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Beta Waves - Pt 3

Author - Aquila
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Beta Waves

By Aquila

Rating: PG – 13
Category: Angst, Romance
Disclaimer: All things Trek are Paramount’s. The errors are mine.
Summary: Cornered by the enemy, alone and abandoned, Trip fights for his life and the future. Sequel to Theta Waves. There be spoilers.

==

Part 3


Sweat absorbed by his clothing made a damp vee on his back. The zipper of his uniform was pulled low and the buttons of his black undershirt were undone. Sweat trickled from his temples and his hair was in disarray.

He placed his right shoulder against the man-size boulder for the fifteenth time. He bent at the knees to harness the power in his thighs and heaved. The boulder moved a few more millimetres. He turned, curving his spine along the surface of the boulder, his chest heaving from the exertion. When his blood was sufficiently oxygenated, once again he put his shoulder to work. This time, the boulder teetered on the edge.

Carefully he moved to the mesa edge, poking his head over to confirm that the enemy still lurked below. He had laid a trail to lure them into position. He smiled mirthlessly. The three insects were gathered around the campfire he had laid, chittering and chattering in what he took to be their native tongue.

To avoid drawing their attention, he slowly backed away from the edge. Putting his shoulder to the boulder for the seventeenth time he pushed. He fell flat on his stomach with an oof, when the rock rolled out from under him. Exhausted, he counted the seconds: three, two one. Only when he heard the satisfying sound of panicked shouts and an earthy thud followed by silence did he roll over in preparation for standing. His heart stopped. A distinctly female silhouette, hands on hips, legs splayed, stood over him.

==

A human observer from space might have drawn the analogy of a cat playing with a mouse. Enterprise was the cat and the much smaller Xindi transport vessel was the mouse. The transport dangled at the end of Enterprise’s grappling hooks, powerless.

“Hail the ship,” Archer barked at Hoshi. “When the captain is distracted begin the download.”

Hoshi nodded. The face of a sloth like creature materialized on the view screen before them.

“Captain Daningo, have you reconsidered my offer?” The polite words did nothing to obscure the threat behind them.

==

“It is a little early for our neuro-pressure session, isn’t it?”

Still unable to see her face, he watched her body language for clues to her disposition.

“You missed yesterday’s session,” she deadpanned, “I did not want to be responsible for your ill-humour should you miss today’s.” She held out her hand. “I see I was too late.”

He placed his hand in hers, where it rested for unnecessary seconds. “You think that I squished those insects because I was feeling out of sorts due to an absence of your touch?”

She pulled him upright, releasing his hand when he was steady on his feet. Once free, he began to brush the twigs and dirt from his uniform.

“Let me assist you,” she offered, moving around to his rear. He jumped. The touch of her hands had been considerably more intimate than warranted by the occasion. “You are very tense. It appears that I have arrived just in time.”

He whirled around to face her, “Where is the rest of the away team?” He looked over his shoulder for additional personnel.

“There are no others.”

Trip considered her answer. “They’re just waiting for the OK from you, are they? Then why don’t you tell them to get their butts down here. Even decon is looking good right about now.” His stomach growled loudly.

“Enterprise is not in orbit. If it had been communication would have been impossible. The planet’s atmosphere interferes with scans and communication.” She gestured for him to follow as she moved away from the edge of the mesa. “The shuttlepod is in this direction.”

Trip shook his weary head. Her statements were precise and informative as always, yet he felt as if the message became garbled when it entered his brain. He stopped dead in his tracks.

“Am I hallucinatin?”

T’Pol halted, turned then walked to his side. The gaze that she gave him heated his blood. When she had his attention she pinched his ass. He jumped, shouting in surprise.

“Son of a bitch, T’Pol.”

“You are not hallucinating,” she said heading in the same direction she had before she settled the question of his hallucination.

Muttering to himself about taking liberties and that she treated him like a prize bull at a fall fair, he trudged after his rescuer.

==

“Did you get it?”

The bridge crew held its collective breath.

Hoshi smiled, “Yes sir, all of it.”

The bridge erupted in cheers.

She doused the enthusiasm with, “I think that might be the last time we can steal a download. The Xindi will be better prepared for us next time.”

“Granted,” agreed Archer, “Which is the reason that it was imperative that we made this attempt. I’ll be in the situation room analyzing the data. Travis, it is time we collected Trip. Malcolm, you have command.”

==

The shuttlepod sat in a secluded glade beside a bubbling brook. By the time they had reached the landing zone, the sun hung above the tree line. Trip knelt by the water’s edge to douse his head with water. He used his hands as a drinking container. T’Pol silently watched him slake his thirst. When he had had his fill he turned to look at her.

“What now?” To his ears his question sounded ill-tempered. Did she notice, he wondered?

“I will retrieve rations from the pod,” she replied calmly. “Perhaps you can heat some water over a fire?”

He began to gather small rocks, which he piled between the shuttlepod and the brook. With the phase pistol T’Pol had tossed to him before retrieving the rations, he heated the rocks to a ruby a red glow. Over the rocks he erected a tripod of native twigs. He hung a pail of water from the contraption. While the water heated, he dragged a fallen log into position. He sat with his hands outstretched toward the heat. Only then did he notice that every muscle in his body ached from over exertion.

“Since there is only one container for water, I have chosen tofu chilli for our meal,” T’Pol announced on her return. She ripped open the packet, dumping its contents into the pot.

“What I wouldn’t give for a plate of hot cornbread to go with it,” sighed Trip.

“Would bannock suffice?” T’Pol waited.

The Commander raised his head, too tired for surprise to register on his face. “You know bannock?” The next thought hit him like a thunderbolt. “You brought the ingredients?”

T’Pol sat so close beside him on the log that their thighs touched. “Anticipating that our stay might be somewhat prolonged, I asked Chef for suggestions. He explained that bannock was appropriate when – the expression he used was – roughing it.”

“God bless him.” Trip threw an arm around T’Pol and squeezed. She relaxed into his embrace, which was so unexpected that he let go of her as if she were one of the heated rocks.

==

“Reed to Captain Archer.”

The Captain pressed a button the console. “Yes, Malcolm?”

“Our scans have detected a Starfleet issued communications buoy ahead.”

Still scrolling through the data on his screen, he ordered the lieutenant to retrieve the device.

==

He was secretly relieved when she had refused his offer of help to prepare for the night. His body had grown increasingly stiff and sore. Contributing to his lethargy were a full stomach and heat from the fire that made him drowsy.

Through half-closed eyelids he watched the economical yet graceful movements of his companion. The glow of the rocks gave a rosy hue to her cheeks. Her brown hair came alive with auburn highlights. He enjoyed her companionable silence, which he considered odd for one as gregarious as he.

She gathered their utensils, the chilli pot and dirty dishes. With a nod to his half sleeping form, she walked to the brook, disappearing from his sight. Her absence triggered a feeling of loss, which exploded into full blown grief. When she returned she found him inconsolably weeping silent tears. She set her burden on the ground, hanging the refilled water container over the molten rock and went to his side.

It was her turn to place an arm around his shoulders. She drew him to her. His head rested on her chest. She rocked him back and forth, crooning a comforting tune in Vulcan. Eventually she felt his arms creep about her waist. They sat entwined until he was spent.

==

“The message is from T’Pol, sir.” Reed reported over the intercom. “She suggests that we hold position at these coordinates. She will rendezvous with us in twenty-four hours.”

“Very good, Malcolm,” Archer sighed. “Let’s use this time to make repairs.”

“Yes, sir.”

End of Part Three



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Two folks have made comments

i really like ur story....cant wait for more!

Loved this! Methinks T'Pol's instructions for Enterprise to hold their position for 24 hours was to give her some *quality time* with Trip. Good girl, let's hope she uses those minutes and hours wisely... Great story. Ali D :~)