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"Differential" Rating: Most of the story is PG, but expect some seriously R-rated bumps along the way.
Chapter Seven "Whaddya think, T'Pol?" Trip glanced at the Vulcan as they crouched, phase pistols drawn, behind a control panel in the T'Hath's cramped Bridge. Outside, the Andorians' argument was becoming more heated. T'Pol calmly assessed their options, and was about to make a suggestion, when something suddenly caught her attention. She held her hand up, gesturing Trip into silence, and together they attempted to listen in on what the Andorians were saying. "…do you expect us to find him without using our portable scanners? The Vulcan could be anywhere within twenty kilometers of here by now!" "You heard the Dominas as well as I - there's an Earth ship nearby! We've got to keep the interference field in place to prevent them from discovering what we're up to. Besides, if you hadn't let the Vulcan escape in the first place, we wouldn't be in this mess! We'd be parsecs away from this infernal ball of ice by now." "So how do we find him?" "Think, will you? The Vulcan has no food! He'll have to return to his ship eventually, or he'll starve to death out there." "What about the craft we disabled last night?" "What about it? It crashed straight into the mountains. Even if someone survived, they can't leave and they can't warn anyone - not while the interference field is up. Right now we've got more important things to worry about..." Trip turned to T'Pol in the darkness. "At least we know we're still on a rescue mission." He nodded toward the empty chair on the Bridge. T'Pol deduced his meaning. "Nevertheless, our predicament is the same as the Andorians'. How do we find the missing crewman through the interference field?" Trip thought about this a moment, looking around the smashed Bridge. Then something occurred to him. "Hey T'Pol... would it be accurate to say that this ship is designed for spying?" T'Pol's irritation was unexpected. "Why do you continually insist on assuming that Vulcans have duplicitous motives?" "Come on, T'Pol. Your people haven't exactly been up front with Humans over the years. And judging by what happened on P'Jem, I'd say you haven't been up front with a lot of people out here." T'Pol was about to respond more vigorously, when Trip suddenly held up his hand to silence her and peaked outside. The Andorians were searching the area around the wreckage for signs that might lead them to their quarry. Trip knew it wouldn't be long before their own tracks in the snow were found. He turned back to T'Pol with forced patience. "Look... I'm not tryin' to be a jerk here, but I'm not stupid either. This ship is designed for stealth. And the most logical use of stealth is surveillance. Am I right?" Her reply came after a somewhat disgruntled pause. "You are not entirely incorrect..." "So there's got to be a station around here that controls the sensors, right?" T'Pol pointed over his shoulder at a series of darkened panels. Trip checked their condition carefully, pulling off an access panel underneath the controls. Now, we're getting somewhere... He held out his hand to her. "Give me the power cell from your tricorder." If she was surprised at his request, she didn't show it, handing over the small component after removing it carefully from her tricorder. Trip took it without a word and worked silently underneath the console, while T'Pol kept an eye on the intruders. Finally, he made a satisfied sound and tapped a key on the controls. With a quiet hum, the panel came to life. "Voila!" T'Pol quickly sat at the controls and used the T'Hath's sensors to sweep the surrounding area for life signs, as Trip watched over her shoulder. "The T'Hath's sensors are a lot more sensitive than what we have on Enterprise, right? So it's a long shot, but I'm guessing we outta be able to get a faint reading on your friend if he's in the immediate area." "Your reasoning is generally sound, if often so arbitrary as to appear fortuitous." "Think I just get lucky, huh? Well, my Mamma always said fortune smiled upon me. Drives ya crazy, doesn't it?" "Indeed." The console chirped softly and T'Pol checked the display. "There is a weak Vulcan life sign located in a system of caves approximately 2.3 kilometers to the north-northwest of our present location." "Bingo." Trip reached underneath the panel and retrieved the power cell, handing it back to T'Pol. "Now all we need is a distraction." They both glanced outside the ship, to see the trio arguing again near the aft section of the ship. This time it was T'Pol who had an idea. "The Andorians are standing near the upper nacelle ring." Trip glanced at her confused and T'Pol arched an eyebrow. "Directly in front of the plasma vents..." Trip grinned devilishly, getting her meaning. "See? Now you're thinking like a Human..." They silently began moving back down the corridor to the rear of the ship. "I shall endeavor not to be insulted." Along the way, T'Pol opened a storage compartment and located a small backpack filled with survival gear - rations, a medkit and other emergency supplies. She slung it over her shoulder and they continued on. When they reached the small Engineering compartment, they had to take great care not to make any unwanted noise. They were now within just a few meters of the open airlock doors... and well within earshot of the Andorians. T'Pol silently pointed out the appropriate controls in the compartment and Trip nodded. Then she moved close to his ear, speaking in a soft whisper. "We should split up. It would be regrettable if we inadvertently led the Andorians to their quarry." "Agreed. When I give the signal, you slip out and run for the trees. I'll cover you and meet up with you at the caves as soon as I can." "What are you going to do?" Trip hefted his phase pistol pointedly. "I'm gonna create a little distraction." T'Pol looked at him for a moment, then touched his chest shyly. "Please be careful, Commander." Trip took her hand in his and pressed it to his lips with a wry smile. "I love you too. Now get ready..." T'Pol moved to the airlock door and glanced out. As expected, the Andorians were standing right where they were supposed to be. She turned and nodded back to Trip, who winked at her. Then he grabbed the manual vent release and mouthed one word: "Now!" T'Pol jumped out onto the snow and sprinted for the edge of the forest. She heard the startled exclamations of the Andorians, who spotted her within moments. Then she heard a loud HISSING sound as the T'Hath's upper nacelle ring was suddenly purged, engulfing the Andorians in a sizzling cloud of hot plasma. She glanced back briefly and saw Trip running in the opposite direction, and then the thick woods obscured the crash site from her view. Moving to the nearest tree, she quickly snapped off a fair sized branch full of thick bristles. Then she continued on, dragging the branch in the snow behind her in an effort to cover her footsteps. When she felt she'd gone far enough, she tossed the branch away and simply ran as fast as her legs would carry her.
"Oh, no you don't..." Taking careful aim, Trip fired a burst from his phase pistol right into the heart of the plasma cloud. With a blinding flash, the hot gasses ignited, killing both Andorians instantly. Unfortunately, Trip had underestimated the amount of plasma left in the T'Hath's vents. Without warning, the wall of flame blew back into the ship's nacelle ring. Moments later, the wreckage of the Vulcan craft was torn apart in a massive explosion. The blast tossed Trip like a rag doll, sending him flying back into the trees more than thirty yards from where he'd been standing. The last thing he remembered before the darkness engulfed him was a burning sensation on his face and hands. And then nothing.
On its Bridge, the air was pungent with the smell of burning electrical fires. Crewmen hurried around urgently, extinguishing hot spots and re-routing the function of damaged control panels to other stations. Malcolm worked feverishly at Tactical. "That's it, Captain! We're clear. Nothing on the scanners that I can see for at least a parsec in all directions." Archer heaved a sigh of relief. "Well done, Malcolm." He thumbed his intercom. "Bridge to Engineering. Damage report." The frazzled voice of Lieutenant Burke came over the speaker. "We're still picking up the pieces, Captain. But I can tell you that we've lost at least two of the aft hull polarizers, along with most of the back-up generators below C Deck. And the primary plasma conduit to the port nacelle is leaking like a sieve. The polarizers are easy enough to fix, but the nacelle's gonna be a problem." "Do we have warp capability?" "We could make warp one for a few hours, sir, but I wouldn't recommend it. We'd probably burn out the whole nacelle. It'll take at least a day to fix. Maybe more." "Do what you can, Lieutenant." He thumbed the com again. "Bridge to Sickbay. What's our casualty situation, Doctor?" From the sound of Phlox's voice, he was already busy with patients. "Fifteen so far, Captain. All with relatively minor injuries. Some burns, a few broken bones. Crewman Cutler and I have it under control." "Very well. Keep me posted." Hoshi turned to Archer from her station. "Captain, I'm unable to raise either Starfleet or the Vulcans." "Are we still being jammed?" "Not as strongly as before, but there's definitely some lingering interference." Malcolm checked his screens again. "Scanners are still clear, sir. But they were able to remain undetected before..." Archer considered this for a moment and then turned to Ensign Mayweather. "Travis, head for the nearest of the planet's smallest moons. Find a deep crater on the side facing the surface, so we can still keep an eye out for Trip and T'Pol." "Aye, sir." Malcolm saw where this was going. "Thinking of playing a little hide and seek, Captain?" Archer gave a hint of a smile. "If that's their game, we'll just have to beat them at it..."
I love you. His words lingered doggedly in her mind. Her time among the Humans had taught her that the concept of love meant many different things, depending on the context. T'Pol believed that she knew what it meant to Trip - what he was trying to convey when he spoke the words to her - and that knowledge warmed her in a way she had never known before. But like so many Humans, he naively assumed that love was all that mattered in any given situation. That it was some kind of cure-all for any conceivable problem. She was only just beginning to appreciate what the ramifications of their bonding would be, both for her people and for his own. There would be a price to pay for their actions. He either hadn't realized it yet or, more likely, he simply didn't care. T'Pol shivered. Then, with great effort, she forced the growing feeling of dread from her mind. What is done cannot be undone, she told herself finally. It is better simply to focus on the task at hand. As she reached the opening of the cave, the wind was beginning to gust harder and she was glad to find even temporary shelter from its biting chill. The passage itself was narrow and dark. T'Pol took out a small flashlight and began scanning with her tricorder as she made her way inside. Between the interference field and the thick rock, the readings were confusing. But there was definitely a life-form nearby. T'Pol soon passed through a wider chamber and then a second, before the passage turned sharply to the right. Then she heard a noise from around the corner - a scraping of something against the rocks. Stowing her tricorder, she placed a ready hand on her holstered phase pistol and called out in the darkness, speaking in Vulcan. "Do not be alarmed. I am Sub-Commander T'Pol from the Earth starship Enterprise. We heard your distress call and have come to offer our assistance." T'Pol heard another, louder shuffling sound. Moments later, a tall, stately Vulcan man stepped out from hiding in front of her. He was more than twice her age, with an angular face and lightly graying hair. He had a nasty gash on his forehead, clotted with green blood, and his arm hung uselessly at his side. As he approached, he walked with a visible limp. When he finally spoke, it was in English. "It has been many years, T'Pol. I am gratified to see you again." T'Pol recognized the voice immediately and trained her light higher, so she could see his face. "Master Sesslek?" "Indeed, child. You look surprised." T'Pol silently chided herself for her lack of composure. "I... confess, I had not expected to find you here. Are you badly injured?" She pulled out her tricorder and scanned him thoroughly. "My condition is less than optimal, but the discomfort is tolerable." She frowned. "You have sustained numerous fractures. I am detecting internal hemorrhaging. You should not be on your feet." T'Pol hurried over to him and placed his good arm over her shoulder. Sesslek pointed toward the next cavern, and together they slowly made their way to his makeshift camp. A small fire was burning in one corner, its smoke floating lazily up to a tiny hole in the rock ceiling above. A satin cloak was spread on the floor nearby, where he'd obviously been sleeping. T'Pol helped him back to his bed, using her own coat to elevate his feet. Sesslek laid back wearily. "I am grateful for your assistance, child. Do you have water?" "Yes. And food." She poured him a cup from the ration bag, and held it for him. "Drink slowly." When he had finished what he could, he regarded her thoughtfully as she worked to clean the cut on his brow. "You have done well since our last meeting, T'Pol. I've heard reports of your posting to the Earth ship. Your patience with the Humans does you credit." "If the reports were issued by the High Command, I doubt they were favorable. There have been... several missteps. P'Jem, the Tandaran incident, the destruction of the Paraagan colony..." Sesslek dismissed this. "It is to be expected. The Humans are learning. In any case, the surveillance operation on P'Jem was an inadvisable strategic move from the outset. I have always said as much. And the Paraagan colony was destroyed by the Suliban, through no fault of the Humans." T'Pol frowned slightly. "There are many in the High Command who would disagree." "Such is their latest folly." She arched an eyebrow, realizing. "You are part of the Intelligence Directorate." He regarded her patiently. "I can neither confirm or deny." "Of course." T'Pol had served in Intelligence herself, early in her career. She accepted the need for secrecy. The next several minutes passed in companionable silence as T'Pol tended to Sesslek's other injuries, creating a sling to isolate his broken arm and bandaging several ribs. She administered an analgesic for his pain, over his half-hearted protests, and gave him more water. Finally, she sat back. "That is the best I can do with our limited supplies. We will need to get you back to the Enterprise to deal with the bleeding soon. It is quite serious." He acknowledged her concern. "There is nothing to be done of it at the moment. Tell me, child... how is your family? I have not spoken to your father since I was last on Vulcan, more than three years ago. Is he still teaching at the Science Academy?" T'Pol frowned again. "I believe so. I have not spoken with him in nearly as long. My parents did not approve of my assignment to the Consulate on Earth. Nor, I suspect, do they agree with my decision to remain on the Enterprise." Sesslek's eyes twinkled at her in the firelight. "It is the rare parent indeed who finds the choices of their offspring agreeable." Then he looked at her more intently, holding her gaze with his own. His next words caught her off guard. "How long have you been bonded, child?" T'Pol was unable to hide her surprise, though she quickly covered it. Of course he would know. Sesslek had been her mentor at the Vulcan Science Academy, many years before, and was a highly trained mental adept. She hesitated noticeably before answering. "It is... a recent development." Sesslek regarded her further, logically - but incorrectly - deducing the cause of her hesitation. "I do not imagine that Koss has adapted well to life among the Humans." "I am not bonded to Koss." The older man raised a surprised eyebrow of his own. "Indeed? Is there something you wish to tell me, T'Pol?" The moment of truth had arrived. Against all logic, T'Pol chose to forestall it a little longer. "You should rest now. It may be hours before we can return to the shuttlepod, and then to the Enterprise." Sesslek knew she was being evasive, but decided to allow his former protégé her secrets for the time being. With more patience than T'Pol would have expected, he closed his eyes and began meditating. For a long time, T'Pol simply gazed into the fire, attempting meditation of her own. But the soothing embrace of serenity would not come. Inevitably, her thoughts turned once more to Trip. Try as she might, she couldn't dismiss the nagging feeling that something had gone wrong. Find your way to me safely, Charles...
When he'd collected himself as much as was possible, Trip hauled himself to his feet, pulled out his tricorder and lurched off unsteadily in the direction he hoped he'd find T'Pol. Twenty minutes later, he'd only covered about a kilometer when the world started spinning. Another twenty minutes after that, he was struggling through the rugged terrain when his vision blurred and he began retching. As an engineer, he knew better than anyone what that mean - he was experiencing the very early symptoms of plasma toxicosis. And that was bad. Not just crappy day at work bad, or "Ah hell, my baseball team lost the Series" bad... but Bad with a capital "B". Ultimate Bad. But bad or not, Trip was exhausted. He had to rest, even if just for a moment, so he laid down in the snow. As the world spun out of control around him, Trip struggled to remember what equipment they'd taken when they'd left the shuttlepod a few hours earlier. He thought he recalled that T'Pol had grabbed the pod's small Starfleet issue medkit. Trip fervently hoped that T'Pol hadn't dropped it inadvertently along the way. For if his luck held out, the kit would contain a tiny dose of bellamide oxide that could save his life. But he had to get to it soon. Which meant that he had to find T'Pol soon, or he was going to die. Trip struggled to get to his feet, but found that the best he could do was push up onto his hands and knees. Okay... no problem, he told himself silently, trying to remain calm. If I gotta crawl, so be it. He fumbled in the snow until he found his tricorder and took a scan, trying to get his bearings. But nothing appeared on the screen - the tricorder wasn't working. He banged on it with his hand, which had absolutely no effect. Then he realized that it wasn't the device... his vision had simply blurred to the point that he could no longer read the screen. To make matters worse, the sun was already setting over the mountain peaks, making it harder to judge direction. And the temperature was dropping fast. Anger began to set in... Just how short are the days on this fucking ice cube, anyway?! And then came the panic. Trip had no idea how far he'd come, or which was the right direction to go from here. His communicator was useless, he couldn't read his tricorder... and now he could no longer walk. He was going to die on this God forsaken planet. And the worst thing of all was that if he died, T'Pol's life might be forfeit as well because of their bond. That terrible thought is all that kept him going. Desperate and running on empty, Trip began dragging himself, painfully, over the rocks and snow.
Dominas Shirv the Fifth flipped up his helmet visor and scanned the stain with his portable sensor stick. The DNA analysis was quick, confirming what he already suspected. This was Human blood. As Andorians went, Shirv was not the patient sort. As the former heir apparent to one of the most powerful clans back home on Andoria, he was used to his orders being followed quickly and efficiently, and he was used to getting exactly what he wanted. When this didn't happen, others paid the price for it, usually with their lives. And now, not only had Shirv's Vulcan quarry escaped with his prize, three of his men were dead and one of his best frigates had been destroyed in space. Not that the latter were particularly valuable to him - men were the cheapest commodity of all and Shirv could afford to replace the ship a hundred times over. A thousand even. No... it was the principle of the thing that mattered. The Humans were standing between Shirv and that which he wanted. His course of action was therefore clear. Right here, right now... this Human was going to pay with his life. And when Shirv's reinforcements arrived, the rest of the red-bloods would be sent to their deaths as well. But first things first. The Dominas had always enjoyed the thrill of the hunt, since before the sport was outlawed on his world - one more decision by the current leadership that he didn't agree with. Shirv vowed that he would one day return home and set things right again. In the meantime, his only regret here was that this pathetic Human was leaking its DNA everywhere - tracking it would be too easy. No matter though... the kill would more than make up for it. It always did. With an ominous smile, the Andorian raised his disruptor rifle and set off in search of his prey. |
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