|
"Cry Havoc"
By MissAnnThropic
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: None of its mine. I’m just a sad little fangirl that spends her days writing fanfic and watching taped episodes of my favorite shows. :(
Description: The evolution of Trip and T’Pol’s relationship following the events in ‘Harbinger’.
Chapter 18
Archer burst on to the bridge and like uncontrollable floodwaters Trip and T'Pol were close behind. Porthos trotted after the trio of humanoids and once on the bridge looked around in concern. Considering the urgency of the summons, Archer had spared no time to return his dog to his ready room or quarters and Porthos had followed loyally, though now on the bridge (and knowing he wasn't allowed) seemed disquieted by his trespass.
Archer stepped down toward his chair, where the night-shift commander, Lieutenant Whitman, was sitting. Whitman immediately vacated the seat even as she reported, "The distress call came through just as I was telling you about detecting the ship. We don't have visual yet."
Archer took his chair and turned to the communications station. "What does the distress call say?"
"It's an automated distress, sir. No details, just reference to sustained damage."
Archer nodded grimly and detected out of the corner of his eye T'Pol assuming the science officer station with just as little courtesy toward the current shift's man as the Vulcan tended toward in such instances. The night-shift duty men at their posts around him watched their captain as well as their consoles. Archer couldn't see Trip but imagined him standing back, out of the way, just as curious and anxious. Technically Trip was unnecessary on the bridge, but at the moment Archer was thankful for one more senior officer among the midnight crew.
Archer understood the reasoning in an automated distress, too, even if it was vague and, at the moment, frustrating. It was just as likely to be picked up by a foe as a friendly, and in enemy territory any more detail as to their condition than was necessary was a tactical error. At least, Archer hoped that the Ares was just playing it conservative rather than so damaged that no one was conscious or alive to send a personalized distress call.
"Let's risk trying to raise them," Archer thought aloud, then nodded toward the communications specialist. "Ensign, open a hailing frequency."
The ensign did as asked then nodded toward the captain. Archer had gotten to his feet without realizing he'd moved. "This is Captain Archer of the Starship Enterprise, please respond, Ares."
A silence followed, consuming the bridge, before a female voice spoke, "This is Comman–Captain Jasmine of the Ares. Archer, it's good to hear from you."
Archer blinked once then recovered his stride. "Captain... what happened to your ship? Status?"
The woman paused a moment then answered, "I'd rather not say over an open channel. You'll have to come to us, our warp capabilities at the moment are... limited."
'She means shot,' Archer thought, but didn't say openly.
"Very well, we should be at your location in..." he glanced toward the acting pilot.
"I'd say an hour, sir."
"An hour. Can you hold out that long?"
Another pause. "No problem."
'She doesn't know... it has to be bad.' Archer nodded. "Enterprise out." When the comms were closed he turned to his beta-shift pilot. "Coax all you can out of her, Ensign."
"Aye, sir."
Archer sat down heavily. Apparently everyone on the bridge had read between the lines of that communication with the Ares. He doubted anyone had forgotten that Chief Engineer Jasmine was two men removed from command of the ship, as well.
*****
The Enterprise was still ten minutes out when the Ares was within visual sensor range. Other than a sensor sweep to search for any hostile forces nearby, the bridge of the Enterprise had been tensely inactive and quiet. Trip was gone, probably ensconced in engineering trying to seduce a little more speed out of the warp core. The beta-shift science worker became a wandering phantom at the periphery of Archer's vision, T'Pol thoroughly planted at her alpha-shift position and the dutiful but now unnecessary beta-shift operator remaining on the bridge until ordered otherwise (though he didn't seem to know what to do with himself without a task). The rest of the beta-shift remained; Archer had decided to stick with his current bridge crew rather than roust his senior officers out of sleep. Each was qualified and capable, and the captain needed to show his lower-ranked crew he trusted them, too. Porthos, neglected and forgotten in the worrisome moment, was lying against the wall at the back of the room watching everyone.
As soon as he was told the Ares was in range, Archer ordered it on screen. After an horrendously long fifty minutes, the chance for any change in their holding pattern was a welcome reprieve.
Everyone gaped at the sight. The NX Ares, in so many ways a masculine mirror image of Enterprise, was limping through space at impulse. Her left warp nacelle was dark and dead, the right flickering blue light and trailing plasma. Scorch marks and blast carbon-bursts smudged starburst patterns on the previously pristine gray hull, making a merle complexion of the ship's tones. Half the ship was dark, the inside lighting either completely gone or on emergency backup. The biggest sign of damage, however, was the structural damage. The left side of the saucer had a crescent-shaped chunk taken out of it, fully extending three decks inward, as though a giant shark had bitten into it. A perfect hole had been blasted through the ship, so close to the bridge housing that it made Archer's stomach flip.
"Umm... we're being hailed," the communications worker said meekly.
Archer only nodded.
The grisly scene on the viewer was replaced by another. Captain Jasmine on the bridge, which was dimmed to emergency power blue, yet even that didn't hide the garish lacerations on her face, the haggard weariness making her seem like a tortured ghost. Behind her, Archer could see the disarray of a wrecked bridge; consoles lifeless, steam venting, sparks spitting angrily.
"Captain Archer."
"Jasmine... what happened to your ship?"
Jasmine almost sagged. "I'll give you a full report, but before that we need you to render aide. Our life support is getting twitchy and my crew needs medical attention... more than our medical facilities can accommodate."
"Of course. Are either of your docking ports viable?"
Jasmine had to think. "Maybe... there's only a little damage to the port one; I could probably patch it enough to hold atmosphere."
"Then do it, and we'll get you some help."
*****
When the docking ports between the two ships were finally open it became an influx of walking and carried wounded on to Enterprise. It looked like pictures of the refugee camps from World War III Archer had seen in school, personnel charred, beaten, and weak. Even still, the glint of determination, of the no surrender sentiment, flickered the same in the eyes of the Ares crew.
The moment the two ships were connected Trip and a team of his engineers went over and made their way to the Ares engine room. Now-Captain Jasmine looked torn for a moment, clearly wanting to accompany the engineering team, but in the end she stayed with her administrative duties. Archer had the good grace to wait long enough for Jasmine to establish a flow of her wounded crew being helped to Enterprise's sickbay before he chose to step in and pull the woman aside.
Jasmine tensed at Archer's touch, but the Enterprise captain doubted it had anything to do with Jasmine's opinion of Archer personally. The MACO officer looked strung taut, weary and jumpy from fighting then being on the run from their common enemy.
"Do you need to see Doctor Phlox before we begin?" Archer asked her gently.
Jasmine waved off her head wounds, a dried trail of blood against her skin, and grunted, "This is nothing; there are more people hurt a lot worse."
Archer nodded understanding and guided Captain Jasmine toward his ready room to get the full story of the Ares's mission. Archer offered Jasmine a drink, a bottle of water and a rag to clean her face, then sat down to listen to the report. By the time Jasmine finished, Archer was calling an emergency meeting of his department heads.
*****
The situation room, where once the two crews had shared an admittedly tense meal, was now far from casual. Archer looked around at his gathered officers. Phlox could not be spared from infirmary duty, and Trip was practically humming with impatience to get back to tending the Ares's critical engines. It had nearly been a fight to wrest Trip from his work for this meeting. Reed and T'Pol seemed to be the only two maintaining a calm exterior. Jasmine, the only Ares crewman present, sat on the end of the table opposite Archer.
The captain of the wounded ship had recovered a great deal of her steely grace and faced Archer's recriminating stare point-blank.
Archer figured if he didn't get started soon Trip would chew through the table.
"We have a situation, people." Archer looked at his officers, then back at Jasmine.
Jasmine took it as a silent cue. "I've already debriefed Captain Archer on the details of the Ares mission after we broke from Enterprise weeks ago.
"Short version... we found the Xindi. We learned where they were keeping the weapon under construction but we also found a lot more than that. Ensign Sato was able to translate a lot of the comm traffic between Xindi stations and ships and we got wind of a pretty big eruption brewing between the different species. A lot of the details we couldn't gather, but the reptilians and the insectoids were mentioned quite a bit, with much concern."
"Did ya destroy the weapon?" Trip asked impatiently, glowering at Jasmine.
Jasmine turned calm, tired eyes to him. "We didn't have to. We were conducting surveillance on the space port where they were keeping it, trying to decide our best angle of attack, when out of nowhere a fleet of Xindi reptilian and insectoid ships appeared and fired on the weapon. THEY destroyed it."
Reed sat forward. "What?"
"From the intelligence we could decipher, the other species of Xindi were starting to distrust the reptilians and the insectoids, something about their totalitarian tendencies... I don't really know." She allowed a small sigh. "The reptilians and insectoids, a paranoid pair to begin with, started to suspect their own council of conspiring against them. Reptilian and insectoid troops were the main units slated to fight the humans of Earth... the bugs and lizards got suspicious of the resource allocations. Even with the combined military might of the two military-oriented Xindi species, in the council, they were outnumbered, and they didn't seem to like that much. We put together that the reptilians and the insectoids were afraid that after the war against Earth, when their numbers were weeded and their forces weakened, the other Xindi on the council would turn the weapon against them. The reptilians and insectoids attacked first and completely destroyed the weapon.
"It was only the first. They hit military facilities of the other represented council species, they engaged their ships... it's all-out civil war."
Archer continued the recount, "Between all the Xindi species. Those explosions you registered on your sensors, T'Pol; apparently they are the energy signatures of massive explosions. Reptilians and insectoids were better skilled at compensating for the distortions caused by the spheres. To eliminate that advantage, the other Xindi species have been systematically destroying them, the expanse as we know it with them."
"But you didn't manage to avoid combat entirely," Reed observed.
"No," Jasmine frowned. "We went head to head with the Xindi. We lost more than we won." She seemed greatly embittered to confess that. "Half the crew... Captain Dalin, Hayes, Afton, Garret, Chang... so many. Those that survived are wounded... if you hadn't received our distress call we would have all died within two standard days when life support systems failed."
"Two days at best," Archer amended.
"Hoshi?" Trip asked the question with trepidation.
Jasmine tightened her lips and shook her head. "She died in the last attack, the one that crippled the ship. I'm sorry."
Stunned silence, grief, swept across the table as each Enterprise crewman digested the news of Hoshi's death.
Archer allowed a moment, but could allow no more. "We have a more immediate problem." He shot a glare at Jasmine. "It seems the good captain has left some of her people behind."
Jasmine met Archer's gaze squarely, hotly. "Captain Archer, I did what I thought was necessary for Starfleet."
"You abandoned an away team in hostile territory."
"Cap'n," Trip interjected, a little shakily in wake of the news of Hoshi's fate, but for the current line of conversation confused.
Archer seethed. "Before they made their run from the front lines of this Xindi civil war the Ares was attacked and boarded by a reptilian cruiser."
"It was when Ensign Sato was killed, trying to protect the ship's computer. The Xindi cannibalized part of our main processor and may have made off with information about Earth and Starfleet that was stored in our data banks."
"May?" Reed said.
Jasmine nodded. "We followed the ship to a small planet where they had set up a temporary base of operations where they could possibly analyze the information they may have taken from Ares. The base was shielded, so we couldn't scan, transport, or fire into it. Then-Captain Williams organized a strike team to go down, assess the risk to Earth, and destroy the facility and any sensitive information with it.
"The team was Williams, Slade, Cole, and Douglas. They went down and we stayed in orbit to monitor their mission, render orbital support if possible. Two other reptilian cruisers came up on us, took us by surprise. They ripped us up and we were about to get blown out of the sky. I made the call to pull out and head for Earth."
"You ran and left your people," Archer accused darkly.
"I knew we were losing the fight, and I decided my first duty was to get news of the Xindi civil war and the destruction of the weapon to Earth; that was first priority. Don't think it was an easy choice, Captain."
Archer took stock of his officers and saw distaste on their expressions (save T'Pol). It seemed he wasn't the only one who saw dishonor in that action. Even if Archer saw logic in it. His eyes moved involuntarily to T'Pol and wondered what she thought of the other captain's action... then decided he didn't want to know. He couldn't listen to cool Vulcan logic condoning the abandonment of members of a ship's crew, evoking that 'needs of the many' tenet the Vulcans loved so much. It would make him sicker than he already felt.
"Well, there's a fully stocked, fully functional starship on the scene now, and we're not about to leave possible survivors in hostile Xindi territory."
"Captain," Jasmine stated, "the team is likely dead. If not and they managed to destroy the base then they're not in any immediate danger and are lying low waiting for rescue."
"Which has just arrived. Reed, I want you to work with the Ares tactical officer and come up with a rescue plan, and, if necessary, a plan to destroy that base. Trip, get the Ares on its feet as fast as you can. It doesn't have to be pretty, just enough to get it home with room to spare. As soon as she can sustain herself we're going to break off and head after that strike team."
A round of "aye, sir"s followed his proclamation and his officers scattered to do his bidding.
*****
T'Pol was working in the command center with Lieutenant Reed, intently studying the data the Ares had complied. On the main screen of the combat-oriented room was everything that the other ship's crew had on the planet where four of its people were possibly trapped. Extrapolated facility schematics, gleaned from what little information the on-planet team had been able to relay before they passed into the scope of the base's sensor shielding, details about the planet surface and environment, as well as intel on the type of vessel they had followed there and the ones that had ambushed the Ares.
Reed was focused with single-minded attention on his work, T'Pol to him a mere background nuisance as the British officer pondered and assimilated. To other humans on Enterprise Reed's sometimes brusque dismissal that he was currently giving T'Pol offended, but T'Pol was beyond such offense. She knew Lieutenant Reed was thinking, planning, running through possible scenarios, and she went about her own tasks silently to afford him better concentration.
As she did so, she was beginning to suspect perhaps one of the many reasons a human/Vulcan union was not a readily logical match. Trip was distressed. His untrained mind fairly broadcasted to her, and she could not quiet her mate's emotions in her mind. T'Pol could almost literally taste his grief about Ensign Sato, the tidal currents of human emotion lapping at her cool Vulcan poise. There was also true concern for Corporal Cole burning like acidic bile, the female MACO's fate unknown on a Xindi-controlled world. His fear for her was the genuine concern for a friend; Trip was afraid to find her hurt, or worse. Despite his claim T'Pol was once 'jealous' of this woman, T'Pol did not begrudge Trip this concern for the corporal's welfare. There was also a rushed, hurried sense as Trip was cobbling together the Ares engines so they would sustain the ship long enough to reach Sol.
Even then, amid emotional upheaval, T'Pol sensed methodical stillness, steadiness, in him. His work on the engines, though hurried, was beyond reproach. The determination in him, the unwillingness to concede defeat or fail his fellow man, was a calming effect, just holding the wilder emotions he exuded from erupting past control.
Trip was, T'Pol knew and reaffirmed as she worked, an exceptional human. Perhaps more correctly, humans were an exceptional species because Trip Tucker was NOT exceptional among them. Vulcan High Command had no concept of the insights T'Pol now possessed, and the rather startling revelations it illuminated on the human race.
Lieutenant Reed let out a strained sigh and T'Pol glanced in his direction, concerned he may be unwell from the waver to his exhale. She caught what she was certain was a private moment of grief breaking through the human tactical officer's control. Reed and Sato had been friends, T'Pol knew. Reed's chin dipped toward his chest, his shoulders tensed, then his head snapped back up and he was resolutely studying the displayed information again.
T'Pol returned to her work and gave no mention to Lieutenant Reed's emotional pain. All the humans on Enterprise had reacted adversely to the news of Hoshi's death; now T'Pol had a unique perspective from which to appreciate the impact it could have on human thoughts.
The door to the command center hissed open and T'Pol and Reed both looked up to see Corporal Temoure step inside. Temoure was now the acting tactical officer aboard the Ares. After he had turned over to Reed all the pertinent information about the planet where the strike team was MIA he'd reported to Enterprise's sickbay to have his wounds tended. His jaw, from chin almost to his left ear, sported a sutured, angry wound, and the young man's complexion looked pasty. Obviously his wounds were not extensive enough for him to remain in sickbay, or he'd been insistent about returning to duty and Phlox, overtaxed, had let him go.
"I've been looking at this," Reed addressed Temoure without preamble and gestured toward the data on the view screen. "Your strike team went down to set explosive charges at the facility... do you have any information on how far they got? The data here only goes to when you lost communication with them after they passed through the shield's terminator."
Temoure stepped further into the room, cut an unreadable look to T'Pol, then came alongside the Enterprise tactical officer. "We don't know. Maybe they were caught out before they reached the base perimeter, maybe they laid the charges partially, completely, maybe they detonated the charges after we'd already left." Temoure shrugged and Reed took a split second to take note of the other man's attire. Apparently his new Starfleet/MACO uniform had been a hopeless cause because Temoure was wearing a blue one-piece Enterprise uniform (void of a department stripe or command pips).
"Well, I imagine we'll know soon enough when we get there."
"If we get there and the shielding is still up... it'll narrow down the possibilities by a few."
Reed glanced sharply at Temoure at his dour tone. "You don't think they're alive, do you?"
Temoure glowered wearily. "I don't think there's a reasonable chance they survived. Even if the Xindi at the facility didn't kill them, even if they survived the explosion, they were still in enemy territory and we left two Xindi ships behind that could provide reinforcement to the base. I'd love to think they made it, but that won't change anything... certainly not the odds. Everyone on the strike team knew it was probably a suicide mission; they volunteered anyway."
"Well, let's not count them out just yet, Corporal," Reed said sourly.
Temoure's words were laced with days of grief, days of losing friends and coworkers at disarming speed. "Chase ghosts if you want to, Lieutenant."
T'Pol wasn't sure what spurred her, but before she could analyze her behavior she had turned and taken two steps closer to the two humans. Both men turned their attention to her, Reed merely curious and attentive, Temoure guarded and wary.
"Until incontrovertible proof of their deaths has been discovered the chance they are alive is a possibility we cannot ignore."
Temoure looked strangely, almost in confused disgust, at T'Pol. "A Vulcan preaching hope?"
T'Pol saw Reed, from the corner of her eye, glaring at the MACO, chin up and chest swollen proudly. That human spirit that T'Pol had come to know in these humans on Enterprise, that perhaps she herself had come to believe in, almost radiated from the tactical officer. T'Pol was still a scientist, still a Vulcan, but this crew had shown her things to make even a skeptic like herself believe in impossible saves, what they called 'miracles'.
"In dealing with humans, I have learned that conservative pessimism greatly underestimates most of your species." T'Pol, surprised she'd said anything, much less with so much hidden conviction, turned back to her work. Reed was smirking, and Temoure had the good sense not to rise to the challenge and try to out-argue the Vulcan. He finally turned to help Reed with the rescue plans as though realizing that, veiled in T'Pol's rebuttal, was also a compliment.
*****
Captain Archer picked his way through the heavily damaged NX Ares. If the familiarity of the ship before was disconcerting, to walk through it now in shambles was eerie. So little and this could be Enterprise, a sight Archer hoped to never see.
Most the of Ares crew was on Enterprise... at least what remained of the crew.
Archer reached his destination, engineering, and found Trip Tucker hard at work on the warp injectors. The young southerner's face, hands, and uniform were sooty and dirty. Where Trip managed to pick up that kind of dirt in a twenty-second century engine room was beyond Archer. The Enterprise captain recognized additional crewmen from his ship scurrying busily around the other ship's engineering center, many of them just as filthy as their leader. The Ares engineers were hard at work, side by side with the Enterprise team. It still looked like a god-awful mess to Archer, but he'd wait until Trip said so to pass judgment.
"Trip," Archer said as he neared the younger man.
Trip looked up at Archer, sighed, then stepped back and launched into his report. "Just about finished here, Cap'n."
"She'll make it back to Earth?"
Trip glanced around at the disarrayed engineering section. "It's not pretty but it'll get her there. We've had to completely realign the warp core, there's a crack in the dilithium matrix a good three inches long; she won't get more than warp two point six, and it'll be a bumpy ride. The Ares chief engineer is gonna need to watch this intermix ratio like a hawk."
"As long as the Ares can survive without us."
"She'll do that, Captain." Trip said with certainty. He stopped and looked closely and pointedly at his old friend. Determination, fire, burned in Trip's gaze. Archer knew Trip well enough to know all that that look meant.
Archer nodded. "Pull back your team and we'll prepare to disembark."
Trip needed not another word of encouragement. The order went out for everyone to wrap up what they were working on and report back to Enterprise.
*****
For the second time two sister ships parted ways. In a mirror-image flip of the first instance, on the second separation the sleek older ship pushed further into space while the younger vessel vectored toward the two ships' common home. Within seconds of each other, both ships vanished in streaks of blue faster-than-light jumps.
Back to Chapter 17
Continue to Chapter 19
|
