Author's note: Thank you for following my first attempt at writing in this space and for thr reviews! I started this story a few years ago and never posted it, until I stumbled upon it again and decided to give it some attention. Nice to see the Enterprise fans are still around!
Chapter 3:
Explosions rocked the Enterprise, sending it lurching as it tried to effect evasive maneuvers. The comm was down and maneuverability was at a minimum as the ship was still in the midst of repairs when the Fritarins found them. The landing party was due to return to the ship within the hour when the Fritarin vessel materialized in front of them without warning and opened fire. The rendezvous with the Shuttlepod would have to wait.
As they volleyed torpedoes back and forth, Lieutenant Reed was able to take the enemy's engines offline. He had pinpointed the weakness on the Fritarin vessel after analyzing their last battle and a well-aimed torpedo leveled the playing field. However, with Enterprise limping along at impulse and the stranded landing party, Archer found his options to be limited. Reed turned to the Captain.
"Captain, that last hit took their engines and sensors offline, but our hull plating cannot withstand one more hit."
"Suggestions, Lieutenant?" queried the Captain.
"One, sir. If we head back towards the nebula, we could finish our repairs and then we'd be able to drive them away for good," Reed replied.
Neither man relished the prospect of leaving their people behind.
"Could we use the transporter?" the Captain persisted.
"Negative" related the tactical officer grimly. That last hit took it out."
The Captain conceded that they didn't have any other choice. Turning to Hoshi, he instructed, "Ensign, send word to the landing party that our rendezvous will be delayed 48 hours. Use a secure channel." And with that, he reluctantly gave the order to leave orbit.
"T'Pol out." As she closed the channel on her communicator, T'Pol began to consider the problem just laid at her feet. She was in command of the landing party and they were stranded. After Azati Prime and her Trellium-D addiction, she was reluctant to be responsible for the lives of the crew. She knew logically, she didn't have a choice. They had already been on the surface for 12 hours. Night was beginning to fall and with it, the temperature was beginning to drop rapidly. She was going to have to take decisive action.
The engineering team had been efficiently harvesting the deuterium under the competent leadership of their Chief, performing admirably in the heat and was just nearly finished with their task when T'Pol approached them trying to discern the most appropriate manner in which to inform them that they were to be stranded for the next two days without inducing panic in some of the less experienced crewmen. She decided that logic dictated a direct approach would be best.
"It appears the Fritarin vessel has returned. Enterprise has had to retreat to the nebula. We are to rendezvous with them in two days.". T'Pol surveyed their expressions. Although they appeared calm, T'Pol noted attributes that she had come to associate with distress in the two crewmen, Ensign Ginsberg and Ensign Rogers.
Commander Tucker secured the remainder of the deuterium canisters and looked at her. "You're in command, what do you propose we do, Commander?"
"I recommend we return to the Shuttlepod for the night for shelter in the event there are any sandstorms. We will rotate watch through the night. I will take the first shift" she informed them.
"Aye, ma'am," nodded the two junior engineering crewmen and they headed briskly for the shuttlepod, sensing the impending tirade bound to come from their Chief. They had witnessed the constant bickering in Engineering over the last several weeks and knew to steer clear of their boss anytime a certain Vulcan had been in the vicinity. To not do so often resulted in working the graveyard shift or worse, waste maintenance duty. Once he was sure his subordinates were out of earshot, and inside the Shuttlepod, Tucker spun on T'Pol and fixed her pointedly with an intense glare.. She could see the blonde shadow of a beard forming on his face and sand and perspiration caked in his hair.
"I'll take the first shift," Tucker voiced.
T'Pol raised her eyebrow. She could see the familiar signs of imminent exhaustion in her bondmate. After working so closely with him for the past several years, she was well aware of his penchant to work himself to the brink of unconsciousness. She would not allow his foolish human pride to get the better of him.
"That is highly illogical" she intoned. She continued, "You have been working without pause for hours in intense heat. Prior to this mission, you had been working extended hours in the engine room without rest. There is also the fact that past missions have proven that you are at risk for heat stroke. I will take the first watch, Commander."
Commander.
He was Trip in the corridor when she had kissed him just a few weeks ago. It was always one step forward and two steps back with her. Trip scowled and rubbed his chin, resigning himself to the futility of arguing with her damned logic. "Fine. But I expect to be woken up in 2 hours." he hissed.
"I will wake you when I decide you have had enough rest" she countered, almost challenging him to defy her with her intense gaze.
He leaned in towards her, eyes feverishly darting between the fire in her eyes and the fullness of her lips. He lingered just inches from her for a moment, fighting every impulse to kiss her as he felt the heat course between them.
"You're in command" he mumbled, breaking away to the Shuttlepod.
Rationally, he knew that T'Pol was unequivocally better equipped to deal with this climate, hadn't been working all day as he had, and that she was, by all accounts, able to handle herself better than he could in a combat situation, but a long time ago, he had ceased to be rational where matters of T'Pol were concerned. He tried taking several shaky breaths to cool his temper, but this did nothing to assuage his exasperation at her constant unwillingness to let him prove his regard for her. From the time they had met, she had consistently called into question his ability to be a gentleman. Then, in the Expanse, they had...Trip wasn't even sure what they had done, but within 24 hours she had taken him from ecstacy to despondency, sending him reeling. As if that wasn't enough, he was then treated to a repeat performance after being forced to watch her marriage to Koss. He remembered thinking his chest would collapse and it was nothing short of a miracle that he was able to stand witness to the nuptials as his heart nearly shredded. He knew he must have appeared pathetic when T'Les, T'Pol's mother showed him the Vulcan equivalent of empathy.
The constant inertia had nearly driven him mad and he had even left the Enterprise because of it. She had claimed she had wanted him back, but since his return from Columbia, she seemed hellbent on maintaining the same status quo. When he suggested neuropressure as a way of reconnecting, she had rejected the idea. It seemed that these days, they met more often in the whitespace and when there, T'Pol insisted on meditating instead of talking to him. This bond had only confused matters. T'Pol's emotions, while turbulent were difficult for her to identify, let alone him.
As he pulled out a makeshift bunk in the Shuttlepod, he closed his eyes, exhausted and drifted to sleep almost immediately, dreaming of the scent of candles and sandalwood and the feel of Triaxian silk on his fingers.