A Life Worth Living - Chapter 7

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.

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Chapter 7

He landed on his back, hard. A jolt of pain shot through his spine and for a moment Trip thought that every single bone in his body was broken. The impact had driven all of the air out of his lungs. He couldn't breathe and he couldn't move. Trip gasped. Again he heard Sim yell "Trip! Get outta there!", but he couldn't fathom whether the other man was shouting the same sentence again or whether his brain was replaying the last words he had heard. But then his vision cleared and he saw what was frightening his friends. The vessel was hanging above him like a sword of Damocles and in a few seconds would come crashing down on him. Desperately, Trip tried to move, to push himself away from the place where he knew the vessel would hit the ground, but his body still felt numb. Suddenly he felt someone grab him under the armpits and drag him along. Using his legs, Trip tried to help, but suddenly he knew without a shade of doubt that the shuttle wouldn't wait until he was far enough away.

Trip's eyes widened when he saw the vessel come loose and fall down with an unbelievable speed, a speed he couldn't possibly escape. It shattered on the ground with a sickening clatter and Trip could hear someone cry out.

#####

"Hey Trip, wake up." Trip felt a hand on his wrist, and he slowly realized that someone was checking his pulse. "Open your eyes, Commander. I know that you're not dead."

Trip could hear Sim's agitated voice and slowly opened his eyes to see what was wrong. Sim's face was contorted with fear. Trip tried to put a confident tone into his voice. "Hey, Sim, what's…" He stopped dead when he saw the bulkhead of the crashed vessel. It was directly in front of his eyes. Trip didn't need to lift his head to know that it had come down right on his legs. He felt a shiver run through his body.

"What's wrong?" he asked, not really expecting an answer.

"Are you in pain?" Sim asked softly.

"No, I don't feel anythin'."

Trip didn't see the shock on Sim's face, his eyes were still fixed on the torn vessel that had him pinned to the ground. "D'you think my legs are broken?" Trip swallowed. "I would feel more pain if they were broken, wouldn't I? But I don't feel much'." Trip desperately wanted to hear from Sim that everything was going to be all right. But Sim didn't answer him. Trip tried to fight the fear that was rising in his throat and tried to think logically.

"How long have I been out?"

"Not long. A few moments, a minute at most." Sim shifted uncomfortably. "Can I leave you for a few minutes? I have to take care of Malcolm."

"Malcolm?" Trip started. "What's up with Malcolm?"

"He has a piece of bulkhead stuck in his shoulder."

Trip licked his lips when the truth dawned on him. "He dragged me out."

"Yeah, we both ran to help you, but I slipped on the leaves and fell. I came just in time to see the vessel crashin' down on you, and Malcolm bein' hit by a piece of shattered bulkhead."

"Where is he?"

"I settled him over there where he could lean on a tree. He's bleedin' a lot."

"Then go help him."

"I feel awful leavin' you alone."

"I'll be fine, Sim, I don't think my condition will worsen durin' the next few minutes. You have to help Malcolm, stop the bleedin'."

"Okay." Sim stood up. "I'll be with you as soon as I can."

#####

Malcolm leaned against a tree with his eyes tightly shut, trying to fight the pain. He blinked wearily when he heard Sim approach. "How is he?"

Sim rummaged in the backpack to find the medkit. "He doesn't feel any pain. Do you think he might have broken his back?" He held a hypospray with a painkiller to Malcolm's neck and released the content into the lieutenant's bloodstream.

Malcolm sighed deeply, relishing the feeling as the pain vanished. "Trip crashed to the ground very hard," he admitted. "But I don't think he broke his back. He moved his legs when I tried to pull him away."

Sim took a pair of scissors. "He's afraid that his legs are broken."

Malcolm watched Sim cutting away the bloody sleeves of his uniform and shirt. "To tell the truth I can't imagine that they are not."

"But how come he feels only little pain?"

"It could be possible that the pressure from the vessel is cutting his blood circulation. We have to get him out of there." Impatiently, the lieutenant looked at Sim who was studying Malcolm's injury with a worried frown on his face.

"Pull that thing out of me," he demanded.

"Easy, Malcolm." Sim hesitated. "D'you think that would be wise? This piece is at least six centimeters long and nearly a centimeter wide. It's a nasty injury. It would be better if Phlox removed it."

"I can't work with this trash sticking out of me."

"You can't work at all. I think this piece should be removed professionally."

Malcolm sighed. "Listen, Sim. We have to get Trip out of there and you can't do it alone. So please stop worrying and pull it out."

Sim wasn't convinced. "And what if some major blood vessels are injured? Perhaps this piece of chunk is all that prevents you from bleedin' to death."

"I'm sure there's something in the medkit to cauterize the wound."

"Yeah, there is, but it won't seal an injured artery. Really, Malcolm, we should wait until we're back on Enterprise and let Phlox do it."

For a moment, Malcolm closed his eyes, considering Sim's words. "Isn't there a medical scanner in the backpack?"

"Yes, there is, but I don't know exactly how it works."

Malcolm raised his eyebrows. "I thought you were a perfect copy of Trip. I should think you would know how to handle a scanner."

"You know what I mean, Malcolm. I'm not a doctor and I don't know how to interpret the results."

"Just try it."

Sim took the scanner and realigned it so it would show him the condition of Malcolm's injury. "Seems like you were lucky and only some minor blood vessels got injured. But I can't tell for sure."

"How sure are you?"

"I'd say there's a chance of eighty to ninety percent that pullin' out the piece won't do any further damage. Always assuming' that I’m readin' the data correctly."

"I'll take the risk. We have to help Trip as soon as possible."

"But Malcolm…"

Malcolm cut him short. "I told you, I'll take the risk. I trust you and eighty to ninety percent is good enough. Now would you please stop arguing and help me? Or do I have to do it on my own?"

Sim shook his head in defeat. "Okay, I'll do it. I'm afraid it's goin' to hurt despite of the analgesic I gave you."

"That's okay." Malcolm closed his eyes and steeled himself for the pain.

"Y'know, I never again want to hear you talk about stubborn engineers. You're as stubborn as…" Sim didn't finish the sentence, but pulled out the piece of bulkhead that he had taken carefully between his fingers.

Malcolm hissed from the pain, but then relaxed visibly.

"You're a lucky man, Malcolm," Sim told him. "Looks like there are only minor blood vessels injured, after all." Sim cauterized the wound with the liquid he had found in the medkit. Malcolm bit his lip and got visibly paler, but he didn't complain. Sim wound a bandage tightly around Malcolm's left shoulder and started to fix the arm to his chest which made Malcolm protest immediately.

"Look, Malcolm," Sim said in a tone of voice that told Malcolm he wouldn't comply this time. "You can't use the arm anyway. But if you start to move it the wound is goin' to break open again. This cauterizin' stuff stops the bleedin', but it doesn't repair the injury. So please be a good boy and stop complainin'. We don't have time for this."

Surprisingly enough, Malcolm relented, allowing Sim to tie his arm tightly at his chest.

"Any idea how we can get Trip out from under the wreck?" he asked.

"I don't think we can move it, although it's only a part of the vessel. Maybe we won't have another choice but to wait for Enterprise's help."

Malcolm shook his head. "We can't call Enterprise until the next window opens and that will be in approximately two hours. But as you know those windows are stable for only a few minutes. That's by far not enough time for Enterprise to launch a shuttlepod. And we don't know when the following window will appear. According to T'Pol they are not very numerous. It could be too late for Trip by then."

"But how are we supposed to get him out?" Sim glanced over to the place where Trip lay. "If we had a rope we could cobble together something like a lever."

"There is quite a long rope in the rear compartment of the backpack."

Sim started. "Really?" His features brightened up. He offered Malcolm a hand to help him to his feet. "C'mon, Malcolm, let's get to work."

#####

Trip had his eyes closed when they kneeled down beside him. Malcolm threw a worried glance to the part of the shuttle that was covering Trip's legs. Furtively he searched for traces of blood, but he couldn't find any.

Trip opened his eyes when he heard the movement beside him and tried to smile. "How are you?" he asked Malcolm.

"Better than you," Malcolm said. "How do you feel? Are you in pain?"

Trip grimaced. "What d'you think? There's a shuttle lyin' on my legs." The grimace turned into a reassuring smile when Trip saw Malcolm's worried expression. "Actually, my legs feel strange, but they don't hurt very much. It's more a dull throbbin', what I'm feelin'. Most of all they feel numb."

Malcolm looked over the vessel. "I think the weight is not only cutting your blood circulation, but is also pressing on your nerves. At least I hope that's the only reason why your legs feel numb."

"You think they're broken?"

"I don't know," Malcolm said, but he didn't dare to look into Trip's eyes, which told Trip enough about his friend's thoughts.

Meanwhile, Sim had fetched the thin emergency blanket out of the backpack. Carefully, he spread it across Trip's upper body.

"Can you scan his legs?" Malcolm asked.

"Not as long as the vessel is lyin' on them," Sim regretted. "We're goin' to lift the wreck off your legs," he promised Trip.

"How are you gonna do that?" Trip asked. "It's only a piece of junk, but it looks pretty heavy."

"I thought about it," Sim explained. "We have a rope at hand which I can use to lift the shuttle off the ground. Additionally we'll try to make a lever out of a branch. Do you think you'll be able to pull yourself out if we can lift the vessel a few centimeters?"

"Sure. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Okay, let's begin." Malcolm stood up, but Trip held him back. "Malcolm? I just wanted to thank you. Y'know, for getting' me out of there."

"I'm so sorry it didn't work."

"Oh, it worked, Malcolm, it worked. If not for you, the vessel would've come down exactly on my head. You saved my life, and I'm grateful for that. I'm sorry that you got injured."

"Don't worry, Trip, it's only a scratch."

"Yeah, like always, I know." Trip smiled, but then the smile turned into a pained grimace.

"What is it?" Malcolm asked alarmed.

"My back hurts," Trip admitted.

Sim showed up, the rope in his hands. "You fell on your back pretty hard, Trip. But we don't think that it is broken. Malcolm saw you move your legs." The faintest of smiles tugged at Sim's lips. "I think you massacred a dozen corn poppies, but they cushioned the impact of your fall." He turned to Malcolm. "Perhaps you can look for a branch that's sturdy enough to use as a lever. I'm goin' to climb up this tree." He pointed to a branch about three meters above them. "I think if I throw the rope over this branch and fasten it to the nose of the vessel I should be able to lift the lower part high enough that you could shove the branch under the bottom."

Malcolm nodded and stood up.

Trip watched him leave, then his eyes came to rest on Sim who was preparing the rope. "What if it doesn't work?"

Sim looked at Trip. It was futile to hide his doubts, for Trip knew as well as he did that the chances of succeeding weren't in their favor. "Then I'll take the plasma torch and cut this damned vessel into tiny pieces. We'll get you out of there, Trip, one way or another." Sim paused shortly. "What about the pain? Do you need some painkiller?"

"Not yet. Only my back is hurting and it's bearable."

Malcolm came back, reaching for the backpack. "I found a branch that could serve our purpose. But I have to cut it loose from the tree. Would you help me, Sim?"

"Of course." Sim dropped the rope. "Can we leave you for a moment, Trip?"

"Course. I won't be goin' anywere."

#####

Trip swallowed. He felt his blood pounding in his ears and his heart was racing.

He didn't feel as well as he had pretended. Actually, he felt sick and the pain in his back was increasing. The fact that he had to lie still in one place didn't help, either. For a moment he reconsidered his decision not to ask for some analgesics, but then he thought he had done the right thing not taking any now. Painkillers always made him a little bit dizzy and he would need all his strength to pull himself out from under the shuttle.

Sim and Malcolm prepared the branch. Once it was ready, Sim stood and stared at the vessel, rope in hand. "Where am I goin' to tie this?" he asked.

Trip looked up. From his vantage point, he could just see a place on the ship where the rope might be secured in such a manner that the ship wouldn’t twist or turn when lifted. "There," he said, nodding.

Eventually Sim told Trip that they were all set for a try. Malcolm had the lever ready to shove it under the vessel. The end of the rope was attached firmly to the small craft and looped over the branch above them that was slightly bent upwards and would prevent the rope from slipping off it. For additional leverage, Sim had removed some earth from under a strong looking root in the ground until he could pull the rope through the hole. Sim eyed the construction with visible doubt. He sighed. "Well, all we can do is try. Are you ready, Trip?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." Trip threw the blanket aside and propped himself up on his elbows, biting his lip when another stab of pain seared through his back.

"Okay." Sim turned around, laid the rope over his shoulder and grabbed it with both his hands. Slowly but steadily he began to pull, leaning forward to use the weight of his own body. The branch was creaking as was the root, but when Sim managed to take two little steps, the vessel's lower end slowly lifted off the ground. It was only a few centimeters, but it was enough for Malcolm to shove the lever under it. With his sound shoulder and his knee he leaned onto the branch. They both heard Trip gasp when the weight was lifted off his legs, and doubled their efforts.

"Okay!" Trip shouted. "Hold it."

Malcolm and Sim tried to hold the vessel in its current place while Trip awkwardly began to wiggle his way out. He was making only slow progress.

Suddenly the branch above their heads gave an audible crack.

"Hurry up, Trip," Sim yelled. "The branch is goin' to break." From his place behind the vessel he couldn't see Trip, but Malcolm shook his head in his direction. Trip still hadn't made it.

Sim was panting. He mobilized all his strength, but he could feel the rope slipping through the gloves he wore to protect his hands. Determinedly, he wrapped the rope around his hand twice and pulled even harder.

A few seconds later he heard the branch creak a second time. When he turned his head he could see it break. He could only shout a warning and jump aside when the rope went limp and the branch came down, missing his head only by ten centimeters.

Malcolm leaned onto the lever with all his weight, but he couldn't hold it. It snapped from under his body, throwing him backwards to the ground. The vessel crashed down again.

"Shit," Sim cursed. "Trip? Did you make it?" He went over to help Malcolm to his feet. "You okay?"

Malcolm, who was supporting his injured shoulder with his right hand, nodded. "I'm fine."

"Trip?" Sim asked once again, this time with fear in his voice.

When there was still no answer, Sim and Malcolm exchanged a worried glance, before they walked around the vessel, stopping in shock when Trip came in sight.

"At least I managed to get out," Trip said hoarsely, looking at them with a face pale as a sheet. Suddenly he began to retch. Sim was at his side in an instant, holding Trip's head while his friend was throwing up.

When the retching subsided, Sim gently patted Trip's shoulder. "You okay?"

Trip nodded slowly, his expression blank.

With a sinking heart, Sim looked up at Malcolm who was still standing beside the vessel, staring at Trip's left leg where a bloody piece of bone was sticking out of the shin.

TBC

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