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Chapter 6
"Commander, we've lost contact with Shuttlepod One."
T'Pol rose from her place in the Captain's chair, "Explain crewman."
The man at the science station gulped, frantically analysing the readings. "We lost contact with it as it entered the range of the energy source. It's interfering with scans."
T'Pol inwardly let out a sigh of relief; the new crewmembers had a tendency for dramatics. She would have to speak to the captain about it upon his return. "That's not all Commander," Ensign Bailey called over from his station. T'Pol tensed. Bailey had been with Enterprise since it first left Earth four years ago; he wouldn't cause undue concern, "Final scans indicate a full systems failure before the shuttle completely entered the field surrounding the source. Scans may not be able to pick them up now, ma'am, but all other evidence suggests they crashed."
"We are getting no readings at all from with in the field?"
"No ma'am."
Ensign Travis Mayweather twisted in his eat, "Commander, I could pilot a rescue team down in Shuttlepod Two. If all the systems cut out at once they would have had to do an emergency landing, they might need help."
Although outwardly T'Pol showed nothing, inwardly her repressed emotions were fighting a fierce battle with her Vulcan logic. The logic won. "We cannot risk another team. What happened to the first pod will likely happen to the second. There is also no evidence to say they are injured. We must follow protocol. If we do not hear from them in the next fourty eight hours, I will send out a rescue team on foot."
Hoshi and Travis sat in amicable silence in the mess hall. It was three in the morning, but neither could sleep. It was the second night they had ended their shifts with no knowledge of where their three crewmates were. It wasn't the fact that they weren't there to have dinner with, although Malcolm and Trip had become a permanent fixture in the ensign's evenings; after what they had all seen in the past four years, it was hard not to make friends. It was more the fact that they knew that they weren't coming back for definite.
Being ensigns, they were privy to both sides of the table, so to speak. They knew more that most crewmembers, being present on the bridge when meetings took place, but they were also part of the lower half of ship society, mainly the whispers and rumours. The newest crewmembers, those who had not taken part in the mission to the Expanse, were quick to judge T'Pol, saying how the Vulcan was heartless, and wanted the position of captain for herself. It was rumours like this that just made the situation worse, with tensions already running high from the absence of their Captain.
As for the engineering and science staff, they were barely seen anymore. The stench of caffeine followed any that surfaced, and dark shadows marred their faces. All were frantically working on a solution to get their Chief Engineer back. Not one of them were seen to smile.
And woe betide you if you stepped into the gym. Armoury staff and MACOs alike could be seen training harder that ever as the inevitable forty eight hour mark, and rescue mission, loomed. Armoury staff were always edgy when Lieutenant Reed got himself into something, but add to that the MACOs tension still raw from the loss of their former superior, Major Hayes, and that was just a recipe for over thirty human weapons.
All in all, Hoshi and Travis were feeling rather useless, there being no need for a pilot or linguist in a situation like this. So there they sat, waiting for a change in the situation. Knowing from experience that it would only get worse until the crew was whole once more.
"I'm so sorry ma'am." He sounded it too, T'Pol mused as she dismissed the MACO who had led the rescue party. She watched as the team dejectedly headed for decon, before heading off.
"She doesn't even look upset." muttered a junior MACO as they moved off.
"Leave off." Ensign Bailey growled, "The Commander's doing all she can. We all are."
"That may be," He protested, "but we found nothing on that planet; not a scrap of metal. She knows as well as we do. They haven't got that long if-"
The MACO was cut off as he was slammed into the wall by the armoury ensign, "We don't give up till we find them – even if we are just bringing home their bodies. The Cap'n would do the same for any of us."
The younger man struggled for breath under Bailey's grip, "Ensign!" Sergeant Kemper, another MACO had doubled back, making Bailey reluctantly release his grip.
The younger MACO coughed, and then straightened, "Sir, he-"
"I didn't see a thing, Ferris. Just a piece of advice, learn how this ship works. This isn't school; we look out for each other, but not those who insult our family."
T'Pol sat in the mess hall near a window, looking down on the planet they were still orbiting. A few tables away, Ensigns Sato and Mayweather sat side by side, each nursing a cup of coffee, but apart from that, it was empty. Dawn would be rising on the planet where their friends were, ten nights having passed since their disappearance. Today she would have to send a report to Starfleet, something she had been putting off. "May I sit here, Commander?"
T'Pol started; she hadn't heard anyone come in. Standing over her table was the ship's CMO, Doctor Phlox. "Of course."
The Denobulan smiled one of his wide smiles and took his seat, "When was the last time you meditated, T'Pol?"
The Vulcan looked up sharply, "If I wanted a doctor's advice, I would have gone to sickbay. I am fine, thank you." Her tone was clipped and sharp.
"I apologise, but one day you must accept that I ask you only in friendship. These last days have been stressful for everyone on this ship, never mind its Commander. Really, the intake of stimulants aboard this ship must have easily surpassed records held by sporting academies."
T'Pol frowned, "If the crew have been taking drugs, it is your duty to tell me, doctor."
Phlox sighed, "You really are tired. I was referring to the coffee addiction everyone on this ship seems to have at the moment. Really, humans are strange creatures, and I've known them intimately for over four years."
T'Pol made a noncommittal noise, and then mentally shook herself, "If you excuse me doctor, I have reports to review." She rose; only to half the Denobulan catch her wrist.
"I have the utmost faith in you, T'Pol, all the crew does."
The Vulcan gave a small nod, before exiting the mess hall under the gazes of three sympathetic pairs of eyes.
To Be Continued…
Author Notes: Just thought you'd like to know what's going on over at the other end! Please review, and I'll update soon!