A Fine Mess-Ch. 12

A Fine Mess

By Chianna

PG - Action/Adventure/Romance
Disclaimers in part one

Chapter 12

What Cost Victory?

"Heroism feels and never reasons and therefore is always right." - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

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Trip had walked out calmly from the bridge, but the moment he was out, he was running hell bent for engineering. As he closed on the starboard section of D deck, he realized that he was running against the tide of his team moving out of the area. They were carrying every piece of equipment that was not nailed down from engineering – and out of harm’s way.

Some greeted him with a nod or shout but no questions were asked. They were well aware of the Commander’s mission – probably better than anyone else in the ship. They did nothing to delay him or themselves. Trip was not sure that he had ever been more proud of his team.

The deck shuddered as another hit had found it’s mark on the Enterprise’s hull. Trip hit the wall and the emergency tool kit flew out of his hands. Smoothly he reached down and scooped up the gear. Tucking it under his arm, like a running back recovering a fumble, Trip was almost at the end zone. He stopped short and pulled out one of the tricorders and examined the old patch on the hull and the surrounding outer bulkhead.

At least here all looked well. He then scanned the path above his head in the corridor and immediately found the damage that he had feared. Radiating like multiple lighting strikes, the micro fissures passed over the deck and disappeared into engineering. Located overhead was the Jeffries tube that conducted the phase cannon power from the buffers in engineering.

He took a few steps down the corridor and climbed up one of the access ports to the tube. As his head pulled up even with the floor of the tube, Trip let out a whistle. The damage was more evident here. The last few hits had compounded the problem. Branching out from the fissures were cracks in the metal that were likely the result of metal fatigue. Once the fissures appeared every twist of the ship had put a strain on the surrounding metal structures.

Just like an egg squeezed in your hand, one of nature’s great engineering marvels. The eggs unique structure dispersed the energy and was almost impossible to break. But just one crack in the egg... try that maneuver again and it’s omelet city.

"Tucker to the Bridge."

T’Pol’s perfectly modulated tones responded. "Yes, Commander."

"I need you to shut down main power to the phase cannons, ASAP. Once I go to work, I don’t want to turn Mrs. Tucker’s fair-haired boy into a crispy critter."

"There would be no crisp involved, Mr. Tucker – you would be vapor. Proceed." On hands and knees, Trip looked up for divine guidance and then just hung his head and shook it for a moment. How the heck did he ever find himself attracted to the universe’s answer to the ultimate straight...person, Vulcan, oh hell - whatever?

T’Pol had done her job and Tucker resumed rerouting the relays. "T’Pol, I need you to reroute power to the port conduits from your station. Once you give me the heads up, I’ll make the final adjustments. Then it’s up to y’all."

T’Pol signaled to Tucker and Trip made the final adjustments.

On the bridge, Archer was watching the screen. The attacking ships had become bolder now, sending in two ships on this attack run.

"Plan B, Malcolm. Target the cover vessel and one of the approaching ships as well."

"The moment that I have a system to target, sir." There was no sarcasm in Reed’s reply.

Come on Trip, Archer pleaded to himself, you’ve never let me down. You can pull this one out of your engineering bag o’ tricks.

"Tucker to Bridge. Fire at will."

Malcolm’s board lit up and without a moment’s thought, or waiting for the captain’s command, he brought all three cannons bear and let loose a fearsome barrage. Simultaneously, one of the enemy ships let loose a volley that connected with the Enterprise’s starboard side.

Tucker had begun crawling out of the Jeffries tube when the ship shuddered from two powerful blasts arriving in quick succession.

He flattened to the deck of the tube and covered his head with his arms. Suddenly a rending sound surrounded him, so loud that it seemed to pass through him. The tube tilted crazily, breaking through the wall of engineering just below the high bay. There was no coherent thought or plan. The only thing that Trip could do was hold on.

Malcolm’s aim was deadly. The first hit had exploded the nearest attacking vessel. The second had also found its mark. Though the starship seemed relatively intact on the screen, sensors showed that it was venting atmosphere. There was no sign of life.

The third ship, having gotten off two rounds, cut off its attack. It veered and looked like it was going to make a quick retreat.

Damage reports were coming in from all decks. There was no question that Enterprise would not be putting up a pursuit. Vanishing with the departing vessel was their best chance of knowing who was behind the sabotage of the Aviarian home world.

Suddenly an image filled the screen as it screamed forward from behind Enterprise in pursuit of the ship. At once they all made out the lines of a heavy Vulcan Cruiser. And, oh boy, thought Archer. What a beautiful sight. The entire bridge was on its feet as the Vulcan ship closed, throwing out a tractor beam that seemed to engulf the smaller ship like an insect in amber.

Malcolm and several of the crew let out whoops that would have made Tucker proud. Archer, then realized what was missing. They had not heard from the commander and T’Pol had been eerily quiet as the rest of the bridge crew was patting itself on the back.

Arch looked back at T’Pol.

"T’Pol?"

"Minor casualties to report. Serious internal structure damage to deck D, starboard section – engineering."

If T’Pol had poured ice water over them all, the effect could not have been more immediate. The silence was deafening.

"Archer to Engineering."

"Archer to Tucker." No answer. Come on Trip, Archer thought. Answer me.

Dead air was his only response.

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Continued in Chapter 13
Back to Chapter 11

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