his head, but the weight – the lizard he guessed – seemed to be holding onto his hair for dear life.
"Get this damn thing off me!" he hollered, not daring to touch it with his bare hands.
Malcolm hesitated for a fraction of a second; then threw his lighter frame hard against his friend, tackling him. They both fell hard to the ground and the abrupt jolt was enough to dislodge the creature from Trip's head. The lieutenant, who had already rolled onto his knees, quickly aimed again and fired.
"Captain, I've detected discharge from a phase pistol on the planet," T'Pol's calm voice stated.
"Are you sure?" Archer enquired with a frown.
"Quite," the Vulcan replied.
Tucker turned and saw what looked vaguely like a large, brownish chameleon lying near him. "Uhgh!" he exclaimed with a shudder and a grimace of disgust, "Reptile-like creatures have always given me the creeps."
"It didn't bite or scratch you, did it?" Malcolm asked with a note of concern in his voice.
Tucker regarded him suspiciously for a moment.
"Why the hell didn't this -- whatever it's called -- fall stunned the first time you fired, Malcolm?" he enquired after a moment, studying the lieutenant with narrowed eyes.
There were a few seconds of silence.
"You didn't answer my question, Trip: did it bite or scratch you?" Reed questioned again.
"And you didn't answer mine, Lieutenant: why was the creature still alive and well after you fired at it the first time?" the engineer retorted firmly.
Trip's adamant tone of voice and use of rank obtained the desired effect.
Reed cleared his throat and suggested, "It might be because this alien creature is more resilient than I thought…"
"Or..." Trip prompted, reading unease in Malcolm's eyes.
Reed scowled. "Or because your fretting, Commander, made the blasted thing move just as I pulled the trigger; and, as if that weren't enough, this bloody humidity made sweat drip in my eyes!"
"Aw gawd!" Tucker exclaimed after a moment of stunned silence, "That thing was only two inches above my head!" he growled, "Do you realise that…"
A chirp interrupted his tirade. He reached for his communicator.
"Tucker," he answered, trying to stifle his irritation.
"Trip," Archer's anxious voice crackled through. "Is everything alright? We detected weapon's fire near your biosigns."
"Ah, nothin' to worry about, Capt'n," Tucker reassured him, with a level look at Reed, "Our Armoury Officer just stunned a lizard that wanted to camp on my head."
"You're both ok then?" the Captain enquired.
"Yup, both in perfect health," Trip said with forced cheerfulness. As long as Mal here keeps his pistol aimed at anything but me, he added to himself.
"It's good to hear that," the Captain replied, with an audible sigh of relief. "Talk to you later, then. Archer out."
Trip flipped the communicator shut and turned to Malcolm. He glared at him for a moment, then got up and held out his arm to the lieutenant, who, after a slight hesitation, accepted it gratefully. Trip smirked and pulled Reed to his feet.
"Come on, Buffalo Bill, we'll never get to that ship if we sit here arguing."
Malcolm chuckled. "Sorry about… uhm, you know…" he offered, in a conciliatory tone.
"Ah, forget it, Malcolm. The important thing is that we are still holding out against TUSAM."
"TUSAM?" Reed enquired, puzzled.
"The Unlucky Star of Away Missions," Trip replied with a wink.
Bursting into a liberating laughter, they shouldered their backpacks and marched on.
TBC