Captain's Starlog, Supplemental. With the help of Crewman Daniels, we have managed to travel into the 20th century, where he claims that the Xindi went to eliminate the human race. The Chief Engineer managed to repair our impulse drive, so the travel to Earth from Jupiter took eight hours.
"How's our warp drive going?" Captain Archer walked with his Chief Engineer among the bustle and hustle of the crew welding and merging ship parts together in one of D-Deck's corridors.
"All our antimatter injectors are fried, sir." Trip walked by the captain in rather large strides. "Given that there isn't a Jupiter Station in this century, we will have to build the parts from scratch."
"How long will that take?"
"A week. Two, tops."
Archer winced a scowl, and then turned to Tucker, "Daniels said that we would encounter a few more bad guys in this century. You and Mr. Reed concentrate on weapons repair first."
"Aye sir."
Soon, the Captain is in his quarters, reviewing his log.
He heard a hail beep from the door, signifying that someone is standing outside his quarters.
"Come in."
The door retracted to the side as it gave way to T'Pol, with a padd on her hand. The door soon closed behind her as soon as she was arm's length from the Captain.
"Report."
T'Pol answered a moment later, "Captain, I've isolated the Xindi biosigns. They are located in two locations. It appears that they have taken location in two islands."
"It appears?"
"The tracking scanners are not accurately aligned yet."
The Vulcan Science Officer offered her padd to the Captain for him to see.
And Jonathan Archer was perplexed, a bit. One group of Xindi biosigns are in about the middle of the United Kingdom, the other group, much smaller, are in some small island deep within the Baltic Sea. Remembering Daniels mentioning a powerful group of new enemies, the Xindi must be near them. But why split? Why in Europe?
"What about their ships?" He gathered his breath to draw it little by little.
"There is one ship in each group."
The Captain then forgot his Science Officer's existence for a while. He turned back to face the window, contemplating the appearance of stars and of the Planet Earth glowing with light blue hue right below them. He searched for the United Kingdom from the window, but he couldn't see it because it was completely covered in clouds.
"Captain?"
Jonathan looked up to the rather quizzical expression of T'Pol—or so he thought she is.
He looked down to the padd; studying it one last time before handing it to her, "Organize three search parties, with three MACOs each. Inform Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed, and Major Hayes. Have Travis prep Shuttlepods 1 and 2."
A crewman drove Shuttlepod 1 for Major Hayes and his search party, while Archer drove Shuttlepod 2 for Reed and the others. A beep at the right of the control panel convinced them that they have entered Earth's atmosphere. Soon the former tweaked some buttons on the control panels around him as T'Pol and the senior officers behind him braced for turbulence.
Fortunately for Archer and his crew, Shuttlepod 2 made a rather smooth landing: a feeling that they feel they're new to since they got so used to Enterprise shaking and wobbling around them.
The gull-winged side latch opened as soon as they landed. An arm shot out from the opening; tipped with a phase-pistol; fulfilling the scanning nature of the human eye. One may think that doing so may not really be necessary, because they have scanners to detect biosigns, anyway. But you see, Archer and his officers have never completely relied on their scanners. They have been fooled many times into thinking that nobody hostile is near them, inside Enterprise even.
It was Archer's arm. When it seemed done with scanning the background, the rest of his body followed. The rest of followed suit, following protocol of ranking order as it should. T'Pol started scanning as soon as she got out.
She noticed that two Xindi biosigns are inside a castle about seven, eight hills before their eyes, and the other two in the nearer town on the foot of the hill they're standing on. And so they decided to split. Archer had Tucker and Reed to go to the town with three of the MACOs. The others went with him to walk their way into the castle.
Trip and Malcom sure thought that in their 20th-century clothing, they could blend in perfectly with the crowd. But sure, they don't. Everyone around them was wearing different clothing. Long, flowing robes and coats with seemingly ragged fur dragged along the bodies of the townspeople. Some had pointed top hats. And the roads, too, are strange. Aren't they supposed to expect asphalt-coated roads in the 20th-century? What they are walking on are dirt roads, if not roads of cobblestone. And there are no cars. No cars! Just big wheelbarrows and horse-driven wagons tread the streets as they leave lacerations upon the soil. The lighting is strange, too. None of them are operated electrically. They are fired up by candles, fireplaces, and gas. That and all that, along with the rickety hovels and banal, croaky conversation among the local folk, made Reed swear that he is so going to head straight back to Decon once he gets back on board.
"Oh, we're closing on them. 500 meters." Trip announced what he saw from his scanner, which was well-hidden inside his leather jacket.
Malcolm forgot about the Decon for a while, and as he flicked his eyebrow to the MACOs behind him, he cocked his phaser to stun. The MACOs seem to understand him well. They charged their weapons, long SMGs that resemble M16s. Those weapons would have been difficult to hide from public view if it weren't for the dim sidewalks they're slithering on.
Now they're on the prowl now. Tucker headed to where his scanner is pointing, as he was half-aware that he's slowly sticking out his own phase-pistol despite the betraying lighting. Nobody seemed to have noticed him do that, though, since where they're headed is too dark for them, anyway. Soon, the blue light from Trip's scanner won the prize of lighting his face versus the sable glow of the nearby lamppost. Only when it was very dark (and four meters away from the Xindi biosigns) did the MACOs' flash light-tipped guns glowed in a blink. Now, assuming that the Xindi are armed, they concentrated flashing their lights on the direction Tucker is looking at when someone, maybe six meters away from them, cried in a cruel voice:
"Avada Kedavra!"
Green light pulsated from two o'clock, soon right across them, and a dead MACO body fell before Reed with a loud thud.
It was only hence automatic that they have to return fire upon the many shrouded figures that now appeared before them. The MACO's body, still glowing faint green, proved good a mark so that they wouldn't trip on her. Tucker's team felled plenty of these shrouded figures, but they explicitly knew that they are overrun, perhaps surrounded. Luckily, Reed found a good cover behind a couple of wagons filled with pumpkins.
He beckoned onto the others quick; covering fire as he was waiting on them. One figure shot a red light just a few inches amiss a MACO's gun; hitting a wagon wheel instead. Though many pumpkins rolled over to the hostile biosigns' direction, more served as a perfect blockade for all of them, including Corporal Ramirez, who was the one killed with the green pulse.
They had no choice but to kill the hostiles now, as they know that the Xindi-Reptilians they saw in Tucker's scanner have suicide glands on them and that kidnapping them for interrogation would do them no good. Tucker managed to kill one of them as soon as he saw a yellow beam graze just two inches away from his cheekbones. The place, which is actually one of the town's outskirts, was slightly lighted, thanks to the lampposts and to the brandish of colors from phasers and uh, fireworks?
Soon after, Trip flipped his communicator to have a word with the captain.
"Trip to Captain Archer," he found himself panting slightly.
"Go ahead." The Captain's voice was slightly choppy via communicator.
"I've found them, Captain. And it looks like they've got powerful friends."
"What's happening there?"
"We're taking heavy fire here, Cap'n. I'm not sure if we can hold out for long."
"Can you make it to the shuttlepod?"
"We can, sir, but are you sure you want them to know where we last parked?"
"Take the shuttlepod. You can come back for us later. We haven't encountered anyone hostile yet."
Trip muttered with guilt as he gathered himself for a moment. "Aye, sir." And after another moment, much longer than the first, "Tucker out."
With the 'out', Trip flipped his communicator closed. He lead Malcolm and the others back to the pod, with increasing difficulty as these shrouded figures kept popping right before them. One even muttered "Crucio!" and then Reed was writhing in the dirt for a few moments. Fortunately, Tucker phasered that figure dead in time-moments only before he lost his phaser to someone who just shouted "Expelliarmus!"
Trip followed the bouncing phaser with his eyes before losing it in the hillside. Would losing a pistol get him into a heap of trouble? Well, maybe. Even if they are in the town's outskirts, losing any of the 22nd-century equipment like that would certainly contaminate the pre-warp culture of the 20th century AD. Especially the backward pre-warp culture of oil lamps and pumpkin wagons.
But with the Transporter online the morning after, he still could retrieve it, can he?
Just when he was assured by this thought, a red pulse of light struck his thigh. It gave him an instant rasping pain all across it, and the coffee-brown 20th-century denim pants turned red and smelly. He could not walk.
Reed recovered quickly from the dirt, and took Trip's arms to his shoulders. The uphill ground made it more difficult for two people in pain to walk, but getting there is worth more than their lives. Their bodies alone are enough to contaminate the culture they found right behind them.
A MACO slammed the pod door as soon as everyone got in. Tucker had difficulty piloting the pod because of a large gaping wound across his thigh. Another MACO had torn the fabric to clamp it down. They waited on another MACO, who was preparing the bandage.
And so Reed was flying.
The pod raced up, up, up the sky on full impulse, though, and with smoother flying pattern as soon as Reed got used to it. Trip, although oblivious to the environment around them, was certain that one MACO claimed to see "black smoke" through the window following them with exceptional, matching speed.
They have managed to make through the thermosphere in time, just when these smokes failed to "follow" them.
"Tucker to Enterprise!" He let out a strangled shout.
"Enterprise," That was Hoshi's voice.
With stifled breathing and labored heartbeat, Tucker went on. "Have Dr. Phlox meet us in Decon." He swallowed, "We have casualties."
The castle, however, was quiet when Archer's party snuck in. At first they hesitated to enter it, as it is a ruin, with a warning that says that it is a dangerous building. But let's say that after all this near-death experiences with the Klingons and the Xindi, a ruined building could not stop them.
They got near enough. It wasn't a ruin. It was a grand castle. They saw immediately that the torches were lighted, compounding the assertion that there are indeed plenty of human biosigns inside. So though they actually saw no one, they cocked their weapons to stun.
Naturally, T'Pol held out her scanner to search their way in.
"The Xindi are 20 meters north and 50 meters above us." She looked up to the Captain.
"Where's the shortest way?" he asked.
The Captain watched his Science Officer tap her touch-screen scanner daintily with her ring finger. "There is a staircase at the end of the corridor to the nearest left."
So they were supposed to move forward. But T'Pol backed down a bit with one foot, and pointed her phase pistol at that direction.
"I'm detecting a biosign, Captain. It's a cat."
Archer let out a disbelieving scowl.
"A cat won't hurt us, T'Pol."
T'Pol, convinced that a human would know more about a cat than a Vulcan would, lowered her pistol and had her captain lead the way. And so they walked on, even until they saw the cat itself. It had long, grey, tabby fur, bloodshot eyes, and pointy ears. Though Archer was slightly annoyed when the cat kept following them up the staircase, they went on; ignoring it as best as they could. Then the cat mewed. The cat mewed loudly, much to their alarm.
"Where you think you're going?" a raspy voice echoed through the corridors behind them, "Mrs. Norris already sniffed you out."
At an instant, Archer and the others pointed their pistols. Annoying, annoying cat gave away their position. At one instant, he was thinking about stunning the cat, but the Homo sol in him let out the humanitarian, irrational conscience; something that any other race wouldn't understand.
"You can't hide."
Sure, they know that they are now being followed.
"Seven meters." T'Pol looked up to him. "Human."