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"Polemics" by A. Rhea King
Rating: PG CHAPTER 1 Trip glanced back at Archer who was working at the monitor behind him. Trip cleared his throat, looking back at the controls. “Sure am getting hungry,” Trip said, smiling. Archer didn’t acknowledge him. “Bet they got some meatloaf and potatoes in there.” Trip glanced at the small planet they were passing. It sharply reminded him of Earth with a brilliant blue ocean and white clouds. “Get it yourself!” Archer snapped. Trip sighed, turning his chair. “I’m sorry, Cap’n! How did I know you didn’t want the Governor to know that story?” In a dark voice Archer growled, “Common sense should have told you that.” “So how long am I in for this time?” Archer held Trip’s gaze with a cool one. “It wasn’t that bad, sir,” Trip said. “Not to mention--” Something on helm started beeping. Trip turned around, working the controls. “I thought the Governor said this route would take us around their mine field,” Trip said. “Did you plot it right?” With rejoinder Trip shot back a “Yes!” Trip shook his head. “Guess they must’ve drifted.” Trip looked up and caught his breath. A mine was dead ahead and they were coming at it at full speed. “Grab onto somethin’!” Trip cried, yanking on the yoke. An explosion lit the back of the shuttle pod up, showering sparks. Trip grabbed the yoke with both hands, struggling to get control of spinning shuttle pod. The shuttle pod struck another mine that made it bank toward the planet below. Alarms went off across helm when the planet’s gravity grabbed the shuttle pod. “Jon, hold on!” Trip yelled. Archer didn’t reply. Trip didn’t have time to wonder why. The shuttle pod was going in too steep and at this angle would burn up before it reached the ground. All of a sudden the shuttle pod pulled out of its plunge and Trip had to consciously remind himself not to overcorrect. He reached out to initiate the thrusters. “One thruster!? We’re gonna crash!” He hit the control for the remaining thruster. Below a desert ran up to a forest. Trip aimed for a large sand dune, praying it was only sand underneath and would help him stop the shuttle pod before it reached the trees. # The shuttle pod plowed through the first sand dune. Friction made the shuttle pod began to lose momentum. The shuttle pod plunged through four more sand dunes, losing more momentum. It shot out of a fifth and hit rocky ground. The uneven ground caused the shuttle pod to flip on its side. It slid to a stop a meter from the tree line. # Archer was first aware of pain in his temple. He opened his eyes. Items from compartments lay scattered around and on him. He climbed to his feet, keeping a hold of something solid to steady himself. He didn’t notice the blood running down his face. It had soaked the collar and shoulder of his uniform. He looked around the shuttle pod. His gut told him there should be someone else, but the shuttle pod was empty. He walked to the top hatch and with great effort climbed out. Archer faced the desert and barren rocky ground. Morning had just risen and the air was cool and alive with birds singing. His head began to swim and he lost his balance, sitting down hard. “Greetings,” someone said. Archer looked up. He looked almost human except his skin was a bright pink and his eyes were a shocking electric blue. An alien in homespun clothes stood before him. Flowers and leaves adorned his clothes and black hair. The satchel slung over his shoulder bulged with a variety of plants. Archer’s eyes drooped closed. The alien crouched down, touching Archer’s bleeding head wound. Archer pulled back when pain surged from the touch. “Are you alone?” “I don’t know.” The alien climbed into the shuttle pod and quickly returned. “It appears you are. Let me take you to get medicine.” Archer didn’t resist the alien pulling him to his feet. They started walking toward the forest. “My head hurts,” Archer muttered, lifting a feeble hand to his injury. “I’m sure it does. You’re thought is very harmed. My designation is Priam. What is yours?” Archer stopped short, staring at the ground. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.” “Where are you from? You aren’t a Zian, you aren’t from this planet.” “I don’t know.” “Hmm. Well, let’s get you to a physician. He will have medicine for your harm and pain.” Archer didn’t reply. The alien pulled him back into a walk. They took two steps and disappeared. # “...to Captain Archer or Commander Tucker.” Trip’s eyes slowly opened. He found himself folded under the helm and buried under items from the compartments in the back. His left arm dully throbbed. He couldn’t see any part of the shuttle except the pilot’s seat Trip moved and cried out when he tried to extend his left arm. “Enterprise to Captain Archer or Commander Tucker, please respond,” Hoshi’s stressed voice said from the companel overhead. Trip got to his feet, standing on a monitor and the wall. He tapped the companel with his right hand. “Yeah. Yeah,” Trip said, “I’m here.” “We’ve locked onto your distress beacon and will be there in an hour. What happened, sir?” “We hit a mine. No, two. Crash landed.” “You’re lucky to be alive,” T’Pol commented. “Tell me about it.” “How is Captain Archer?” “I dunno. Let me check on him.” Trip looked across the shuttle pod. “Hang on a sec.” Trip carefully stepped over the science console and checked under it. He stood, looking around the empty space. Trip patted his pockets and pulled his communicator out of a sleeve pocket, flicking it open. “Trip to Archer.” Trip heard a faint beep and searched for the communicator connected to it. He found it next to a pool of congealing blood. Trip looked up at the open top hatch. “His communicator is in here and the top hatch is open. Let me go check outside and I’ll get back to you ladies.” “We’ll be standing by,” T’Pol said. Trip put his communicator back in his pocket, climbed out of the shuttle pod and searched around it. Archer was nowhere in sight. Trip tapped the controls of the communicator to route communication from shuttle pod’s communication array through it. “He’s not here but I saw some blood inside. Hustle.” “Are you hurt?” “Yeah. I think my arm’s busted.” “Tend to your wound and stay at the shuttle pod.” “I’ll be waiting. Trip out.” Trip snapped his communicator shut, looking around him. |
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