Chapter Text
It had seemed like a simple mission. Ehiztari IV was a Minshara class planet the Vulcans had mapped 98.3 years earlier. They’d used a complicated naming system based on galactic coordinates, stellar classification, and several other factors. The results were unpronounceable, even by Vulcans. Humans preferred names they could pronounce, so they modified the Vulcan names. The new names were based on sounds in the Vulcan names, rather than on meaning. T’Pol had been intrigued when Hoshi commented that ehiztari meant hunter in Basque.
Little was known about the planet; it was in a strategic position between the borders of the Romulan and Klingon Empires, and it appeared to be uninhabited. Ehiztari IV sounded like an ideal spot for an Earth colony with a substantial Starfleet and MACO presence. Admiral Gardner had tasked Enterprise with doing a preliminary survey.
After three days of intensive, focused study, T’Pol and her Science team had made extensive sensor readings from orbit that provided most of the necessary information. There was one crucial area in the Northern Hemisphere, however, where they could not get all the information they needed. Their readings suggested there had been a settlement there at one time, but they could not be sure how recently or if there were any current inhabitants. At that time of year, severe storms plagued the area; they disrupted travel, communications, and sensor readings. The storms often lasted for days. One was predicted to hit there in 2.3 hours.
“Captain, if we take a survey team to the planet immediately, we should be able to complete our work in 1.4 hours. That will leave an adequate safety margin,” T’Pol said during the morning senior staff meeting.
Archer sighed. “A barely adequate one, but Starfleet needs those results as soon as possible. Lieutenant Reed, Ensign Mayweather, you’re with T’Pol. Take whoever you need from Sciences.”
Crewmen Liz Cutler from Exobiology and Ken Kishiyama and Jordan Miller from Planetary Sciences met them at the shuttlepod.
On the way to the planet, T’Pol briefed each team member on what they needed to do. As they approached the survey area, the shuttle was rocked by turbulence from the gathering storm, but Ensign Mayweather guided them to a smooth landing.
Their landing zone was on a prairie that ended in foothills a half kilometer away. The sea of purple grass was interrupted in several places by stands of trees. The trees were similar to Terran conifers except their foliage had a violet hue. T’Pol did not see any buildings, but there were a few grass-covered mounds that looked as if they might cover the remnants of structures abandoned long ago.
As they left the shuttlepod, the team members focused on their tasks. Thirty-seven minutes after landing, T’Pol’s communicator beeped. Crewman Miller’s voice was distorted by static. “Ma’am, I’m getting strange readings here. It looks like there could be a crashed ship in this vicinity, but the readings aren’t clear.”
T’Pol oriented her scanner toward his position. She tried three Vulcan protocols his Starfleet scanner couldn’t run, but the results remained ambiguous. “The approaching storm is interfering with our scans, but it could be a crashed ship. There appear to be at least five humanoid life signs. Remain at your current position. I will rendezvous with you in less than one minute.”
Trip was lying on his back under the Engineering console on the Bridge. For the last twelve hours, he had been climbing, crawling, and working in tight spaces and awkward positions, tracking down a sensor malfunction. T’Pol had been complaining since they arrived at Ehiztari IV about an intermittent sensor ghost that was making it difficult for her team to complete their survey. Trip had been trying to find the cause of the problem since she first mentioned it, but it was elusive. As soon as he had adjusted a setting or replaced a component, he found another aberration.
Now he was almost finished with the repair. He was looking forward to a hot shower to wash away the grime and ease his sore muscles. Maybe T’Pol would complete her survey in time for a quiet dinner and some neuropressure. He’d hardly seen her for the last three days.
Her voice over the comm startled him. “T’Pol to Enterprise. We have a problem. There appears to be a crashed ship 427 meters from my current location. We are picking up life signs. They are faint, but that may be due to interference from the storm. We need to investigate. I am transmitting the exact coordinates.”
Archer shook his head. “You don’t have enough time to investigate that and to get the survey data we need. I’ll send another away team to the crash site.”
Trip pushed himself out from under the console and sat up. “Shuttlepod Two is down for repairs.”
Archer looked at Ensign Donahue, who was manning the Science station. “Are the atmospheric conditions okay for transporter use?”
She carefully surveyed her board. “Transporter use should be within acceptable safety margins for approximately another 46 minutes.”
He turned to his Chief Engineer. “Trip, I need you to transport down with a field medic and a security crewman and see what’s going on. You may have to hitch a ride on the shuttlepod to get back. It’ll be a little crowded.”
Trip smiled. “No problem. We’re friendly.” A crowded shuttle wasn’t his favorite spot for spending time with T’Pol, but at least he’d get to see her. If he got lucky, they’d be the last two in Decon.
When he arrived at the transporter, the medic, Crewman Jorge Mendez, and the security crewman, Alyssa Bennett, were waiting for him.
Trip always found materializing in a new place to be disorienting. The wind was stronger than he’d expected. If it continued to increase, Travis would have quite a challenge flying the shuttle back to Enterprise. Thunder rolled in the distance. Lightning wasn’t splitting the sky yet, but the smell of ozone told him what was coming. A fine mist hung in the air.
“Tucker to T’Pol. We’re approaching the crash site. What’s your status?”
“The storm appears to be coming in faster than expected. We are accelerating our survey and should be prepared to depart in twelve minutes.”
“Roger that. We’re checking out the crash site. I should have an ETA for you in five minutes.”
The storm was interfering with his scanner readings. It looked like they were about 100 meters from the crash site, which was at the bottom of a ravine. Trees and brush obscured his view; the darkening skies gave the purplish vegetation an ominous appearance. He could not tell if there were any life signs.
“Let’s go take a look,” Trip said. Bennett went first as they made their way down the rocky slope.
When they were nearing the bottom of the ravine, Bennett shouted, “Look!” and pointed to a large metallic object almost hidden from view by the foliage. She hurried toward it.
Trip still could not get clear readings on his scanner, but he saw what looked like an energy buildup. “Bennett, don’t go any…”
The explosion knocked him off his feet and left him dazed. Whatever that object had been, there were now only scraps of metal in a small crater. He looked around and didn’t see any sign of crash survivors.
He ran to Bennett’s side. Blood was trickling from her nose and ears. She was moaning softly but didn’t seem aware of anything around her. Mendez was scanning her.
“Is it safe to move her?” Trip asked. “I don’t think this is a good place for us to stay.”
“We can move her if we have to. She needs to get to Enterprise as soon as possible.”
Trip took out his communicator. “Tucker to Enterprise. There was an explosion at the crash site. We haven’t seen any sign of survivors from the crash. Bennett was injured in the explosion and needs to get to Phlox ASAP.”
Archer’s response was decisive. “Abort the mission. Get everyone to the shuttlepod and get back here as soon as you can.”
“Roger that. Tucker out.”
“Tucker to T’Pol. Whatever was at that crash site exploded and injured Bennett. No sign of any crash survivors. Captain wants us to abort the mission and return to Enterprise.”
“I will have my team rendezvous immediately at the shuttlepod and have Ensign Mayweather prepare for takeoff.”
“We should be at the shuttlepod in three minutes.”
Trip asked Mendez, “Are you OK? Can you carry her back to the shuttle?”
“No problem, sir.” He hoisted her gently into a fireman’s carry and set off briskly for the rendezvous site.
Trip followed with his phase pistol out, scanning for hostiles. Raindrops spattered on his screen. They were entering a clearing near the shuttlepod when T’Pol emerged from the woods a few meters away.
Suddenly he heard weapons fire; he saw T’Pol go down. For an appalling instant, he thought she was dead.
“T’Pol!” he screamed. He dove behind a fallen tree and returned fire.
There was no cover near Mendez; he ran to the shuttlepod, carrying his patient.
Trip could tell through the bond that T’Pol was unconscious but alive. He wanted desperately to go to her, but he had to provide fire to cover Mendez and Bennett’s escape.
Focus, Tucker! You have to get them all out of here.
“Tucker to Archer. T’Pol is hurt, and we can’t get back to the shuttle. Can you beam her out of here?”
“Negative, Trip. The storm has moved faster…” The rest of Archer’s utterance was lost in the increasing static. He adjusted the gain and noise suppression controls, but nothing he could do gave him a usable connection to the ship. He prayed he could still contact the rest of the away team.
“Tucker to Reed. T’Pol is down. I found cover behind a fallen tree, but I can’t get to the shuttlepod. How are things there?”
Malcolm’s voice was broken by static, but Trip could hear the tension in it. “We’re under fire too. Mendez and Bennett made it here. Kishiyama and Miller were both wounded. Cutler is treating them, but she said they need to get to the ship ASAP. Travis has the shuttlepod ready for takeoff. As soon as you and T’Pol are aboard, we’re out of here.”
“The storm is getting worse, and you have three wounded crewmen. You need to get out of here now!”
“Commander, we can’t leave you here.”
For Malcolm, protecting the Enterprise crew was a sacred duty. Trip knew abandoning two of his senior officers would be almost impossible for him. The fact that he was Malcolm’s closest friend made it even harder. He had to help him walk the fine line between his sense of duty and his devoted friendship to allow him to do what had to be done.
“You can, and you will. Now get out of here. That’s an order!”
“But, sir…!”
“No buts, Malcolm. You can come back for us as soon as the storm lifts. If you don’t leave now, we’ll all be stuck here.”
There was a long pause. “Aye, sir. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”