CHAPTER 23

Everything was dark when Hoshi, sprawled on her stomach on the hard floor, opened her eyes. A raspiness in her throat made her cough, which in turn made her head hurt. Her first reaction was not fright, but indignation. She'd just gotten over one bump on the head. She didn't need another one.

At least she still had her memory this time. She knew exactly what had happened. Shran had triggered some sort of explosive device. The force of it had blown her across the room, and she had been knocked out when her head hit something hard. Squinting into the darkness, she pushed herself to a sitting position.

"Easy, ma'am," came a deep voice, along with a helping hand on her arm.

"Thanks," she told Mayweather. "Are you hurt?"

"No, ma'am."

"We're still in the chancellor's room on the Andorian ship?" she asked, trying to get her bearings.

"Yes, ma'am," Mayweather replied.

Strong and silent was all well and good, but Mayweather's two-word answers were getting on what was left of her nerves. The man never volunteered any information. It was like trying to pull teeth to get him to talk. The Travis of her universe could be annoyingly verbose at times, but she'd never thought she'd miss him because of it. "How long was I out?" she asked.

"A minute or two," he said.

Her eyes were adjusting to the darkness. In addition to the starlight filtering in through the windows, there was some sort of dim emergency lighting. The blast must have been extremely localized, or at least directional, for she could see that the windows were still intact. If they hadn't been, she would be dead, floating around in space, instead of having this one-sided conversation with Mayweather. As she began to make out objects, she saw that she'd been tossed halfway across the room in the direction of the double entry doors. With Mayweather's assistance, she got to her feet.

"Where's Captain Archer?" she asked him.

When Mayweather didn't answer right away, she caught what she thought was a flicker of emotion on his face. It was hard to tell, since the lighting was poor and she couldn't see his dark features well. He was also wearing some sort of goggles, probably the low-light, vision-enhancing variety -- and where exactly had he kept those tucked away on his snug uniform? -- which hid his eyes. But despite all that, she could see a tightness around his lips that showed his usual confidence had been badly shaken.

"I'll show you," he said.

He led her over to where one of the tapestries was crumpled on the floor. Archer was lying on his back on the other side of the mound of fabric. A cut on his forehead was bleeding profusely, but that was of little consequence, for such wounds had a tendency to bleed a lot. No, what was worrying was the large piece of splintered wood protruding from his left side.

"Is he--?" she started, but broke off when her voice cracked.

"I don't know," Mayweather responded. "I didn't check. My orders were to stick with you, ma'am."

Hoshi dropped to her knees beside Archer. A quick inspection revealed that he was breathing, so she took a closer look at his injured side. There was very little blood oozing out around the piece of wooden shrapnel, but she knew enough first aid to know that the worst thing she could do was try to remove it. If she did, he might bleed to death in a matter of minutes.

With Mayweather's help, she quickly tore a sleeve from her uniform and held it against Archer's head wound. He had been between her and the desk when it had exploded, and had taken the brunt of the blast that had thrown her across the room. The object in his side must be a piece of Shran's huge wood desk.

Keeping pressure on the makeshift pad on Archer's head, she took a longer look around the room. The desk was no longer recognizable. Pieces of it, all with wicked-looking splintered ends, littered the compartment. Most were on the floor, but some were caught up where they'd sliced into the tapestries. Over by the communications console, Talas's body, undisturbed by the blast, lie were it had fallen earlier.

Hoshi twisted around to look toward the doors. One of the soldiers who had accompanied them was unmoving on the floor; she hoped he was only unconscious and not dead. The other was awkwardly trying to bandage his own arm.

There was one person missing. "Where's Shran?" Hoshi asked.

"There," Mayweather said, pointing upward.

She gazed at the overhead bulkhead and immediately wished she hadn't. Shran's body was impaled on the giant Ushaan Tor replica that hung over the place where his desk used to be.

She'd only just met this Shran, but he'd seemed so like his counterpart that she thought she should have felt something about his death. She didn't. Maybe it was the knowledge that Shran had set off the explosion which had taken his own life. Or maybe she was becoming immune to the shocks of this universe. More likely, she suspected, it was the adrenaline in her system and the need to deal with the moment at hand. There wasn't time right now to feel anything like regret or sorrow.

What she did feel was incredibly focused. She returned her attention to Archer. The makeshift bandage was rapidly becoming saturated with blood. "We need to get help for the captain," she said.

"Taken care of, ma'am," Mayweather said. "I contacted the ship. The doctor and Lieutenant Reed are on the way."

She let out a ragged breath as she repositioned the pad so that a dry portion covered the wound. At the rate the fabric was soaking up blood, it would need to be replaced soon. She was opening her mouth to tell Mayweather to help her rip the other sleeve from her uniform when a chirp came from his pocket. He pulled a communicator out and opened it.

"Corporal Mayweather!" came Reed's voice. "We've encountered resistance at the airlock."

Mayweather drew the pistol from his holster. He must be expecting a horde of angry Andorians to come through the doors any moment. Truth be told, so was she. She didn't understand why no one had shown up already. An explosion on her Enterprise would have resulted in repair and rescue crews, as well as armed security, rushing to the site.

"We can keep the airlock clear," Reed's voice continued, "but you're going to have to get here on your own."

"That might not be wise!" Hoshi cried in alarm, even as she realized that the human soldiers posed a bigger threat to the Andorian crew than the explosion, which probably explained why no one had come to check on Shran and Talas. "Moving the captain might kill him!"

Reed heard her, for he said, "You'll have to risk it. If we try to come to you, it will draw their forces in that direction. Interior scans show they don't have anyone near you at the moment, but that could change." He issued one last directive. "Move it, Mayweather. That's an order."

Mayweather closed the communicator and returned it to his pocket. He looked down at her almost apologetically. "I'm sorry, ma'am. My primary order to protect you has been superceded. I have to get the captain out of here."

Much as his quasi-apology touched her, she was in full agreement. "First, let me do something about his head wound," she said. She directed Mayweather to rip off her other sleeve. With deft movements, she tied it around Archer's forehead to hold the blood-soaked pad in place. "All right. Let's go," she said, standing and moving out of Mayweather's way as he leaned down to pick up Archer.

Mayweather, she noticed, had holstered his pistol. He'd had to, for he couldn't carry Archer over his shoulder, not with the piece of wood sticking out of his side. Instead, he had to use both hands to lift the unconscious man in his arms. As he was straightening with his burden, Hoshi reached over and slid the pistol from his holster.

"I know how to use one of these," Hoshi assured him when he jerked his head to look down at her in surprise. "Believe me, I want to get the captain back to Enterprise as much as you do."

Mayweather gave her an understanding look but didn't say anything. If he wanted to think that she was afraid what might happen to her as a captain's woman whose captain was no longer around, that was fine. Yes, she was afraid in that regard, but even worse, her chances of getting back to her universe probably would go up in smoke. Now she just had to convince Archer to find a way to send her home. Provided he survived, that is. If she could get him out of this alive, he'd owe her. Her grip tightened on the pistol as she followed Mayweather to the compartment's doors.

The injured soldier had hoisted his unconscious comrade over his shoulder and was waiting for them. At Mayweather's signal, he pushed the button next to the door to open it.

Hoshi made sure she was in position to have a clear shot if there was anyone in the corridor, but as Reed had informed them, the area was deserted. The discharges of sporadic phase-energy fire could be heard in the distance. Reed and the soldiers stationed at the airlock must be holding off the Andorians. As she trailed Mayweather down the corridor, she wondered if the people aboard this ship knew that their chancellor was dead. If so, they might fight even more fiercely.

They stopped just before the turn in the corridor. Hoshi took one look at the two burdened men and, pistol at the ready, slipped past Mayweather to peer around the corner. She stuck her head out, took a quick look, and pulled her head back.

She told Mayweather, "Two of our soldiers are prone on the deck, firing down the corridor away from us at the Andorians farther on. It looks like the rest of our men can't come out of the airlock, which is between our two soliders and the Andorians, because of the crossfire."

"You're going to have to go first and lay down covering fire over the heads of the soldiers on the deck," Mayweather said, "while Stevens and I run for the airlock."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Hoshi said dryly. She let out a long breath. It had been too much to hope he'd have a better idea.

"Hopefully, no Andorians will sneak up behind us," Mayweather added.

Hoshi rolled her eyes. She hadn't even thought of that. "Oh, great!"

"Ma'am," Mayweather said politely. With a grunt, he shifted Archer's limp body for a better hold. "Time's wasting."

Mayweather was a big man, but so was Archer. Hoshi realized that it was a considerable strain for Mayweather to carry the captain any distance, but the bodyguard hadn't complained.

"Right. On the count of three," she said. She took a deep breath and let it out. "One. Two. Three."

Hoshi threw herself into the corridor.

A/N: Sorry. Another cliffhanger. Stay tuned to find out what happens.