Differential- Ch. 8

Differential

by Zane Gray (agent8e9@yahoo.com)

Rating: Most of the story will qualify as PG, but expect some seriously R-rated bumps along the way

Chapter Eight

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

The blazing glare of the Vulcan suns blasted down, scorching the barren landscape relentlessly. A hot wind kicked stinging dust into the air, forcing the young woman to pull the satin hood of her robe tighter around her face. She'd been walking for hours it seemed - strange given that her families' ceremonial grounds lay only a short distance outside of ShirKahr. Undaunted, the woman strode on, toward the distant mountains. It was nearly nightfall when she finally reached the sacred place. T'Pol bowed her head and dropped her hood carefully, presenting herself for the rites according to the ancient traditions of her people. But when she glanced up, she was surprised to discover that the place was empty. Were not her parents supposed to await her arrival? Was this not to be her wedding day? And where was her future husband and his family? T'Pol was completely alone, with only the roiling eye of T'Khut watching over her indifferently.

Perhaps that was as it should be. T'Pol looked down, feeling a twinge of embarrassment... of shame. Hadn't she always been alone? Hadn't others always regarded her differently? For her entire life, she'd felt like an outsider among her own people. While her peers published countless dissertations on the history of logic or conducted the same experiments endlessly, T'Pol instead looked to the stars. While other Vulcans were content to see no further than the sand between their toes, she yearned to travel to other worlds... to understand her place in the Universe. But T'Pol knew the price of these yearnings... a life spent alone.

Taking one last look around the ground her family held sacred... T'Pol finally realized that it meant nothing to her. Shrugging her wedding robe from her shoulders, she turned and began walking back the way she came. And then there came a voice in the emptiness...

T'Pol! Can you hear me? Please... help me. T'Pol...!

T'Pol awoke with a start. She'd fallen asleep - unforgivable! She glanced around quickly, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness of the cave. The fire was nearly out and it was cold. She stirred the embers and added new bits of kindling, careful not to wake Sesslek. His breathing was labored and he was talking quietly in his sleep, mumbling a string of strange words in an ancient Vulcan tongue.

"...Spunau bolayalar t'Wehku bolayalar t'Zamu il t'Veh..."

Clearly, he was not doing well. They'd have to get him back to the Enterprise soon, or he would not survive.

And that's when the voice came back to her - the voice from her dream. That she'd dreamt at all spoke volumes about her frazzled mental state. But it was the voice she focused on. The voice alone mattered now... Commander Tucker's voice. She knew without doubt that he was in trouble. Grabbing her tricorder and phase pistol, T'Pol hurried to the entrance of the cave. How long had she been asleep? She thought only a short time, but with the sun going down, anything could have happened. Trip could have been hurt, he could have gotten lost. All she knew for certain was that he was overdue... and she had to find him.

When she exited the cave, T'Pol was alarmed to realize that the sky was almost completely dark. Doing her best to temper her rapidly growing alarm, she stepped into the wind and disappeared into the night.

...

The sputtering sound of fusion torches echoed down the corridor as Jonathan Archer came to survey the repair work underway on F Deck. Trip's Engineering staff had been working for hours now, led by Lieutenant Burke. With the help of Malcolm's team from the Armory, they'd restored the aft hull polarizers and had even managed to bring secondary polarizers online - an idea Trip had suggested months before and had assigned Burke to begin preliminary work on. To say that Malcolm had been impressed with the Senior Engineering Assistant would be an understatement. Even now, he was up on the Bridge, giddily aligning the hull plating. Archer had never seen him so excited, and he suspected the young woman would be treated to a helluva dinner at their next port of call.

When she saw Archer approaching, Burke stepped away from the rest of her team, which was busy installing a new pre-burner and power couplings on the fusion generator in the Auxiliary Power compartment. She was covered in carbon soot and she looked exhausted, but Archer smiled at her anyway.

"Malcolm's ready to recommend you for sainthood and I'm inclined to agree. How's it coming?"

Hailey wiped the sweat from her forehead on her sleeve, and brushed a stray shock of long hair out of her eyes. "We're almost done, Captain. There's just one last generator left to repair after this one, up on D Deck. We've managed to patch the plasma leak and repressurize the lines to the port nacelle, but I think that's the best we can do outside of a spacedock. One good hit and it'll break loose again."

"That's all right. You've done more than anyone can ask, Lieutenant. Why don't you get some sleep."

"There's just a few more--"

Archer smiled again, patiently. "Consider it an order."

Burke relented. "Aye sir. As soon as we're finished here, I'll take a break."

"Good." Noticing that she seemed to hesitate, he continued. "You've done a fine job, Hailey. Trip would be proud."

She glanced up worried. "Do you think he's all right, sir? Commander Tucker's not... well, he's sort of--"

Archer laughed quietly. "You mean he has a way of getting himself into trouble whenever he leaves the ship?"

"Aye sir," she admitted sheepishly.

"I wouldn't worry, Lieutenant. Trip's got nine lives." Then he seemed to consider what he'd said. "And just in case, the Sub-Commander's got his back."

Burke nodded and went back to work, looking somewhat less that relieved. Archer turned and headed back to the turbolift.

I'm counting on you, T'Pol...

...

Sesslek awoke to the sound of someone moving down the long rock passageway from the entrance of the cave. After a brief moment of alarm, he noted T'Pol's absence, and reasonably concluded that she was the likeliest suspect. But judging by the heavy, trudging quality to the sound of the approaching footsteps, she was not alone.

Moments later, the petite Vulcan appeared from around the corner as expected, half supporting and half dragging an injured Starfleet officer, who appeared to have been exposed to the elements somewhat longer than was advisable. The fair-haired young Commander was in a sorry state, wavering on the edge of consciousness. He shivered uncontrollably as T'Pol deposited him near the fire and began brushing a shower of ice crystals from his hair and clothing. Sesslek did his best to stoke the flames as the man roused.

"So c-c-cold. Can't see..."

T'Pol glanced at him in alarm, and began scanning him with her tricorder. "You have a dangerous concentration of dissolved toxins in your bloodstream."

"P-plasma toxicosis. Need the medkit. Please tell me you have it."

Her concern grew. "I do not."

Trip looked at her dismayed. "What?"

"You were carrying it." She reached into one of the pockets in his parka and, with notable relief, produced a small metal container, upon which a stylized caduceus was etched. The Commander stared at it dumbly.

"I'll be damned..." He fumbled with the kit. "I need the bellamin-- the bellade--"

"Bellamide oxide? Sit still. I will administer the dose."

With care and efficiency, T'Pol loaded the appropriate vial into the kit's hypospray and pressed it into Trip's shoulder. He sighed in relief.

"Thanks. S-should be okay for a little while. But... still g-gotta get back to the ship." Trip squinted his eyes and focused as best he could on T'Pol. "Next time Jon asks me on an away mission... remind me to s-say no. Don't think I've really got the knack for 'em."

"You have had an inordinate number of mishaps."

"Whatcha need is someone who hasn't got a big r-red bulls-eye on his back. Like maybe one of Malcolm's Security guys..."

"I shall take your recommendation under advisement."

For the first time, Trip looked around, still squinting, and seemed to notice that they weren't alone. "Who's your friend?"

"His name is Sesslek. He was my mentor at the Vulcan Science Academy." She turned to Sesslek. "This is Commander Charles Tucker the Third. He is the Chief Engineer of the Enterprise."

Sesslek nodded politely. Trip gave a half smile. "Pleased ta meet ya. I'm uh... 'fraid I kinda b-blew up yer ship."

The Vulcan seemed to consider this for a moment, looking mildly surprised. "I was no longer using it."

That seemed to satisfy the Human, who laid his head back down and smiled wearily at T'Pol.

"Thought I'd never s-see you again..."

T'Pol took his hand reassuringly. "Obviously, you were mistaken. You should try to sleep now."

Trip yawned. "Hhhmmmmm... not tired." Moments later, he was out.

Sesslek's brow furrowed. "T'Pol, are you certain this man is an engineer?"

"Quite certain."

Sesslek raised an eyebrow. "He is perhaps the most... irrational individual I have ever met."

"You have not encountered him at his best," T'Pol admitted. "However, he is quite skilled... a brilliant warp specialist, even by Vulcan standards."

"Fascinating. It is very easy to underestimate these Humans."

"I too misjudged them often at first. But they have a way of surprising."

"Indeed."

They fell silent for a time. Sesslek quietly observed the concern T'Pol obviously held for her shipmate. She continued to stroke his hand gently as she pondered their situation. This was what struck Sesslek first. Vulcans, by nature, were not tactile beings, preferring instead to observe a strong sense of privacy and personal space. T'Pol, by contrast, was maintaining an almost constant physical connection with the young man... the kind of connection that was intended to reassure both parties. The kind of connection Vulcans only allowed with their mates.

As realization dawned, Sesslek was incredulous. "T'Pol... you have bonded with this Human?"

T'Pol regarded the dirt floor of the cave for long moments, feeling the crushing weight of humiliation as it bore down upon her heavily. This was the moment she'd been dreading ever since she and Trip had left the Enterprise. She couldn't hide her connection with the Commander. Not from her own kind. T'Pol looked up at her former mentor with as much dignity as she could muster.

"Yes."

...

It was only after some hours of uncomfortably silent contemplation that Sesslek finally spoke again.

"Obviously, your duties prevented you from returning to Vulcan in time for your marriage ceremony," he reasoned. "Biological imperatives no doubt necessitated a prudent, if unconventional, solution to the problem. Your actions were therefore logical, if inconvenient and... somewhat less than ideal."

T'Pol looked up at him suddenly, as if in surprise. Sesslek had been quiet for so long that she'd almost forgotten he was there, preoccupied as she was with her own thoughts and with observing Commander Tucker in his sleep. She should have anticipated her mentor's line of thinking. It was only natural that he should try to apply logic to her situation. She found it momentarily flattering that he had given her the benefit of the doubt in his equations. The truth, however, was undeniable.

"My actions were not logical. Koss's parents informed me that if I failed to return home at the appropriate time, our wedding would be canceled. When I was presented with an opportunity to return, I choose instead to remain on the Enterprise. My reasons were... self-serving. They were not logical."

Sesslek regarded her for a moment as he digested this new revelation. Then...

"It is possible... although difficult in the extreme... to break an undesirable bonding. It has been done successfully in very rare cases. But the danger to both of you would be great."

T'Pol glanced back at Trip softly, then lowered her eyes once more. "I do not wish to undo this bond."

Sesslek regarded her further, considering the admission she had just made. Then he sighed in resignation.

"I have known you for many years, T'Pol. You have never been one to follow the path that is expected of you. But though your courage in accepting responsibility for this bonding is admirable, your actions will no doubt have... serious repercussions. You will very likely be discharged from your service to the High Command."

T'Pol nodded solemnly. "I have brought shame to my family. I am already an embarrassment to them."

"Yours has always been a restless nature. But you must not be ashamed of who you are. We are all who we are for many reasons. Some are known to us. Others are not. You must ask yourself why you have made these decisions. And you must not be afraid of what you may find."

"There is nothing to find. In the eyes of our people, I am a disgrace. That alone is relevant."

Sesslek raised a skeptical eyebrow. "I too am the subject of a certain degree of scorn among my peers on Vulcan. But I serve a greater purpose - one which I believe is vital to the future of our people. What others choose to believe is not of my concern." He glanced at her pointedly. "Always remember, T'Pol... the course of your life is yours alone to chart."

T'Pol was taken aback by his comments. Sensing this, Sesslek smiled faintly in amusement. "Of course, we do not speak of such things on our world. It would not be considered logical."

Something suddenly occurred to T'Pol. She glanced at Sesslek pointedly. "You still have not told me why you came to this planet."

For long moments, Sesslek silently debated how much it was wise to reveal to his former protégé. He chose his words carefully.

"The Andorians you encountered are pirates... renegades. The T'Hath was sent by the High Command to retrieve something from them. Something that was stolen from our people a very long time ago."

Now T'Pol was even more puzzled. "Did you find that which you sought?"

The cold voice that answered was not Sesslek's. "Yes... he did."

The Vulcans turned suddenly in alarm. Dominas Shirv was standing in the passageway behind them, his disruptor rifle pointed squarely in their direction. The Andorian prince smiled darkly. "But now, he's going to give it back. Or all of you will die."

T'Pol exchanged a silent glance with Sesslek. Then she turned back to the intruder, and interrupted just as her mentor was about to speak.

"There is no reason to believe that you will allow us to live whether you get what you have come for or not."

Without warning, the Andorian struck T'Pol hard across the forehead, sending her flying into the ashes of the fire. It was a testament to her Vulcan discipline that she managed to withhold a cry from the pain of the burns her hands sustained. Now Sesslek spoke.

"It does not belong to you. You have no claim upon it."

Shirv whirled and struck him as well, although the Vulcan barely flinched.

"It's mine! I've paid your enemies dearly for it. And I will have it!"

"The thing cannot be bought and sold, Dominas. What is more, where I have hidden it, you will never find it. Not in a lifetime of searching. And if I die, it is gone forever."

"Then she will die first." With blinding speed, Shirv aimed his disruptor at T'Pol. There came the shrill ringing sound of unleashed energy... and then the Andorian looked down in shock at a burning hole in his chest. With a gasp, Dominas Shirv fell to his knees. He glared at Sesslek bitterly.

"It's not over yet... Vulcan..." he whispered. And then he died.

Lying next to Sesslek, Trip squinted frantically, his phase pistol waving back and forth in front of him. "Did I hit him?!"

T'Pol quickly surveyed the fallen corpse of the Andorian. The gaping wound was still smoldering.

"Yes." She stood and inspected her damaged hands. Then she turned to Trip, with a realization that sent a chill straight through her. "How long have you been awake?" Her real question hung in the air unspoken. How much did you hear?

With T'Pol's assistance, Trip climbed to his feet and holstered his weapon. "Long enough." He turned to Sesslek. "So you're bleeding inside and I've been poisoned. The way I figure it, you and I are gonna die in this cave if we don't get moving now. Are you fit to travel?"

Sesslek also struggled to his feet. "As you say, there is little choice. I will manage."

Trip turned back to T'Pol. "Someone has to take out that interference field. Take your friend back to the shuttlepod and I'll meet you there as soon as I can..." With that, he turned and headed determinedly for the exit. But, unable to see clearly, he walked straight into the rock wall and fell back on his ass. T'Pol helped him up again.

"Guess it's time for Plan B..." he admitted sheepishly. T'Pol struggled to keep a smile from her lips.

"I will deactivate the interference field. You will return with Sesslek to the shuttlepod, where you can make the necessary repairs. Sesslek will act as your eyes... you can lend him your strength."

The older Vulcan glanced at them both and straightened. "That arrangement will suffice."

T'Pol quickly gathered their gear and put out the fire. Then Trip slung Sesslek's arm over his shoulder and they were ready to depart. As T'Pol turned to leave, Trip called after her.

"Hey, T'Pol... be careful, okay? Consider it a personal favor to me."

She hesitated. "I will apply caution for us both, Commander." And then she was gone.

For a moment, Sesslek and Trip regarded each other uncomfortably. Then Trip cleared his throat.

"Well... guess we'd better bust a move."

"Indeed. The passageway is three meters to the right..."

...

Thirty minutes later, Trip was already exhausted. He and Sesslek were leaving heavily against a tree, taking a brief moment to rest. They'd only gone less than a kilometer, mostly climbing down steep rocks and ice, with the wind was blowing fiercely in their faces. But judging by the glowing light on the horizon, dawn was approaching fast.

Trip handed Sesslek his tricorder. "How much farther does this say?"

The Vulcan glanced at the device carefully. "Two-point-four kilometers to the east."

Trip nodded and pocketed the tricorder. Then he looked at his companion questioningly. "So how long have you known T'Pol?"

"Her father and I are colleagues. I have know her all her life. Sixty-five years, one-hundred and eighty seven days, twelve hours--"

"Damn. I knew she was old, but... damn."

The Vulcan raised a skeptical eyebrow. "She is barely adult by Human standards."

Trip stood and placed Sesslek's arm over his shoulders again. "Guess that's true. And she was a student of yours, you say?"

"Yes."

"Bet she drove you crazy sometimes, didn't she."

"There were moments that necessitated a higher degree of patience..."

Trip smiled. "I'll bet. Well, come on... it's all uphill from here."

They trudged on in the growing light.

...

Farther up the mountainside, T'Pol silently approached a level stretch of ground upon which a small shuttlecraft was resting. Moving cautiously, she crept up to the craft and hid behind one of its landing struts. Peeking around carefully, she saw a young officer pacing nervously back and forth, no doubt awaiting the return of his commander. He appeared to be alone. And there, on the other side of the pirates' small camp, was a large dish-shaped transmitter - the source of the interference field.

When the young Andorian was turned away, T'Pol stepped up silently behind him and leveled her phase pistol carefully at his back.

"Make no sudden movements. I do not wish to harm you, but I will not hesitate to do so. Raise your hands and turn around slowly."

The young officer complied, turning to face her. He was clearly terrified. T'Pol suspected that he had probably washed out of the regular Andorian military and had been recruited by the pirates.

"Are you alone?"

The man nodded, panicked. Adjusting her aim slightly, T'Pol fired an efficient burst with her weapon over the Andorian's shoulder. The transmitter shuddered momentarily and then blew apart, tiny pieces of its delicate, golden dish fluttering down upon the snow all around. By this time, the young man's knees were shaking visibly.

"Please! Please don't kill me! I'll do whatever you ask... just don't kill me! I have offspring... one of them is a female, like yourself..."

T'Pol strode forward and took his disruptor, tossing it away into the rocks where he'd have to spend considerable time searching for it.

"I do not plan to kill you. But neither can I allow you to follow me."

Once again aiming her weapon carefully, T'Pol destroyed two of the three landing struts on the shuttle. Off balance, the craft fell over on its side... and then slid a short distance on the ice, coming to rest on the edge of a steep precipice. T'Pol walked up to it calmly and, raising her foot, gave it a gentle push. The shuttlecraft slid easily over the edge of the cliff. Moments later, they heard the sound of it exploding on the rocks far below.

Satisfied, T'Pol turned back to the Andorian, who was standing in shock, mouth agape. He turned to her panicked, his voice noticeably higher.

"What have you done?! The Dominas will have my head when he returns!!"

"The Dominas will not be returning. You are free of his employ." This news took the young officer by surprise. Slowly, he began to relax.

"How will I survive without the shuttle?"

T'Pol considered this for a moment. Then she unshouldered her survival pack and tossed it at his feet.

"This will keep you alive. When I return to my starship, I will send word to your people to retrieve you."

With that, she turned and headed back the way she came. Slowly, the young Andorian lowered his hands. Then he bent down to examine the bag. It was filled with rations, a tent, a blanket, packs of water. He selected a small bar of something labeled 'Chocolate' and unwrapped it carefully, taking a tentative bite. Then his eyes went wide in surprise, and he sat down to eat contentedly. He began to smile.

Suddenly, the day wasn't looking so bad after all...

...

Several hundred thousand kilometers away, the starship Enterprise hovered silently in the shadow of a small asteroid moon, her grappling lines securely holding her in place above the rim of a large crater.

Inside, the Bridge crew sat silently at their stations, keeping watch on the planet below. Suddenly, Malcolm's Tactical panel began beeping insistently. He checked the display and looked up in surprise.

"Captain... the interference field is gone!"

Archer leaned forward hopefully. "Can you get a reading on Trip and T'Pol?"

"Scanning..."

Then Hoshi turned from her station excitedly. "Sir, we're receiving an incoming transmission from the planet! It's Sub-Commander T'Pol!"

Archer stood eagerly. "Put her on." Raising his voice, he spoke hopefully into the air. "T'Pol, are you and Trip all right?"

There was a brief burst of static, and then the Vulcan's voice came through clearly.

"The Commander and I are somewhat worse for wear, but we are alive. I have deactivated the Andorians' interference field and am returning to the shuttlepod now."

Archer frowned. "Andorians? What the hell are they doing down there?"

"I will explain when we have returned to the Enterprise, Captain. We will be accompanied by one survivor from the T'Hath."

Archer beamed, along with the rest of his Bridge crew. "I'll have the Doctor standing by in the Launch Bay. We're transmitting the rendezvous coordinates now." He glanced at Travis, who nodded and sent the data to Hoshi for relay. Archer sighed in relief. "It's good to hear your voice, T'Pol."

"I am gratified to hear yours as well, Captain. T'Pol out."

The moment the contact was broken, a cheer erupted on the Bridge. Archer laughed and sat back in his chair. Then he turned to Ensign Mayweather.

"Kick the tires and light the fires, Travis. It's time to go."

"Aye, sir! Will I ever be glad to get out of here..."

Moments later, the battered but resilient starship reeled in its mooring lines and angled away, headed for the frozen world below.

...

With a groan, the shuttlepod hatch opened to admit Commander Tucker, along with a swirling gale of snow and ice. The Human stumbled wearily inside and fumbled with the door controls, his shaking hands struggling to find the correct button to close the hatch behind him. That finally accomplished, Trip set his small tool kit on the floor of the pod and removed his gloves.

"Damn hands won't stop shaking. Guess it's a good thing we're going home soon. I still can't see much beyond arm's length, and now I'm starting to feel light-headed. This plasma toxicosis is nothin' ta mess with." Finally, he began looking around the cabin.

"I think I got the RCS thrusters back online. Hey Sesslek... you see that blue control on the panel behind you? The series of four buttons - two red ones, a yellow one and the blue one? Give the blue one a try will you?"

With great effort, Sesslek reached over and activated the correct control. Moments later, the shuttlepod thrummed to life. Trip smiled wearily and shrugged off his coat as the heaters began working to warm the cabin.

"Nice to know I haven't lost my touch." Then, for the first time, Trip focused on Sesslek and got a good look at his face. The Vulcan was sweating profusely and he was holding his side in obvious pain.

"No offense, but you're looking a little greener than normal. Are you all right?"

Sesslek nodded weakly. "I am well enough. Do not concern yourself, Commander."

With the toxins beginning to affect his reasoning, Trip failed to realize that the Vulcan was lying to him. And as he was unfamiliar with Vulcan culture, he was also unable to comprehend how significant that was. So, exhausted, Trip did the only thing he could... he nodded, gave the Vulcan a friendly smile and promptly collapsed into the nearest seat. He was unconscious within moments.

Sesslek regarded the sleeping Human for a moment, his brow furrowed in amazement despite his dire condition.

"Fascinating."

Then a terrible pain lanced up his side and he was unable to avoid crying out. Sesslek knew what this meant. Having lost so much blood internally, the burden on his heart was becoming too great. His circulatory system was collapsing. Sesslek was dying. Logically, there was only one course of action remaining.

Mustering all the reserves of strength he had left, Sesslek moved across the cabin and knelt next to the unconscious Starfleet officer. With determined precision, he removed his own glove. Then he regarded the Human with a degree of sympathy and compassion.

"It is obvious that T'Pol thinks very highly of you. She has shown a great deal of trust in you. Therefore, I shall trust you as well." Laying his hand upon Trip's face, his fingertips found the proper contact points.

"Remember..."

...

Only minutes later, T'Pol peered through the blowing snow and saw the welcome sight of Shuttlepod One through a break in the trees ahead. With relief washing over her, she struggled up to the small craft and leaned against its hull in exhaustion. She could feel the warmth of the craft's metallic-composite skin through her parka. Trip had succeeded in finishing the repairs. He and Sesslek were probably inside right now, running the preflight checks. The smile that appeared on her face would have seemed surprising... if anyone had been around to see it.

But the scene that greeted T'Pol when she finally opened the hatch rattled her Vulcan composure badly. Her mentor was lying motionless on the floor of the cabin. A quick check of his life signs revealed that he was already gone. T'Pol had only a moment to hang her head in sadness, when she heard a faint groan. Trip was splayed across the copilot's seat, his skin as white as the landscape outside. Panic threatened to overcome her weakened defenses, but T'Pol managed to tamp it down. The engineer's pulse was thready and weak, but he was alive. And T'Pol was determined to keep it that way. Kissing his forehead gently, she hurriedly strapped the Human into his seat, pressurized the cabin and took her place at the flight controls.

Outside, the high-pitched whine of the shuttlepod's thrusters rose steadily above the howling wind until, finally, the tiny craft rose through the trees. Then, with the first golden light of dawn glinting against its hull, Shuttlepod One soared into the sky and disappeared into the clouds.

...

"We're in position, Captain."

Archer stepped forward to check the navigation readout on the Helm. Satisfied, he gripped Ensign Mayweather's shoulder reassuringly for a moment.

"Hold us here, Travis. Malcolm?"

"The shuttlepod is climbing into the upper atmosphere now, Captain. They should reach our coordinates in less than ten minutes."

"Very good. I'm looking forward to having something positive to report to Admiral Forrest for a change. Hoshi, can you open a channel--"

Suddenly, Hoshi interrupted him urgently. "Sir, I've lost contact with the shuttlepod. We're being jammed again."

Just then a Tactical alarm sounded. Malcolm reported tensely. "Captain, I have four contacts bearing zero-seven-zero degrees... closing fast! Same type as the ship we encountered before. They're arming weapons..."

Archer turned to Malcolm irately. "Polarize the hull plating. Target the lead ship and hit it with everything we've got the moment they're in range. I'm tired of getting kicked around out here."

He strode back to his chair and thumbed the intercom. "All hands, this is the Captain. We're about to come under attack again. Take emergency stations immediately..."

On the forward viewer, the sleek outlines of the four Andorian frigates resolved rapidly as they closed at high speed. Multiple flashes appeared as the lead ship began firing. Then another alert sounded and Malcolm took action.

"Enemy in range! Firing all weapons!"

Hit with a full barrage of their phase cannons and missiles, the lead ship's shielding was quickly overwhelmed. It suffered numerous hits, and careened out of control. But there was no time to savor the small victory. Travis turned back from the Helm.

"Here they come!"

Moments later, the remaining ships opened fire... and all hell broke loose.

...

"Enterprise, this is Shuttlepod One. Do you read? Enterprise, please respond..."

T'Pol left the channel open but it was no use. Communications were being deliberately jammed. That likely meant that the Enterprise had fallen under attack. Lightly armed and only minimally shielded, if the shuttlepod were to attempt a rendezvous in the middle of a battle, it would be an easy target.

Checking the status panel, T'Pol began to silently debate her limited options. She could either continue as planned and hope for the best, head back to the surface or enter a different orbit, with the idea of finding relative safety by remaining as far away from the original coordinates as possible.

She was just beginning to plot a course for an alternate orbital insertion, when the shuttlepod shuddered violently. The cabin lights dimmed, and the monitors before her fluttered erratically. Seconds later, an alarm sounded. Conditioned by years of rigorous training as an engineer, Trip stirred and came to, undoing the straps and moving to stand beside her unsteadily. He scanned the flight controls slowly, struggling to make his brain work against the effects of the toxins.

"Uh oh... that's a master alarm. We're losing power."

T'Pol turned to him urgently. "I disabled the interference field. We should be unaffected by--"

Trip interrupted her as he struggled to get his eyes to focus. "No, no... you don't understand. The fuel cells are bein' drained somehow. S'not the interference field..."

He fell to his knees as the cabin began spinning around him. T'Pol grabbed his shoulders to hold him upright. "I thought you repaired the crash damage."

"Did. That N'dorian guy musta found the shuttlepod... sabotaged the cells so we wouldn't see it until we were in flight..." His head lurched forward precariously. Trip looked at her through eyes that were becoming dilated and unresponsive. "Sorry, T'Pol... m'so sorry... I wish..." And then he slumped to the deck.

Suddenly, T'Pol's options had been reduced from three to one. There was neither enough power to return to the surface safely or to make another orbit. In fact, at the rate the fuel cells were being drained, there would very likely not be enough power to reach orbit at all.

"Shuttlepod One to Enterprise... we are in urgent need of assistance..."

...

Unable to hear T'Pol's distress call through the jamming, Hoshi reported other incoming messages frantically. "Damage reports from all decks, Captain... heavy casualties... multiple hull breaches...!"

An electrical fire erupted from the Science station behind her, and crewmen raced to get it under control. Malcolm called out from Tactical, sounding frustrated. "Sir, the phase cannons are offline and we're out of missiles! The Andorians are regrouping... they're coming around for another pass!"

"Another pass and we're done for." Archer turned to the Helm. "Travis, can you get us out of here?"

"Not fast enough, sir. I've got one-quarter impulse only."

Archer thumbed the com. "Bridge to Engineering. I need more speed, Hailey!" There was no response. "Engineering... Hailey, are you there?" Nothing.

Malcolm called out again. "Captain, they're closing in. Three ships at two-nine-zero degrees!"

Thinking fast, Archer formulated a plan. "Travis, how close together are the first two ships?"

Puzzled, the Ensign checked his display. "Close... maybe a hundred meters apart."

"Set course two-nine-zero. Full speed. Take us right over them."

Travis's eyes went wide, but he replied quickly. "Aye, sir."

Archer turned to Tactical. "Malcolm, arm the grapplers. Aim for the lead ship when she goes underneath us..."

Suddenly, Malcolm smiled wickedly, getting the idea. "Bloody hell...!"

"Count us down, Travis..."

Travis shook his head in amazement, not quite believing what they were about to attempt.

Outside, the Enterprise turned gracefully to port and accelerated toward the attackers.

"Ten seconds to intercept... nine, eight, seven, six..."

"They're firing, Captain!" The Andorian ships unleashed a massive volley. The Enterprise rocked under the impact, the deck heaving violently. More alarms rang out urgently.

"…three, two, one!"

The Enterprise glided over two of the frigates. As it passed over the first, several grappling lines shot out from the lower hull of the starship, attaching themselves firmly to the upper hull of the attacker. Moments later, the lines went taught and the smaller craft was pulled violently off course by the larger ship's momentum. It tumbled wildly... directly into the path of the second frigate. They collided and disintegrated in a blinding flash.

The rest of the Bridge crew watched stunned. Malcolm shouted excitedly.

"You did it, Captain!"

But Archer only frowned at the viewscreen. On it, the third frigate could be seen swinging away on a new course, headed for the planet.

"Where's that other ship going?"

Then Hoshi called out again. "Sir, I'm getting something through the interference. I think it's the shuttlepod!"

Malcolm looked up from his screens in alarm. "Sir, the Andorian ship has spotted the pod! It's headed right for them!"

"Travis, set an intercept course! Full speed!"

"Coming around to intercept, sir! But how are we gonna stop them?! Our weapons are offline!"

Glancing at Travis, the Captain thought frantically. Then he thumbed the com again.

"Bridge to all hands. Evacuate all forward sections immediately! Brace for impact!"

...

As she struggled to squeeze every last ounce of power out of the shuttlepod's fuel cells, T'Pol caught only a brief glimpse of the Enterprise on her screens - just enough to know that it was badly damaged. Then, glancing out the viewport in front of her, T'Pol saw the dark outline of an Andorian frigate... headed right for her. Almost without conscious thought, T'Pol slammed the shuttlepod into a dive in a desperate attempt to evade the attack she knew was about to come. She barely registered the alarm signaling that the pod's fuel cells had run dry, when suddenly there was a blur of motion and silver-gray color. The Enterprise angled down fast, missing the shuttlepod by less than a hundred meters. It filled T'Pol's viewport and blinded all her sensors, slamming directly into the Andorian ship. There was a brilliant flash... and then the shuttlepod tumbled, out of control, right into the middle of it.

...

Archer came to slowly, realizing that he'd been thrown to the deck in the collision. He opened his eyes to burning smoke and darkness. Ensign Mayweather was laying nearby, unconscious. Struggling to pull himself up, Archer called out to Tactical.

"Malcolm... you still with me?" There came a long fit of coughing and then a weak reply.

"Aye. Barely, but I'm here, sir..."

Archer leaned unsteadily toward Communications. "Hoshi, can you contact the shuttle--" Then he realized that Lieutenant Sato was sprawled motionless across her station. She'd been struck by debris and was losing blood fast. Tearing the sleeve off his uniform, he tried to stench the flow.

Malcolm fought with his damaged station, trying to scan the immediate area around the ship. "The shuttlepod cleared the explosion, Captain. But they're losing altitude fast. They're going to burn up in the atmosphere if we don't do something in a hurry!"

Tying the bloody cloth as tightly as he could around Hoshi's wound, Archer moved to the shattered Helm station and began working the controls. It was no use.

"The Helm's not responding. Emergency power is failing. We're drifting."

"Sir, I'm reading another enemy ship approaching! It must be the one we damaged first!"

Crippled, but sensing that it's prey was mortally wounded, the last frigate swung around behind the Enterprise. The time for revenge was at hand. It armed its weapons and closed in for one last strike.

Archer and Malcolm could only watch the flickering viewscreen helplessly as the Andorian ship closed to almost point blank range. Defeated, Archer moved to the center of the Bridge, reaching for the armrest of his chair... for the control that would launch the ship's disaster log buoy. It chirped softly, confirming a successful deployment. The final act of Earth's first starship Captain.

Then Archer turned back to the screen. He watched calmly as the attacker opened fire...

...and promptly exploded in a volley of phase-fire. The com crackled to life.

"This is Captain Vanik of the Vulcan ship Ti'Mur. Stand by, Enterprise..."

...

Watching on her small viewscreen, T'Pol saw the last Andorian frigate vaporized by the combined fire of two Vulcan science vessels and a larger ship she believed to be the combat cruiser Sh'Raan. The Enterprise was safe. But although one of the science vessels was now moving to intercept the shuttlepod, it was simply too far away. Without power, the shuttlepod was already plunging steeply back into the planet's atmosphere, losing altitude faster than the tiny craft was designed to handle. Outside, the hull was ablaze from the friction of their passage. In a minute, perhaps less, the shuttlepod's spaceframe would rupture, and they would burn up.

T'Pol had failed. She'd failed her people, she'd failed her family. She'd failed Sesslek and her Captain. And worse than all of the others combined, she'd failed Trip. There was only one thing left that she could do. Abandoning the controls, T'Pol sat on the floor of the shuttlepod and cradled her unconscious mate in her arms.

Though she believed in neither Fate nor God, T'Pol knew that Trip did, at least on some level. And so she silently cursed both on his behalf, mourning the future they would never have. The life they would never spend together. Children that would never be born. She found it ironic that only now, at the end, had the thought of offspring ever entered her mind. Was it even possible for a Human and a Vulcan to conceive a child? She was saddened to realize that neither of them would ever find out.

Without warning, the shuttlepod began to shake and groan, no longer able to withstand the forces acting upon it. The temperature within the tiny cabin had risen to unbearable levels, the sizzling air burning over her skin, inside her lungs. Then T'Pol felt a strange tingling sensation from every nerve in her body at once. There were stars in her eyes and her ears began ringing - the cabin was decompressing. For a moment, she marveled at the strange sensations of death. Then she buried her face in Trip's dirty blonde hair and held him as tightly as she could, though she could no longer feel him in her arms.

"I love you," she breathed into his ear, though she could no longer hear her own voice.

And then the shuttlepod disintegrated.

---

Continued in Chapter 9

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