Author Notes: Thank you for the kind reviews! I really appreciate them!

Chapter 2

When the first rays of the dawn finally penetrated the branches, Malcolm allowed his shoulders to relax slightly. Without a phase pistol or dry kindling, a fire had been impossible. Moonlight had been scarce, and with all of the sounds of the night, Malcolm had doubted their survival. One saving grace was that the Captain's leg wasn't too badly broken; it seemed to be a clean break, from what they could gather, with no heavy bleeding or broken skin. Malcolm had taken second watch, after Trip, both of them agreeing that Archer needed sleep. However, he knew that they had to get moving soon. The crash site was in no way defendable, and it was bound to attract the attention of curious, perhaps dangerous, native creatures. Gently, Malcolm shook Archer awake, and then proceeded to wake Trip. The Commander blinked dozily, trying to remember what was going on, "We need to find water."

Malcolm's expression was not promising, "The animals went silent just before dawn, and I couldn't hear any indication of the river."

Jon sat up, "Well we can't stay here."

Trip placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "And you can't walk."

Malcolm tilted his head, "I've been thinking about that." Before either man could say anything, Malcolm began making his way back to the crash site, picking his way through the scattered branches broken during their 'landing'. He returned shortly, carrying a moderately straight stick, "We're going to need to splint your leg, sir."

If it were at all possible, Archer went even paler. He closed his eyes in trepidation, "Do it."

Trip nodded, "We're going to need something to tie that on with."

Malcolm frowned a second, and then took out his knife, which he had shoved in his boot. The blade was sharp, and within a few minutes, Malcolm had cut off both sleeves of his uniform near the shoulder seam.

Trip raised an eyebrow, "Well, don't let anyone tell ya you ain't resourceful." He then proceeded to do the same to his own uniform, so that they had four long sleeves of material, "I'll set it, you splint it, okay?"

Malcolm nodded, slightly pale, "Yes, sir."

"Okay, after three, okay Jon? One, two, three!" Archer's cry split through the forest, however hard he tried to keep it in.

Malcolm made light work of the splint, tying it tightly, but not so tight that it cut of the circulation to the leg. "We need a walking stick."

Trip nodded, "Right." He disappeared, just like Malcolm had, returning with a tall staff, "You're gonna get a few splinters, but it's the best we've got. We can take turns in helping you, okay?"

Wordlessly, Malcolm and Trip helped their Captain to his feet before he could protest. Placing the staff in Archer's right hand, Trip threw Jon's left arm over his shoulders, "Lead the way, Malcolm."

"And which way would that be, Commander?"

Archer smiled weakly, marvelling at the skill and inventiveness of his officers, "Away from the shuttle," He nodded through the trees, "That way."

Malcolm could feel the weight of the Captain pressing more and more down on his shoulders. Sneaking a glance at his face, he saw that Archer's eyes were closed, implicitly trusting Malcolm to keep him from falling. For a moment, his mind battled between keeping moving and stopping to rest. The compassionate side won, "Commander? Trip?"

Trip turned around half standing, half sitting on some buttress roots that he had been scaling, trying to navigate a roughly flat route, "Yeah?" his expression cleared when he saw Archer's face, "Okay, let's rest a bit."

Trip jumped back down, helping Malcolm sit down Archer. Their Captain opened his eyes in protest, "Don't stop on my account. We have to keep moving."

Trip grinned, "Weren't stopping for you – Mal needed a rest."

"He's right, Captain, I'm knackered."

Archer smiled at the blatant lie, but appreciated the gesture. He allowed himself to doze, letting the voices of his officers to wash over him in a blur.

Malcolm sat down heavily on a root, "He's not good."

Trip nodded, "I think it's the smoke and shock of the injury. He's lucky, really."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

Trip gave him a crooked smile, "He'll get an adrenalin boost before us."

Malcolm sighed, "We need water. Food we can go without, but all this exercise is going to make us lose fluids."

Trip bit his lip, "That's the thing though, ain't it? We have water."

Malcolm looked up in disbelief, "Are you hallucinating, Commander?"

"Look around us, Mal. In every crevice and crack of these trees, rain water has collected."

Malcolm shook his head, "Stagnant water, Trip, not running. We don't know how long it's been here; the temperature's quite cool. Are we really that desperate?"

"Not yet, but I'm getting there." He paused, "We should get moving."

Malcolm wanted to protest; the break had barely been five minutes, but the tactical officer in him knew Trip was right, "Shall I scout?"

Trip nodded, and went to help up Archer. Malcolm lightly clambered up the roots, gaining a low vantage point. The roots were the simplest and easiest way to climb the small, yet steep, rise in the land, "Sir? You're going to need to climb these for us."

Someone, Jon's optimism managed to shine through, "Piece of cake."

Malcolm crouched down, anchoring himself near the top and reaching down. Trip climbed half behind and half to the side of Archer. The process was long and arduous. By the time they finally managed to get the Captain to the top, their light was almost gone; it had been just gone midday when they had started the climb of less than two metres. Archer was pale, and breathing hard, but Trip had been right about the adrenalin, he seemed far more alert and awake. With barely a word spoken, the three sat against the huge tree ready for another night in their new home.

Malcolm was taking first watch. He stood at the top of the ridge, squinting in the failing light. A horrible sensation of dread mixed with determination settled in the pit of his stomach. They had barely made any progress, and yet if they were to survive, they had to keep moving. It was his job to protect the crew, both on Enterprise and on away missions, but right now, Malcolm couldn't see how he could do that. His face set into a blank mask as his senses tuned into searching for any possible threat. He would get them off this rock – he had to.

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: A bit short, I know. I'll try and make them longer. Anyway, please let me know what you think!