Unseen Peril - Chapter 7

Unseen Peril

by Vanishingp2000

For disclaimer see Chapter 1.

~~~~~

Chapter 7

“We have miscalculated. It is harder to block the thoughts of the one than we had realised.”

“Then we must wait on the others.”

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

“That’s the last of it Sub Commander.” Travis Mayweather moved towards the transporter platform as he spoke. “Anything else will have to be transported directly to the cargo bay, it’s too big for here.”

“We shall analyse the pieces we have here first Ensign,” T’Pol replied. “Have them taken to the science laboratory please.”

“Aye aye,” Mayweather acknowledged. “Still no sign of the black box?”

T’Pol inclined her head. “None, but I am also now convinced that we cannot see the whole of the wreckage.”

“Perhaps it has been swept away, those seas are pretty mountainous.”

“Perhaps,” T’Pol was non-committal. “When you have secured the wreckage we have aboard please go over the sensor data from your shuttle again, compare it with the scans we have taken from Enterprise. Any discrepancy should be noted and reported at once.”

“Yes Sir,” Travis replied at once before calling for a maintenance crew to help him move the wreckage of shuttlepod two.

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

“Get him out of there,” Archer commanded but Phlox was already moving to open the imaging chamber. The screams had stopped but whether or not that was a good thing Archer had no time to speculate.

The door opened and Tucker was wheeled out on the couch. His face was ashen and he was unconscious. Quickly Phlox passed a hand scanner over him and sighed in relief as he reached for a hypo. “No harm done Captain,” he reassured Archer who was hovering impatiently.

“Did you get any results at all?” the captain asked.

“None I’m afraid but it does seem as though the imaging chamber is no longer an option either,” Phlox replied, busying himself with Tucker.

“This is putting a great strain on his systems Captain,” the doctor continued. “Each incident is having a cumulative effect.”

“I’ll go check in with T’Pol and Malcolm,” Archer said, casting a last look down at his friend. “I’d like to know why Malcolm isn’t affected in the same way. Let me know when Trip wakes up.”

“Of course Captain,” Phlox replied vaguely, sparing the captain little of his attention as the latter left the room.

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

Archer made his way to the science lab, half of his mind still with his friend in sickbay. The doors opened on purposeful silence. T’Pol was alternating between taking readings with her scanner and inputting data at a console whilst Reed was reviewing the scans of the shuttle crash. His face was thoughtful, a far cry from the blank look that had come over Tucker when he viewed the same scenes.

“Anything?” Archer asked of them both.

Reed looked up but waited for T’Pol to answer first. “I am convinced that there is insufficient wreckage here to account for the shuttlepod Captain,” she began. “However, it does seem that the wreckage is beyond the reach of the tide.”

“So it couldn’t have been washed away?”

“I do not believe so Captain.”

Archer pulled a face, each answer they came up with deepened the mystery. “Malcolm?” he asked.

“Nothing at all I’m afraid Sir, my mind is a complete blank, it doesn’t even feel as though I’ve forgotten anything.” He frowned, “I’m sorry that doesn’t make a lot of sense.”

“The one thing we do know for certain is that you suffered a serious concussion,” Archer mused, “so it is not surprising you can’t remember much.”

They looked up as the door to the lab opened and Mayweather entered bearing armfuls of wreckage salvaged by the transporter. He was followed by the maintenance crew similarly laden. T’pol immediately moved over with her scanner. Her eyebrows twitched, a veritable display of emotion. “These pieces have been subjected to great pressure Captain,” she began, “they have clearly been exposed to water at extreme depth.”

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

“We now have access to critical systems.”

“I will be swift.”

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

Trip opened his eyes gingerly and blinked several times before finally focussing on Phlox who stood looking down at him.

“How are you feeling Mr Tucker?” the doctor asked quietly, at the same time consulting his readouts and scanner.

“Tired,” Trip acknowledged, “and thirsty.”

Phlox smiled and reached out to the night stand for the glass of water that stood there. He helped the engineer to raise his head and held the glass as he drank a little of the clear liquid. Neither noticed the unusual sparkle that made the water shimmer slightly in the light.

“Thanks Doc,” Trip eased back down onto the pillow feeling drained. “What happened this time?”

“You don’t remember?” Phlox countered. “What happened in the imaging chamber?”

Tucker shook his head. “I remember going in,” he said slowly, “the scan began but then there was an intense pain.” He shivered. “I can’t remember anything else.”

Phlox frowned, “I was unable to attain any readings due to the adverse affects on you.” He looked across as the doors opened and Archer walked in. “Ah Captain, I was just about to call you,” he said cheerfully, “Mr Tucker is, as you see, awake.”

Archer smiled as he strode across to the biobed. He looked enquiringly at the doctor who shook his head, nothing new.

“T’Pol has recovered some of the shuttle wreckage,” he began, watching Tucker closely for any sign of distress. Trip nodded at him to continue. “It seems that the wreckage was subjected to intense pressure,” he paused again, “under water.”

Trip closed his eyes, breathing deeply, searching his memory. Something flickered at the edge of his consciousness, almost within reach, almost tangible and then, nothing. Not a trace, his mind was as blank as before. He sighed in frustration and opened his eyes. “Thought I had something for a moment there,” he muttered.

“How is your head?” Archer asked anxiously.

“Fine,” Tucker raised his eyebrows as the implications sank in. “Fine,” he repeated slowly chewing his lip thoughtfully.

Archer looked pensive, hesitant to ask but one look at his friend showed that Tucker was already one step ahead of him. The engineer’s brow was creased as he strove to remember what had happened down on the planet. Eventually he lay back and relaxed against his pillow a look of irritation clouding his features.

“Nothing?” Archer asked quietly.

“Nothing,” Tucker repeated. “No pain either for that matter but there’s just nothing there.”

“No headache is progress of a sort,” Jon suggested, “maybe you’ll remember more in a while. Just be patient.”

“Hmph,” Tucker retorted wiping his forehead which suddenly felt slightly clammy. “Patient.”

Jon smiled slightly at his friend’s discomfort. “Patient,” he repeated. “Malcolm can’t remember anything either.”

“T’Pol to Captain Archer.”

Archer moved to answer the hail. “Archer.”

“Captain, several major systems are failing across the ship, including life support.”

Archer paled as the significance of T’Pol’s news struck home but she was still speaking. “Life support is only failing in certain areas of the ship, the Mess Hall remains unaffected.”

The captain shared a concerned glance with his chief engineer who was already getting up from the bed before replying. “Get all crew into the Mess Hall at once and have the EV suits collected.” He coughed as the effects of the thinning atmosphere became apparent. “Doc,” he called, “get to the Mess Hall quickly.”

“It’s getting hotter,” Trip said.

“And more humid,” Phlox supplied bustling up with several of his animal cages in tow. “These creatures will not survive without air; the others can survive for an hour or so.” He was about to pass a cage across to Archer when the captain doubled over slightly, straining for air.

“The air is venting rapidly,” Trip exclaimed, reaching out a hand to support his friend. “Much more quickly than it should. We need to get to the Mess Hall.” He grabbed the cage from Phlox with his other hand and made his way towards the door.

Phlox followed looking curiously at the engineer who seemed to have shed his tiredness and was moving much more easily than the captain or the other crew members hurrying through the corridors. Adrenaline was a powerful stimulant, perhaps enough he mused, determining to keep a close eye on Tucker nonetheless.

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

Archer’s party was among the last of the groups to stagger into the Mess Hall. All around the room crew members were struggling to get their breath back and to adjust to the sudden change in circumstances. T’Pol entered last of all, moving with relative ease, and made her way across to the captain.

“I find it hard to believe that this is a breakdown in the conventional sense Captain,” she began.

“Too selective you mean?” Tucker interrupted.

“Indeed,” T’Pol acknowledged, “the Mess Hall is the only area with life support and the EV suits are damaged.”

“Damaged? “ Archer ground out, his face still showing the signs of his struggle to breathe.

“Unfortunately each of the seals has been corroded Captain, we have brought them with us but it will take some time to complete repairs.”

“You said several major systems,” Trip spoke up, chewing his lip. “What’s our status?”

“We are still in orbit, as you are no doubt aware,” T’Pol gestured slightly out of the viewport. “However all access to manoeuvring has been restricted to engineering and attempts to regain control have failed. Life support has been limited to the Mess Hall and overall temperature and humidity have been significantly increased.”

“Any air in the Captain’s mess?” Tucker asked succinctly.

“I do not believe so. Why do you wish to know?”

“There’s access to the ship’s database from there, from here we can’t access the computer at all.”

“Yet another reason to suspect sabotage.” Archer spoke grimly, in full control of himself again. He looked around the room as if to seek out the culprit.

“Surely you can’t suspect any of the crew Capt’n?” Tucker broke in.

“No, not in their right mind at least,” the captain broke off as Reed bustled up.

“Everyone accounted for Sir, including Porthos,” he added unnecessarily as the beagle bounded over to his master.

Archer fondled the dog’s ears absentmindedly before reaching up to wipe the sweat off his brow. “Any idea what’s causing the temperature increase?” he asked.

“It could be a system overload,” Tucker speculated, “but it doesn’t feel like it.” At T’Pol’s sceptical look he continued “no vibrations, unusual noises.” He shrugged, “I’m an engineer.”

“Indeed,” she replied. “I believe that we should start with what we know. The ship is no longer under our control but whether that is as a result of a catastrophic systems failure or the hand of another is, as yet, unknown.”

Tucker shook his head thoughtfully “I can’t think of anything that would cause a selective failure like this.”

“Agreed.”

“So where does that leave us?” Archer asked quietly. “How long before we can use the suits?”

“I have a team working on them Captain,” Reed said, “best estimate is another hour.”

“An hour?” Tucker interrupted, frustration showing plainly on his face. “I need to get down to engineering.”

“Take it easy Trip,” Archer admonished gently, unbuttoning the top of his uniform in an attempt to get more comfortable in the rising heat. “I take it the life support situation remains unchanged?”

T’Pol consulted her scanner. “Unfortunately Captain,” she began. “However the temperature and humidity have continued to rise. Temperatures throughout the ship now stand at 45 degrees.”

Tucker threw her a disgusted glance. “What about life signs?”

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

“We must use the one as we cannot control the other.”

“And then our work can really begin.”

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

“I am getting anomalous readings,” T’Pol stated flatly.

“What do you mean by that?” Tucker asked bluntly.

“When I scan for life signs my results are inconclusive.”

Tucker narrowed his eyes and glared at the scanner in her hand whilst Reed, more practically, stated, “Weapons are offline, even supposing we could access them.”

Archer listened to the exchange in silence, allowing his senior officers to discuss strategies. He’d found it invaluable in the past to let their views coalesce with his own before making his decisions. He watched as the normally dapper armoury officer loosened the collar of his uniform and wiped his face, the temperature had risen to uncomfortable levels and he accepted a drink gratefully from the selection which Chef offered.

Drinking quickly Jon looked at the crew around him, trying to keep his thoughts in focus. Reed was taking his own readings and frowning at the results, Trip had returned T’Pol’s scanner and was drinking thirstily, his eyes glazed. Concerned, Archer was about to ask his friend if he was alright when Tucker abruptly turned on his heel and, in front of the astounded crew, marched out into the airless corridor.

TBC

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