Stranded

STRANDED

By Vanishingp2000

Email: vanishingp@supawoman.com

Rating PG 13 – English –Adventure/Drama/Friendship NO SLASH

Disclaimer: Enterprise is owned by Paramount. I offer them and the cast and crew my grateful thanks for bringing us such wonderful entertainment. This story was written entirely for fun, not profit and is not intended to infringe copyright in any way.

Archive: Yes but please let me know where.

A/N this is my first attempt at fan fiction so please be gentle. I am English so if any odd spellings or strange words creep in that is the reason.

A/N 2 The story is set pre Expanse.

Summary: Trip and Archer are stranded on a strange planet with their very survival at stake.

Chapter 1.

Trip Tucker crouched, shivering, behind a craggy boulder and tried to wipe the water out of his eyes. It was a futile gesture considering the fact that the wind was howling and rain had been lashing at him ever since he left the shuttle pod. His hair was plastered to his head and his clothes waterlogged, the only bright spot at this moment the flickering light he had fleetingly caught sight of a few minutes earlier. He cupped a hand around his scanner, grateful for its waterproof properties and tried again to scan for life signs but still with the same negative results. According to his instrument he wasn’t even there, wherever there was on this desolate moor land.

Coughing, he turned again to peer around the rock but the lights had gone, if they had ever existed. He was beginning to doubt even that. Should he try and follow them? He was reluctant to go any further in these conditions, he wasn’t too sure he could find his way back to the shuttle pod as it was and his getting lost would only compound their problems.

A violent fit of shivering shook him out of his reverie, he had to get moving. Leaving the shelter of his rock he had to bend almost double against the wind, which seemed to drive the rain at him from every direction. Setting the scanner to pick up the homing beacon he had activated before leaving the shuttle he had to hold the instrument to his ear to hear the gentle beeping. Struggling forwards, he tried to retrace his steps but the rain had already obliterated almost every trace in the muddy ground. Straining his eyes he could just make out the wizened tree on the opposite side of the gully. That he knew he had passed, he had snagged his sleeve on its branches. Sighing he set himself to climbing towards the tree. The going was slow, each of the small rivulets had burst its banks and there was a steady rush of water down most of the hillside. Reaching the top at last he paused under the tree to catch his breath and tried again to signal Enterprise, perhaps he was free of the interference by now. “Tucker to Enterprise,” he cupped his hand around his communicator, “Tucker to Enterprise.” Static was the only response.

Peering through the gloom into the distance he could barely make out the next rise. The thick magenta tinged clouds had lowered almost into the valleys and were swirling around his head. The rain continued unabated and it was definitely getting colder. I’ve had enough of this, he thought vehemently and set off once again as quickly as the conditions would allow. He had traversed three steep sided valleys on his way to the rocky outcrop so that left two more before the shuttle would be visible. If he didn’t fall over it first.

Slipping and sliding his way down through the thick mud on the hillside Tucker reached the bottom abruptly as a swirling eddy of wind caused him to loose his footing. He rolled the last several metres before colliding, painfully with a large pile of rocks at the river’s edge. The water tugged at his arms as he sprawled on the ground and it was all he could do to pull himself away from its grasp. Desperately he clung to the rocks before finding the strength to pull himself further up the bank. Only once before had he ever felt so cold and dimly a voice in the back of his mind was telling him he’d better get moving while he still could.

Edging around the rocks onto relatively firm ground Trip attempted to stand and promptly sat down again clutching his leg. He hadn’t been aware of hurting himself, must be the cold, he thought, making me numb. Numb or not something was wrong though, his leg had hurt like hell when he tried to put his weight on it. Gingerly he felt for damage. There was a large rent in his right trouser leg just above the knee and his hand came away covered in a mixture of blood and muddy river water. Great, he mumbled, just great. Inching around he put his back against the rock and reached for his scanner. Somewhat to his surprise it was still in its pouch and still beeping gently. Breathing a silent “thank you” to whomever was looking out for him he slowly tried to get to his feet again. This time he made it, gritting his teeth and for once grateful for the cold.

The mists had all but reached the valley bottom by now and he had another valley and a half to go. Doesn’t do to think about it, he told himself. Better to try and find a way across this river.

The river was rapidly becoming a torrent as the torrential rains rushed to the valley floor, if he didn’t cross soon he wouldn’t be crossing at all. Steeling himself he searched for the narrowest place within easy reach. The water seemed a little calmer down to his right where some trees neared the edge. He made his way over there and reached up and yanked the thickest branch he could from the tree closest to the torrent. Using it as a probe he edged into the water. He was barely able to keep his feet as it rapidly rose to knee level. The water licked keenly at his wounded leg but his cry was lost to the wailing wind. Somehow he made it to the other side but the effort took its toll. Now the branch had to be used as a prop and he didn’t want to think how much further he had to go. Picturing a warm cosy shuttle and a hot cup of coffee he resolutely set himself to climbing the next rise, which seemed much steeper and higher than he had remembered.
****************************
Jonathan Archer groaned softly and reached a shaking hand to his head. Everything was hazy and he took time to listen to his surroundings before opening his eyes. He was lying on his back on one of the benches onboard Shuttlepod 1 but it didn’t sound right; there were no background noises from the equipment or the engines……………. He bolted upright, or tried to, as memories flooded back. He and Trip had tried to make an emergency landing after being caught in an ion storm on their way back from a diplomatic mission to Ansara. He remembered coming through the atmosphere of the small planet that hadn’t been on their sensors before they had been caught up in the storm, but he couldn’t remember much more than that. Trip had shouted something about the engines…. Trip, where was Trip? Archer tried again to sit up only to fall back in agony as a blinding pain shot along his entire left side, stemming from his leg. Looking down much more cautiously he saw that his leg was bound to a makeshift splint and there was blood on his jumpsuit but Trip was nowhere to be seen.

Archer looked beyond his feet at the pilot’s console, it was a mess. He could see now how his leg had been broken, looking at the crushed state of the console it was a wonder he had come out of it alive. Adjusting his position slightly he became aware of the padd tucked beneath him. Smiling a little he pulled it out and listened to the message from his friend. “Capt’n, it looks like there’s a few hours of daylight left and you seem in no hurry to wake up so I’ve gone to try and contact the ship. The transceiver has had it and my communicator’s not able to break through the interference so I’m going to try and find some higher ground, see if I can get a message off. I’ll be back within a couple of hours. Stay put! ”

Archer smiled at the last and looked at the time Trip had left his message, he must have been gone at least two hours already he thought, squinting to try and see the chronometer. His eyes were drawn to what was left of the viewscreen, rocks obscured most of his view but he could see the storm clouds, which spewed angry yellow bolts of lightning and visibility was extremely poor. He hoped that Trip had found shelter, in this weather the chances of contacting Enterprise, even on high ground were remote.

Not that the ship was due back in this system for the next couple of days anyway. The diplomatic mission to Ansara had seemed like a welcome diversion after weeks of inactivity, the chance to trade for supplies too good to pass up. Trip had been elated at the change of scene and relieved that they had managed to restock some of the engineering stores that had been running dangerously low. The crash had not been pilot error but had been as a direct result of the ion storm, which had developed much more rapidly than any he had encountered before. In fact Archer harboured serious doubts as to whether it had been an entirely natural phenomenon. He only hoped he would get the chance to find out.

A sudden thump on the outside of the shuttle alerted him, the door release had been activated. Archer held his breath and waited but he needn’t have worried it was Tucker. He climbed over the sill gingerly and stood; framed in the doorway like a spectre from the deep, before collapsing slowly to the floor with a great sigh. He was shivering uncontrollably, soaked to the skin and his face was a mask of pain. “Trip,” he muttered, “what have you got into now?”

Trip looked up, smiling in relief at his friend before levering himself to his feet once more and reaching up to close the hatchway. He moved over to stand by Archer’s side. “How’re ya doing Capt’n?” he asked, teeth chattering. He was icy cold, the water from his clothing already beginning to make a puddle on the floor.

“Better’n you by the looks of it,” Archer replied. “What the hell happened?”

“I slipped, it’s kinda muddy out there.” As he talked Trip was trying to open the locker containing the survival packs but his hands were nearly useless with the cold. Clumsily he pulled out a couple of thermal blankets and the medkit. Keeping a blanket for himself he handed the kit and second blanket to Archer and wordlessly began stripping off his sodden clothing.

Archer rummaged in the kit for antiseptic wipes and analgesic and tried to ignore the gasp of pain from his friend. “Did you find anything?” he asked, as much to keep the engineer alert as to extract information.

“I did think I saw some lights at one point,” Trip stammered, “but couldn’t spot them again. Mmm,” he gasped on a sharp intake of breath as he tried to ease his sodden trousers over the gash in his leg. A ragged flap of skin had caught on the cloth and he closed his eyes as a biting pain shot up his leg.

“Come over here and let me have a look,” Archer instructed. Smiling slightly despite himself Tucker pulled the blanket closely about him and surrendered. Truth to tell he wasn’t getting far anyway, his hands were too damn cold. He eased himself into a sitting position on the floor next to Archer’s bench and tried not to yell as the Captain gently pulled the wet cloth away from his wound. His leg was a mess, from the look of that he was lucky he had been able to walk at all. For the first time that day he was actually thankful for the cold, its numbing effect had been beneficial after all.

“You haven’t torn any major blood vessels at least,” Archer sounded relieved, “but there’s too much damage here for me to repair. We have to get you back to sickbay.”
Tucker laughed morosely. “A fine pair we are,” he winced. “Enterprise won’t even be looking for us until tomorrow.”

“I’ll just have to patch you up and impress you with my medical skills,” Archer quipped, worry lining his face. Carefully he cleaned Tucker’s wound before applying an antiseptic wound dressing which he held in place with a bandage. Throughout the procedure he kept a discrete eye on his friend’s face, aside from his obvious pain he was blue about the mouth and still shivering. He seemed close to collapse and was clearly exhausted but Jon didn’t want him sleeping until his temperature had returned to something approaching normal. “Any chance we could get a hot drink around here?” he asked, easing himself back on to the bench.

Half an hour later Trip had managed to rig up an effective hot plate by cannibalising the heating element from the shuttle’s heating system. The exertion had helped to reduce his shivering and the hot coffee was very welcome. Despite the caffeine he found himself fighting to keep his eyes open and eased himself off the floor and onto the bench opposite Archer. “You alright Capt’n if I just close ma eyes for a bit?” he asked.

“You think you could stay awake if I asked?” his friend quipped looking closely at Trip. The engineer had a little more colour but his eyes were drooping and he was nearly dropping with fatigue.

“Prob’ly not,” he slurred resting his head back on the bench and pulling the blanket around him.

Jon settled back himself and tried to ease his leg into a more comfortable position, the analgesic Trip had given him earlier was beginning to wear off but there was no way he was going to wake his friend on his account at the moment.

*********************************

Archer woke with a start. The pod had moved. From outside he could hear the crack of thunder directly overhead, accompanied simultaneously by the vivid flash of lightning.
“Trip,” he croaked, surprised by how weak he sounded. Then “Trip,” more strongly. The engineer’s eyes opened slowly at first and then more quickly as he heard the urgency in his friend’s voice.

“Jon?” he queried before feeling the problem for himself. Quickly he sat up and flexed his leg. Not too bad, if he didn’t think about it. Hurriedly he grabbed his jumpsuit and put it on before moving to look out of what remained of the viewscreen.

Abruptly he was slammed to the floor as the shuttle rocked again, more violently this time and water began to seep through the cracks in the screen. Scrambling to his feet, barely stopping to think Trip seized a couple of jackets and the medkit from the locker and moved to help Archer to his feet as the trickle quickly gave way to a torrent of water as the damaged screen gave up the battle to remain intact.

The sudden rush of water forced them both back and Trip struggled to regain his feet whilst supporting Archer against the torrent. Bracing himself he tried in vain to open the hatchway as the water quickly rose to waist height. Archer wedged himself into a corner and took the medkit from his friend. “We’re not floating,” he pointed out, trying to keep his voice calm to give Trip whatever strength he could. “Where did we crash?”

“Bottom of a gully up ‘gainst a rocky ledge, the water must be running down over the ledge,” Tucker grunted as he finally managed to persuade the hatch to creak open. The sight which greeted him was hardly more appealing than the inside of the shuttle but at least in the open they would have a chance of escaping the water which had now risen to chest height. He struggled back against the flow to help Archer. The captain was pale but looked determined, always a good sign. With difficulty and no little pain they made it over the hatch coaming and out onto a rocky surface covered in mud and the beginnings of a flood.

Within seconds they were drenched to the skin by the driving rain. Tucker put his arm around Archer’s waist and half dragged him towards the rocky outcrop furthest from the torrent of floodwater. Breathlessly they stopped for a moment to look back. The shuttle was rocking slowly under the onslaught and even as they watched it listed more than forty-five degrees before struggling to right itself.

“Time to move Capt’n,” Tucker said ruefully shifting his hold on his friend, with his leg broken moving at all was agony for Archer, let alone being able to walk on an uneven slippery surface.

“Which way?” Jon ground out.

“Up!” Trip slung the medkit over his shoulder with his free hand and reached out to the rock face grinding his teeth against the pain from his own leg.

TBC

Continue to Chapter 2

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