The Chaos Series - pt 3

THE CHAOS SERIES
An "Enterprise" story

Written by Alison M. DOBELL

RATING: PG-13.
ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.
FEEDBACK: Welcomed. SPOILERS: Last episode of Season 3.
EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com
WEBSITE: http://carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html
DISCLAIMER: The usual disclaimers apply. The characters and ‘Enterprise’ are the property and gift of Paramount and part of the wonderful legacy of Gene Roddenberry. No infringement of copyright is intended.
SUMMARY: "Trip and Malcolm take a team down to the planet surface to look for the Captain. T'Pol discovers they are not the only ship trapped in the wrong timeframe.”

NB: Translations of German phrases are at the end of the chapter.

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Part 3

The Search For Truth

* * * * *

"You can't come, T'Pol!"

"I would remind you, Commander, that in the absence of Captain Archer I am in charge of Enterprise."

"Exactly!" Said Trip as if she had just proved his argument.

She frowned, her irritation upset him but he would not back down. Not from this. Lt Reed was already briefing his team and would be waiting for him in the shuttle bay. It should have been easy for the Chief Engineer to simply barge passed her but any kind of opposition produced disharmony between them and the discord hurt. Not just on a mental level but on a physical one too. Trip did not understand but some sixth sense accepted that this was simply the way it was. Like Siamese twins what hurt one of them hurt the other. A wave of dizziness washed through him and he shut his eyes, desperately needing to regain his equilibrium. He did not want to fight with T'Pol. Not now, not ever.

A cool touch on his cheek surprised a tear. He loved her so much. Didn't she understand that losing his best friend was bad enough? Losing her would kill him. Fortunately they were alone in the corridor. It was the only moment of intimacy either of them could afford.

*Ashayam.* Her thought whispered in his head. Before he could respond her fingers slid over the contact points and she dived into his mind, the walls opening before her in an automatic response he could no more prevent than stop breathing. She was his breath, his air, his oxygen of life. Her touch was the feast he could dine on for all eternity.

*Please, T'Pol.* His thought sighed brokenly in her mind. Not too proud to beg. *I can't do this if you oppose me.*

He could feel her heart's hesitation. Her face now mere inches from his. Her breath caressing the tears on his face. Then her lips on his ignited a timeless passion. Closing his eyes he fell, trusting her to catch him. *Always, Ashayam.*

"We don't have time for this." He murmured as he held her close to his heart.

T'Pol wrapped her arms around him in gentle but firm possession, the kiss deepening. Tongues dancing slowly, savouring the contact with a quality and depth that went way beyond the physical. Minds enjoined, hearts enflamed, every emotion shared. Every touch celebrated with such acute intensity it was like dying and being reborn at one and the same time. They did not need to make love for their passion to shatter into view and remake them in each others' image. Over and over they relived their moments together in the space of a single heartbeat. The gathering of a deep abiding love rising from two very different perspectives and meshing into the conjoined heartbeat of one being. It was amazing, astounding and so totally addictive that neither could imagine life without the other.

"I like the way you wanted me
Every night for so long baby
I like the way you needed me
Every time things got rocky

But I'd rather you be mean than love and lie
I'd rather hear the truth and have to say goodbye
I'd rather take a blow at least then I would know
But baby don't you break my heart slow..."

- 'Baby, Don't You Break My Heart Slow' written & sung by Vonda Shepherd

"I need to be with you." T'Pol whispered as they pulled out of the kiss.

The universe had barely taken a breath in the paradise they claimed. "I know, darlin'." He responded huskily. "I feel it too but Enterprise needs ya an' I need to go find the Cap'n." He paused, kissed her lips so gently and so fleetingly that an angel's breath would have been heavier yet the touch seared his imprint right through to her Vulcan heart. She knew he was right. It was logical. But logic did not rule her completely any more. He knew what she was thinking, what she was feeling, and brushed his lips across her cheek, her eyes aching for him, his heart breaking to be so torn. "Ya have to let me go." He murmured.

She nodded, the burden of duty settling back on her diminutive shoulders yet to Trip she was the strongest lady he had ever known. Hell, she was the strongest person he had ever known. Human or alien.

"Be careful, ashayam. We have already lost the Captain, if I lose you I will never forgive you."

He smiled and raised the first two fingers of his right hand, hers rising to form a mirror image. Their fingers touched, their understanding of one another perfect. That cherished harmony re-established Trip looked at her with all the love in his heart then turned and left. For several minutes T'Pol stood stock still even after her ashayam was out of sight. The memory of his presence like the lingering bouquet of a very fine wine. She could not leave until she had savoured every last seductive drop. Closing her eyes she inhaled his essence. Heart aching for him, body missing him already. Her eyes opened and she paused. When the shuttlepod took off T'Pol straightened, turned and walked crisply back in the direction of the bridge. Enterprise needed her. Just as the Captain needed her ashayam. For now she would allow it, but woe betide any being who harmed a hair upon his head for her wrath would know no bounds. Puny mortal lifeforms would not stand a chance. Almost she pitied them.

* * * * *

"I don't understand."

The alien flexed his facial muscles in what might be the equivalent of a grin. It was hard to tell when the face that looked at him appeared to have rhino hide. The most expressive thing about his enemy were his eyes. Humans called them windows of the soul. "Understanding is not necessary for you to embrace your fate."

"Fate?" Spat the Captain weakly, trying to distance himself from the pain wracking his abused body as his indignation rose. "Do you know how offensive that sounds to me?"

Something glittered in the alien's eyes and Captain Archer knew he had amused his captor. "We will be the dominant species and you will be nothing more than a fleeting irritant whisked away on the solar winds. A grain of interstellar dust. As insignificant in the future as you were in the past." He paused. "A fitting epitaph for the human race is it not, Captain?"

He wanted to get up off that damn bed and wrap his hands around the gloating throat but he was so weak and it was hard to stay conscious. Vaguely it confused him. Shouldn't he be getting better? Stronger not weaker? Or had he lost more blood than he thought?

"You should never have interfered. Now you, and all who have opposed us, will pay the price."

Captain Archer was confused. All? What did he mean by that? Or was he saying that all his crew would likewise suffer? Had they beaten the Xindi threat only to face something far worse?

* * * * *

Commander Tucker was deep in thought which suited Lt Malcolm Reed. They had just taken off from Enterprise and he quickly began the careful descent to the planet's surface while Enterprise rose gracefully then veered off. The ship would take up a high holding pattern and await contact on the success or otherwise of the mission. Radio silence would be maintained unless contact was absolutely necessary. Two MACOs, Corporals Mayo and Fox, completed the four man retrieval team. Ensign Hoshi Sato had programmed German into the lexicon of languages on their Universal Translator but he was hoping they could avoid any direct confrontation if possible. Which was as likely as the Commander developing a sudden and life long aversion to pecan pie.

Trip sighed softly and looked over at Malcolm. "Cap'n's signal still strong?"

Lt Reed nodded. "So far."

What in the hell did he mean by 'so far'? Was he expecting them to lose it? It took an effort of will for the Commander not to snap at his friend, knowing only too well that it was his anxiety and worry for the Captain making him on edge. He closed his eyes and recalled the Vulcan breathing techniques T'Pol had taught him. The mere thought of her inducing a level of calm and control that still astounded him.

"Commander?"

His eyes popped open and he stared at Malcolm, surprised to see a look of concern on his face.

"Are you feeling all right?"

Trip smiled. "Couldn't be better. Just recharging my batteries."

The Commander noticed the two MACOs were standing ready to disembark. Trip raised an eyebrow and looked at the Armoury Officer. "We there?"

His friend nodded, already sorting through the small amount of gear they would be taking with them. Trip checked his phase pistol was on stun then followed the other three out of the shuttlepod, surprised to find themselves on the edge of a large dark forest.

"Where are we?" He breathed in a loud whisper.

"Behind enemy lines." Came Malcolm's short tart response.

The Commander clamped his mouth shut knowing the response was also an admonishment to keep quiet. Point taken. He could be as subtle and quiet as anyone else. He glanced back and stopped suddenly. Lt Reed frowned at him. "Commander, we don't have much time."

"Keep your shirt on Lieutenant I'm lookin' at the shuttlepod."

"What about it?"

The MACOs crouched like dark shadows along the edge of the tree line and waited, almost rendered invisible by their black body armour. "Don't ya see it? We can't just leave it like that. Even if no one saw us land it sticks out like a sore thumb."

"What do you suggest we do, Commander?"

Trip turned his head and glanced back at the forest. "Camouflage it."

He was about to make a sarcastic remark then realised the Commander was right. He looked across at the MACOs. "We need to camouflage the shuttlepod."

Corporal Fox nodded once as if the order were expected and the two MACOs sloughed off into the forest. Trip began searching too, picking up pieces of bracken and broken branches. Trouble was all the pieces were small, nothing bigger than two or three feet. Lt Reed scowled. "We'll be here all ruddy week at this rate, Commander. This is ridiculous."

"Maybe we could use the phasers to cut some larger branches and..."

At that precise moment the MACOs returned empty handed. Commander Tucker frowned but before he could say anything Corporal Mayo spoke. "There's a small clear thirty metres north sir. I believe it would be quicker and more effective to coast the shuttlepod into it."

A brilliant smile lit the Commander's face. "Good idea, Corporal. The sooner we stash it outta sight the sooner we can go get the Cap'n."

Malcolm nodded his approval then waved to the others to make their way to the clearing while he sprinted back to the shuttlepod. When he saw the clearing he skillfully eased the shuttlepod into its temporary hiding place. Now. If the rest of the mission went half as well as this he would be a happy man.

* * * * *

The tension aboard Enterprise was muted but palpable. Ensign Travis Mayweather had a boomer's gut feeling that retrieving the Captain would be the easy part. How would they even begin to go about returning to their own timeline? And if they were here in the past what effect would that have on the future? Both theirs and the people now on Earth? It boggled his mind but he was confident if anyone could work it out it was this crew. He glanced across at Hoshi Sato and a little smile dusted his lips. As if feeling eyes on her she turned her head and smiled at him. Travis felt better already. It was the little things that made the mundane special. Just so long as he could enjoy them with the stars beneath his feet.

* * * * *

Captain Archer lay back and watched the now still canvas above his head. The wind had died right down but there was still a surreal quality about this whole thing. Reality seemed to be something that escaped him for the moment. Slowly he became aware of the regular noises around him, the wounded being tended, low but harsh voices speaking in the guttural tongue of former enemies. He had once proudly proclaimed how Humans had ended war, disease and poverty on their planet and were now a peace loving species wanting only to explore the wonders of space. To meet new and exotic races and form friendships that would span galaxies. How naive that all seemed now. As if alien cultures would be like their own. Or have outgrown the need for aggression and domination that had once flawed the human race.

The alien had told him he was going to die. Soon. Why the delay if it was inevitable? What was he waiting for? He felt unsettled by their last conversation. The nurse returned to him, her stocky form as stiff as her conversation. The closed off look she gave him would have been the envy of any Vulcan.

"Guten morgen, mochten sie etwas essen?"

He shook his head while trying to dredge up any of the small smattering of German he had picked up on various holidays when he was a kid. He stumbled, having to repeat and try again until he got his meaning across. "Ich verstehe kein deutsch."

"Englanderin?"

"English," He nodded. "I speak English."

She blinked, seemed to take a moment either to take in his meaning or come to a decision. He was not sure which until she spoke, her voice low and throaty as if she had either been a long time smoker or had lived for too long in bad air. "English. American?"

He nodded, pleased she could at least communicate in his own tongue a little. Even more surprised that in an enemy camp she would try. "Yes. Where am I?"

"Deutschland."

"I was hoping for something more specific."

The sentence completely confused her. Okay. So that was too much. Keep things simple, Jon. Another thought occurred to him as he recalled the alien's smug warning.

"Are there others like me here?"

She frowned. "Bitte?"

He pointed to himself. "Like me? Americans?"

He could almost see enlightenment dawn on her austere face. "Nein."

Her accompanying headshake made his spirits sink to a new low.

"Mochten sie etwas essen?" She repeated. Then made a gesture to her mouth and stumbled over an approximation in English. "Eat. You?"

"Do I want something to eat?"

She nodded. He was about to refuse then thought about how weak he was feeling. Of course. Lack of nourishment. If he was going to stand any chance of getting out of here he would need all his strength. He gifted her with a truly radiant smile and dredged up one of the few German words he could still remember. "Danke."

* * * * *

"There is a ship on our sensors."

Shran's head came up abruptly, his brief sojourn in depression piqued by the news. His antenna twitched, hearing and sensing the air with the accuracy of radar. "Show me."

As he stood Lt Tara brought the craft up on their screen. Shran watched as the image was enlarged until they could identify the distinctive hull configuration. He could hear the quiet intense curse from his second in command. "Humans!"

How she managed to convey so much distaste and disgust into one little word was beyond him but it did not matter. Somehow Shran was not surprised. That they had somehow been thrown out of their own time into this Earth-driven one was now starting to make a kind of twisted sense. The pink skins it seemed were the key. But the key to what? "Bring us closer."

Lt Tara glared at him. "We should open fire."

"To what purpose? We do not know how to get back to our own time."

"And you expect the pink skins to help us?"

He glared back at her. As used to her continual testing of his authority as he was his patience often faltered. Yet he respected her strength and her instincts even when he did not agree with her. Andorians did not respect those who were placid, quiet, accommodating. Expecting always some kind of trickery or sleight of hand. When a warrior of any race faced another warrior there were at least the unspoken rules of combat. "They owe us!"

She turned her whole body to face him now, the two senior officers glaring at each other. He was not intimidated by her height and she was not cowed by his rank. They were an acceptable match. "Our mistake was not to kill them when we had the chance."

"Hail them, lieutenant, then we shall see."

Lt Tara looked at him for a moment, her eyes searching his for understanding. Something she would never openly ask of him. Whatever she saw convinced her to turn back to her console and snap out his order. A com channel was opened.

* * * * *

Ensign Hoshi Sato put a hand to her ear, surprised and stunned by the unexpected communication. "We are being hailed - by an Andorian ship!"

Travis looked alarmed. T'Pol nodded to Rostov and an image came on the screen. "This is the starship Enterprise..."

She was cut off before she could finish speaking. "Where is Archer?"

Everyone bristled at the lack of respect. T'Pol stiffened. "Captain Archer is on the planet surface."

"What did he do?"

T'Pol looked nonplussed. "Do?"

A snappy waspish tone seeped into the Andorian's voice. "We have been taken out of our time and we know you are responsible. You will correct this immediately!"

"Commander Shran, I can assure you...."

"Assurances mean nothing, Vulcan. They are merely words. Tell Captain Archer he is in my debt. It is time that debt was repaid!"

The connection was abruptly cut off. Commander Shran it seemed did not want to talk.

"It never rains but it pours." Murmured Travis.

On the suddenly quiet bridge every pair of ears heard him.

* * * * *

It was eerie how quiet it was. Corporal Mayo was naturally light on his feet, his sharp eyes not only able to pick out and process the tiniest pieces of visual information but also perceptive in more philosophical ways. His Mexican heritage had left him with a deep sense of soul and the interconnectedness of all things. He was not a religious man but he did believe in a higher power. That higher power now seemed to be tapping him on his shoulder. He paused and the others stopped in their tracks waiting for him to either tell them it was clear to continue or advise some other route. They communicated with hand signals. Trip longed to ask what was wrong but saw the sense in discretion being the better part of valor.

Corporal Raol Mayo turned slowly, making no more noise than an insect. It was kind of creepy Trip thought but an admirable skill. The Corporal exchanged a look with his counterpart and gave Lt Reed a respectful nod indicating they should back track and find another way. Malcolm nodded and turned back the way they had come. Commander Tucker felt frustrated, wished they could just say to hell with whoever or whatever was out here and storm through any obstacle. Inside he was fearful for his friend and Captain. Wondering what condition he was in and whether or not those old stories about torture and prisoner of war camps were true. He just hoped none of them would find out first hand. He was only too aware that the Captain's subcutaneous transponder would continue to work even if he was killed. The signal would not go off-line until the body itself disintegrated. It was not a pleasant thought but Malcolm had assured him the signal was still strong and that gave him a modicum of comfort. What was life without hope anyway?

* * * * *

The meal was surprisingly good. The Captain had intended to eat sparingly but the sausage was so delicious he cleared his plate and smacked his lips. Trying to spin it out to last in between bites of a very heavy kind of bread. He was not so keen on the pallid squishy mess next to it which his host had called sauerkraut. Never had a food source so mirrored its name. The solemn nurse gave him an almost-smile when he devoured the sausages. "Bratwurst." She informed.

Captain Archer repeated the word slowly. "Brat-wurst?"

A nod. Another almost-smile then a finger wagged at him and pointed to the sauerkraut. He shook his head and patted his belly, pretending he was full. He could see she did not believe him but instead of pressing him she gave a disinterested shrug and took back the plate.

* * * * *

They had only gone a few yards when Lt Reed held up a hand. Trip was about to ask what was wrong when they all heard the distinct movement of a large body of people coming towards their location. Quickly they moved off to the right only to find themselves suddenly surrounded. Seeing the rifles aimed at their heads the Commander did not need the universal translator to tell him what they said. Raising his hands in the air he silently cursed their luck and prayed they would be able to find a way out in time to grab the Captain and make it back to Enterprise in one piece. Once divested of their weapons they were herded roughly in the direction they had originally been going. The MACOs took their capture even harder than Malcolm or Trip. As if it were a personal insult. Glumly Trip realised the chance of escape was looking less and less likely as more German troops poured out of the forest around them. It seemed their captors were taking no chances.

* * * * *

GERMAN PHRASES:

"Guten morgan, mochten sie etwas essen?" = Good morning, would you like something to eat?"
"Ich verstehe kein deutsch" = I speak no German
"Englanderin" = English
"Deutschland" = Germany
"Bitte" = please/pardon
"Nein" = no

Part 4

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Three people have made comments

Oh, I love the T/T-moments!! But where are you leading us? Suspense, suspense! And you are one of the *very* few with perfect German.((((Ali)))) Only one tiny little mistake: Engländerin = female, Engländer = male.

I´m looking forward to the next part!

God help those Germans against T'pol's wrath when she finds out they've captured Trip!

Its getting very exciting.

I agree with narrxun! If T'Pol's commander is hurt, better watch out! Great job, Ali! I'm really enjoying this! Thanks!