A Life Worth Living - Chapter 6

A LIFE WORTH LIVING

By Gabi

Rating: PG-13

Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst

Summary: What if both Trip and Sim had survived the transplantation? Takes place during Similitude

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't own the characters and I don't make any money with this story.

~~~

Chapter 6

Silently, they covered the rest of the distance. It didn't take them more than half an hour to walk the two kilometers to the crashed Xindi craft, but they all were beginning to have problems with the humid air. Sim was looking pale and Trip was starting to worry about him. Although Sim's mind remembered the air in Florida, his body didn't. He had lived his whole life in the artificial atmosphere of Enterprise and wasn't used to the damp surroundings. And up to now he had never had to walk such a long distance, regardless of his memories of training and missions. Trip snorted inwardly. Sim remembered the hikes Trip had undertaken in his youth and the football matches during which Trip had been running across the field until he had been out of breath and panting, he also remembered the strenuous Starfleet training where he had to walk long distances in difficult terrain, but Sim's legs hadn't done any of this. They had only walked along the corridors of Enterprise and had probably never really run before. Trip cursed himself for not thinking of this before.

"What's up?" Trip startled when Sim addressed him.

"Nothin'. Why do you ask?"

"Maybe because I know you?" Sim chuckled. "I know that expression, Trip. You were thinkin' about somethin' troublin'. 'Bout me maybe?"

"Nope." Trip said. "Why don't you give me the backpack? You've carried it long enough."

Sim grinned. "So you were thinkin' about me. Don't worry, I'm okay."

"You're not used to this kind of exertion, Sim. Rememberin' somethin' and actually doin' it aren’t quite the same thing'"

"That's right, but I'm fine. And besides, you and Malcolm seem to be sweatin' as well." He smiled a little. "I'm okay, Trip, really. No need to mollycoddle me."

Trip thought about it, then nodded in defeat. "'Kay."

Malcolm, who had already been a few steps ahead, waited for them. "I think we're there. Have a look over here."

Sim whistled through his teeth when he spotted the remains of the vessel lying under a group of trees about thirty meters to the right. "It's only the rear section."

Trip's eyes widened. The vessel had been torn apart when it was crashing through the trees and it looked as if a giant had ripped it into pieces. He looked around. "Where's the front section?"

"There it is." Malcolm pointed to the opposite direction, up to the tree tops. When Sim and Trip looked up, they could see a very shattered shuttlefront hanging in the trees.

"Ouch!" Trip bit his lip. "You think the crew could have survived this?"

"Let's find out." Sim took the scanner. "No lifesigns."

"Of course not." With his hand, Malcolm protected his eyes against the sunlight as he looked up. "I don't think they would stay there."

"An injured crew might not have another choice but to wait for rescue," Trip took Sim's side. "It's also possible that we'll find their corpses. Does anyone have an idea which Xindi species the vessel is from?"

Malcolm pursed his lips. "It's difficult to say, but I think it looks like the vessel the humanoid Xindi arrived with on the planet where the kemocite was processed, although it is a lot smaller. I doubt that more than two people could fit in there."

"I agree," Sim said with a disappointed grimace. "You really think this could be a military vessel?"

"I don't know. Let's have a look at the database." Trip turned around. "Let's begin with the rear section. Perhaps we'll find what we're lookin' for without havin' to climb up the trees."

######

Standing in front of the rear section, Trip glanced at Sim, knowing perfectly well what his double was thinking. Sim nodded. "Won't be easy."

This part of the shuttle had formerly been approximately two and a half meters in height. However, it had been compressed by the impact to a height of one and a half meters at the most. Broken beams and shattered rods were blocking their way into the ship. Frowning, Trip opened the backpack to get out a plasma torch.

"Be careful," Malcolm advised. "The wreck doesn't look very stable."

Trip looked at the broken bulkheads. They made the remains of the vessel look like the dented tin cans he used to kick along the streets of his hometown.

"Perhaps we should support the bulkheads somehow?" Sim suggested. He pointed at one beam. "If we cut this loose we could use it as a support for the ceiling."

"Do you really think that's necessary?" Trip asked. "I only want to crawl inside and have a look at that instrument array in the rear."

A dangerously creaking sound, however, made him change his mind very quickly. "Okay, let's get to work on the beam."

With their united efforts they managed to stabilize the vessel's roof. Then Trip worked his way inside the ship. Dust covered the floor, as well as a slimy substance that smelled like old oil, and there were torn circuits hanging down from every bulkhead. Trip checked them to see whether they still carried electricity. It was quite improbable, but Trip didn't want to take the risk of ending up as fried engineer. Using the plasma torch, he cut through a few rods in order to be able to get into the rear end. The torch only made the already oppressive air warmer, and the dust he was stirring up started making him cough. Being forced to crouch down on the ground and to work with his arms raised above his head most of the time didn't make his job easier. Wearily, he ran his hand over his face.

"How are things going?" Malcolm asked from outside.

"I'm finished here. Should be possible to get through by now."

"Okay, let me do the rest of the job," Sim said. "You come out and rest for a while."

Trip didn't object. He crawled backwards, taking care so that he wouldn't get speared by the broken rods jutting from the bulkheads.

Sim offered him a bottle of water, grinning at Trip's dusty appearance.

Malcolm smiled as well. "I guess it's a good thing that we have to go back through the water," he joked.

"That bad?" Trip asked, running his hand over his face once more and smearing mud and dust all over it.

"Doesn't matter." Sim patted Trip's shoulder. "Anythin' interestin' in there?"

"I can't tell. It looks more like an exploration vessel than a military one. Most of the equipment is shattered beyond recognition. I don't think anythin' is workin'."

"I'll have a look all the same," Sim decided.

Trip and Malcolm watched as he got to his knees and crawled inside the pod.

"It's amazing," Malcolm said. "He moves exactly like you do."

Trip nodded, taking another big gulp of water. "What did you expect? He's my clone, a perfect copy of me."

Malcolm pursed his lips. "Not so perfect a copy, I think. He's developing a personality of his own."

"He's had different experiences influencing him. He thought he would die, and being still alive is a gift that changed him." Trip smiled. "But you're right, he moves in exactly the same way I do. It's very interestin' for me to simply watch him."

"I can imagine." With an inquiring glance, Malcolm looked at the bottle of water and Trip handed it over to him. "I think you can learn a lot about yourself by doing so."

"Yeah." Trip looked down at his hands. "It was awkward at first, but I'm gettin' used to it. But I have to admit I was scared as hell when I woke up from the coma and found that I'd been replaced by a clone."

Malcolm put down the bottle. "You think Sim was created to replace you? You're absolutely wrong, Trip. The only purpose of cloning you was to save you."

"Yes, I know," Trip said softly. "But…"

"But it is not easy to accept that you could have been replaced so easily," Malcolm guessed. He looked at Trip. "I can assure you that would never have been the case. You would have been painfully missed. Not only by your engineering crew but also by your friends

"Thanks, Mal." Trip smiled sadly. "I heard that you visited me."

"Whenever I could, Trip. I could never bring myself to believe that you were going to die. I never dared to think about what life on Enterprise would be without you. Sim is a nice person and I'm sure he is a good friend as well, but he would never have been able to replace you. Because Mr. Tucker, although you have been cloned, you're unique."

Trip smiled, but didn't get a chance to answer because Sim crawled back out of the wreck. "You were right, Trip, I couldn't find any useful information there."

"So we still have to do the climbin' thing," Trip said less than enthusiastically.

"I can do it, if you want," Malcolm offered.

"Nah, you're the security officer, you have to take care that the corn poppies won't attack us." With raised eyebrows, Malcolm looked at him and Trip smiled. "Thanks for your offer, Malcolm, but it is my job to look for the database."

"Or mine," Sim said.

"You've done your share already, Sim. The rest's up to me."

Sim patted Trip's shoulder. "C'mon, Trip, it's not that you don't like climbing trees. We spent more time in the trees in our garden than at our desk."

Trip laughed out loud, causing Malcolm to raise his eyebrows. "Instead of doin' my homework I used to sneak out the window and climb down the old oak tree that stood there," Trip explained. "It was the perfect way to get out unnoticed. It really worked, although I always had the distinct feelin' that my mother knew what I was doin'. But as long as I did well in school, she didn't say anythin'." He sobered up. "Sim is right, I'm pretty good at climbing trees." Trip frowned. Truth be told, every time he looked up at the Xindi vessel looming overhead, he got a nasty feeling.

#####

It was ridiculously easy to climb up the tree. There were so many branches that Trip that it was like going up a step ladder. The only tricky thing was to get into the shuttle itself. Its torn opening stuck about half a meter into the air and he had to lean out over open air for a moment in order to reach it. He lost his footing and for an eternal second he thought he would fall. Heart racing, he heard the scared calls from his friends and hurried to assure them that he was okay. Trip swallowed. Falling six meters to the ground wouldn't be an ideal way to finish the job. He had to be careful.

Although from below the vessel had looked fairly stable, Trip could now see that it was perilously perched in the fork of two branches. Malcolm had suggested that they somehow secure the vessel, but they hadn't been able to come up with a way of doing so. Trip now wished that they’d taken more time with the idea. He could tell that the ship’s weight was bearing down on the branches supporting it, and he just didn’t know what the vessel would do if he added his weight to the strain. He calculated the risk and decided that he might be all right if he was careful. He grasped a beam that protruded from the opening and pulled slightly. The beam was stable and the vessel didn't move. So Trip got a good hold on the beam, reached for the vessel's edge and pushed himself off the branch on which he was standing. With an elegant turn he hauled himself inside the small craft, sighing in relief when he realized that he had managed to do so without hurting himself on the jagged edges.

"I'm in," he called loud enough so that Sim and Malcolm could hear him, "and it looks good."

Trip nodded in approval when he looked around the alien shuttlepod. The machinery wasn't as damaged as the ones in the rear section.

Looking around the cramped space, Trip was relieved that there were no alien corpses sitting in the seats. He assumed that the crew had been rescued by another ship. Trip sat down, studying the alien devices. As far as he could tell most of them had short-circuited, and some of the relays were melted and burned out, but Trip was confident that he could bring the computer to life again. He rummaged in his pockets where he had stuffed away all the tools he might need.

Trip turned until he could look down to where Sim and Malcolm were standing on the ground below him. "This could take a while," he reported. "Just go and sit somewhere under the trees. I'll call you if I need some help."

At their answering nod, he returned to work. "Okay," he muttered to the computer. "Let's see if you're goin' to reveal your secrets."

Trip loved tampering with alien computers. Soon he had forgotten about where he was working and began to shift around carelessly. Suddenly, however, he froze when the vessel gave a squeaking sound and a tremor ran through it. The craft wavered only slightly, but it was definitely loosing its hold on the trees. Trip inhaled sharply. He had to remember that it was only the fork of two branches holding the craft in place and he had to move with caution.

"Trip?" he heard Malcolm's voice. "Is everything okay? I thought the vessel was moving."

"I'm fine," Trip shouted. "Don't worry, I'm nearly done. I've got access to the database."

Trip started the download onto a padd. He couldn't make anything out of the data, but supposed that Hoshi would be able to figure it out. He only hoped the data would be helpful in their case. It took him some time to bypass the security program, but finally Trip had free access. With a confident smirk he stowed the padd in his arm pocket. He'd just started to disconnect the power source when the vessel suddenly tilted backwards and Trip lost his footing. Falling on the floor, he heard a menacing groan from the bulkheads. Then he heard a branch snap.

Forget about the power source, Trip thought. Get out! He scrambled to his feet, the movement making the shuttle tilt even more.

"Trip! Get outta there! The vessel's comin' down." Sim's voice was full of fear and Trip doubled his efforts. Briefly, he thought about his escape route. If he tried to climb down the tree the vessel would fall right on his head. It would be better to climb up even farther and to wait until the vessel had crashed down.

He was almost to the exit when he heard more branches break. Almost at once the craft crashed about thirty centimeters downwards, sending Trip to the floor again. Gaining speed, he slid towards the edge, desperately trying to get hold of something to stop his fall, but he only managed to cut his palm on a sharp rail. He could hear his friends shout in alarm, but he couldn't understand their words. He felt his legs going over the edge and knew it was inevitable that he would fall six meters down to the ground. His last thought was that Sim would take good care of his engines back on Enterprise.

TBC

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