—Chapter 03—
"Jesus," said Malcolm, looking around Deck 5, which seemed no better than the other decks they'd moved through. In fact it looked much worse than the rest, for a half dozen Vulcan corpses littered the deck, all hideously mutilated, and two of them badly decomposed. "What the hell happened on this ship?"
As if in answer to Lt. Reed's question, a noise came from one of the decks below them. It was a metallic clang, repeated over and over, as if someone was banging an iron pipe against one of the structural steel beams.
"What is that sound?" said Humbold.
"Nothing good," said Meyers.
"You don't know that," said Humbold. "It might be someone trying to attract our attention, in order to secure our aid."
"Trust me," said Meyers, and looked at Trip.
"We can't be drawn here and there by every sound, Humbold," said Trip. "We keep heading for the Bridge. That's our best option for figuring out what's happening aboard this ship."
"Yes, sir," said Humbold.
They moved past the corpses and moved through Deck 5, which seemed to be a largely social deck: personnel quarters, kitchen, two mess halls, a gym, several multi-purpose rooms for entertaining, etc… but these once welcoming spaces seemed forbidding now, seemed threatening. They'd made it halfway through this deck when the banging began again, this time coming from one of the decks above them. Seconds later, answering noise came from below, and the members of the squad looked silently at each other at that, and then kept moving.
Soon after, Kelly, who was the point man of the boarding party stopped, and raised his right hand, which brought the squad to a halt. A sound came from the left, but the darkness hid the source, and then two more sounds came from somewhere behind them, and something that sounded like a growl came from straight ahead, though nothing, and no one, was visible, but it was clear to every man, that they'd been surrounded by something or someone, and the boarding party dealt with it per StarFleet training, odd men facing starboard, even facing port, all peering outwards towards whatever was out there. Since stealth was no longer a factor, every rifleman flicked on the the small flashlight built as part of the phaser rifle's stock, and panned them outward, the dim blue light playing over the cold manic eyes, hard faces, and wicked looking melee weapons held in the hands of the Vulcan crew of the Seleya, though they looked more like madmen, or perhaps dead men, than professional officers of the Vulcan Navy. The only thing which had restrained these Vulcans from attacking, was the slight self-interest still left in them, which feared rifles possibly set to kill.
"We move to the stair well, fifty feet to port," said Trip. "Now."
They did so as a unit, Kelly and Malcolm clearing the way by stunning the Vulcans blocking the port side, while Humbold and Meyers picked off the bolder Vulcans on the starboard side, with Trip aiding whichever side need help more, with his pistol fire, and they made Deck 4, shutting the access hatch behind them. There were alternate ways for the Vulcans to follow them onto Deck 4, but every other option would take a while, given that the turbo-lifts were not functioning.
"Go!" said Trip to Malcolm, having just disabled the mechanical security lock on the same door which Malcolm was now prying apart using some structural steel he'd picked up off the floor, and was now using as an improvised crowbar.
A few moments later Malcolm had pried the door open far enough, and Malcolm shouted, "Move! Move!"
Kelly rushed through, and almost immediately the electric shriek of his phaser rifle, sounded once, then again, and then once more.
"Malcolm, go," said Trip, and Lt. Reed obeyed those orders, only their dire situation preventing the Lieutenant from arguing that it should be Trip who goes first.
Immediately, Malcolm's phaser fire was added to Kelly's, and Kelly shouted, "Clear!"
Trip yelled, "Let's go Meyers! Now!" and slipped through the open door.
Meyers backed through the doorway, phaser rifle at the ready.
"Give me a hand," said Trip to Meyers.
Trip and Meyers pushed the door closed, then Trip quickly engaged the manual lock, and looked at the men around him. Humbold was no longer a member of the boarding party, for his skull had been split open by a Vulcan using a fire-axe as a weapon, a Vulcan as covered in sores as the rest of them, and as aggressive as a rabid pit bull. Meyers had switched his weapon to kill on his own initiative and had blown that Vulcan's head apart as payback, but there was nothing to be done for Humbold, so they left him where he fell, and moved on, taking Humbold's rifle with them.
"They came out of nowhere," said Malcolm.
"What now, Commander?" said Meyers, Malcolm and Kelly listening. "I say we find a way back to the shuttle, and bug out of here."
"We're closer to the Bridge, than we are to the Starboard Docking Port on Deck 9," said Trip. "We make it to the Brige. It will be secure by design."
"If it's impossible for them to get onto the Bridge after us," said Kelly, "it will also be impossible for us to leave the Bridge. They'll just starve us out."
"Have faith, Kelly. There's always a way out," said Trip. "This isn't a squad leader speaking here, it's an engineer."
"Yes, sir," said Kelly.
"We should move," said Malcolm. "We've got the rest of Deck 4 to navigate safely, then two more decks before we take the Bridge."
"Right," said Trip.
Deck 4 had been relatively empty after the initial rush, as was Deck 3, but Deck 2 was a nightmare. The Vulcans must have been holding a convention there, for the boarding party was swarmed at every twist and turn, and it was only the professionalism of Kelly, Reed and Meyers which allowed them to make their way to the access hatch, and it was they who bought Trip the time required to bypass the security lock on the hatch, and finally give them access to Deck 1, and the Bridge. They quickly entered the Bridge and closed the door, which activated the security protocol, and sealed the door. Only seconds after they'd closed the door, heavy thumps sounded through the doors as the Vulcans began beating on the doors with steel tools.
"I'm going to have nightmares about this mission," said Kelly.
Malcolm nodded his agreement, a bewildered look on his face, but Meyers laughed, and said, "Come on, Lt. Reed. This whole thing just gets the blood moving."
"Meyers, you cock," said Malcolm, "I'm going to get up and beat the stuffing out of you, if you don't shut your mouth."
"Yes, sir," said Meyers, but the MACO couldn't stop laughing at Malcolm.
Meanwhile, Trip glanced round the Seleya's Bridge, impressed by his first look at the Bridge of a Vulcan battlecruiser. He took note of the fact that something of a Situation Room was located to the back of the Bridge, on a raised dais, and two doors led off the Bridge, one of which was likely the Captain's Ready Room.
"Both of you," said Trip. "Shut up, and let's get to work."
"Yes, sir," said Malcolm, and Meyers nodded.
"The lights are working, so the Bridge has a secondary source of power. We should try to learn what we can from their computers. Malcolm, get in touch with the Enteprise," said Trip, "send Hoshi some photos of your menu options, and have her talk you through the system. See if you can access their records, or the captain's logs."
"Yes, sir," said Malcolm.
"Kelly, you and Meyers stand guard at the door," said Trip. "They'll never get in by battering that door down, but if one of them knows how to bypass the security lock we're in trouble, so give me a shout."
"Yes, sir," said Kelly, and Meyers confirmed his orders with a nod of his head.
While the three men went about their appointed tasks, Trip searched the Bridge, and found what he was looking for, behind a metal grate which he removed in no time. As expected, he found a maintenance tube which carried data cables, power lines, and scrubbed air to the Bridge, and it was big enough to allow a Vulcan to move through the tube on a wall mounted ladder, in order to allow the maintenance crew to service the ship. Satisfied, Trip moved through the first door off the Bridge, to find a conference room for the Bridge crew. Quite logical, he thought, and moved through the other door to find the Captain's Ready Room, as expected. It was larger than Captain Archer's, and it had been an elegant room once, but now the desk was flipped over and broken, the walls smeared with green blood, the bookshelves overturned and the wall mounted video monitor smashed. Trip was about to return to the Bridge, when he heard a slight sound, coming from a side room that was probably a lavatory.
Phase pistol in the left hand, extensible baton hilt in the right, Trip moved silently in the direction of the noise, and peered cautiously inside, then drew suddenly back when a Vulcan jumped at him with admirable speed, knife in hand, viciously hacking at Trip's face, but Trip was ready, and as the Vulcan thrust the knife he'd pressed the button which extended his steel baton, and struck the Vulcan's knife from her hand, for he saw now as she backed up, holding her hand to her chest, that he was dealing with a Vulcan female. This one had no sores on her face and hands, and though there was pain and perhaps fear in her eyes, she did not radiate that cold rage and hatred he'd seen in the faces of the other Vulcans.
Kelly, Malcolm and Meyers had rushed the Ready Room upon hearing the ruckus, and quickly raised rifles and took aim on the Vulcan who had retreated into a corner, but Trip said, "No!"
The three men looked at him now, and Trip said, "Get back to your posts."
"Sir," said Kelly, "I don't think th—"
"Now."
Kelly looked at the others, shrugged, and left, taking the others with him, as Trip turned to face the Vulcan. She remained standing in a corner, cradling her hand, and staring at Trip with confusion, so Trip drew the comm unit from his pocket, and activated the Vulcan/English translator app.
"I am Commander Tucker, of the StarFleet vessel Enterprise," said Trip. "We are here to help."
His words were translated into Vulcan, but the Vulcan did not reply, and Trip wondered briefly if the translator app was working properly, but then the Vulcan said, "I speak English."
Her words were translated from English to Vulcan, so Trip shut off the translator app, and pocketed his comm unit.
She'd spoken tentatively, and she still looked confused and perhaps fearful, but it was a start. Trip compressed his baton and slipped it back in his pants pocket, the Vulcan watching him like a hawk.
"Who are you?" said Trip.
"My name is T'Pol," said the Vulcan. "I am the Deputy Science Officer of the Seleya, Commander Tucker."
"People call me Trip, T'Pol," said Trip. "It's a nickname."
"Vulcans do not employ first names, or nicknames, with people they have just met, Commander Tucker."
"Fair enough," said Trip. "We need to talk, T'Pol. Let's sit down in the Ready Room."
"Very well," said the Vulcan, then turned her head suddenly, as if she'd seen something out of the corner of her eye, and gasped.
"What's wrong, T'Pol?" said Trip.
The Vulcan looked back and Trip, and it took almost a minute before T'Pol said, "I am losing control, Commander Tucker, and I believe that I will probably descend into madness like the rest of the crew, in a matter of days, or weeks at most, if I do not get off this ship."
"We'll have you off the ship long before that," said Trip.
He led the way into the Ready Room, and T'Pol followed the Human. She watched him flip a couple of chairs over.
"Come on, T'Pol," said Trip, indicating the chairs. "Please."
She sat, although the chairs were too close together for her liking. What if the Human jumped at her? He might overpower her in her present condition and kill her before she could—. Breathing deeply, T'Pol fought down the rising panic and sat.
"You're the only rational Vulcan we've met so far, T'Pol," said Trip. "Are there others like you aboard the ship?"
"I am the last, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol, involuntarily noting that the Human's eyes were a fetching shade of ice blue which no Vulcan had ever displayed, "and I do not believe that I am rational at the present time."
"You're a science officer, T'Pol," said Trip. "Is there anything we can do for the rest of the crew, perhaps aid their recovery?"
"I do not believe so, Commander Tucker. Perhaps your ship's Medical Officer can aid them. I can not. My medical knowledge is inadequate."
Trip nodded, accepting the Vulcan's logic, and noticed that she was still cradling the hand which he'd struck with the steel baton.
"I need to look at that hand, T'Pol," said Trip. "I may have struck you hard enough to break your hand. I'm sorry about that."
"You were not at fault, Commander Tucker."
"Your hand, T'Pol…"
Slowly, cautiously, T'Pol extended her hand, and the Human took her hand in his. He was gentle as he probed her hand with his fingers, and something about the Human's demeanor or glance, calmed T'Pol down a bit, and she felt something close to regret when he released her hand, for it was her first recent contact with another being which carried no danger for her.
"Yeah," said Trip. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. Your middle, ring and pinky fingers are broken. I'll fashion a splint for you, until our doctor can look at the hand. Wait here."
"Yes," said T'Pol.
Moments later, Commander Tucker returned with a First Aid kit, and with reasonable skill he fashioned a splint which bound T'Pol's three broken fingers together, and then pulled out a loaded syringe.
"What's that?" said T'Pol, fearful now that Commander Tucker had changed his mind, and meant to poison her now, meant to get rid of her!
"A localized anesthetic, T'Pol," said Trip, "to dull the pain."
"I do not need an anesthetic," said T'Pol, and noted the Human studying her closely.
"Your call, T'Pol," said Trip, "but you don't need to fear me. I will never hurt you."
Something in the man's look, or his voice, touched T'Pol and she said, "All right."
Trip injected her gently with the anesthetic, and within seconds the pain in her hand indeed subsided.
"Thank you, Commander Tucker."
"You're welcome," said Trip, standing. "Now let's get off this ship. Follow me."
When Trip and T'Pol made the Bridge, Malcolm looked at Trip.
"What is it?" said Trip.
"Computer access is restricted by an alpha-numeric password," said Malcolm. "I've had no luck cracking the code."
"The computer system was reset when main power went down," said T'Pol, suspiciously: perhaps she could trust this Commander Tucker, but the rest… "What do you want with our computer systems?"
"Anything that would tell us what happened here, T'Pol," said Trip. "Captain's logs, medical records, something, anything, to take back to your people."
"There is no need to search the computers, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol. "I can answer all your questions, but we need to get off the Seleya. Perhaps your doctor can do something for my crew."
"All right," said Trip. "Let's go."
"If we're going out the front door, Commander," said Kelly, "I recommend setting phasers on kill, given how resistant they are to our stun settings."
"Those are Vulcan officers and crewmen, Human!" said T'Pol. "Your doctor may be able to heal them! You will not kill them!"
"She's right, Kelly," said Trip. "In any case, we're going out the back door. Come on."
Seconds later, with everyone looking down the maintenance shaft, Meyers said, "Will this take us all the way down to Deck 9?"
"The maintenance shafts cover every section of the ship, Meyers," said Trip,"but we may have to change shafts now and then."
T'Pol nodded, and said, "Commander Tucker is correct."
"What about her?" said Malcolm, noting T'Pol's hand. "She won't manage all that way with a broken hand. We'll have to exit the shaft, and try our luck in the open, for her sake."
"I will manage, Lt. …"
"Reed," said Malcolm.
"I will manage, Lt. Reed," said T'Pol, "but we should move now, while I still can. My thoughts... my irrational thoughts and fears are difficult to control."
"Right," said Trip. "Kelly, you've got point again, I'm behind you, then T'Pol, then Malcolm, then Meyers. Let's go."