—Chapter 04—
The passage back to Deck 9 was a nightmare. Moving down the maintenance shafts was easy enough at first, for the way was clear to Deck 3, but then Kelly triggered a mechanical trap that drove a sharpened pipe through his thigh, and though it fortunately missed the MACOs femoral artery, it hampered his movement greatly. As to why the hell the Vulcans booby trapped the maintenance shaft, well, no one had an answer to that.
Trip left them standing there, hugging the stairs, while he went on ahead to scout the way, for he was the most likely to spot another mechanical trap and by the time he returned T'Pol was speaking to herself in Vulcan and sweating profusely, though she perked up a bit when Trip returned, and addressed them all.
"We can continue in this shaft to Deck 4," said Trip, "and no further. Someone welded plate steel across the maintenance shaft, sealing it off."
So they took the shaft to Deck 4, and then moved quietly through the deck, heading for the turbo-lift shaft, for Trip had decided that dealing with physical obstructions was preferable to dealing with the Vulcans, especially with Kelly slowing down the pack. So the turbo-lift shaft it was. They wedged the turbo-lift doors apart, and had just tied off a rope, when a Vulcan showed up, a chef's knife in one hand.
"No noise," said Trip, extending his baton, as he caught Meyers' eye. "Don't kill him."
Meyers drew a knife, while Malcolm held back, rifle at the ready, intending to use it only as a last resort to save Meyers or Trip. T'Pol leaned against the wall, and moaned. The Vulcan approached them, and Trip split from Meyers, placing the Vulcan on the horns of a dilemma, though the Vulcan soon resolved the dilemma by lunging at Trip, and slashing with the knife. The Vulcan missed, and Trip missed as well in his attempt to strike the Vulcan's knife hand, but caught his face with a backhand strike, as he drew his hand back to it's starting position. Green blood and teeth flew from the Vulcan's mouth, and he screamed briefly, before Meyers struck the Vulcan's head with the pommel of his knife. The Vulcan collapsed.
"Let's move," said Malcolm, his fingers already securing the rope.
"Meyers, take point," said Trip. "I'll follow with T'Pol. Kelly, you come next. Malcolm, you're last."
Meyers slipped down the rope effortlessly from Deck 4, and it was long enough to reach Deck 6, and once there, Meyers stepped onto a small ledge formed by the tube wall's thickness, and released the emergency latch holding the doors together, to slide them easily aside. He took a quiet look around the turbo-lift lobby, then used a small flashlight to silently signal the others. Trip, leaning a bit over the edge noted Meyers' blinking light, and responded in kind, then grabbed hold of the rope, and looked at T'Pol, who watched him warily, like a man on death row.
"I do not think that I can move down a rope, in my present condition, Commander Tucker," said T'Pol. "You must leave me here."
"Come here, T'Pol," said Trip, calmly. "We can make it."
"No."
"T'Pol," said Trip, willing the Vulcan to trust him as he didn't want to have to stun her, and surprisingly she did, moving slowly to Trip. "Hold on to the rope, T'Pol."
She did so, as Trip slipped on the pair of work gloves he invariably carried on his person. He did so in order to prevent rope burn, or slippage, and T'Pol understood his purpose. She nodded, if not with confidence in her eyes, at least with support.
"Come on," said Trip, taking the rope from T'Pol. "Hang on."
T'Pol pressed herself against Commander Tucker, placed her hands around his neck, and the two stepped over the edge together, into the darkness of the turbo-lift shaft.
"Raise your legs, and place your thighs atop mine," said Trip. "Place your legs over mine. Quickly."
T'Pol did so, then Trip placed his feet on the walls of the shaft, and T'Pol saw the sense of it. Now her thighs rested atop his, while her hands were around his neck, thus providing an extra measure of safety for her… unless the commander lost his grip. Trip started duck walking down the shaft now, breathing deeply from the effort of it all, but he made Deck 6 eventually, if not as easily as Meyers. The waiting MACO pulled them both into the lobby, then signaled Kelly, and that MACO had a good deal of upper body strength, and combined with the use of his good leg, Kelly descended two decks much more comfortably than he could have walked those same decks. Once Meyers had pulled Kelly into the lobby, he signaled Malcolm. Up above, Malcolm slid down the rope quickly, wishing there had been a way to repeat this maneuver: if there had been an turbo-lift cable, they could all have made use of it, but the Seleya utilized magnetic-levitation for their turbo-lifts, and the walls were too smooth for him to cut the rope for reuse, and climb down without the aid of a rope.
Once all stood in the lift lobby on Deck 6, they took stock of the others. Meyers and Malcolm were as good as new. Trip was good, if a bit winded still. Kelly was good, but slow. T'Pol looked fit, other than her broken fingers, but there was a strained look about her, and from they way she occasionally flinched, her eyes widened in fear, it was apparent that T'Pol was hallucinating.
"T'Pol," said Trip, and the Vulcan's head turned to him, and her eyes locked onto his own. "Three more decks, and then we get you off this ship."
T'Pol nodded her understanding, though she started hyper-ventilating.
"Slow down, T'Pol," said Trip. "Slow down your breathing."
The Vulcan heard his words, and closed her eyes. After a few minutes her breathing slowed and she opened her eyes.
"T'Pol, you help Kelly," said Trip. "Let him lean on you."
"Yes," said T'Pol.
"Kelly," said Trip, "Vulcans are stronger than us, so give her some weight to carry. Load her up."
"Yes, Commander," said Kelly, though he looked at T'Pol uncertainly, but the Vulcan confirmed the commander's words.
Next, Trip reached out to Travis, piloting the shuttle craft.
"Tucker to ShuttlePod-One."
"Yes, Commander," said Travis.
"Head back to the Starboard Docking Port on Deck 9," said Trip. "Dock with the Seleya, but don't open your door until we get there. I'll explain later."
"Yes, Commander. On my way."
Trip looked at the boarding party, and said, "We need to move."
Each man had a phaser rifle now, as Trip had Humbold's rifle, and though Kelly would be firing one handed, he was good enough to give covering fire with one hand, if needed. They began moving again. Meyers took point, Trip followed, then Kelly/T'Pol, and Malcolm bringing up the rear. They'd gone a couple of hundred feet this way, and then they heard the same metallic clanging as they had before. Trip looked at Meyers. The Vulcan they had fought together, and disabled but not killed, had regained consciousness, and was now giving the alarm.
It was a mistake to leave him alive, thought Trip. Time to get the hell off this damned ship.
They moved through Decks 6 and 7 quickly, with T'Pol practically carrying Kelly, and encountering only five Vulcans on Deck 7. Four men armed with phaser rifles made short work of them, stunning them, and moving on. Deck 8 was nastier, and scarier, for this deck was almost clothed in darkness, with only a half dozen emergency lights still functioning on the whole deck. They fought a dozen Vulcans on Deck 8, and Meyers was knocked down and mounted by a Vulcan, though he managed to hold him off long enough for Trip to shoot the Vulcan in the head, stunning the Vulcan immediately. Eventually, they made Deck 9 and entered the shuttle, to breathe a sigh of relief, for they'd heard the stomping of what sounded like a hundred pairs of feet pounding above their heads on Deck 8 earlier, all coming their way.
"Get us out of here, Ensign," said Trip.
"What about Humbold," said Travis.
"He's gone," said Trip. "Take us to the Enterprise."