What Lies Within Us - Chapter 6

What Lies Within Us

by Gabi

Disclaimers in Chapter 1

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Chapter 6

Malcolm's eyes were watering. He was sure there had to be at least ten pounds of sand in them, but he couldn't wipe them. To do that, he would have to let go of Trip whom he had flung over his shoulders. It certainly wasn't the most comfortable position for Trip, but this way, the weight was spread more or less evenly and it was easier for Malcolm to carry him. They were making only very slow progress. Malcolm would never have thought that a thousand meters could be such a long distance. By now, he could at least make out the shuttle, but it still seemed to be a hundred kilometers away.

He cried out as he stumbled on the loose scree, falling to his knees. Instinctively, he reached out to steady himself, and Trip slid off his shoulders, going head over heels down the uneven slope.

"Trip, are you okay?" Malcolm cried out, scrambling to his feet.

"I'm fine." Trip propped himself up on his elbows, giving his friend a scrutinizing look. "You look absolutely done in, Mal," he said. "You gotta rest for a while."

"We're almost there," Malcolm insisted stubbornly.

"We'll take a short break," Trip said resolutely. "Five minutes. And this time you do what I'm sayin', Lieutenant."

"Aye aye, Commander." Malcolm sat down with his back into the wind, wiping the tears from his eyes. Trip eyed him concernedly. Malcolm was beat. Making your way through these treacherous rocks was hard enough without carrying an additional weight and by now, Malcolm was completely exhausted. But of course, he would never admit it. Trip let his eyes wander over the rocky ground and wondered if he might be able to pull himself along all the way to the shuttle.

Malcolm saw right through him. "Just forget it, Commander," he said. "These rocks are pretty nasty. Even if you ever arrived at the shuttle, you'd need skin transplants."

"But you can't go on like this."

"There you are mistaken, Commander. I can go on like this as long as it's necessary." Malcolm got to his feet, and with a tremendous effort he heaved Trip onto his shoulders again, hooking his hands around the Commander's arms and legs. He took a deep breath and began walking, concentrating on the increasingly difficult task of setting one foot in front of the other. On and on, one step, another one, another. Don't think about how far it is. Don't think about the weight on your shoulders. Don't let go of Trip again. Don't forget to breath, Malcolm. Breathing's important. Another step. Careful with that rock. Go around it. Don't lose your balance. Just a few more steps.

Malcolm kept his eyes fixed on the ground, the dust making them burn so badly he could barely keep them open. From time to time, Trip corrected his course, quietly telling him when he was drifting off to the right or the left.

"Stop, Malcolm," he called suddenly.

Malcolm stopped abruptly. "What is it, Trip?" he asked, not raising his eyes. His voice sounded raspy.

"We're there, Mal. Another two steps, and you'll bump into the shuttle."

Malcolm peered forward. There it was. Their shuttle. He'd actually managed to get Trip to the shuttle. Malcolm felt a relief so great he couldn't move a muscle. He simply stood and stared.

"Malcolm!" Trip began squirming in the Armory Officer's grip. "Put me down."

"Yes, sure." Malcolm smiled and carefully released Trip, letting him slide down onto the ground. He opened the shuttle's hatch and helped Trip inside. Climbing in as well, he closed the hatch behind them and paused to take a long, deep breath.

Trip was sitting on the shuttle's floor, looking up at Malcolm. "I'd never thought we'd make it. Dammit, Malcolm, that was really quite unbelievable."

Malcolm smiled at the compliment. "You would've done the same thing," he stated simply and lifted Trip onto one of the rear benches. Rummaging through one of the storage compartments, he searched for a med kit.

"What're ya lookin' for?" Trip asked.

"I want to treat those cuts on your legs."

"There's still time for that when we're back on Enterprise," Trip said dismissively. "They don't even bleed that much; it looks worse than it is. Right now, I just wanna get away from here." Trip was glad when he saw Malcolm nodding. In order to let Malcolm treat his injuries, he would've had to pull off his pants, and he had no idea how to accomplish this with these useless legs. Phlox wouldn't go to any trouble and just cut off the uniform. That's probably just as well, Trip thought, feeling a bitter smile tug on the corner of his mouth. He watched Malcolm sit down in the pilot seat and involuntarily held his breath. What if the aliens hadn't blocked only scanners and communications, but the shuttle's propulsion as well? What if he and Malcolm were stuck here on this planet without any possibility to contact Enterprise? If that was the case, then they would indeed be in quite a lot of trouble.

The engines roared. The sound of the thrusters powering up had never sounded more beautiful to Trip's ears than it did now. Slowly, Trip let the air escape from his lungs in one long sigh. Malcolm also seemed a lot less tense than he'd been only a moment ago. As Security Chief, he was aware of just how much could go wrong on a mission, and Trip could almost physically sense the relief that was radiating from him. Malcolm turned around and grinned.

"Hold tight, Commander, we're going home."

-###-

Archer was sitting in his ready room, staring at the screen in front of him. There was no sign whatsoever that there might have been problems down on the moon. Well, but even if Trip isn't looking for trouble the trouble will find him sooner or later, he thought a little cynically, but the thought didn't cheer him up in any way. This endless waiting was driving him crazy. He'd set T'Pol a deadline which would expire in not too long a time. If she hadn't come up with any results until then, he'd take shuttlepod two and go down to that moon to look for his officers. Suddenly he felt a tremble shaking the ship and sprang to his feet, hitting the panel beside the door and leaving the room.

"Report!" he barked as he stepped onto the bridge.

"It's a tractor beam, sir," said T'Pol, who was busily tapping away on her console, same as Ensign Mayweather at the helm.

"A tractor beam?"

"Indeed. It has its origin somewhere on the planet's surface, and it is locked firmly onto Enterprise."

Archer didn't ask any questions. There would be enough time for that later on.

"Increase speed, Ensign," he told Travis. "Try to shake it off. Hoshi, hail Engineering and tell them we're gonna need extra power."

The ship shook as Travis tried to get Enterprise free of the tractor beam, but nothing happened.

"Increase speed, Travis! Shouldn't be that hard to get away."

"Engineering to Bridge," a voice spoke up from the comm. Archer hit the button.

"This is Hess, sir. We have to throttle down, or there'll be an overload. And I don't want to know what the Commander's gonna do to us if that happens."

Archer sighed in exasperation. "Very well, Travis, shut it down. For now." He turned his head, looking at his officers. "I'm open for any suggestions." He fixed T'Pol with a piercing glance. "And I want to know why we're suddenly caught in a tractor beam, and how we can get away."

"Sir! They're coming back!"

Archer looked at Mayweather. "What is it, Ensign? What do you mean?"

"Shuttlepod one, sir." Travis dark features displayed a wide grin. "I got them on close range sensors."

Quickly, the Captain got to his feet. "Can we hail them?" he asked, looking at Hoshi, but she shook her head.

"Negative, sir. The frequencies are still being jammed."

"Will they be able to dock despite the tractor beam?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, Captain."

"Alright. Open the shuttle hangar, Travis." Archer was already on his way to the turbolift. "Tell Phlox he's needed in shuttle bay one."

On his way to the shuttle hangar Jonathan Archer broke his own personal record. A couple of crewmen had to jump out of his way as he ran down the corridors. As soon as the shuttlebay doors had swung close and the hangar pressurized, Archer already opened the shuttle's hatch.

"Trip, Malcolm, are you alright?" His heart skipped a beat as he saw Trip lying on one of the rear benches. Trip's uniform was dirty and torn, and there were blood stains on the uniform pants. Through the ripped cloth Archer could see scratches and lacerations. "Trip!" he exclaimed. "What happened?"

"Jus' a few scratches, Cap'n, nothin' serious," Trip said, trying to sound reassuring. He knew, though, that he couldn't keep the bad news from Archer. "The real problem is, I can't move my legs."

"You can't move them?" Uncomprehendingly, Archer looked back at Trip's legs. The injuries did look rather nasty but couldn't possibly have this kind of effect. Or could they?

Malcolm got up from the pilot seat. "The aliens injected something into his spine that's causing the paralysis," he explained curtly.

"Aliens?" Archer's face displayed utter confusion. Studying Malcolm's weary features, he realized that the Armory Officer was close to collapsing. That moment, he felt a hand settle on his shoulder.

"Please, Captain," said Phlox, "step aside and let me tend to my duties." The Doctor ran his med scanner over Trip, then ordered two of his assistants to carefully put him onto a gurney and take him down to sickbay.

"What's wrong with him, doc?" Jonathan asked.

"I'll tell you as soon as I know more, Captain. Why don't you accompany Lieutenant Reed to sickbay and let him give you a short report about what happened." Phlox gave his captain a smile and hurried after the med team.

Archer took a deep breath. "Well, Malcolm," he said then, "let's do what the doc said."

Malcolm straightened his shoulders. "I'm fine, Captain. I don't need to go to sickbay. Phlox has to take care of Trip now."

"He will," Archer said gently. "But you need help as well, even if it's only a bed to lie down for a while." He took Malcolm by the arm and guided him to the hatch. Malcolm stumbled and would have fallen, but two strong arms caught him, grabbing him by the shoulders.

"Uh... thank you, Subcommander," he said, and carefully, T'Pol released him.

"You are welcome, Lieutenant. You seem to be very exhausted."

"He is." Jonathan Archer climbed out of the shuttle, and, putting the Lieutenant's arm around his shoulders, he took him around the waist, supporting him.

"Captain..." Malcolm protested, obviously quite uncomfortable with accepting aid from his captain. However, when he felt his knees buckle and give way, he was grateful for the support.

-###-

Jonathan Archer couldn't keep his hands still. He forced himself to stay put and sit still on his chair, but he just couldn't resist the urge to nervously drum his fingers on the armrest. T'Pol gave him a slightly irritated glance. She seemed to be as calm and composed as always, but Archer could see the small signs that told him his science officer, too, was deeply concerned. She had barely been able to keep the astonishment from showing on her face when Lieutenant Reed had told them about the aliens down on that moon, about the cloaked building, the gigantic power source and last but not least about the serum the strangers had injected Trip with. Archer had seen the look on Phlox' face, and he was worried, just as T'Pol was. Just as the rest of the senior crew were. Eventually, Phlox had all but kicked him out of sickbay, and at the moment, Archer was keeping himself from contacting Phlox yet again to ask him if he'd already come up with any results. The doc wouldn't be able to tell him any more than he had told him five minutes ago, and his remark that he would be able to work much more efficiently if he wasn't disturbed every ten minutes had been quite clear. Besides, there was still that tractor beam that was still locked onto Enterprise with unwavering force, no matter what they did.

In the meantime, however, they'd managed to make some sense of all the data. Fact was, there were some kind of beings living on that moon, in an area that covered less than one square kilometer. They had some power source that could produce the cloaking field as well as jam all comm and scan signals, and that could even keep a starship of Enterprise's size caught in a tractor beam. The potential danger to his ship and the crew were all too present in Archer's mind. What was even worse, though, was that feeling of helplessness. He just didn't know what to do. Simply surrendering and waiting for the aliens to blow them to pieces, all the time caught in that tractor beam like a trapped animal, that was not an option. He was aware of the fact that these strangers were out to destroy his ship. Whatever they were doing down on that moon, it wasn't meant to be seen by anyone, and it did seem like they were very keen on keeping Enterprise from getting away.

"Phlox to Archer!"

"Archer here. What's new, doc?"

"If you got a minute, I'd like you and T'Pol to come down to sickbay."

"On our way." Archer threw a glance in T'Pol's direction, but she'd already left her station and was standing next to the turbolift door, waiting for him. The worried looks of the bridge crew followed them as they stepped into the lift.

"Did you notice Phlox' tone?" Jonathan asked.

"No, I did not, Captain."

"He didn't sound happy at all."

"You are assuming he does not have any good news to tell us?"

Archer looked at T'Pol who'd raised both her eyebrows. He knew that she was concerned for Trip just as much as he was, even if she didn't let it show.

***********

TBC

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Three people have made comments

Very nicely done. I like the interaction among the various characters.

:( bad news?, lets all pray......

Ok,gr8 chapter, had me on the edge of my seat, Good story btw, n i wont kill u if u leave him perm ill, for a few chapters neway. Write more :) i love how quickly ure getting these chaps out :)

Loved the bit of humour with mal nearly walking into the shuttle :)

Well written as per usual, and it's Trip, there has to be bad news... :-)
Keep writing!