A Fair Trade- Chapter 10

A Fair Trade

by kittytrypsin

Genre: Action/Adventure
Rating: PG-13

Disclaimer # 1: Paramount owns the characters from ‘Enterprise’, I’m just borrowing them. But if they don’t look after them…

Disclaimer # 2: No financial gain is being made from these stories, unfortunately.

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CHAPTER TEN

Goff and Exer had returned from discussing the payment for the human. According to the expression on Goff’s face, he wasn’t totally happy with his side of the deal.

“He’s worth far more than one lousy ticked on that bucket of scrap. It’s not even space-worthy. If you think I’m going to trust my life on something like that, you can think again. And I’m certainly not handing over the human for anything less than a berth on a half-decent trading ship. Ok, so we’ll forget about the other two tickets; I was getting a bit tired of them, anyway, but you’ve got to have something leaving soon, so I’ll just go get my merchandise while you come up with the goods.”

They stepped from the land vehicle, arguing heatedly and unsuspecting of an ambush. Malcolm and crewman Murphy stepped up behind them and pressed their phasers into their necks.

“Please don’t make any sudden moves, gentlemen, as I’m just longing for an excuse to fire!” Malcolm’s polite voice seemed incongruous with the words. The two men took his advice and cautiously raised their arms above their heads.

“Very good! You must get satellite TV from earth, all those old westerns. Now, if you don’t mind, we’ll pay a little visit with Commander Tucker. Move!”

The men were encouraged forwards into the building by the pressure of the Starfleet pistols on their necks, and Malcolm worried that it was all going much too smoothly. He wondered where the Sub-Commander and crewman Johnson had got to as he ushered his prisoners along.

A door ahead of them opened and two Kendali men stepped from the room containing the unconscious engineer.

“Ambush! Get the human out of there,” Exer shouted at them, catching Malcolm unprepared. He fired and hit one of the Kendalies, but the other leapt back inside and slammed the door behind him. Malcolm swore under his breath as he contemplated their next move. A noise from behind mad him whirl round, and he sighed in relief as he saw T’Pol and Johnson joining them.

“I see you have detained Goff, Lieutenant. Am I to assume that Commander Tucker is still missing?”

“Give us a chance, Sub-Commander. We’ve only just got here. I think the commander’s in that room up ahead, with at least one alien who may or may not be armed.” He turned to glare at Exer. “Is there another entrance to that room?”

Exer laughed, a humourless snort of scorn. “You don’t really expect me to tell you, do you?”

Malcolm thought back to what Exer had yelled. ‘Get the human out of there.’

That had to mean that there was another door. He couldn’t afford to lug around their excess baggage, so he fired on Goff and Exer without as much as a warning, stepping casually over them as they fell. He wasn’t even sure if his weapon had been set on ‘stun’, but if he was honest with himself, he didn’t care.

“Sub-Commander, you and Johnson should attempt to locate the other access to that room. The man inside has already see Murphy and myself, so we’ll form the frontal attack. He mightn’t think there are four of us, so hopefully he won’t be expecting a rear assault. If we allow him to get away with the commander, we mightn’t get as good a chance again.”

“Agreed, Lieutenant. We will look for some external means of access.”

T’Pol and Johnson moved off, leaving the others to edge closer to the door.

Inside the room, the four servant girls had moved back to Trip’s still form when the two men had made to leave. They had set about wiping the blood from his leg, but he made no sound, even when they applied fresh bandages.

Kree, the Kendali, pushed them aside as he made to drag the man off the bed, but the sound of the door opening from the corridor made him crouch down behind his human shield.

“Don’t come any closer, or I’ll kill him,” he yelled.

Malcolm held his hand up to halt Murphy in his steps. He had to get the man to talk in an attempt to fill some time and allow T’Pol to reach them. He looked at the device that Kree held against Trip’s unconscious body and realised it must be some form of pain device, rather than a firing weapon.

“Alright, we’ll stay here, but if you make any attempt to leave with my friend, I’ll be forced to fire on you.”

Kree sneered. “Fool! I have the upper hand. If I want to leave, I simply drag this human along as my shield. He’s already very weak, so you really don’t want to force my hand. Drop your weapons, now!”

Malcolm could taste the bitterness of defeat as he slowly signalled to Murphy, and they both lowered their weapons to the floor. As he glanced at the alien, hope surged once more. T’Pol was stepping as silently as a wraith, through an opened doorway. She didn’t waste any time trying out nerve pinches, but fired on the alien from where she stood. The man slumped to the floor as the four startled servant girls shrieked in terror.

“It’s alright, we won’t harm you,” Malcolm tried to soothe them. They looked at him with eyes like saucers, but his soft words seemed to calm them, and their screams subsided. Almost like pre-programmed automatons, they moved towards Trip again, smoothing his brow and caressing his arms in an attempt to revive him.

T’Pol’s eyebrow went into overdrive as she observed the scene. It never ceased to amaze her that where alien females were put into the same situation as the chief engineer, they were drawn together in a most interesting scenario.

Malcolm grinned briefly at the thought of the mileage he was going to get out of this, what with Trip in his blues, and with four females this time. But his moment of humour was fleeting as he recalled their position. Being inside an enemy city with a severely injured man to slow down their escape wasn’t exactly ideal.

T’Pol produced the med kit and was preparing a hypospray that Phlox had thoughtfully included. She injected the engineer’s neck and watched with concern for the first signs of his recovery. She was troubled by the feelings she was experiencing when looking at her weakened colleague.

‘Vulcans should be above the emotion of anger’ she mutely chided herself, but as she took in Trip’s injuries and examined the torture device that Kree had dropped, she fought to control the baser desire for revenge.

A soft moan from the man on the bed brought her back to reason, and she scanned his body for confirmation that he was waking.

Malcolm posted Murphy as guard at the door into the corridor, and Johnson took up position at the other. Malcolm crossed to stand beside T’Pol as they watched Trip’s ashen face change from expressionless to pain-wracked.

“Commander, open your eyes.” T’Pol bent low over him, speaking softly and clearly.

Trip heard his name being called, but he remembered the last time he’d opened his eyes and wasn’t in any hurry to resume the question and answer session.

“Trip, we’ve got to get out of here, so why don’t you open your eyes some time soon?” Malcolm shook him gently by the shoulder, anxious to revive him, but reluctant to cause him any more pain.

Trip wondered at the use of his nickname. Nobody on this planet knew it, and it certainly hadn’t sounded like Goff, who might just have known how he was familiarly addressed. He decided to risk responding, and with a deep groan, opened unfocussed eyes, trying not to gasp as his injuries called out to him. Relief washed over him as he looked up into the faces of T’Pol and Malcolm.

“What took ya so long?” he asked, plaintively.

“Your friends left us with a few setbacks on Enterprise. We only just got here in time,” Malcolm explained. “If you don’t mind my saying so, Commander, you look terrible.”

“That’s ok, ‘cause I feel terrible, too,” Trip whispered, his eyes drooping again.

“Lieutenant, there’s activity out in the corridor,” Murphy called from the doorway. Malcolm took a hard-backed chair over and propped it against the now-closed door, under the handle.

“That might slow them down a bit. Commander, can you walk?”

Trip forced his eyes open and attempted a half-hearted laugh. “Sure thing, just point me in the right direction.”

He tried, unsuccessfully, to stand, and T’Pol signalled for Johnson to assist her. They pulled Trip onto his feet, supporting his weight across their shoulders. He grimaced as everything protested, but remained conscious.

“I’m not gonna be much help to ya. You shouldn’t have risked comin’ for me, but I’m real glad that ya did.” He gazed dreamily at T’Pol’s right ear, a sudden urge to kiss it entering his befuddled brain. Manfully, he resisted, as he thought her reaction would very likely be to deposit him painfully on his ass.

They made their way through the rear door and accessed the fire escape, with Malcolm in the lead and Murphy bringing up the rear. Trip did his best to help, but even the slightest movement evoked a soft moan. As they safely emerged from the building, they blended into the shadows.

“Lieutenant, I believe we will need some form of transport. Commander Tucker is too weak to survive the return journey to the shuttle on foot,” T’Pol put into words what they’d all been thinking.

“Who ya callin’weak?” Trip tried to instil belligerence into his question, but the evidence was stacked against him. If either T’Pol or Johnson had let go his arm, he’d have collapsed.

Malcolm nodded and peered out into the street. Across from their position was an open vehicle of some sort. He wasn’t familiar with its construction, but as it had been left unattended, he reasoned that it would be rude to refuse the unwritten invitation to ‘borrow’ it.

He and Murphy flitted from shadow to shadow until they had reached the craft. Murphy kept watch as the lieutenant stepped carefully into it. After a moment, Malcolm found a button on the console which fired the ignition. He was appalled at the din it created, but now that it was running, speed was of the essence. T’Pol and Johnson hurried over, settling Trip as comfortably as possible before clambering in beside him. Murphy took a last look around before jumping on board. Malcolm listened, half-expecting to hear cries of “Stop, thief”, but there were none.

“Hang on, everybody, this could be a rough ride,” he shouted above the engine.

The craft rose, unexpectedly, into the air, skimming the rooftops, blasting its occupants with wind and rain.

“Bad weather for a convertible,” Trip gasped from the rear seat.

“Picky, picky, Commander,” Malcolm yelled back. “At least we’re making progress. Now, if we can just out-distance that craft that’s behind us…”

T’Pol slewed round in her seat to observe what Malcolm had already seen: a similar craft had taken off a few moments after them. She reached for her communicator, intending to contact Enterprise.

TBC

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