Small Steps - Pt. 2

Small Steps

By kittytrypsin

PART TWO (Chapters 4-8)

Rating: G, General, Action/Adventure
Disclaimers in Part One

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Chapter Four

Trag and his party followed their visitors at a discreet distance. They didn't want to be spotted, but had to be careful not to lose their quarry in the poor visibility. Not for the first time did they wonder why their visitors wanted to leave the sanctuary of the dome to explore the harsh terrain. Did they suspect something?

"What do you think they're up to?" Galax shouted into his ear.

"When we find them, I'll be sure to ask them." Trag answered.

The party had stopped whilst they talked, and when they started up again, Galax pointed to the empty horizon.

"They're gone, vanished!"

"I'm afraid they've found what they were looking for." Trag noted, grimly. "Come on."

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The journey to Indus had progressed smoothly. First contact was a cordial affair, pleasantries had been exchanged as well as the medical supplies, and Archer and crew had been invited to sample the planet's hospitality and lovely weather. Captain Archer, Doctor Phlox and Lieutenant Reed had stayed for a few hours, just long enough for common courtesy. They explained about their missing colleagues and promised to return at a more convenient time.

"Nice to know that not every alien race we meet objects to us being out here." Archer noted in his log. He patted his pet beagle's head affectionately as he closed the computer link.

"C'mon Porthos, let's take a stroll before I'm due back on the bridge. Only two more days before we're back at Altair. Sure can't wait to have Trip and T'Pol on board again. I'm sure they've been at each other's throats the entire time."

Porthos cocked his head at the sound of his master's voice, not understanding the words, but certainly picking up the right signals from his body language that could only mean "walkies".

Later, on the bridge, Archer spoke to Hoshi.

"Hail the away team and let them know we're 48 hours away."

"Aye, sir, but we might still be out of range. I'll let you know."

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T'Pol estimated that she had been cradling the Commander's head now for approximately 15 minutes. He still hadn't shown any signs of rousing, and she allowed herself to feel some concern for their predicament. Shining the torch upwards again to reassess the situation, she noticed other flashes of light around the top of the crater. Relief swept over her as she saw a rope being thrown down into the crater and a figure starting to lower itself towards her. Gingerly, the man made his way onto the ledge and crossed to kneel beside her.

"Sub-Commander T'Pol, are you injured?" It was Galax.

"I am quite well, thank you, and only minor bruising. However, I am concerned for Commander Tucker. He has serious injuries and needs urgent medical attention. May I assume you have some means of getting him out of here?"

Galax pondered his reply. He could see that the Commander was in a bad way.

"We have little need for such measures, as our people don't usually venture outside. However, I believe we have a litter and harness somewhere. Why don't I stay here with the Commander, you can go back and attend to your bruises, and our rescuers can get the equipment for your friend."

"Thank you, but I will remain with the Commander. Should he regain consciousness, he will be agitated and confused. I may be able to pacify him. Perhaps you would arrange for the necessary equipment to be acquired as a matter of some urgency."

Galax moved back to the rope, and with the aid of the party at the top of the crater, ascended quickly. He relayed his findings to Trag.

"This is bad. If Commander Tucker should die, we'll be right back where we started. Go back and stay with them, offer whatever assistance you can to T'Pol, and we'll be back as soon as possible."

T'Pol watched with interest as the figure returned to her. Galax filled her in, and they sat in quiet contemplation as they waited for the rescue to begin.

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"I'm sorry, Captain, but I've been unable to contact either of the away team. I'll keep on trying. The Altairian communicators are so antiquated that it'll probably be another day before we can raise them."

Hoshi knew Captain Archer was anxious to have his crew complete again, and she realised that she had missed the other two as well. Commander Tucker was always telling amusing stories, usually at the most inappropriate times, making her have to stifle a giggle just as the Captain would look her way. He often chose to ignore her childish laugh, realising that the ship's 'joker' was doing his bit for crew morale. And she was most surprised to discover how much she missed the Sub-Commander. Even though T'Pol constantly seemed to be on her back, Hoshi really admired the Vulcan, trying as hard to impress her as she did for the Captain. Yes, she'd be really glad when everybody was back where they were meant to be. A small voice in her head told her that maybe the away team should have been able to be contacted, but, shrugging, she told her small voice to be quiet.

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Malcolm Reed was a worried man. But then, he spent 16 hours each day as a worried man. As chief tactical/armoury officer, and therefore in charge of security on board Enterprise, he felt out of control when he couldn't account for the well-being of every crew member. Of course, there was nothing to imply that Trip and T'Pol were in any danger, but still.

"Captain, did First Minister Voltec give any reason for the Altairian weather being so bad?"

"No, Malcolm, he didn't, and actually I forgot to ask him. We were more concerned with finding out what repairs would be needed, and what with the trip to Centauri, it went out of my head. When we get back, you can ask him yourself. Although, by now, I'm pretty sure T'Pol will have found that out." "And what about weaponry? Did you notice any?"

"Malcolm!" Archer sighed, tiredly. "We'd just arrived to carry out the repairs they so desperately needed. They were unlikely to greet us brandishing weapons, now were they?"

Archer knew Malcolm was obsessed with his armoury. He took as much pride in it as Trip took in his engineering department.

"Sorry, sir, I suppose not. I'll just be glad when they're back. I've missed the arguments." Malcolm smiled at Archer. He knew the Captain was more than a little anxious, too.

"Travis, let's push this baby up to warp 5 for a while, give the engines a nice little warm-up to welcome our friends back home." Archer slapped the helmsman on the shoulder. Travis let out a breath that he hadn't realised he'd been holding.

"YES SIR!

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Trip Tucker slowly became aware of soft voices, very near him. He couldn't understand why they insisted in talking whilst he was sleeping. Did they not know he was so tired? He needed his rest, otherwise he was the first to admit that he got cranky. He'd had to warn Malcolm of that, once, on a mission, when Malcolm'd insisted on yackin' while he'd been trying to sleep. Sighing, he realised he was just going to have to tell them to be quiet. It was then that he realised, in a panic, that he couldn't open his eyes. Struggling to raise his hands to his face, he was suddenly assaulted by the worst pain he'd ever had the misfortune to experience. It started in his head, drove down through his torso, and out through the soles of his feet, taking all of his breath with it. He gasped like a drowning man, trying to suck air into his tortured lungs.

"Lie still, Commander. You have been injured, and movement will only exacerbate the pain." He thought he recognised the voice, but wasn't sure.

"T'Pol, that you?" he gasped.

"Indeed, Commander. Now lie as still as you are able. Help is on its way."

"What happen'd?"

"In the poor visibility, we fell into a crater. You have sustained some fractures and a litter is being brought to get you out."

"What about you? Ya hurtin'?" Talking was becoming more difficult for him with every word. His chest seemed to be on fire, and although he could understand T'Pol's words, his head seemed to be filled with cotton wool.

"I am fine, thank you. Vulcans are in possession of greater physical strength than humans, and I am able to control my mild pain with mind control."

"Yeah? Pity ya couldn't give me some of that."

T'Pol gazed at his face, contorted with pain, and found herself wishing the same. Even though Vulcans had learned to suppress their emotions, it didn't mean they were devoid of them. It annoyed her to watch another's pain, and she was contemplating rendering him unconscious with a nerve pinch, when Galax tugged her arm.

"They're back. Hopefully this won't take too long, and then the Commander can be looked after."

They watched as first another rope was lowered into the crater, and a man descended to the ledge. On a third rope, a long basket was lowered until the man was able to untie it. Galax moved across to assist. They carried the litter across to T'Pol.

"We have to lift Commander Tucker into this, then attach the basket to the ropes. The people on the surface will then pull him up. I'm afraid it's going to be a bumpy ride."

Trip didn't like the sound of that, much. Bumps were absolutely the last thing he wanted right now. A scream rose to his teeth and he clamped them shut to prevent its escape as the two men lifted him into the basket. The pain was the most excruciating thing he'd ever known, and he wished he could black out into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

"Commander, try to breathe slowly and deeply. It will help you to control your pain." T'Pol urged. She could see he was in great distress, and that he wasn't responding. "Trip," she tried.

Trip's eyes opened, clouded with pain.

"Ya ever tried deep breathing with busted ribs?"

T'Pol took pity on him and touched his neck, bringing sweet release as he blacked out.

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

Chapter Five

The rescue up the side of the crater was much easier once the injured man was no longer in pain. T'Pol was pulled up on one of the ropes, the stretcher on the other two, and eventually everyone was back on the surface. Trag motioned for them all to make haste back towards the dome, out of the elements. Once inside, they carried Trip's basket to a small room with a single bed in it. Setting the basket on the floor, they gently lifted the injured man onto the bed.

"What medical facilities do you have, First Minister? If you can show me what materials you have, I will attempt to render first aid to the Commander."

"Our supplies are limited, Sub-Commander. We don't have any medical personnel. Injuries are few and far between, and usually minor. But come, I'll show you what we have." Voltec led T'Pol deeper into the heart of the main dome, and into a room, which contained very little in the way of recognisable medical equipment. T'Pol sighed as she gathered together simple bandages and a few splints.

"Do you have any analgesics?"

"No, I'm most dreadfully sorry. As you can see, our planet's resources are very basic. We have only what we need for existence, not allowing for accidents. It's why we don't going exploring outside. We can't afford to have any of our people injure themselves."

"These will have to suffice until Enterprise returns. The Commander will be in considerable pain, but there is little we can do about that. I will attempt to alleviate his pain myself."

T'Pol turned and made her way back to where they'd left Trip. She'd never attempted a mind-meld with a human before. She wasn't even certain that she could control his pain, but she knew she would have to try. He was lying on the cot, his breath shallow and his skin glistening with sweat. She crossed to the sink in the corner and rinsed a cloth under the running water. Crossing to squat beside him, she laid the cloth gently across his forehead. She would wait for him to regain consciousness before attempting the meld. In the meantime, she set about cutting him out of his EV suit and partly out of his inner clothing in order to be able to apply the splints to his leg. Each time she rolled him, he moaned deep within himself. She bit her lip and resolved to continue her task. It would be much worse if he were to awaken before she'd cut away the clothing.

Once the splints were applied to the fractured leg, she wrapped the remaining bandages tightly around his ribs. He was strong, and his strength would help him to fight the pain and injury. When her tasks were complete, T'Pol allowed herself a momentary weakness of her own. Her injuries were very minor, but a few cuts required bathing. She had stripped out of her own suit and now bathed the cuts with water. The mild sprains to her wrist and ankle weren't worth thinking about, so she sat on a chair, waiting for Commander Tucker to come round. The door opened and Galax entered with some broth. She hadn't realised how hungry she was until then, and the broth smelled very appealing. So intent was she in partaking of the meal, she failed to notice Galax gathering up the discarded EV suits and removing them from the room.

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The Altairian council was in full swing. Voltec was on his feet, attempting to quieten some of the raised voices.

"Friends, I know this action is highly questionable, and at any other time, if the circumstances were any different, we would not be making these decisions. But the situation is so dire, the circumstances beyond our control, that we have no other choice. These people came to us to help, and with their help we will survive for a while longer. But for how long? When will the next piece of equipment fail, with no one here able to repair it? If we let Tucker and T'Pol leave, we're signing our own death warrants. It is not acceptable."

Heads nodded around the room. Voltec sighed. It had been a difficult meeting, with strong opposition to their actions, but common sense had prevailed, even amongst the most opposed.

"When Enterprise returns, we simply prevent them from contacting their crew members. We'll explain about the accident, but embellish it slightly. After the ship has left them here, they'll settle to their new life. What option will they have?"

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

Chapter Six

Enterprise had made up time traveling at warp 5. Archer smiled. Trip would've been proud of the way his engineering team kept a watchful eye on the warp coil. Occasionally, they'd asked for the speed to be reduced to 4.5, and after the briefest of respites, allowed warp 5 again. They wanted their Commander back as much as anyone.

"We're in hailing distance of the planet, sir, but I've been trying to contact the away team for over 1 hour now, with no luck." Hoshi reported.

"Could be all sorts of reasons for them not to hear our hail. Let's not panic just yet. Try Minister Voltec, instead. Maybe he knows where T'Pol and Trip are."

The main screen sparkled into life as contact with Altair was re- established. Voltec greeted Archer solemnly.

"Minister, good to see you again. I hope my people have been behaving themselves? We can't seem to raise them on their communicators. I wondered if you knew where they might be?"

"Captain, it is good to see you again, too. I only wish it was under happier circumstances. There was a terrible accident. Your people travelled away from the safety of the domes, and sustained fatal injuries. I'm so sorry. They're both dead."

Gasps were heard all over the bridge. Hoshi shook her head at ignoring her small voice. Travis cursed at the fact they'd had to go to Indus at all. Malcolm blamed himself for...well, everything, really, and Captain Archer dropped into his chair like a stone.

"Dead? How? What exactly happened to them?" he stammered.

"Visibility was very poor when they set out, perhaps foolishly, although I don't wish to speak ill of the dead. They fell into a crater, and their injuries were more than our simple facilities could sustain. I'm so very sorry for you loss. They were such skilled people."

Jonathan Archer's mind was reeling with the news he'd been given. T'Pol and Trip, both dead! He thought back to the couple of hours he'd stayed on Indus. If he'd refused to stop at all, maybe they would have been back in time to prevent this! His best friend of nine years was dead because he'd not wanted to offend a total stranger! And T'Pol. He'd become quite fond of her in the 7 months they'd served together. This was going to be so hard for the crew to come to terms with. He looked at the shocked faces of the bridge crew, and realised they were looking to him for guidance. He cleared his throat.

"I'd like to recover their remains, if you don't mind. We'll give them a decent burial, pay our last respects. I'll have a shuttle with my medical officer on board, with you shortly."

"Captain, I regret that won't be possible. You see, the accident happened several days ago, and we don't have storage for, um, corpses. Our practice is to initiate cremation as soon after death as possible. Their remains are no more!"

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Porthos looked at his master with canine understanding. He didn't know what the matter was, but if he was reading the situation correctly, his master needed a lick right about now. He jumped onto the human's knee and licked his cheek. It was wet, oddly. Archer's hand patted the dog's head, and he sighed.

"Good boy, but not right now, eh? I've a few difficult calls to make."

He opened the link back to earth, and spoke to Admiral Forrest. He explained about the accident, the loss of his two dear friends, and yes, realised he counted T'Pol as a friend. He asked Forrest to pass on his deepest regrets to the Vulcan High Command, and then started into the most difficult communication he'd ever had to make.

"Mrs. Tucker? How are you, ma'am?"

"Jonathon. How lovely to speak to you. How are things out there? I hope that boy of ours is staying out of trouble!" the accent was slightly softer than Trip's, but it was similar enough to bring Archer close to breaking.

"Ma'am, I'm so very sorry. I'm afraid this is the hardest thing I've ever had to do. It's about Trip."

"What's happened? It's bad, isn't it, John? Is he hurt? Will he be coming home?"

"I'm so sorry, " Archer repeated. "He won't be coming home. There was an accident on an alien planet. He was killed. They've cremated the bodies. I'm so dreadfully sorry!"

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Trip Tucker's nightmare was dragging on and on. First, he was in so much pain, it beggared belief. Then T'Pol had messed about with his head, trying, according to her, to help him control his pain. If he got out of this mess, he never wanted to experience a mind-meld ever again. His concussion had made him dizzy and disoriented before she got to interfering! Now, he could imagine he heard her voice calling him. If he remembered rightly, she'd even called him 'Trip'. He smiled, in spite of himself. It must have been the mind-meld that's caused her to relax. Mixing high-minded Vulcan ideals with good ol' country reasoning was sure to mess up the most disciplined of minds. And when he vaguely recalled lying in the crater, waiting for rescue, he could have sworn he had his head in her lap!

"Commander, open your eyes. Trip!"

Trip's eyes shot open at that. She did call him 'Trip'.

"Well now, Princess. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

T'Pol's eyebrow shot up.

'Oh, yeah! There she goes with that eyebrow thing, again.'

"Ok, so we're back in the dome, right? An' ya tried messin' with ma brains, but I still feel like I've been vaporised! What's next?"

"I'm afraid we're unable to communicate with the Captain. Enterprise has most certainly returned by now, but our communicators have been removed. I've attempted to get an explanation from First Minister Voltec, but he refuses to speak with me."

"What? Why would he hold us incommunicado? That doesn't make sense."

"All I am able to ascertain is that we are being held in this room, cut off from everyone except Galax, who brings sustenance."

"How long've I been out?"

"After we brought you back, you were unconscious for approximately one hour. Following the attempted mind-meld, you were catatonic for a further hour. I must admit I also found the experience...unsettling. Your mind is a very chaotic place, Commander."

"Trip, remember. Ya've tried it once, an' it didn't hurt."

She thought better of telling him it had been more than once. There were more pressing matters than bolstering his ego.

"We must find some way of getting out of here and making contact with the Captain. Voltec is most likely telling the Captain a falsehood to deceive him."

"Yeah, well, you go on your own, T'Pol, I'd only slow ya down. Get away and call the cavalry, an' I'll jus' wait for ya here."

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

Chapter Seven

Malcolm rang the signal outside Captain Archer's ready room.

"This had better be important!" the voice on the other side spoke. Bracing himself, Malcolm entered the room. He noted the pallor of his Captain's face, a certain redness around the eyes, and realised that most of the crew looked the same. It had been less than 6 hours since Voltec had delivered the news. The mess hall was filled with dazed people, simply sitting in a stupor, neither eating nor talking. Even Doctor Phlox, normally so jovial, was quiet, for a Denobulan. Malcolm cleared his throat.

"Sir, call me suspicious if you will, but something about this whole situation just doesn't add up."

"What are you getting at, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm noted the use of his rank rather than his Christian name. He trod even more carefully.

"I've been giving the Altairian situation some careful consideration. Is it too much of a happy coincidence that their problems were resolved by our arrival and the expertise of Commander Tucker and the Sub-Commander? And is it then too much of a wild idea that maybe, just maybe, they'd try to hold onto the very people who'd brought them back from the brink of disaster?"

"I don't want to accept that they're dead, either, but why would Voltec lie?"

"Why don't we take the shuttle down and ask a few questions."

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T'Pol was lying on the ground, moaning softly. Trip lay unconscious on the cot. The door opened to admit Galax, carrying more food. He gasped in horror when he saw T'Pol's prostrate figure. Quickly, he set the food on the floor and knelt beside the Vulcan. Just as quickly, she sat upright and pinched his neck, catching him as he fell to the ground. Trip opened his eyes.

"I wish ya'd teach me how ta do that, T'Pol."

"You do not have the physiology required, Commander."

She crossed to the cot and pulled him into a sitting position. He grimaced in pain, catching his breath.

"I tol' ya to go on your own. Get away an' get the Cap'n."

"I don't take orders from you, Mr. Tucker. We're staying together."

She pulled him gently to his sound leg, levering her shoulder under his arm to balance him on the other side. Like a pair of drunks, they staggered out into the hallway.

"Where now?" Trip gasped. This was most definitely not fun.

"If we can put some distance between ourselves and that room, you can rest in a more secure location while I attempt to locate a communicator."

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Shuttlepod One was being given a thorough pre-flight check by Travis Mayweather. The helmsman was very glad to have something to do that would occupy his mind, allowing temporary respite from the shared grief of the entire ship's complement. Not surprisingly however, he felt it more keenly when on the bridge, where T'Pol should have been at her Science station and Commander Tucker frequenting between his post on the bridge and engineering. The Captain hadn't explained anything about this away mission, but Travis knew how devastated Captain Archer was at the loss of his officers. He surmised that perhaps the Captain wanted simply to pay his respects by visiting Altair one more time before moving on. If that was the case, Travis felt he'd like to be a part of that, too. Jonathon Archer arrived quietly at the shuttle's hatch.

"Everything ready, Travis?" he asked, gently.

"Aye, sir. Um, are you going down alone?"

"No, Malcolm's got a few queries he'd like settled. And I'm taking a few other security men, purely as a precaution. We might fire a volley of shots off, you know, just to mark the spot." His voice trailed off, not wanting to say any more. Travis nodded in understanding, and even that small movement caused John to almost lose it. It reminded him so much of how Trip used to respond to him - a nod and that quick smile that he was never going to see again. Travis left his Captain to his thoughts. Shortly after, Malcolm arrived with a heavily armed security detail. They piled into the shuttle and Malcolm was about to close the hatch when a cheery voice called out.

"One moment, Lieutenant, if you please." Dr. Phlox scuttled through the hatch, somewhat breathlessly.

Malcolm studied the Denobulan curiously, and then turned to the captain for an explanation.

"Maybe I'm clutching at straws, Malcolm, but on the outside chance of them being held against their will, and alive..."

"Understood, sir. A wise decision."

Archer addressed the Doctor. "When we land, you stay in the 'pod. I hope, in a perverse way, that we will need your services. Malcolm, you know what I want you to do."

Chapter Eight

T'Pol and Trip were making very slow progress. The effort of forward motion was making Trip dizzy and nauseous. T'Pol's right shoulder was under his left arm, and his arm was draped across her shoulder so that she could grab his wrist. Unfortunately, his fractured ribs were on that same side, so overall, the effect was dynamite.

"I've gotta rest, T'Pol. I'm sorry for bein' a wimp, but if I don't lie down, I'm gonna fall down." he gasped, his face contorted in pain. T'Pol gripped his wrist and waist firmly.

"Hold on, Commander. We need to find a place of concealment."

Turning the next corner, T'Pol was surprised to find that they'd made their way to the generator room. Easing Trip against the wall, she silently opened the door. Inside the room, the generators continued to hum productively, but there was no one attending them. She stepped outside again and caught Trip just as he was sliding to the ground. His face was ashen and beaded in sweat, and he was barely conscious.

"Commander. Trip, come on. You can rest now."

Helping him to stagger inside, she almost had to drag him behind some equipment. There wasn't anything for him to lie on except the ground. Lowering him as gently as she could, she shook his shoulder.

"I will endeavour to contact the ship, Commander. Rest here until I return."

In response, Trip simply grunted. Stepping carefully out into the corridor again, T'Pol slipped away quietly. Looking down at her attire, a distinctive cat suit, she was aware that she was conspicuously different from any of the Altairian females. Her thoughts turned to acquiring some clothing to help her blend in. moving cautiously towards one of the dwelling zones of the dome, she set about 'borrowing' a hooded cloak, which effectively hid her uniform, and her distinctive ears.

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Archer landed the shuttlepod as close to the main dome as possible.

"Malcolm, I'll get Voltec to lead me out to where, well, you know; and when he's away, you can have a look around. Those clothes you're wearing should shield you from curious glances, but try not to shoot anyone until we have a reason to."

"Aye, sir, but if I'm right."

"I know, here's hoping. Ok Doc, sit tight."

"I'll be right here, Captain. Good luck in your venture."

Archer and the security detail were already wearing their EV suits, and stepped out of the shuttle. He had decided against notifying the Altairian council of their return, but he wasn't surprised to see Voltec himself meeting them as they arrived at the dome.

"Captain Archer, this is un-expected. Did I not explain that there wasn't anything for you to do here?"

Voltec looked rattled, Archer decided, which he hoped was a good sign.

"Sorry to drop in unannounced, Minister, but it's an old earth custom to give fallen comrades a military salute. I've come with an armed detail to fire a volley of shots at the site of the accident. I'd appreciate your showing us the way."

"Captain, I don't mean to speak against your customs, but our hostile environment has already lost you two crewmen. Is it wise to risk more lives?"

"I'm prepared to take the risk. Lead on!" Archer spoke brusquely. He'd had enough of tact and diplomacy, now he desperately wanted answers, and he needed the chance for Malcolm to go snooping. Voltec struggled with his decision, but he realised that to refuse to lead this Captain on his quest would only invite suspicion, and the last thing he wanted was for Archer to remain any longer than absolutely necessary.

"Very well, but against my better judgment, we should set out immediately."

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Malcolm watched the party heading out. He presumed that was Minister Voltec in the lead, together with the Enterprise crew and several other Altairians. He wasn't concerned for the Captain's safety: the security detail wasn't along just for a military salute. He turned to his companion.

"Okay, Doctor, wish me good hunting."

"Naturally, I do, Lieutenant, and I hope to hear from you soon."

Malcolm checked his phase pistol for the tenth time before stepping out of the shuttle. He'd been warned about the weather conditions, but was almost blown off his feet at first. He was very glad the shuttle had landed so close to the dome. He wouldn't have liked to be outside for too long without an EV suit. No one paid him any attention as he entered the dome. He'd concealed his pistol in the folds of his cloak - the wardrobe department on Enterprise had come up with a reasonable facsimile of Altairian clothing. Striding out with a look of confidence that he didn't feel, he began to explore his surroundings. The entrance to this main dome was like the hub of a half-circle, with corridors leading away like wheel spokes. None of the corridors displayed any signposts, but as Malcolm reasoned to himself, the natives didn't need them, and he wouldn't be able to read them anyway. He tried to think of where Trip and T'Pol might be held, if they were being held at all. 'More than likely being made to work' he presumed, 'so let's try communications and generators for a start.' He didn't really have any idea where to start, so he decided to be methodical and start at the farthest right and work through them, no matter how long it would take.

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Archer was finding the trek arduous, and shook his head in dismay at what had driven T'Pol and Trip to make this journey voluntarily. It had to have been Trip's idea - he'd never got tired of exploring, everything was an adventure. John shook his head to clear the tears that threatened to spill. After they'd been trudging over the uneven ground for about 40 minutes, Voltec suddenly stopped and held up his hand. He removed his helmet in order to hear what was being said.

"This is it, Captain. I'm afraid in the poor visibility they didn't have a chance. The fall killed them instantly. I'm so very sorry."

They stood on the edge of the vast crater and Archer shivered as he looked down into the watery depths. He remained silent for a few moments of quiet remembrance, and then signaled to the security detail. They raised their phase rifles to their shoulders and fired the salute.

"What would have created such a huge crater, Minister? Do you have volcanoes on Altair?"

"I'm not familiar with that word. However, these craters are an unfortunate result of our weather. Erosion occurs due to the constant wind and rain, and where there is insufficient underlying rock, these vast pits occur. I feel dreadfully responsible for not having sufficiently warned your people against venturing out alone. Visibility changes so dramatically and so rapidly, that they wouldn't have stood a chance. And speaking of visibility, I really do recommend that we turn back now."

Archer took a final look into the crater before nodding. He couldn't justify any further time wasting and just hoped that Malcolm was making good use of whatever time they'd given him.

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

Continue to Part 3 (Chapter 9 - 11)

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