Time After Time-Pt. 4

Time After Time

PART FOUR: Chapters 13-16

By Aeryn Alexander

If you're lost you can look and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you I'll be waiting
Time after time~ Cyndi Lauper

Chapter Thirteen

Options

In engineering Commander Tucker leaned over a computer console, studying the schematics of the Enterprise NX-01 as though for the first time. He was impressed with the ship, her design and her systems especially, not to mention the engine, which was a real beauty. The ship had ceased shaking the moment they left the ion storm, but he was no closer to remedying the situation on the bridge. A pair of crewman sent to force the lift open had discovered that not only was it locked down, it was also experiencing mechanical failure due to some fused circuits and a burned out relay. Another way in was required, but looking at the specs, Trip wasn’t sure such a thing existed, or if it did, that he could find it before time ran out for the five trapped officers.
Grabbing the nearest technician he saw, Tucker pointed toward the schematic displayed on the computer and asked, "Are there any access tunnels leading to the bridge?"
The engineer, possibly the least experienced in the section that night, looked at the chief engineer oddly and told him, "No, sir, the tunnels are all on this level and the deck below us. They run laterally."
"So there aren’t any tubes leading up and down from here?"
"A few ventilation shafts."
"Great." said Trip with a quick nod. "Point one out for me, would you?" he requested. The crewman pointed to a narrow duct that ran vertically from a corridor near engineering to the bridge. "That ought to do, I guess. Do you know if it’s sealed, crewman?" he questioned, studying the diagram.
"Yes, sir, it was sealed when a loss of pressure was detected."
"Can it be unsealed?"
"Manually, from the inside, sir." the crewman informed Tucker. "But how are you going to get up there?" he questioned.
"I reckon I’m going to climb." said Trip.
"But ... this shaft wasn’t designed ... I mean, there isn’t any ladder, commander." said the technician, frowning.
Tucker ran his hands through his hair. If it wasn’t one thing, then it was another.
"About how long would it take you to install one?" questioned Commander Tucker, fixing the young crewman with a serious, piercing stare.
"Several hours, sir. I don’t know how long really." he stammered.
"Well, you know how long we’ve got. Get you some help and start on that right away. And keep me posted." he said.
"Yes, sir." said the crewman, trying to hide a grin that was threatening to spread across his features in spite of the gravity of the situation. Commander Tucker had never given him a task so important. Maybe the chief saw something special in him. Or so the crewman supposed. "I won’t let you down, sir." he promised as he walked away.
"I hope not, but I won’t be holding my breath either." muttered Trip to himself as he walked over to discuss repairing the lift with the two crewmen who had originally attempted to override the lock down. He wanted all possible options to be explored.

**************

Chapter Fourteen

Panic

Captain Archer glanced at his bridge officers as he quietly shifted in his chair. He had pondered their situation for the better part of an hour and a half as the air of the room became heavier. Was he right to put Trip in charge of their rescue, given his present condition? Archer had almost limitless faith in his friend, but was the loss of his memory, and possibly the loss of his expertise, too much of a handicap? He could not recall a time when Trip had truly let him down. Anyone would have to admit that Commander Tucker was an excellent problem-solver with a splendid track record.

“Captain?” questioned Crewman Monroe in a quavering voice, raising his head from his arms. He was still sitting rather dejectedly in a corner near the communications station.

“Crewman.” acknowledged Archer, almost grateful that the imposed silence was broken.

“How are we going to get out of here, sir?” asked the crewman. His voice contained a note of shrill desperation, despite his earlier apparent stoicism, which had probably been closer in description to a panic induced catatonia.

“Don’t worry. Commander Tucker is on the problem. It shouldn’t be long now.” Archer reassured him with a smile.

“But you don’t know that. He could be just as helpless and clueless as we are.” said Monroe, clambering unsteadily to his feet. “Why don’t we do something, captain? I mean, we can’t just wait until our air runs out and die in here!” he yelled.

“That is enough, crewman.” stated T’Pol firmly before Archer could respond. “I suggest that you learn some self-control. Panicking will profit you nothing.” she told him, rising gracefully from her seat on the deck.

The crewman strode toward her, intent upon giving the self-righteous and smug sub-commander a piece of his mind, but he never had the chance. The patience of Vulcans while ample was not infinite, and the patience of T’Pol was stretched beyond its limit. Her hand shot out with startling speed as she seized his neck in a pinching motion and squeezed. Monroe’s eyes rolled back and he collapsed into a boneless heap on the floor.

“T’Pol?” questioned Archer.

The scene had caused Malcolm to lean around the tactical station to get a better look. He was most impressed, but he had one question for the obviously talented Vulcan.

“Is he dead?” inquired Reed.

“Of course not, lieutenant. He is merely temporarily unconscious. He was wasting our limit supply of oxygen with his hysterics.” T’Pol informed him coolly, straightening her uniform and returning to her seat as though nothing had happened.

“You know, sub-commander, you could have tried slapping him first. That usually works too.” suggested Archer.

“The nerve pinch is an ancient Vulcan technique. It is both safe and effective. Slapping, as you have suggested, seems to be an inferior remedy in such a situation.” she explained.

“You’ll have to teach me that trick sometime.” suggested Reed hopefully. Hoshi, who still clutched his hand, just rolled her eyes.

“No.” answered T’Pol evenly.

*************

Chapter Fifteen

The Need for Haste

Commander Tucker, after inspecting the lift for himself, was forced to admit that getting it to work again and overriding the lock down of the bridge in less than three hours was hopeless. The mechanical failure due to the damage caused by the ion storm was too severe to be remedied in the amount of time given. In fact, he estimated that his people couldn’t get the lift operating for at least eight hours without a significant miracle. Trip didn’t have anything against miracles. He simply doubted that he could work one himself.

With that said and done, Trip found his way to the ventilation shaft where he second team was working to build a ladder to the bridge. Two technicians were fashioning rough ladder rungs and an additional crewman was beginning to fastened them to the interior of the shaft. Trip glanced at their work and nodded approvingly.

“Looking good.” he commented. “Can you give me any estimate as to when you’ll be done?”

The crewman he had put in charge glanced at the five rungs already attached and said, “Maybe two and a half hours.”

“That’s pushing it awfully close. They’ve got about three hours of air if the instruments are correct. I would hate to have the captain brain damaged from oxygen deprivation on the account of a few minutes of miscalculation. Can you hurry it up, crewman?” asked Tucker, deadly seriously.

“Yes, sir.” he stammered, eyes widening the commander’s bluntly spoken words. “If you can send two more people in here, maybe we could get an assembly line going, sir.” he suggested.

“That’s the spirit, crewman ...” Tucker said, leaving the end of the statement open in hopes that the engineer would supply his name.

“Crewman second class Marcus Jefferies, sir.” he filled in, trying not to let the disappointment show.

“I’ll round up a couple of more technicians for this job. You keep at it, Jefferies.” ordered Tucker, ducking out of the confining ventilation tube.

“I thought you had worked with him on Titan, Marc. He didn’t even know your name.” said one of the other engineers.

“I was positive that he remembered me.” said Crewman Jefferies, scratching his head and getting back to work. “I guess he doesn’t think I’m anything special after all.” he thought with some sadness and frustration. The only thing left to do was prove the commander wrong and do the job right.

**************

Chapter Sixteen

The Cadet and the Commander

While restlessness was not an emotion, but rather a physiological response to an imbalance if energy and the expenditure of that energy, it was not a feeling that Sub-commander T’Pol enjoyed. Seated on the cold deck of the bridge made her very restless, especially as her thoughts drifted, much against her will, toward the events the concerned Commander Tucker and herself during their three days lost in the past. Part of her felt uneasy as she thought of Trip, but another part, smaller perhaps, would have been pleased to see him, not only because of the situation on the bridge, but also because she felt a peculiar fondness for the man. Of course, she would not have acknowledged that slight affection to him as she scarcely recognized it herself.

“T’Pol, you look like you have something on your mind.” commented Archer as he watched her furrow her brow in thought.

“I was thinking about Commander Tucker.” she told him coolly.

“Oh?” questioned the captain mildly surprised. He expected the latest calculation of the air supply remaining to them.

“Why does he show such resistance to being called by the rank of commander?” she inquired as it became obvious the he expected her to continue speaking.

“Do we have enough oxygen left for a long story, sub-commander?” he asked, chuckling.

“That is uncertain, captain.” she replied.

“I suppose I’ll risk it.” said Archer, resisting the urge to take a deep breath.

“Very well.”

The captain leaned back in his chair and told her, “Trip had some trouble with a commander when he was a cadet. He was aboard a training vessel under the authority of a Commander Alexander Takayama. Trip was acting as first officer of the ship while a younger cadet was appointed to the position of chief engineer. The training mission went very well by all accounts, but when they returned to earth and prepared to disembark, they encountered a problem. In those days shuttle bays were seldom kept pressurized because of the enormous power drain of a warp two engine on all systems.

“It so happened that when they were preparing to board the shuttlepods to return to the Academy, Trip had this suspicion that the launch bay had not been pressurized. Commander Takayama sent someone to check the gauge, but it indicated that the bay checked out for launch. So everyone, twenty-five cadets and the commanding officer, was standing in the airlock, ready to get on a pod and go home, and Trip continued to disagree. He had been a reliable and conscientious first officer up until this point, but for whatever reason, Takayama had a stick up his butt and wouldn’t listen.” narrated Archer.

“A stick, captain?” interrupted T’Pol.

“It’s an expression.” sighed Archer before he continued. “Well, Trip put himself between the commander and the hatch to the launch bay and demanded that everyone clear the airlock and they test whether it was pressurized or not. By all accounts Takayama insisted that he would not be questioned like that onboard his vessel, training ship that it might have been, and attempted to push past Cadet Tucker. In response, Trip knocked him cold and evacuated the airlock himself. This, naturally, led to a disciplinary hearing.” Archer explained.

“I imagine so.” agreed T’Pol. “Was the launch bay pressurized or not?”

“No, as it turns out, the gauge was faulty. Trip simply had very good instincts. He saved the entire crew of the training ship Kennedy from being blown out into space. Now, because he struck his commanding officer, he never received a commendation for his actions, but all charges were waived during the hearing.” he answered.

“And Commander Takayama?”

“He still has command of the Kennedy, but he never apologized to Trip or recognized his error in any way. That sort of stuck in Trip’s craw. And why wouldn’t it? The man was a jack ass.” shrugged Archer.

“Indeed.” she agreed, raising an eyebrow. It seemed that Commander Tucker had always been bold and rather unpredictable, but sometimes with good results.

Continue to Part 5 - The End

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