Forwarded by the ASC-VSO Posted: 24 May 2004 20:44:02 -0700 In: alt.startrek.creative From: daria@ameritech.net (Daria) Title: Salvage Author: Daria Series: ENT Part: 11/11 Rating: [PG-13] Codes: Tu, R Summary: After the disasterous mission on Dorlog, Trip and Reed try Beta: This was beta'ed by A. who did an amazing job. You have no idea how much she improved this story. Absolutely fabulous beta reader. The mistakes are mine for continuing to mess with it. Spoilers: Notably Minefield, Desert Crossing, Silent Enemy, The Catwalk, Shuttlepod One, and The Communicator, but possibly alludes slightly to other eps from the first two seasons. Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Paramount, not me. This is just for fun, not for profit. Feedback: Always appreciated, especially constructive criticism. A/N: I don't know if anyone is reading this, but if you are, thank you, and thanks for hanging in there so long! This is the final chapter. *** "Awwww! Geez, I'm sore," Trip said as he stood and tried to stretch his tight muscles. He was standing in front of the shelter. "I don't remember the last time I got as much as exercise as I did yesterday." "I'm feeling it as well," Malcolm said. "I suppose we should get moving again." "Let's eat a ration, first. It's gonna be a long day. Might as well start it well fed," Trip replied, rummaging through his pack. Malcolm turned, feeling the effects of the previous day, and he too began searching his pack. In their eagerness to put the complex behind them the day before, they hadn't stopped to eat, and last night he'd been too tired to be very hungry. Now there was a gnawing ache in the pit of his stomach. Finding what he wanted, he took a seat on a rock and tore the wrapping off the meal. For a while they ate in silence. It was going to be a long day, and it wasn't likely to be much fun. They had to climb the cliff and hike to the shuttlepod. It would be evening again before they reached it, and they'd still be a few hours from Enterprise. "I'm sure glad we left the climbing ropes in place. Should make it a little easier," Trip commented. Malcolm nodded, his mouth full of food. "I'm done. You?" Trip asked. Malcolm nodded again, as he finished chewing. Hurrying as much as their sore bodies would allow, they packed their gear and the shelter materials, and then they headed back along the base of the cliff, looking for where they had left their ropes. *** "I certainly hope no one found these ropes and has tampered with them," Malcolm said, giving his rope a tentative tug. It seemed secure. "I don't know who would have found them. We're kilometers from anybody or anything. Nobody would be foolish enough to come to this part of the planet." The implication of the comment hit them both simultaneously, and they laughed. Malcolm donned his harness and prepared to climb, but then stopped. "Commander... we rigged the extra rope. Why don't we tie the packs to it? Then we could climb without them, and when we get to the top, we'll just haul them up. That way, we can climb without being hindered by the extra weight." "Great idea, Malcolm!" Trip had no desire to climb with the heavy, awkward gear. They shed the packs, and tied them together on the end of the extra rope. "Now I'm glad you're so paranoid you insisted on setting a third rope," Trip said happily. "I'm not paranoid," Malcolm responded automatically, but without any real energy. After a last check of his safety rope, he started climbing. *** Two hours later they were only halfway up the cliff. Taking a break to drink from their canteens and eat the small snacks stuffed into their pockets, they studied the view. Trip turned his attention to the remainder of the climb. "Well, we're halfway up," he commented wearily, looking over at his climbing mate. "Or halfway down," Malcolm replied. The comment didn't really make any sense, but it struck the exhausted men as funny, and they began to laugh. Once started, neither could stop. Every time they looked at each other, they burst into new peals of mirth. "Stop, stop," Malcolm protested, snorting with laughter. "Oh, my side hurts!" "It's not me making you laugh," Trip managed. "I didn't say anything funny!" "Neither did I!" Malcolm replied, truthfully enough. This comment again struck them as incredibly amusing. The gales of laughter echoed off the cliff wall. It was some time before they had regained enough control to resume climbing. The cliff face appeared sheer, but it did have enough cracks and crevices to allow the men to find handholds and footholds. They had to stop frequently to place safety devices and to tie themselves off. As the climb drug on, their fingers cramped. They hadn't been far into the climb when they'd encountered an unexpected difficulty: Trip's burned hands, blistered and swollen, had difficulty grabbing the handholds and manipulating the safety rope. At one point he slipped and lost about ten feet; fortunately his safety line held. Still, it took him another fifteen minutes to regain the lost ground. When he reached Malcolm, the armory officer wordlessly rigged a safety line between the two and had taken the lead, setting the safety lines, and setting easy to grasp mechanical handholds. He moved carefully, not rushing his climbing partner, and gradually they made progress. It was another three hours later they were finally able to pull themselves over the lip of the cliff, barely clearing the edge before collapsing. They rested on the grass, too exhausted to even speak. Finally, Malcolm rolled over and raised himself to his hands and knees. He crawled to the edge and peered over it. He was glad heights didn't bother him, and equally glad he was still wearing the safety rope, in the event he went over the edge. The river below was just a ribbon, and he could barely make out their packs. "Long way down." Trip had joined him at the edge. "Want to pull the packs up now?" "No. But I guess we should. After all, we're up here, so I guess they should be too," Malcolm said, not making sense, but not caring. Trip shot him a look, but didn't comment. Instead, wincing at the discomfort in his hands, he began pulling the packs up. Malcolm reached over to stop him, grimacing at the engineer's now bloody hands. It was a laborious task to pull the heavy gear up the side of the cliff, but Trip looped the rope around a tree, and then tied the free edge around his waist so he could help Malcolm pull the packs up without further injury to his hands. They stopped frequently to tie off the rope and rest, but by the time the packs had been pulled over the edge, their remaining strength had been drained. "Glad you could join us," Trip addressed the inanimate objects at his side. Malcolm half-snorted, half-chuckled. His laughter sparked Trip's, and within seconds they had again lost control. They were still chuckling when they donned the packs and set off to the shuttlepod. In their weary states everything struck them as amusing, and they pointed out to each other all the humorous things they say on the way back, occasionally having to stop to catch their breaths. *** "Home sweet home!" Trip caught sight of the shuttlepod first. They trudged the last few hundred meters to the craft. Tossing their packs and equipment into it, they climbed in and collapsed into their seats. Malcolm sighed with pleasure. "Oh this is lovely. I never thought a shuttlepod seat would feel so wonderful." Automatically he pulled out the checklist and they ran through it, working efficiently, despite their fatigue. When they had finished, Trip hit the communications console. "Shuttlepod One to Enterprise." "This is Enterprise." Hoshi's welcome voice was followed almost immediately by Archer's. "Commander Tucker! Lieutenant Reed! I take it everything went according to plan?" "Well... we had to improvise some," Trip hedged. "We'll tell you all about it when we get up there." "Everything okay, Trip?" "Yeah, Captain, everything's just fine. We're ready to get home. See you in a little while." Trip closed the communications channel. Malcolm had completed the pre-flight checklist. Feeling as though he were fighting through molasses, having to force his limbs into action, Malcolm assisted Trip in getting the shuttlepod into orbit. Once clear of the planet, he set the course, and then, taking a deep, tired breath, leaned back in his chair. "I can't wait to get a nice, hot shower," Trip said, also getting comfortable in his seat. "That does sound wonderful," Malcolm agreed. "How is your sunburn?" "Oh, it isn't too bad." Trip's drawl was pronounced, a sure sign he was exhausted. "You finally warming up?" "The climb did that quite nicely," Malcolm yawned. "I'll be glad to sleep in my own soft, warm bunk tonight." "Forget tonight. I'm hitting the hay the instant we get out of decon." "What about the report? The captain will want to know--" "The captain will wait," Trip said with certainty. "Absolutely nothin that can't wait--" he, too, yawned deeply, "till tomorrow." "I suppose." Malcolm remained silent for a few moments. "We really got lucky. This mission could have easily gone awry--" "But it didn't," Trip said forcefully. He moved to sit up straight, and turned to look at Malcolm. "We got it done. We aren't going to have to worry about this anymore. Ever." He repeated the word, firmly. "Ever." Malcolm smiled, understanding that Trip meant more than this specific mission. "No. It's over now." They fell silent again, a comfortable, companionable silence. Malcolm leaned against the seat cushions, staring ahead, not really paying attention to anything, just enjoying the release of tension. He yawned again. He couldn't sleep here; they were still on duty, and he was the navigator... Malcolm's eyes snapped open. Trip was watching him from the corner of his eye and grinning. "You snore." "I most certainly do not!" "Yeah you do." Deciding there was no way to win this argument, Malcolm ignored the last comment, and ran his eyes over the navigation console. All was well there, so he finally raised his eyes to find Trip still grinning. "Don't worry. I won't tell you fell asleep at the controls, Lieutenant," Trip teased. "I didn't-- okay, I guess I did," Malcolm admitted. Trip chuckled. "Don't feel bad. I drifted there a moment myself. We'll just keep it to ourselves. But we gotta stay awake until we get to Enterprise. It's about a half hour away now." Malcolm nodded, suppressing yet another yawn that threatened to undermine his intentions. "How are we going to manage that?" His eyes drifted closed again. "Want to play a game?" "No, not really. Too tired to focus." "Come on, Lieutenant. We've got to stay awake." "Okay. What game do you suggest?" "Twenty questions?" "Fine. I'll start..." Malcolm swallowed another yawn, and Trip chuckled. They played the game until they were back on Enterprise. *** Archer met them as they left decon. "Congratulations, gentlemen. I've had Hoshi and T'Pol conducting scans. The weapons and generator were completed destroyed. And the natives have their old power system at fifty percent capacity already. T'Pol estimates that within two days they'll have restored their power levels to what they were before they were given the generator." Trip and Malcolm both smiled at the news, but neither spoke. Archer could see their exhaustion, but there was also a sense of relief, an ease that hadn't been between them when they'd left. Something good happened down there, he thought. "Dr. Phlox wants to take a quick look at you, and then you're relieved of duty for the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I'll want a report in the morning, but then take the rest of it off, too." "Aye, sir," Malcolm said. "Won't argue with that, Captain," Trip added. Both men took seats on biobeds, and Archer left them, pleased that for once an away mission ended with the entire team intact. *** "Tired, worn out, one half-frozen, the other half-fried... and quite pleased with themselves." That was how Phlox reported to the captain on the condition of the triumphantly returned away team a short time later. "So they're okay?" the captain asked, not quite certain how to interpret the doctor's rather odd report. "They're fine... like I said, just exhausted, a few blisters. I would have released them, but by the time I was done with the examination, they were both sound asleep, so I didn't disturb them. When they wake up I'll send them to their quarters to sleep some more. Other than that... they don't need my services at all. In fact, this is one of the rare occasions when I don't feel that either should stay in sickbay overnight, which is rather unexpected, considering who we're talking about. Startling, really." Archer smiled. "You didn't tell them, did you?" "Of course not, Captain! You made it clear that you wanted to see their faces when they saw the 'surprise' you have for them." "Good. Call me when they wake up." *** "...So I drug his half-drowned carcass out of the tunnel. We used that idea you had when we were stuck on that desert planet-- you know, heating rocks with the phaser, to warm up..." Trip rambled on, stopping only to shove another forkful of food into his mouth. They were having breakfast in the Captain's Mess, so they could eat while giving their report. Archer glanced sharply over at Malcolm at the mention of the flooded control room, but Malcolm was eating and listening to Trip, interjecting to correct the engineer when he began to exaggerate the report. If being in the water had distressed Malcolm, he didn't show it, and it was obvious that Trip still didn't know about the armory officer's phobia. Finally, Trip wound down, and turned his attention back to his meal. "Anything to add, Malcolm?" Archer asked. "No, sir. I think the Commander covered it quite adequately. Although he did leave out the part about thoroughly frying his hands. It was quite commendable that he was able to continue." The tone of respect in the armory officer's voice was unexpected. Archer studied the two officers, pleased that the change he'd thought he noticed in sickbay was real. More had gone on than they'd told him, but that was their business. Still, he was curious. Maybe Trip would tell him someday. He put that thought aside. Now that he had their report, he had something to tell them. "Lieutenant, Commander-- I have news for you." Both turned to him expectantly. "After you destroyed the complex on the planet, while we were waiting for you to return to Enterprise, we noticed a small ship leaving orbit from around the planet. Since we know that the Vericans don't have space travel yet we were naturally curious. To make a long story short, we have three Dorlogians in the brig. We're returning them to Dorlog." "Really?" Malcolm asked. His tone was polite but disinterested. It was not the reaction Archer expected. Trip's reaction was equally surprising. "That's good, Captain. Hey, Malcolm, what are you going to do today?" "I need you to identify them if you can. They're claiming they were 'just visiting' on the planet," Archer said, wondering if they'd understood what he said. "Oh... oh, sure, Captain. Want us to do that now for ya?" Trip asked, while Malcolm, whose mouth was full, raised his eyebrows in polite question. "Umm... yes, if you think you're ready." "Sure, why wouldn't I be? You, Malcolm?" Malcolm wiped his mouth and discarded his napkin. "Of course, Commander. Captain, is now convenient?" Archer nodded, feeling a little unreal. He'd been certain there would be some sort of reaction from the two officers. He hadn't know exactly what it would be-- delight in the capture of the men who'd set them up, anger, trepidation at facing the Dorlogians... anything but this lack of interest. Archer trailed his officers as they headed toward the brig, still surprised they weren't more pleased at the capture of the criminals. Malcolm nodded a greeting to the security crewman who was guarding the prisoners. Glancing into the brig he nodded. "The one there, on the right, is Corman. He runs a major smuggling syndicate. All three were at the complex on the planet, but I don't know the names of his associates. Do you, Commander?" Malcolm could have been commenting on the weather. Archer searched the armory officer's face for a hint of emotion, but Malcolm's face revealed nothing. "Nope. Corman is the only one I know by name, but they were all on the planet. Glad you caught 'em, Captain. I'm sure the Dorlogian government will be real happy." "Yes," Archer managed. He had prepared himself to deal with his officer's emotions, and now he felt off-balance. The three officers walked away from the cargo bay, out of earshot of the prisoners and guard. "Are you both alright?" "Sure, Captain." Trip sounded surprised that the captain had felt the need to ask. "Certainly, Captain. These...gentlemen..." there was the faintest hint of disgust in Malcolm's tone, but no other sign of emotion, "no longer concern us. They don't have our technology, and they're going to trial on their home world. They can't do any more harm." He turned to Trip. "Commander, on the planet didn't you mention something about enjoying chess? Interested in a game?" Turning to the captain he added, "We are still off-duty today, correct, sir?" Archer just nodded. Realizing his mouth had dropped open, he closed it with a snap. "Yeah, a game sounds good," Trip said. "I'll get my board." Archer listened to the exchange, unsure what to think. Trip and Malcolm were already moving away from him, heading toward Trip's quarters, presumably to retrieve the board. As they turned the corner, Archer heard Malcolm add a last comment: "Be forewarned, Commander-- I won't be taking it easy on you... even if you are my friend." The End *** -- Forwarded to ASCL by: Stephen Ratliff ASC Stories Only Forwarding In the Pattern Buffer at: http//trekiverse.crosswinds.net/feed/ ASCL is a stories-only list, no discussion. Comments and feedback should be directed to alt.startrek.creative or directly to the author. Yahoo! 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