Time After Time-Pt. 5 (end)

Time After Time

PART Five: Chapters 17-20 (Conclusion)

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 Seventeen

Preparations Made

Trip looked up the ventilation shaft at the rungs, which reached a junction on C deck more than a deck and a half away from where the vent opened on the bridge. It was a long way to go in approximately an hour and forty minutes. Tucker moved out of the way as a pair of crewman stepped into the shaft with their arms full of freshly made rungs. Crewman Jefferies nodded as he started up the ladder with the other crewman to hand off the additional rungs to the team that was attaching them. It was the best system that they had managed to devise. Would it be efficient enough to reach the bridge in time? Trip was having some doubts, as were many of his technicians, especially those in the shaft whose eyes drifted upward to the decks above them, and it made them redouble their efforts.
Commander Tucker walked into main engineering and grabbed the nearest unoccupied crewman.
"I think we will be needing a doctor soon. I want to have Phlox on hand when we get up there, if it’s at all possible." he told her.
"The lift is still down, commander, but it is possible to reach engineering from sickbay through the lateral access crawlways." she informed him.
"If this weren’t such a bad situation, I would never ask him to climb through those things, but having medical personnel here just seems like good sense." said Trip, shaking his head and walking toward the more secluded comm panel for a second time.
"If I didn’t know better, I would say the chief was going to have a nervous breakdown before this is over with." said the crewman quietly as she returned to her duty station.
Tucker stood at the panel for a couple of minutes before switching the device on and speaking, "Trip to Phlox, can I have a word with you, doc?"
"Of course. I am always at your disposal." said the Denobulan cheerily.
"How’s the casualty count doing?" inquired Commander Tucker heavily.
"All injured crewmen have returned to quarters with the exclusion of those who cannot reach them, such as a few ensigns billeted in the JOQ. Ensign Mayweather is still hanging around, if you want to know." Phlox reported.
Tucker frowned and wonder momentarily why he would want to know, but shook his head and asked, "Then can you come to engineering? I want to have you on hand if you get my meaning."
"I take it that you mean when you find away to free Captain Archer, T’Pol, and the others."
"Yes."
"By you estimation when will that be?"
"If it isn’t in the next hour and a half, then I’m afraid it might as well be never." said Tucker, closing his eyes and rubbing his forehead. It felt awful just to say the words. How bad would it be if his doubts were proven true?
"I understand, commander. Rest assured that I will be there within the hour with a medical team."
"I’m sorry, doc, but all of you will have to come through the access tunnels to get here."
"I expected as much, commander. Just send someone to show us the way. It won’t be there first time I have climbed through something of that nature." said the doctor, not at all bothered.
"Thank you, Phlox. You’ll have to tell me all about that sometime. I’m be glad to hear it." said Trip. He had not doubted that the good doctor would come. He just believed that sending the chief medical officer of a ship through its underpinnings was an inconvenience and possibly something of an insult.
"Really? Are you certain? No one ever wants to hear my old medical stories. Are you feeling all right, sir?" asked the Denobulan in surprise.
Tucker had the sudden suspicion that the doctor could be unusually verbose, if not downright boring at times. It was an uncanny feeling not unlike déjà vu. He simply knew it.
Trip cleared his throat and said, "Well, I guess I’ll get back to you on that, doc."
"Of course, Commander Tucker." Phlox chuckled.

*********

Chapter Eighteen

Waking Reality

At first Captain Archer believed that he had only nodded off for a few minutes. The bridge was very quiet with only the melodious thrum of the impulse engines for background noise. As he lifted his chin, which had rested on his chest as he slept, he realized that his head felt as thought it were floating above his shoulders. It was a disconcerting feeling to say the least. Then he noticed someone standing in front of him.

“Are you all right, captain?” T’Pol asked him apparently for the second or possibly third time. His fingertips tingled as she lifted his hand to check his pulse.

“I was just resting my eyes. I’m fine.” Archer insisted lethargically. Then it dawned on him. “Did I pass out, sub-commander?” he asked, realizing that all was not right with the world nor with him. Even the air in the room was wrong somehow, stale and difficult to breathe in.

“I am afraid so, sir. Reed and Sato have lost consciousness as well.” she informed him calmly. Her composure never ceased to both amaze and annoy him.

“What about you?”

“The air of Vulcan is substantially thinner than that of earth. I am ... holding my own.” she informed him, releasing his wrist only after determining that his pulse was more rapid than was normal. “But you are certainly not.” T’Pol added.

“Should I make a final log, sub-commander?” the captain asked her.

“The computer is still not responding. I am afraid that you cannot.” she informed him, loosening the collar of his uniform.

“What about you?”

“Me, sir?” she questioned, aware that he was somewhat confused or borderline delirious from the oxygen deprivation.

“Having any regrets, T’Pol? About this mission? Being here?”

“I regret ... I regret only that we will die in this manner. Any other regrets would not be logical.”

“All the same ...”

“It would have been pleasant to speak to Trip one more time. I wanted ... I believe I wanted to tell him about the memories Phlox recovered.” she admitted, lowering her eyes to the deck, which had grown too cold to sit upon.

Captain Archer smiled a little and said, “Depending on how long you can hold out, maybe you will.” Then his heavy eyelids slowly drooped and his breathing grew more shallow.

T’Pol turned away from him and clasped her hands behind back as she surveyed the bridge. It felt like a tomb, a sepulcher of cold gray metal that was built for five. She shuddered involuntarily and rubbed her arms to keep them warm. Looking at where Malcolm and Hoshi reclined close together behind the tactical station, she at least acknowledged they were not cold, or not so cold nor so alone as she felt.

“It won’t be long now until I am unconscious too.” she thought.

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

Chapter Nineteen

The Reward of Their Labors

Commander Tucker was talking about time, volume, and oxygen intake with Doctor Phlox when Crewman Jefferies jogged across main engineering to give him some good news, and Trip certainly looked as though he could use some. The instruments told him that time was nearly up for the bridge crew.

“Commander, we are just installing the last two rungs now. Do you want to open the hatch, sir, when that’s done? It should be any minute now.” Jefferies informed him.

“Sure.” he answered, nodding to Phlox as he quickly followed the young technician. “I’ll probably need some help evacuating the bridge, Jefferies. I know you’ve been giving it your all with that ladder, but are you and the rest of the technicians still up for the task or should I have the medical team come in too?” he questioned.

“Just say the word, sir, and we can have them out in a jiffy.” said the crewman, his chest swelling with pride.

“Then follow me on up and remember that we’re still on a time table.” Trip informed him as he started up the ladder.

As he pulled himself up hand over hand through the ventilation shaft, he took every opportunity to steal himself against the possibly that his friend and commanding officer, not to mention Sub-commander T’Pol, could be dead or beyond help already. The hatch of the ventilation shaft was secured tightly, but his hands seemed to know just what to do to open the thing. It was heavy as he heaved it upward, and at first he wasn’t sure if he would be able to move it without help from Jefferies or another engineer. But then it seemed to lift itself and move out of his way.

“I thought you would never come.” said a faint, but husky voice from the shadows of the bridge. The hatch made a scraping sound as it was moved farther out of his way.

“T’Pol, is that you?” questioned Trip, clambering hastily up the remaining rungs, which were still warm to the touch.

She looked pale to him and very unsteady on her feet. He reached for her, afraid that she might collapse any minute. The air, he could tell, was thin and mostly composed of carbon dioxide. They had come very close to suffocation.

T’Pol permit him to hold her in his arms rather gingerly as both groped for the appropriate words to saw. Looking into her eyes, Trip could see that she was having difficulty focusing.

“You came.” she stated as she too looked into his beautiful blue eyes, which were threatening to well with tears.

“Of course I did. Now I have to get all of you out of here.” he told her firmly, but gently too.

“The others. Their condition is bad, much worse than mine. They must be evacuated first.” she said, becoming slightly more clear-headed and logical again.

Commander Tucker, from his position standing by the duct, clapped eyes on Malcolm Reed and Hoshi Sato first. They looked like a pair of turtledoves in winter. Even though he didn’t recognize them, his heart both warmed and ached to see the two of them. Her head fit perfectly against his shoulder, and despite their pallor they both looked at peace and as though they belonged together.

Then he glimpsed Crewman Monroe who had never truly regained consciousness after the nerve pinch. Tucker’s eyes did not linger there long.

“Jon.” he breathed, coughing in the thick air as his eyes rested on the noble figure of Captain Archer, still seated in his chair as though it were a part of him or he of it.

“Sir?” called Jefferies from the opening in the floor. “Can we begin moving them out?”

“Yes, yes, please, do.” said Trip hastily. His arm tightened instinctively, protectively around T’Pol’s waist as they both stepped toward the captain.

“He is all right, or rather, he will be with proper treatment.” she assured him sleepily. With rescue in sight the last of her mental discipline was beginning to fail her.

“Of course.” whispered Trip, deferring to her judgment.

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

Chapter Twenty

And it Happens Again

Moving the four unconscious officer from the bridge on A deck to engineering, a full four decks below them, was a challenge to say the least, but T’Pol would not consider leaving until Hoshi, Malcolm, Crewman Monroe, and Jonathan Archer were all safely evacuated from the bridge, which was only slowly becoming a hospitable environment again.

“I would not wish to ...” T’Pol began to explain to Trip.

“I know. I don’t think I could either.” he told her with an understanding smile that touched both his lips and his eyes. He glanced down the shaft and asked, “You ready to go now?”

“After you.” she agreed, allowing him to help her into the shaft.

Commander Tucker was very careful as he guided her down the ladder. Every rung was a struggle for her, but no one could have been more dutiful or courteous as the commander.

Then she missing a rung or grew suddenly light-headed just past the C deck junction. Tucker wasn’t exactly sure which as he caught her and steadied her, sacrificing his own grip and balance in the process. Before he knew what was happening, Trip found himself pitching backward and his feet slipping from the rung where he stood. He thought he heard someone cry out as he crashed first against the back wall of the tube and then face first into the ladder. A rung caught him under the chin, and the world went out like a light.

A dull buzzing in his ears slowly drew him back to consciousness as though from far away. Commander Tucker felt very disoriented and numb as though he were nothing more than a disembodied mind. Then he began to hear sounds, voices, and feel a slight tingling in his fingers and toes.

“You don’t have to stay here, T’Pol. Phlox will alert you ... will alert both of us, if his condition changes.” he heard a familiar voice saying. The tones were commanding, but not without certain strains of worry and compassion. The voice was that of a very tired man.

“It’s Captain Archer.” he realized, feeling a sense of calm wash over him.

“I feel that I should, captain.” said an unemotional, but forceful feminine voice that made his heart skip a beat.

“Because he was so heroic when he fell down that shaft?”

“There is nothing heroic about falling from a ladder. If heroism is to be attributed to his actions, and perhaps it should be, Trip should be recognized rather for catching me or more importantly for commanding the ship in considerably unfavorable circumstances, not merely for an unfortunate fall.” she said with an edge to her voice. It could be no one else but Sub-commander T’Pol, and taking his part for a change.

“Maybe you’re right.” chuckled Archer before sighing aloud.

“Of course.”

Heavy footfalls retreated from the place where Trip Tucker lay in a questionable state of consciousness. Warm fingertips brushed lightly and gently through his hair. That was enough to give him reason to force his heavy eyelids open.

“T’Pol?” he mumbled as she swiftly drew her hand back. “Don’t look at me like I caught you with your hand in the cookie jar.” he scolded semi-coherently. She looked bleary at first, but slowly came into focus, and she seemed to be scowling at him.

“The amount of concern that you have caused has been considerable.” she noted.

“Aw, shucks, and I didn’t know you cared.”

An eyebrow shot up at that remark, but she did not bother to rebut the accusation. It was too close to the mark.

“Captain Archer was just here.” she informed him, deftly changing the subject.

“I’m not all that sure how much of the stuff going through my head is just dreams and how much is real.” he hesitated, following her lead and changing the subject himself.

“Do you recall an ion storm and having command of the ship for approximately four and a half hours?”

“I vaguely recollect that.” he affirmed.

“What about the procedure the Phlox performed to restore your memory?”

“Yeah, I remember that too.”

“Did the procedure work?” she inquired.

A smile spread slowly over Commander Tucker’s features and he said, “I seem to recall being kissed by a certain Vulcan science officer.” Raising himself up on his elbows he asked her, “Do you still think something like that might happen again?”

T’Pol leaned toward him and replied simply, “It is only logical, after all, Trip.”

The End

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Eight hardy souls have made comments

I absolutely loved this. Well written and nicely resolved with that beautiful little kiss at the end. One question. Is the Ensign Jefferies that Trip gets to make the escape ladder the one the tubes end up getting named after? Just a thought. Well done for an excellent story! Ali D :~)

Very, very nice work. With his memory gone, it was great to see how Trip was really an engineer at heart. It was also interesting to watch how he reacted to others, ncluding T'Pol. Overall, splendid work, thank you.

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