To Boldly Go Once Again-Ch 12

To Boldly Go Once Again

By Eratta

Rating and disclaimers in Chapter 1

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

Chapter 12

From his usual perch in engineering, Trip kept a close watch on the preparations for the plan: all personnel stationed on the bridge had been elaborately made up to pass as Suliban, check, the transporter was warmed up and as enhanced as he could make it, check, weapons and engines were primed for the getaway, check. Everything was ready, and now there was nothing to left to do but wait.

Charles Tucker the third did not like waiting.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

On the transported platform, T’Pol and Commodore Archer also waited. Both knew that at this very moment, Lt. Sato was informing any inquiring minds on the other side of the viewscreen that a new ship had arrived to be emptied of its crew and stripped of useful materials.
Archer shifted his weight from one foot to the other, glancing around the room. T’Pol ignored him even when his roving eyes alit on her. She had more important things to do—rather, to think about—than attempt to calm Archer. She ran over the plan again in her head, checking figures and making sure one last time that nothing had been overlooked.

Scans of the planet had located a number of lesser power signatures. Lt. Reed had guessed that at least one, the one with the closest range to the helixes, would need to be shut down in order for Enterprise to transport Columbia’s crew.

There was no logical explanation for her tension; by now she had been on so many danger-infused away missions that it should be, as the human expression called it, old hat.
Yet still she felt the peculiar feeling akin to nausea in her stomach. T’Pol tried to calm herself, to quiet the churning thoughts in her head. Irritation, be it at herself or one nameless engineer, was not an acceptable state to be in at the present moment. The comm. on the wall sounded, a precursor to Lt. Sato’s voice.

“You’re clear to transport, Commodore.”

“Acknowledged.” Archer answered from his spot. He nodded to the crewmen manning the transporter, and in just a few uncomfortable seconds Archer found himself on yet another alien planet with his trusty science officer at his side. The air was breathable, like it conveniently was on so many other planets, but it was heavy and rank. He gagged, only imagining what it was doing to T’Pol. He stole a quick glance at her, and snorted at the face she was desperately trying to undo.

The Vulcan glared at him. He shut up; instantly, if not honestly, contrite. T’Pol turned back to her scanner, tapping it here and there as she moved around him.

It wasn’t too long before she reported, “There’s a power signature coming from across that lake.”

Archer looked to where she was pointing. It was dusk on the planet and the fog was getting heavier by the minute. Pretty creepy, was his initial observation. He could just barely make out where the land ended and the water began. T’Pol was already striding ahead, the dim light eerily reflecting the grey material of her clothes. Archer, not used to being the follower, strode double-time after her to catch up. They stopped at the water’s edge, T’Pol slowly passing her scanner to and fro. Assuming that she probably wasn’t too comfortable around large bodies of water, Archer let her take her time. Besides, that pitch black lake didn’t exactly fill him with excitement either.

“There are numerous life forms.” T’Pol said, the clamped silence punctuated by the gentle whirs and blips of her instrument. “But nothing large enough to harm us.”

Archer peered at her, not entirely convinced. When he didn’t make the first move into the water, T’Pol looked up from her tiny monitor to his waiting face. Of all the away missions, this is the one where he chooses to be hesitant, she said her herself. Typical. Really, she wondered why she was surprised at all.

Gingerly, she took two steps into the water, testing the ground to see if it would support her weight. Archer handed her a flashlight from his pack, being that it was now quite dark. T’Pol waded in a little further, up to her waist. She turned around to face Archer, his flashlight in her eyes making her squint.

“We’re going to have to swim across, aren’t we?” He asked. It wasn’t a big lake, more like a large pond. Still, T’Pol was barely 3 yards out, and she was already half submerged.

“It appears so.”

She definitely didn’t sound happy about that. T’Pol tossed her scanner to Archer, who caught it and put it inside his pack. The standard waterproof lining would protect it, and it was with no small amount of caution that Archer also entered the water. The few years of their mission had taken away much of his headstrong zeal.

He was pleasantly surprised to find the water was almost warm, and it made it easier for him to catch up to his scientist companion. She, however, was already shivering.

“You do know how to swim, right?”

T’Pol was staring into the liquid, beyond which the rest of her body was submerged. Every now and then she thought she felt something brush against her ankles. Whether Archer felt it too, she didn’t know. But if it he didn’t, it would not be wise to enlighten him.

“I should be able to manage.” She said. Together, they took off, slowly swimming as straight as they could see. Within moments, they couldn’t see anything, not even each other. The two tried to follow each other’s small splashing. The temperature had fallen and was now rising again T’Pol noted. The variation was subtle, but she inferred that they had passed the middle and we’re now approaching the other side. She could still feel things moving around her body; slimy things, wriggling past her in the inkiness that engulfed her. Her muscles twitched and shivered in revulsion, and T’Pol worked hard to stay focused and listen for Archer.

Jon didn’t want to say anything, lest it upset T’Pol, but the little ‘harmless’ organisms her scanner had picked up were definitely brushing up against him. Just a little more, he kept telling himself. Never before had he experienced such a total absence of light. Were they even heading in the right direction? Not that he really cared at this point; priority number one was getting the hell out of this teeming cesspool.

There was a yelp to his right, followed by a giant splash.

“T’Pol?”

He could hear her gasping, thrashing in the water. She seemed farther away than he though she should be. Archer started swimming towards her, pumping his limbs hard to sweep away the water separating them.

Then, the thrashing stopped. He stopped too, listening. There was nothing but his own scared breathing. Shit.

“T’Pol!”

Archer turned round and round, desperately trying to hear something, anything. There was a little popping sound behind him, getting louder by the moment. It sounded like . . . bubbles, he realized in horror. Gulping in as much air as his lungs could hold, Archer dove. His hands groped in the darkness feeling for the drowning Vulcan.

Something poked him, then grabbed a fistful of his uniform. He screamed, choking on thick black water as he blindly wrenched himself away. He shot back to the surface and immediately dove again, this time knowing the spot. His hand arm connected with something, and he grabbed it as it grabbed onto him. Her hand, it was definitely her hand.

Pulling himself to her, Archer found her shoulder, her neck, and finally her head. He pressed his mouth to where hers should have been. It opened, desperate for the air he breathed into it. That done, and panic rising, Archer groped along her body to see where T’Pol was stuck. Both arms were free, as was her torso and one leg. He could feel the right leg kicking, obviously caught on something.

Once more Archer had to abandon her for more air. He repeated his earlier procedure, giving the Vulcan some of it and conserving the rest for himself as he tried to get her free. Her ankle was caught, some kind of seaweed tangled around it. The needles bit into his palms as he pried them apart, working them frantically down T’Pol’s foot. His head was starting to get fuzzy and his hands were slowing. T’Pol, who had been as still as possible until now, started kicking again. Her foot slipped loose as she grabbed Archer and hauled them back to the blessedly foul air.

Both hacked and spluttered, scrambling for the shore that had to be no more than a few meters away. Archer’s toes connected with ground, and he grabbed T’Pol’s arm to pull her the rest of the way. They collapsed onto the leafy shore, breathing hard and shaking with cold and adrenaline.

Archer rolled onto his stomach, dragging in as much of the dense air as he could while T’Pol wretched beside him. It was some time before they recovered enough to speak. Archer’s muscles screamed and his head throbbed as he removed the soaking pack from his back. He grabbed a flashlight and shone it on their surroundings before turning it on T’Pol. She lay huddled on the ground, eyes closed and mouth firmly shut to quiet the chattering of her teeth.

Archer moved closer to her, pulling her into a seated position before handing her the scanner. They sat huddled together, feeling the steam rising from their bodies. T’Pol’s fingers shook as she manipulated the device, moving it around to get their bearings.

“150 meters, that direction.” She pointed. Archer aimed his little beam of light where she was pointing. It didn’t go more than 10 feet before the darkness swallowed it up.

“Perhaps we should stay here until morning.” The Vulcan suggested. Though she could barely see his face, she could tell he was shaking his head.

“Better to get there as soon as possible. We don’t have a lot of time.” She could hear him standing, so T’Pol stood as well. As they started to make their way through the rocky ground, she couldn’t help but miss her quarters on Enterprise, and wondered what Trip—no, Captain Tucker—was doing. She hoped everything was going smoothly, but given her vast experience in such matters, T’Pol knew it was unlikely.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Maar looked around the corner, making sure no one was watching. She scratched her scalp as the turbolift doors opened and closed behind her, heading up to the engineering deck. She didn’t like to use the accelerated hair growth enhancement; it was far more comfortable to be bald.

Jenar’s voice slithered into her head. Anything yet?

Such an impatient one, this newest commander of hers. Not yet. She’d only just come from the Earth ship’s launch and sickbays. Jenar seemed to forget how difficult it was, maintaining multiple personas with so many enemies around. She stepped into the engineering section, easing her way around the perimeter as she took in the state of things.
Work was at a minimum. The crewmen did not appear hurried as they went about mundane tasks, yet everyone was alert. Clearly, something was going down.

Which one is the Chief Engineer? She asked.

Silik—that lurking fool—she thought privately, sent her an image. Ah yes, there he was atop the reactor, looking like a caged animal. This one was wound up tighter than the rest; fidgeting, jaw tensing and releasing as he looked around the cavernous chamber. Yes, something was definitely going on. She’d need to get to the bridge to learn more.

Maar slipped out the way she came, back to the hydraulic lift and up to the bridge. Interesting. The humans have disguised themselves as Suliban, she reported to the others. She could feel their curiosity through the link. She moved to the back of the room, eyeing the Situation Consol. There was no doubt now; it showed the system, specifically The Planet and helixes surrounding it. A small, winking light shone from the western most hemisphere, close to the larger generator. Very interesting. What are they up to?

“Shouldn’t you be in engineering?” A large, disguised human was in front of Maar. She nodded and turned on her heel. Recon was done for the moment.

Back in the little prison, she once again took on the form of the guard who had been ordered to watch them. The same guard who was now unconscious and hidden beneath the deck plating.

Was Archer on the bridge? Silik asked. Maar sneered. Silik disgusted her, the little worm. He caused far more trouble than he was worth, and this personal vendetta against the human had disaster written all over it.

Everyone on the bridge was disguised.

What else did you find out? Jenar asked.

I briefly saw a consol. We’re orbiting The Planet, and it appears someone has gone to the surface, near the larger generator.

It’s Archer, it must be. Silik seethed. Tulan, silent until now, reprimanded him.

Silence.

But Jenar mused. It probably is Archer. Probably the Vulcan as well.

The four exchanged a look. Perhaps getting out of this mess would be easily than they thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Stomping his way through thorny brush, Archer paused for a moment to wipe the sweat off his face. It didn’t do any good; the deeper they trudged through the forest, the muggier it got. Add to it all the chaffing from his wet uniform and Jonathon Archer was not a happy man.

T’Pol was about three meters ahead of him, her smaller frame better able to maneuver through the dense foliage. She went a bit further and stopped, running one hand along the vines that blocked her path.

“Wait for me, I’ll clear it.” He called, forcing his way through.

“This is it.” T’Pol called back. Now that he was closer, Archer’s flashlight beam shone on a black matte wall that absorbed the light. It appeared to be one large piece; as far as he could tell, there were no seems or bolts of any kind.

“Any idea how we get in?” He tossed the question to her. T’Pol didn’t answer. She’d grown increasingly quiet all night, and though he feared it could be something more serious, Archer dismissed it as plain old tiredness.

Suddenly, T’Pol placed a hand on his shoulder, a signal to be still. Archer waited, knowing she’d heard something. Her eyes stared catlike into the shadows, her whole body tense as she waited, not even daring to look at the scanner. Archer, however, peaked at it and saw that 3 life forms—large ones—were approaching, and fast. Two were coming from either side of them, the third directly from the front. They were caught with nothing left to do but wait to be pounced on.

The jungle was vacuum, absolute nothingness so complete that T’Pol was beginning to question whether she truly had limbs. And there, so hauntingly close to a hallucination that she almost didn’t react, was the sound of a phaser being set to stun. She moved too late, and on her way down the plasma burned a precise trail down her deltoid. The Commodore was wrestling with something, and before she knew it T’Pol was pinned to the ground by a warm, heavy body.

The fear and anger that had been amassing since their arrival on the planet was unleashed, and for once she welcomed it, feeding into it so she could live another day. In a few short, powerful movements she was up and squeezing the life out of the beast.

The beast coughed. And her hands registered no fur. Actually, her thumbs were jammed into jugular veins. Humanoid jugular veins. Millennia of inbred self-preservation kept the Vulcan from releasing her victim. She pressed her face closer to her attacker’s, pupils dilated to the max. Millimeters separating her nose from his, she made her discovery.

“Ensign Mayweather.”

With more reluctance than she ever would admit to herself, T’Pol released the dying human, wrapping her arms around herself. Her actions may have lied to the others, made them think she was cold, but she knew the truth. Her hands, a killer’s hands, could not be trusted.

Mayweather fell to the ground, where one of his compatriots guarded him from further attack. The 5 individuals shined their lights in one another’s faces, squints all around.

“Commodore Archer.” Said one voice.

Archer moved close to T’Pol, startled by the half crazed and tortured look she was sporting. Well, at least we found them. He thought.

Chapter 13

Return to Chapter 11

Back to Fan Fiction Main Menu

Have a comment to make about this story? Do so in the Trip Fan Fiction forum at the HoTBBS!

Eight hardy souls have made comments

this is getting soo juicy. did t'pol perhaps do some things she may regret while away those ten years? good chappy!!

"A killer's hands?!" What's T'Pol been up to? Oooh, I'm lovin' the idea of a flashback here. Are we gonna get one? Maybe she could freak around Trip and confide in him, huh? Then he could give her some good old southern comfort! - : ) D

Glad to see an update, and so soon! Yay!

Yowza! What a cliffhanger!

Outstanding. I am very much looking forward to seeing the next chapter...

Please keep writing!! It's getting fabulous.

Any chance of an update? This fic is too good to just abandon ...

Hey where is the rest of it... its sooo good.. dont tell me you've given up?