If you are seeing this paragraph, the site is not displaying correctly. You can see the content, but your current browser does not support CSS which is necessary to view our site properly. For the best visual experience, you will need to upgrade your browser to Netscape 6.0 or higher, MSIE 5.5 or higher, or Opera 3.6 or higher. If, however, you don't wish to upgrade your browser, scroll down and read the content - everything is still visible, it just doesn't look as pretty.
Get Us Out of Here - Ch 2Get Us Out of Here By Aquila Category: Don’t know until the story ends -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- Part 2
He had dashed into the Ready Room the moment Hoshi had reported that Trip and T’Pol were missing. He had found no sign of a struggle. The Captain’s station was dark. The pair had not triangulated the position of the transponder, before they disappeared. Reed, having confirmed that he was now captain of Enterprise, punched the buttons that began the process. He weighed the situation carefully. He had the resources to determine if Captain Archer had survived their assault on the Xindi weapon. He knew how to begin locating him, should he have survived. He did not know where to search for Trip and T’Pol. There was no sign of a struggle. No clues like a uniform button or a crumpled laundry ticket conveniently crumpled in the wastebasket. The decision to direct his limited resources toward finding Archer weighed heavily on his shoulders. Would the crew follow his lead? Reed opened a communication channel, “Attention, all hands, this is Lieutenant Reed. In accordance with Star Fleet regulations I am now in command. Captain T’Pol and Commander Tucker are missing in action. We are searching for clues to explain their disappearance and will keep you informed of any developments.” Reed closed the switch for a brief moment to steady himself. “While we were exploring space during our original mission, Starfleet developed a new system of emergency tracking. Captain Archer volunteered to participate in the beta testing. The system was intended to be used in only dire circumstances as it causes great discomfort.” Once again Malcolm closed the channel to take a deep breath. “Captain Archer’s emergency tracking beacon has been activated. I cannot confirm that he is alive, but there is reason to hope, therefore I have decided to direct our limited resources to uncovering the reason for the activation. Do not for one moment believe that I am abandoning the search for Commander Tucker and Sub-commander T’Pol. I believer, however, that if Captain Archer is alive, he is the key to finding them. Reed out.” -- “Do you believe in ghosts, T’Pol?” When T’Pol turned to gaze in the direction that her companion had indicated her ambivalence to time travel was quashed forever. “Mr. Daniels, I presume?” Trip smirked. He suspected that Stanley’s question to Livingstone could not have been delivered with more aplomb. The contempt that dripped from her tongue however was totally her own. To Trip it appeared as if they were standing in a forest glade, half way up a mountain. He could see in the distance beyond Daniels a valley that appeared to be covered in a morning mist, obscuring all but one geographic detail. A church spire pierced the blanket of mist. The muffled toll of a single bell floated up from the valley floor. Just as he decided to step forward and take a swing at Daniels chin, he felt T’Pol’s hand on his sleeve. The simple gesture replaced his self indulgent anger with a need to protect and support. Tucker moved closer to her side and began scanning the area for data to ensure their survival. He was not going to trust Daniels to protect them from whatever time travelling enemy they must face. T’Pol let her hand linger on his sleeve for a moment longer than necessary, taking comfort from the contact. The appearance of Daniels unsettled her more than she was prepared to admit. She did not merely restrain Tucker’s anger with that touch. She restored her own equilibrium, a revelation she had no time to ponder. Trip noted that the mountain range on the opposite side of the valley was silhouetted against a pink stained sky. Were they facing east or west? Until Daniels confirmed the name of the planet even that observation was without meaning. Perhaps this was an illusion – albeit an extraordinary one – the aroma of freshly tilled soil and spring flowers drifted on the breeze that shredded the mist below. “T’Pol of Vulcan,” Daniels head turned toward Trip, “Commander Tucker. You are not pleased to see me.” Trip opened his mouth to respond, but clamped his jaw shut when he felt T’Pol stroke the palm of his hand with her index finger. Tucker, he chided silently, she has you broke to the bridle. When did that happen? “Mr. Daniels,” T’Pol felt her throat constrict as she attempted to control the anger that was roiling within. “If you wish to escape this encounter unscathed, please skip the pleasantries. I am not sure how much longer I can protect you from the warranted wrath of Commander Tucker.” Ah, ha, continued Trip’s internal monologue. She’s playing good cop, bad cop. And I’m the bad cop. Make a move Daniels, just one, and I’ll show you just how bad a cop I can be. Seeing Tucker bristle visibly shook Daniels. Negotiating with this pair would be more difficult than with Archer, who had proved to be remarkably intransigent. The man from the future knew his previous actions had eroded his creditability. He doubted his ability to gain their trust and commitment to his plan. Yet, because he continued to believe that the crew of Enterprise was the key to peace, now and for generations to come, he pled his case. “You are right to be sceptical,” acknowledged their kidnapper, “I promised a peaceful future with the elimination of the Xindi threat. It has failed to materialize.” Daniels noted that Tucker’s eyes had glazed over. He moved on. “You have reshaped history, but there are others equally as determined to undo the good that you have done.” Trip stepped an arm’s length from T’Pol. He did not want her to silence him. “Another agent, like you, but representing the bad guys has countered your initiative.” Daniels shook his head in the affirmative. “Your temporal war is getting mighty old,” Trip barked, “You want us to do your dirty work for you again.” The interloper held his tongue. The engineer would not be prepared to listen until he had released his anger of that Daniels was certain. He turned to face T’Pol, whom he believed would be the voice of reason. She sandbagged both men with her uncharacteristic venom, “I have little reason to believe that any effort we make to change history now will result in a positive outcome in the future. You and those you represent failed to protect the legacy of peace that you inherited. Perhaps what should occur is a change in the future, in your own time?” -- Phlox, Hoshi and Reed had gathered in sick bay to examine the transponder readings. “The Captain must be in great pain,” observed Hoshi to no one in particular. “We can hope that his pain is tempered by the knowledge that we have a tool with which to rescue him,” comforted Phlox. Reed, ever doubtful, reminded the pair, “A tool that has never been field tested.” He regretted the comment the moment he made it. Cynicism and reason were appropriate for a tactical officer whose duty was to provide his captain with the best advice. They were not appropriate responses from a star ship captain. “I’m sorry,” Reed attempted to make amends, “Of course there is reason for hope.” Hoshi bolstered that thought, “I have fed the data into the tracking system. We have narrowed our search to the Presidio area.” “A public park,” asked the doctor incredulously? “It appears,” Hoshi explained, “That with the shift in the timeline the Presidio was returned to its original state – a military installation.” The knowledge restored Reed’s confidence. Tactics and strategy were his areas of expertise. “Bring up everything you have - diagrams, maps, military histories – that might give us some clue about the fortification’s weaknesses and strengths.” Hoshi’s fingers began to fly across the keypad. “Doctor,” Reed paused for a moment, “Conduct a bioscan of the Presidio area, please. I want to identify the sentient life forms. Note anomalies.” Action was a tonic for the trio. -- The mist in the valley below had thinned to reveal a long lake that reflected the snow capped mountains that surrounded it. A tree covered island floated in the middle of the lake. The sun had risen in the sky, turning the pink to gold then blue the colour of her lover’s eyes, an idle whimsy that startled T’Pol from her reverie. “You refuse to transport us into the future,” she recapped, “Yet you expect us to interfere in the past.” “This is the past? Isn’t it,” asked Tucker turning from the view at his feet. “Mid summer 1943,” confirmed Daniels. “What humanity refers to as the Second World War,” T’Pol reminded Tucker. “Where are we?” “Berchtesgaden.” “Son of a bitch.” The curse erupted, startling a flock of birds that swirled and darted into the morning sky. A hissed “Commander” from T’Pol brought him under control once more. “Neither of us speaks German,” Tucker reminded Daniels. “And if I remember my history correctly, folks around here didn’t tolerate differences.” He swept the back of his hand along T’Pol’s right ear, causing her to quiver momentarily. Irrationally Daniels felt he had intruded on an intimate moment between them. “In two days, a representative of an alien species will arrive to provide the enemy with details of Operation Overlord. You must stop him.” Daniels shimmered into nothingness, leaving behind nothing but a canvas rucksack. “Berchtesgaden?” T’Pol looked at Trip. “The nearest town to the summer home of one, Adolf Hitler. We might be able to see it from here. It is perched on a mountain ledge in the Austrian Alps.” Trip kicked the dirt at his feet. “Now I know why Daniel’s picked us for the job.” T’Pol picked up the rucksack and began to root through the contents. “We know why you were selected –blue eyes, blond hair, and your stature.” “Yeah,” Trip growled, “A poster boy for the Aryan race.” T’Pol let the sack she held drop to dangle from her hands. She lifted her head and asked, “But why me?” End of Part 2.
Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS! A whole mess of folks have made commentsinteresting story! Hurry with the next chapter Interesting... Trip and T'Pol in 1943 Germany. Enterprise in 2154 Anarctica, and Archer in San Fran at Presidio. Yes, please hurry…this is great so far! T'Pol's hand on Trip's sleeve -- what a lovely detail in what's turning out to be a really intriguing story! Looking forward to the next chapter! Hmm, I´ve tried to reply to chapter 1, wasn´t possible. Hmm. Sooo: Great, great new Aquila-fic!! Love the story, love the details! As usual: PLEASE hurry! ;-)))))) Interesting ... I'm hooked. Loved the Trip & T'Pol interaction. More please! Great story! I'm fascinated as to where you're going with this. I loved the T/T interaction of this chapter...especially the ear touch! (how is it possible that I've developed an ear fetish when it comes to these pair...I need help!) Yes, why did he pick T'Pol? Was it because of her striking beauty or lovely ears? Or perhaps because she's got Trip under her pinky finger? :) Yes, why did he pick T'Pol? Was it because of her striking beauty or lovely ears? Or perhaps because she's got Trip under her pinky finger? :) Yes, why did he pick T'Pol? Was it because of her striking beauty or lovely ears? Or perhaps because she's got Trip under her pinky finger? :) oh i so wanted a summer filled with what might be fan fics and this looks to be one of the first and i'm betting one of the best! oh what a great idea! neither of them speak German! uh oh. and yes Trip is the poster boy...what about T'Pol what is the plan? Oh please hurry and send us more chapters! Inriguing story more please.Trip and T'pol undercover in 1943 this I look forward to seeing more of.Aquila I've always enjoyed all of your stories. Great story! Looking forward to more. Oooooooh a mystery!! I love this VERY promising beginning!! Can't wait for more! |