A Fair Trade - Chapter 9

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 NINE

The rescue party had arrived at the edge of town and had stopped to correlate the readings from T’Pol’s scanner. They were all grubby from their travels, but determination to continue shone from every face. Trip’s biosigns had been pinpointed, and they had to contain their desire to launch into an immediate offensive move.

T’Pol had been scanning the town, assessing the people and their technology. The buildings were of an efficient structure and those people whom she’d observed seemed well presented, but she hadn’t detected much in the way of advanced technology.

“Lieutenant, I believe this to be a pre-warp society. In effecting our rescue, we must be careful not to contaminate these people with information they are not ready for.”

Malcolm gave her a look of exasperation, which illogically made her think of the man they were here to find.

“Sub-Commander, I’m fairly certain that even a pre-warp society has the means to make a man talk against his wishes. If they want warp information, they’ll get it ‘in spades’ if they manage to loosen Commander Tucker’s tongue.”

T’Pol wondered, not for the first time, at the colourful idioms humans liked to pepper their speech with. She failed to see how loosening Commander Tucker’s tongue would accomplish anything other than making speech more difficult.

They were waiting quietly in the shadow of a large building, watching as Goff, a fellow Zenalese and a third man climbed into a land vehicle and moved away. T’Pol consulted her scanner again and indicated its findings to Malcolm.

“Commander Tucker’s life signs are coming from that building. There are still many people inside, but we don’t know how many of them are guarding him.”

Malcolm thought it was about time he earned his title of Tactical Officer. “I would suggest we split up and approach from both front and rear. Set your weapons to ‘stun’, and be careful where you aim. It wouldn’t do for us to be the ones to hit the commander.”

^*^*^*^*^*^

Trip became aware that he was lying on something soft and warm, and that his face was being gently bathed. He was reluctant to allow himself to fully awaken, as it would be a long time before he forgot how much pain he’d been in. Still, the fact remained that soft hands were ministering to him, and if he wasn’t mistaken, had he just heard feminine giggles?

His eyes shot open, only for him to screw them shut again as his senses went into overload.

‘Ah, yes, there’s the pain again, my constant companion since the crash.’

He lay as still as he could, forcing his breathing to slow and calm down, recalling another time when he’d been injured and T’Pol had tried to help him by talking softly and slowly to him. He wished she was here now, he could certainly do with a friendly face to look at, even if it was an unsmiling Vulcan one.

Cautiously, he opened his eyes again to look up into four concerned faces. They were all young, female, pretty and alien, and for a moment he thought he’d died and gone to Heaven. Only the pain made him reason that that was unlikely. He forced his tongue to co-operate and addressed his nursemaids.

“Hi. Can you tell me where I am?”

His voice startled even him, so weak and hoarse was it from loss of blood. The women jumped slightly at the sound, then crowded around him again, touching his face, hands, and even his thighs.

“Ah! Don’t do that, please,” he gasped, looking down at his injured leg, only then discovering that he was dressed only in his blue skivvies. Not normally given to shyness, he felt nonetheless abashed at having been undressed by persons unknown.

“Uh, ladies, I’d appreciate gettin’ my clothes back, if it’s not too much trouble.”

The four girls giggled some more, then rose in unison to step away from him. He hoped they were going to get his clothes, but when two large males of the same species stepped towards the bed he was lying on, his already dry mouth went even drier.

‘This can’t be good! I’d just as soon have the gigglers back.’

One of the men stepped level with his thigh whilst the other stood at the head of the bed. When they spoke, Trip was surprised to discover that he could understand them.

“You hold information that we want, human. It is in your best interest that you give us that information voluntarily, for we will get it, one way or another.”

Trip tried to rise from the bed, but was horrified at the weakness of his body and of the all-consuming pain that every movement produced.

“What information d’ya think I can give ya? An’ where’s Goff?”

“That one has traded you, so you can forget about him. It’s unlikely that you’ll see him again. As to what we want from you, you are from a warp-engined space vessel. You will tell us everything you know about this technology.”

“Don’t think so,” Trip muttered as quietly as he could, needing to reassure himself with the words, but not wanting to provoke a reaction from the two men.

Whether they did, in fact, hear him, or simply guessed at his reluctance to co-operate, the man standing level with his thigh suddenly pressed down on it, wrenching an agonised groan from Trip. His head reeled at the fresh assault and his breathing quickened to short gasps.

“N-no, don’t,” he managed, angry with himself for the pitiful pleading, but he didn’t know how much of this he could stand before he was telling them his very shoe size, and what his favourite breakfast cereal was.

The sneering alien produced a small stick-like device and pointed it at the human’s thigh. As he pressed a switch, an electrical charge hit Trip with mind-numbing agony. His body jerked and his leg felt as if it had exploded, and this time he couldn’t contain the scream. The alien fired again and Trip’s tortured lungs cried out for air that wouldn’t come. He felt his grip on consciousness slipping away and welcomed the darkness as a respite from this punishment.

TBC

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