The First Years: Chapter 3

Codes: A/T'P. Living through bad times and good times.

Rating: PG-13.

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Summary: T'Pol's command decisions come back to haunt her. Chapter broke into two parts.

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A/N: The Ryan parts were hard to write. I don't like him. His wasn't the only part I had trouble writing. This chapter has other things that were hard to write or things like action that don't show up in my writing that often. Some parts of this chapter may not appeal to everyone. I hope that this chapter is entertaining or at least entertaining in parts to readers. If not, the next chapter will be different than this and more like last chapter.

There are brief descriptions of violence and acts of desperation. A description of the condition described later in this chapter would not be possible without W.J. McGee's 1906 dramatic medical description reprinted in the Summer 1988 edition of Journal of the Southwest.

ooooooo

Rumors spread about the colony's resident Vulcan within hours of her arrival. Most of the rumors were short-lived. One was more dangerous than the others. It was mostly true. Whispered from the mouth of one of the colonial leaders, it traveled faster than the stench of roofing sealant through the constructions sites, into the crowded ships housing the colonists, over the network of water pipes being laid, and to a group of non-descript buildings on the outskirts of the colony. Slipping through the open hanger doors of the scrap yard, it wormed its way through the aisles of beds, lights, toilets, and other items salvaged from the interiors of ships. Next door, it skimmed over the sheets of flexi-glass intended to hug the curves of a greenhouse's structure. In the machine shop, it managed to distract the attention of the men and women making and fixing tools and machines away from the noise of the grinding, welding, and shaping of metal. Its last stop was the ship repair hanger near the landing field.

One man heard the news and froze. He finished rebuilding the hard drive of an old two-man asteroid mining craft, and walked over to his supervisor to see if there was more work for the day. With nothing else to do, he headed home. Sparks from welder’s torches reattaching a shuttle wing glittered off the gold oval locket around his neck as he left the building. He walked back to his quarters and sank into the bottom bunk. He started thinking about what he could do about the T’Pol problem.

oooooo

Archer stepped outside the tent and padded across rust red sandstone barefoot. He passed a campfire that now was little more than a pile of smoldering ashes on the way to his destination. The only other person in this distant portion of the desert sat cross-legged on the ground wearing a loose shirt and pants. Archer rarely saw T’Pol out-of-uniform and he almost didn’t recognize her in the gray twilight before sunrise. Archer walked over to stand beside her. His gaze followed hers out to the vast canyon below them. The questions in his head were forgotten as the beauty of the place overwhelmed him. He sat down beside her on the edge of the canyon rim meditating on the scene with her.

This place reminded him of the Grand Canyon except the fissures, eroded through the rock by the river and the streams that fed it, looked deeper. Layers of red, orange, tan, turquoise, gray, and black alternated through the rocks that towered above the dark recesses of the canyon floor. The sun began to rise above the horizon and shine through gaps in the cottony clouds spotlighting sections of the canyon with soft yellow rays.

Archer looked to his left and watched T’Pol. She continued to meditate on the sunrise. Her eyes and face glowed under the intensifying yellow light. An image of her meditating over a candle flame came to his mind. A breeze picked up strands of her hair and tossed them about. Archer lightly smiled. She looked at peace. She looked beautiful.

T’Pol eyes connected with his and she turned to him. She saw the man he used to be again in the way he looked at her and in the slight upturn of his lips. She was illogically afraid to speak. When she spoke the man who didn’t know the pain of Earth’s destruction would disappear. She wanted him to be happy today, but knew she couldn’t withhold the truth from him.

The questions would come soon enough. The explanations would follow. For now, the need to hold onto the moment gripped both of them. T’Pol blinked when she realized her emotions had overridden her logic. She guided Archer away from the canyon rim and over to sit beside the campfire. Pushing her feelings aside, she told him the story she knew so well.

ooooooo

The locket was shipped to me in a box of my mother’s possessions after her funeral. I pushed the box to the back of the closet. It gathered dust there for three months before I brought it out and looked through the contents again.

Opening the locket, I saw you, my smiling Tressa. Your porcelain skin and beautiful brown eyes looked back at me my love. Long curly locks of chocolate hair framed your face. Our baby boy smiled back at me from the other side of the locket.

Do you remember how up until he turned one, a lock of hair stuck up from the front of his head like a horn? You nicknamed him baby rhino. That was so long ago. Jacob was nine years old at the time I received the box. You had already moved with Jacob back to Earth six months before then to care for your father. No, I don’t blame you for going away. He was slowly wasting away and he needed you. I shoved the box and its contents in the back of my closet and forgot about it for a few years.

Your message came to me several days after Earth’s destruction. You looked at the screen beaming. You still looked as beautiful as you did back when I took the pictures in the locket. I knew what you were going to say before you said it. Your skin glowed in that way I hadn’t seen in eleven years, since you were pregnant with Jacob. I closed my eyes remembering the month we spent together on leave. Yes, I know you weren’t more than three months pregnant when the Xindi…

“…I talked with my doctor. She told me I’m carrying a healthy baby girl.” Your hands caressed the subtle curve of your belly. Your smile covered your face and echoed in your eyes. You looked so beautiful. So happy, so alive. I miss you so much.

I heard bits and pieces of the rest of the message. I reached out my hand and stroked your face on the screen. Tears spilled from my eyes and slid down my face.

I hung the locket around my neck as a reminder of you, Jacob, and our angel. Inside of it is all that remains of my heart, our family. Two photos entombed in a metal case almost as cold as my heart.

People told me the pain would get better and that the hollowness in my chest would lessen. They lied. Every day it hurts as much as the last. I can’t forget. I can’t move on. I can’t get over it. Like people want me to. You know this.

Now I hear your sweet voice again. Yes, I know I have to hide you from them. They will want to take you away from me. Don’t worry. I will never let them tear us apart.

The anger came when you were gone. I was angry at myself for letting you and Jacob stay on Earth after the Xindi probe attacked. I was angry with Starfleet for saying they would protect Earth. I was angry with myself for trusting them. I was angry the most with the Xindi for destroying Earth and everything I cared about.

When the rumors spread about the Vulcan came, I knew I’d found one of the people responsible. Rumor after rumor increased my anger. The latest rumor you wouldn’t believe Tressa. How could they allow a captain who intentionally damaged her ship retain command? How could they not punish her now for failing to prevent your death and the deaths of billions? I don’t understand how the community leaders could be so blind Tressa. Sometimes I wonder if I am the only one who sees that justice must be done.

The Vulcan needs to pay for not saving Earth and our family. The council would probably just put her in jail, or worse, let her go. She needs to hurt for what she took from us. Don’t trouble yourself with this in heaven, my love. I will take care of everything. Give a kiss to Jacob and our angel for me. I will see you before long.

ooooooo

“So I guess I finally got to take you camping,” Archer smiled at T’Pol. He was attempting to strike up a conversation unrelated to the news she’d dropped on him earlier this morning.

“Camping?” T’Pol asked. Between them the campfire crackled and popped. The waning embers still generated enough heat to ward off the chill of morning.

“When we were hulled up in the catwalk of Enterprise with the rest of the crew, I asked you if you’d ever been camping. You said in a way you had. The kahswan you mentioned sounded very different from camping. This,” Archer gestured at their surroundings and at the tent behind them, “is camping.”

“Indeed,” T’Pol neutrally said as she turned her attention to the campfire. Smoke puffed out of the spout of a shiny metal pot on the campfire. T’Pol picked up the pot and poured the boiling water into two cups and placed tea bags in each.

“Have all the places we’ve surveyed been like this?”

T’Pol looked around comparing her surroundings with other places they surveyed. A blue-green ribbon of water ran through the distant depths of the canyon. Behind them wind-beaten trees and scraggily bushes clung onto the rusty red rocks.

Animal life was scarce along the canyon rim. A few varieties of lizards hid under the rocks when Archer or T’Pol walked by earlier. Small flightless birds scratched the ground for seeds and insects to feed their young back in their nests burrowed in the sandstone. This place unfortunately had no plant or animal of interest to the colony.

“We have surveyed variety of plant and animal life each as unique as the places they inhabit.”

“I wish I could remember those places,” Archer whispered. She wished he could too. “How long have we been doing these surveys?”

“Two months, two weeks, and five days,” At his astonished look she continued, “We return to the colony in between surveying our designated areas to resupply and turn our findings over for processing.”

He chuckled and gave her a small grin. “I can’t believe you’ve survived me this long.”

T’Pol raised both eyebrows and asked, “You believe I’m incapable of adapting to living with you?”

“No. I meant I’m not the easiest person to live with. Margaret couldn’t stand my bad habits. She wouldn’t move in with me. I couldn’t blame her. I was a total slob in flight school.”

“Margaret?”

Suddenly the glowing red coals mixed among the gray ashes of the dying campfire were very interesting to Archer. He sighed. After all this time, it still hurt to think about her.

“She was someone I was serious about,” he moved the conversation back to something more comfortable, “What happened with her isn’t important. She wasn’t my only girlfriend that didn’t like some of my quirks.”

T’Pol filed the information about Margaret away. She wanted to know more about this woman who hurt him, but didn’t want to urge him to talk about a painful subject.

“What ‘quirks’ are you speaking of?” T’Pol sipped from her tea.

“I’ve heard I snore loudly.”

T’Pol agreed. His snoring initially interrupted her sleep at night. Over time, she grew accustomed to it and it no longer woke her up.

“Even though I try to be neat, I slip up now and then.”

Now and then was an understatement. She’d catch him piling his dirty laundry up on his side of the tent almost every day. When she politely pointed it out, he would pack them away. He also had a habit of sometimes talking while he ate.

“I can be real… irritable in the morning some days.”

T’Pol noticed this too. She knew when to give him space and allow him to wake up. He wasn’t usually rude to her, just not in a good mood. On the rare occasions he was rude to her, he apologized.

“I’m a cover hog and I’ve been known to roll around in my sleep. But I guess you don’t have to worry about that.”

She didn’t have to deal with him stealing covers, but he did sometimes roll in his sleeping bag over to her side of the tent. His nocturnal antics amused her. She didn’t know how he could roll while inside a sleeping bag, and on top of that, not wake up. Whispering to him to move back to his side of the tent wouldn’t work. The first time she tried it he woke up and his eyes widened when he saw her sleeping next to him in a small tent. That was the first day she’d ever told him of recent events at 0500 in the morning. He rolled over to her side of the tent six times since then. She watched his sleeping face inches from her own and watched his breathing. He looked peaceful in his sleep. No hint of the pain he felt each day showed on his face. T’Pol would close her eyes and try to ignore his breath blowing on her lips, cheek, eyelids, or hair.

“I have dealt with many of the things you mentioned. Cohabitating with you has so far been a fascinating experience.”

Archer raised his own eyebrows creasing his forehead. He smiled. “I’m afraid to ask what fascinating things you’re referring to.”

T’Pol opened her mouth to respond. Her communicator chirped interrupting her. T’Pol took it from her belt and opened it.

“Commander Tyler to T’Pol.”

“T’Pol here.” T’Pol was surprised to hear from Tyler herself. She’d been in contact only with Lt. Nguyen over the past few weeks.

“Are you finished with your survey of site 27Alpha?”

“Yes. I was going to contact you later this morning to inform you we will fly back to the colony today.”

“Good. Report to me when you reach the colony. A situation has developed. Tyler out.”

After packing up their campsite, they walked the short distance to their shuttlepod. A few hours of flight, and they were back at the colony.

ooooooo

I am thankful for the jobs I had before I found the position at Jupiter station. I worked on mining, merchant, and cargo ships learning how to upkeep dozens of different computer systems. One job in particular is proving useful now.

After I graduated from college, I found a position on an old ore cruncher, as the miners called it. We hopped from asteroid to asteroid in the belt between Mars and Jupiter. I kept the ancient Omega 5 computer of the ship and the newer computers on the shuttles running. I also learned a few new things during the year I stayed on that ship. Like how to make explosives. Sometimes conventional explosives are in short supply, and miners can be very resourceful.

An explosive can be made cheaply and concealed in unexpected objects. Care must be taken when making one. That’s where a steady hand, a sharp mind, and patience come in hands. Years spent soldering wires to motherboards come in handy here.

I can’t lie to you Tressa, as I place the explosive device in this metal box among the computer chips and hardware, I feel pride. Pride not in this weapon, but the justice it will bring for you and all humans.

ooooooo

Archer stared in awe of the colony outside of the shuttlepod unaware that he’d done the same thing a few weeks ago. The colony had changed since then. Some of the buildings were finished or near completion. The first houses were under construction. T’Pol guided him through the colony toward the administration building. Along the way, Archer noticed people stopping to watch them pass by. Some of them would say something to the person beside them. Others would just stare with barely restrained hostility, disgust, or curiosity. Archer wondered if they were reacting to T’Pol as Vulcan or if there was another reason. Archer soon found out the other reason in Commander Tyler’s office.

“T’Pol. Archer. Good to see you well,” Tyler answered in a business-like manner.

T’Pol answered Tyler evenly, “It is pleasant to see you again.”

“I’ll go over your findings and specimens later. I have a more pressing matter to discuss with you. I’m surprised your contact on the council didn’t get word to you. During recent remote-conference meetings of the community leader council, you became a topic of discussion.”

T’Pol raised her left eyebrow. “I see.”

“No, I don’t think you do. This is serious, T’Pol. Rumors have been spreading about you. The one about your piloting stunt delaying Enterprise’s mission six months caught the attention of colonists and the community leaders.”

Archer jumped to her defense, having heard the story himself this morning, “Wait a minute. In that situation any captain might have done the same thing.”

“People are looking for someone to blame and punish. The Xindi aren’t available, but T’Pol is.” Tyler sighed. “Several members of the council pushed for a trial during the meeting.”

T’Pol remained silent. Archer didn’t. “What? So they want to make T’Pol a scapegoat?”

“In their minds she’s guilty of negligent command decisions leading to the Xindi weapon not being destroyed.”

Archer leaned forward. His voice betrayed his frustration, “That’s crazy. T’Pol didn’t launch the weapon. The Xindi did. We need stop this. We need to-“

“Jonathan,” T’Pol said stoically placing a hand on his forearm. She continued in a softer voice, “If the colony leaders see fit to hold a trial for my actions as captain, I will not resist.”

“I don’t think you will have to worry about a trial,” Tyler interjected, “The council adjourned for several days then reconvened and reviewed evidence. They saw no reason to for a trial at this time”

Archer looked down sighing then looked up at Tyler. “Why do I get the feeling this won’t be the last time T’Pol’s command decisions will be discussed by the council.”

“My gut tells me the same thing. Unfortunately, some people will not agree with the council’s decision. They will attempt to bring more persuasive arguments before the council.”

T’Pol pointed out another possibility, “If their attempts fail, those individuals may seek other means of attaining justice.”

Archer swallowed thinking of what that meant. He met eyes with T’Pol. Her look tried to reassure him, but he didn’t feel better.

“I agree. Your safety may be in jeopardy. I strongly suggest you consider moving back to Enterprise. There is no police force here to insure your safety. That is why I’ve made a decision I didn’t want to make. I’m afraid I have to deny your request to work in one of the greenhouses.”

“We will not be moving back to Enterprise. I am aware of the risk involved in working with other colonists and prepared to take that risk in order to contribute to this project.”

“I know you’re willing to take the risk. But my decision is final. This doesn’t mean I’m letting you go. You could still contribute to the success of this project behind the scenes.”

T’Pol accepted Tyler’s offer, but Archer could see the disappointment on T’Pol’s face.

ooooooo

How nice of you to come see me this morning. A lot has happened since we spoke last. Yesterday, they left their shuttlepod for repair and resupplying in the hanger I work in and set up camp here by the river. I found them easily this morning and I’m observing them unseen.

The Vulcan takes her human companion out to the campfire and begins to talk. Listen to her tell the man she calls Jonathan the events that happened since his accident. Anger rises inside me with every word she speaks. She speaks so casually like she wasn’t at fault. She’s an unapologetic killer. I wonder if she tells Jonathan these things to convince herself she’s not guilty, or stays with him to repent for the sins she committed against him and humanity. I don’t know.

It’s obvious to me that she’s been around humans too long. Human emotions show up in her. She walks closely to her companion and looks at him in a way that makes me think she has grown attached to him in very un-Vulcan way. How would she feel if she lost him like I lost you? Her Jonathan doesn’t shy away from her either. She looks and he looks back. She touches and he touches back.

You already know I’ve asked you and myself many times if I am capable of killing her. The answer now is still yes. Killing her up close would be dangerous. I don’t know much about Vulcans, but I know they are far stronger than humans. Considering all those things, I came up with a plan several days ago. It has more of a chance of succeeding.

Killing her wouldn’t be enough. That woman failed to save you, our son, and our angel. I want her to die knowing the person who means the most to her dies with her. They packed up their camp and are leaving on foot. Now it’s time to put my plan into action.

ooooooo

How many times had he been in here? He didn’t know. Maybe T’Pol could tell him later. For now he could only stare up at the ceiling of the imaging chamber. Archer breathed slowly trying to calm his body. The walls of the imaging chamber made him feel claustrophobic. The chamber continued to hum a rhythmless tune as it scanned his body. He heard over the noise Phlox and T’Pol talking but couldn’t tell what words they said.

Jonathan never did like imaging chambers. Not after what happened to him as a kid. When his father was first diagnosed with Clark’s syndrome, Starfleet Medical’s waiting room became a familiar sight to him. He played with the old, worn toys while his mother paced, talked to the doctors he called white coats, or distracted herself with a book. Jonathan would tire of waiting sometimes and sneak off when he was supposed to be headed for the restroom.

That particular time he decided to track down his father. Earlier that day he watched the nurses guide his father down the hall. Jonathan walked down the hall peaking through windows into the gray rooms and ducking around corners or into an empty room when he saw a white coat or scrubs coming.

He almost passed by the room. He looked away from the window then paused and looked back. His father lay on a medical bed while the white coats buzzing around him scanned his body with various types of medical equipment. Henry’s usual clothing hid his deterioration well. The short-sleeved hospital gown hung on him like a potato sack showing his skin and shriveled muscles clinging to his bones. Jonathan could only see the left side of his father’s face from his window. Henry’s face seemed ancient. Jonathan wondered how long the hollows worn in his father’s cheek or the wrinkles fanning out from the corners of his eyes and creasing his forehead had been there. Henry turned toward him and looked directly into his eyes. The white coats didn’t follow Henry’s gaze. Henry looked at him, his eyes devoid of recognition. Then, he turned his head back to look up at the ceiling. One of the white coats pushed a button and the imaging chamber sucked his father’s body inside of its tube. The rhythmless clicks and hums began and a blue light glowed from the entrance of the imaging chamber. Jonathan watched until his father emerged from the tube.

His mother didn’t ask where he’d been, and he didn’t tell her. He crossed the waiting room and stared out the waiting room windows at the cars flying between the skyscrapers of downtown San Francisco. He felt like something had been ripped from inside him and an empty space left in its place. Until that moment, he held out hope. Jonathan’s jaw tightened and his eyes filled with moisture. His father was dying and he could do nothing about it.

‘Dad, I thought I understood back then what you were going through. I was glad when you couldn’t remember who you once were and how much you lost. Now I think I know some of what you experienced. I can’t lead or be there for my family, my crew. A part of me is gone, and what is left is waiting around until my memory goes away again. Maybe I’m lucky not to remember some things, but I want to remember my life. I want to remember what has happened to my crew. I want to remember the time I’ve shared with T’Pol. I want to live life for more than one day at a time. I want all the things I can never have again.’

“T’Pol, you should consider the possibility that there may not be a cure for his condition for years, if ever.”

T’Pol looked over Phlox’s shoulder at the sparse interior of the colony’s temporary hospital thinking. She looked at Phlox’s face and stoically told him, “I assure you Doctor I have considered that possibility among others.”

He didn’t look convinced. “There’s nothing more I can do for him at this time. As soon as the hospital is in working order, I will travel back to Denobula and consult with colleagues of mine.”

The humming of the imaging chamber stopped and the blue glow shut off. Archer let go of a held breath as the biobed rolled out of the imaging chamber. Phlox appeared on his right and T’Pol on his left as he came to a stop.

“So, how did it go?” He could tell from the look on Phlox’s face what the answer was, but he asked anyway to break the silence in the room.

Archer pushed himself up to sit. T’Pol’s arm instinctively came up to help him. T’Pol blinked and froze with her arm hovering in midair. Her arm fell back to her side. Archer furrowed his brow as he wondered what that was all about.

“I’m sorry. The localized radiation treatment was unsuccessful. The parasites appear unaffected.”

Archer smiled to reassure him. “It’s okay Doc. You couldn’t know until you tried.”

Phlox scanned him. “You have no abnormal readings. T’Pol, let me know if he has any out of the ordinary symptoms.”

“What kind of symptoms?” Archer asked.

“Hair falling out, skin glowing in the dark, growing extra appendages, or other symptoms.”

“You’re joking right?”

“Yes,” the corners of his smile almost touched his eyes, “Should any unusual symptoms occur please contact me immediately. I want to see you both again after your survey mission.”

ooooooo

“My brother admired both of you. I spoke on your behalf at the council because he would have wanted me too,” Paul Mayweather said. Paul sat behind a desk in the cramped Captain’s ready room he rarely used. On the other side of the desk sat Archer and T’Pol.

Archer believed that Paul did things for them because of his brother and perhaps at his mother’s insistence. Paul was being diplomatic with them and not showing emotions for them one way or another.

“I thank you for doing so,” T’Pol told him.

“I’m sorry I can’t help you this time. The Horizon’s crew quarters are filled to triple capacity. All the other ships I know of have the same situation.”

“That’s understandable. Thank you for everything you’ve done,” Archer said when he saw a flicker of disappointment cross T’Pol’s face.

“We’re putting two of the protein resequencers that Ambassador Soval supplied the convoy to good use in the mess hall. You’re welcome to eat here any time.”

They took him up on his offer and ate their mid-day meal among the Horizon’s crew. No one bothered them other than the occasional stare. After they ate, they headed back to their shuttlepod. T’Pol double-checked their supply list while Archer made preparations to lift off.

ooooooo

As I write this, I know some people will not understand my actions.

I can no longer stand by and watch this killer walk free. I do this not just for my wife and kids but for the others she hurt. She knowingly disabled her ship and prevented it from stopping the weapon that took my wife and our children from me along with billions of other lives. There is no one to give her justice but me.

I will give her a just and right punishment. Taking from her what she took from so many - their lives.

I will join my wife and our children soon. Then I will be able to meet my angel and kiss her on her head.

ooooooo

“Where are we going this time?”

“We are headed to an extinct volcano approximately 1027 kilometers away. Orbital scans of the volcano showed a high concentration of plant and animal life inside of the volcano’s crater.”

“Sounds interesting.” Archer hoped the place would have less humidity and heat than the colony. “Will we reach it today?”

T’Pol kept her eyes on the controls and said, “Yes.”

The shuttlepod suddenly changed heading and increased speed. All the control panel lights went dead.

“T’Pol, what just happened?”

“The shuttle has changed course and speed without my authorization,” T’Pol said as she unbuckled her seat belt and moved to another console in the shuttlepod. She removed a panel underneath it and looked inside at the computer chips and wires. “Someone has tampered with the navigation controls. They’ve tied a device into the controls.”

Archer quickly came over to see the metal box attached with wires to the controls. “Do you think it’s safe to remove it?”

“Unknown.” T’Pol retrieved her scanner from her backpack nearby and came back to scan the box “This device is portable hard drive designed to feed a program into the computer. It is currently not transmitting data to the computer but it is receiving data. All computer functions except propulsion and navigation are down. Life support is down. I recommend we wear oxygen rebreather masks.”

Archer nodded agreement and opened an overhead panel and retrieved two masks. Without hesitation he strapped the facemask over his nose and mouth. A single barrel-shaped tank protruded from the mouth area scrubbing the carbon dioxide he exhaled and providing him clean oxygen to inhale. Straps he slipped around his head elastically adjusted to his head. The masks had become standard issue shortly after Reed and Trip’s experience in shuttlepod one. He silently thanked Starfleet for stocking them in all the shuttlepods.

Archer’s muffled voice asked through the intercom in the mask, “Can we remove it?”

Their breathing against the intercom sounded like wind whipping past their ears. T’Pol punched a few buttons and read the readings on her scanner, “I would not recommend it. The device appears to have explosive components.”

T’Pol scanned different areas of the shuttlepod controls, “I am unable to access the controls of the computer. Whoever programmed this program designed it to lock out all means of overriding the programming manually.”

“What can we do?”

“Tampering with the device will lead to the destruction of the navigational controls. Rebooting the computer will not solve the problem-“

“We’re descending.” Archer looked out the shuttlepod’s viewscreen. A vibrant body of blue-green water loomed larger and larger. “T’Pol, get back to your seat now!”

They both scrambled to the seats behind the pilot and co-pilot seats and strapped themselves in. Beneath his feet the shuttlepod shook violently.

Archer reached out to T’Pol and grabbed her hand squeezing it tightly. He looked in her eyes seeing fear mirrored in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how much she meant to him and how much he cared for her. But there wasn’t time. The fear disappeared from T’Pol’s face. Archer felt warmth radiating from T’Pol’s hand up his arm and permeating throughout his mind. Her strength was his. His strength was hers. He looked out at the water unafraid.

The pod punched through the water slamming Archer’s head back into his headrest knocking his breath out. Seconds later, the nose of the shuttlepod skidded through the sand until it hit something and came to a stop. An audible crunch and the screeching of metal were followed by the sudden loss of all power in the shuttle. Even the emergency lights failed shrouding them in darkness. Crates of supplies and their backpacks were launched forward through the air. A small object hit Archer’s arm ripping his hand from T’Pol’s.

The creaks and groans of the shuttlepod were joined by glass shattering and water rushing inside the shuttle. Archer closed his eyes seconds before the water hit. Small pieces of safety glass propelled by water embedded in his hands and face. Water filled the shuttlepod as the shuttlepod bounced back from the force of the impact and settled into the sand.

“Jonathan,” more urgently T’Pol’s voice called for him, “Jonathan.”

Archer breathed a sigh of relief. They were still alive. “I’m here. Are you okay?”

“I am. Are you?”

“I think so. We need to get out of here. I can’t see you. Unbuckle your seatbelt. I’ll swim over towards you.”

He swam blindly through floating debris and sand. The shuttlepod creaked ominously like it would collapse at any moment. Archer felt around with his hand until he touched T’Pol’s shoulder. Her hand came up and captured his.

T’Pol floated up to swim beside him. “From the trajectory of the shuttlepod during impact and the positioning of the crates, I believe I can find our backpacks.”

“Okay, but make it quick. I think the shuttle could implode at any time.”

T’Pol kicked and sent them swimming down to the floor of the shuttlepod. They quickly felt around with one hand while holding hands with the other.

“I found one,” T’Pol said.

Archer found the other backpack but it was wedged under the pilot’s console and a crate. He pushed the crate away and held on tight to the handle of the pack. “I’ve got the other.”

A support brace from the wall of the pod collapsed behind them displacing enough water to push them forward a few feet.

“I think that’s our signal to go. I’ll swim out backwards. Swim after me and try to keep hold of my hand.”

They swam side by side quickly distancing themselves from the shuttlepod. The water pressure at that depth proved safe for humans and Vulcans. On their way up to the surface, Archer noticed the water seemed hard to swim through. He knew this was because of the high salt concentration of the water. He swam towards the light filtering through the sand stirred up by the crash.

Their heads bobbed up above the surface of the water. A shockwave several feet tall crashed into them. Archer looked at T’Pol knowing the shuttlepod just imploded.

ooooooo

Reed pulled back the white sheet covering the body. Lifeless blue eyes stared up at him. Bloodless white skin contrasted with the man’s dark brown hair and the ligature marks around his neck. There was something about the man that seemed off. Reed called it the crazy vibe. He could feel something was not quite right in this man’s head.

Reed looked up at Dr. Phlox who wore a medical apron sporting blood spatters from the man on the table. “Have you finished your autopsy?”

“Yes. Cause of death is that his heart stopped beating.” Reed looked up at Phlox questioningly, “You can see the marks here from the computer cable he used to hang himself. The cable put pressure on his carotid bodies. The carotid bodies are a peculiar feature of the human body. They sense increases in blood pressure and send signals to slow the heart rate down. In some cases strong pressure on the carotid bodies can cause the heart to completely stop as in Mr. Calvert’s case. He only suffered from lack of oxygen for a few minutes before his heart stopped.”

That was better than the man deserved, Reed thought. “That explains why his skin isn’t blue. Tell me about what happened after you arrived at Calvert’s quarters.”

“His roommate, Landon Kuykendall, told me when I arrived that he found him the next morning after his shift ended. He used the ship’s comm. to alert the communications officer who in turn summoned the hospital. I arrived with several nurses, but he’d been deceased for over six hours. Before leaving the quarters, I noticed an active file on the computer. It was a suicide note. I made sure not to touch the computer.”

“Good. Thank you for having the Constellation’s captain seal his quarters off until I arrived.”

“Is there still no word from them?”

Reed sighed and looked down, “No. Hoshi is still trying to raise them. I’ve detected no sign of them or their sensor sweeps. Captain Tucker consulted with Commander Tyler and located an area along their route where sensors are scrambled by mineral deposits. Commander Tyler showed us sensor modifications that only work for short range scans. A group of shuttles are searching for signs of wreckage or survivors. The search area is larger than the Sahara desert. It could take days or weeks to find them.”

“Did Archer and T’Pol’s shuttlepod have these sensor modifications?” Phlox asked.

“Tyler said it did.” Reed turned away from Calvert’s body. “I’ll keep you informed of the progress of the search. I should return to Enterprise.”

“Let me know if there is anyway I can help,” Phlox added as he pulled the sheet back over Calvert’s face and pushed him into a stasis drawer.

“Oh, Mr. Reed. Only one personal item was recovered from Mr. Calvert’s body. It may be of interest to you.” Phlox walked over to a nearby cart and picked up a gold chain and locket from a steel dish passing it between his and Reed’s gloved hands.

Reed opened the locket and looked over the two faded pictures inside. His eyes caught a bulge behind the picture of the boy. Removing the picture, he uncovered a micro data disk. He thought to himself, ‘What would be so important that he would keep it with him at all times?’

ooooooo

Archer leaned back and effortlessly floated in the water. T’Pol followed suit. She’d never floated in water before. The salt content of the water held her buoyant. The backpack in her hand wouldn’t float.

“Maybe we should try swimming with these on our backs,” Archer suggested. He swam in place pulling the shoulder straps on and buckling the waist strap. T’Pol did the same.

Archer pushed the rebreathing mask back on the top of his head. Archer looked around at their surroundings. They were body of salt water. Blue green algae thrived on the water’s surface giving it its color. Archer doubted anything else could live in the high concentration of salt water. Surrounding the lake was a dry desert plain covered in a layer of white salt crystals. Several mountain ranges surrounded them. The closest one looked like it could be several days journey away. He could be wrong. Distances in the desert could be deceiving. White sand dunes rose from the salt plain next to those mountains. He’d rather go in another direct to avoid crossing them.

“Looks like we’ve landed in a salt lake,” Archer said.

“Yes.” T’Pol looked up at the position of the sun in the sky. “I recommend we begin swimming to the nearest shore. We have approximately three hours of day light.”

Within an hour Archer’s arm muscles were burning. Looking at his muscle tone, he could tell he wasn’t out of shape. The water his arms sliced through felt like thick soup. Desert wind blew through his hair. He didn’t look forward to walking through a desert in the daytime. The temperature felt like baking inside of an oven.

After hours of fighting against the water to swim, Archer’s boots sank down into the sand at the bottom of the lake. He walked through the last few feet of water weakly putting one aching leg in front of another. T’Pol already crouched on the shore in dry salt coated sand mentally taking inventory of the useable contents of her backpack as she sorted through it. Archer joined her slipping his backpack off his shoulders.

T’Pol looked over the cuts on his face and hands. Worry plain in her eyes. She retrieved the medical kit from her backpack and found a pair of tweezers.

“Hold still.”

A breath hissed out of his lips as she plucked a shard of glass lodged above his eyebrow. The sting of salt water penetrated the wound. Blood soaked pieces of glass dropped down to join the large grains of salt on the ground. T’Pol waved a device over his head and hand cleaning and sealing the wounds. She placed the device back in the med kit and started to close it.

“Wait,” Archer said placing a hand on T’Pol’s chin and turning her face towards him. Green soaked shards of glass soon joined the red ones among the white salt covering the ground.

The situation wasn’t good. Virtually everything in Archer’s backpack was destroyed when it smashed between the shuttle and crate. In T’Pol’s backpack they found enough water for one person to drink over one or two days walking in the desert heat. Their food rations were also low, but that didn’t matter. Water was used during digestion of food. They could go for weeks without food, and only days without water. Several changes of Archer’s clothing were packed in the bottom of the bag. Archer set aside a shirt to make a makeshift hat.

T’Pol took a handful of plastic specimen bags out of the front pocket of her backpack. Archer saw them and gently stilled her hand looking at them. He let go of her hand. “I think we should take those.”

“Why?”

“I learned an old trick of how to gather water from plant respiration as an Eagle Scout. I found it more reliable and less labor intensive than solar stills.”

“A scientifically sound ‘trick’. I will remind you of these bags if we encounter any vegetation.” T’Pol placed the bags back in the pocket.

T’Pol pulled her scanner from the front pocket and scanned around them. “Something is blocking my signals.”

“What is it?”

“I have heard of this phenomenon before. Several desert areas on this planet are null to sensor readings. A mineral in the sand itself blocks sensor scans.”

“So you know where we might be?”

“Yes. A mining survey team encountered a large expanse of desert that blocked sensor readings. The lakes and mountains fit with the topography of the area. It would also correspond with the direction our shuttle traveled.” Archer saw T’Pol’s eyebrows knit together below wet strands of hair plastered on her forehead.

“I get the feeling that this isn’t good news.”

“The mining survey team recorded that the phenomenon covered an area approximately 5,000 kilometers from north to south and 14,000 kilometers from east to west. A scientific team was dispatched to study the phenomenon. They were able to modify their sensors to work limited within a range of 200 kilometers. Ships in orbit are still unable to scan do to the interference.”

“It would take a rescue team quite a while to scan an area like that from a shuttlepod. Where exactly do you think we are in that area?”

“There is only one location on the maps I’ve seen that fits this description.” T’Pol pictured the map in her mind. They would need to travel east over a set of mountains. “The colony is east…She looked around and found the closest mountain range. She pointed towards it. “…beyond those sand dunes and mountain range.”

“How many days do you think it will take to get back to the colony?”

“I am uncertain. I believe it will take more than twelve days. Approximately eight of those days our bioreadings will be affected by the mineral deposits of this region.”

Archer had a flashback to his Starfleet survival training in the Australian outback. That was two weeks this was only twelve days. He could do this. Then he realized the difference between that experience and this. Starfleet provided them with sweat recyclers and other survival gear. He had no doubt T’Pol could survive in this. She told him once she’d survived ten days alone in the desert as a part of a childhood ritual. If he died, he hoped T’Pol survived. He wasn’t giving up yet. He would fight to stay alive and show the person who sabotaged their shuttlepod that they hadn’t succeeded.

After splitting the meager supplies between their two backpacks, they prepared for walking through the desert. Both tied the bottoms of their pants tight to prevent insects from crawling up their legs. Archer tore a t-shirt apart and wrapped the fabric around his head fashioning a turban. The end piece of the fabric dipped down to cover his mouth and nose and tucked in the other side of the turban.

T’Pol looked at his hat curiously raising an eyebrow. She walked over to him and adjusted the fabric then nodded approvingly. Archer looked into her eyes.

“You aren’t wearing any protection from the sun,” he said breaking the tension hanging in the air between their locked eyes. Each word he spoke puffed air through the cloth covering his mouth making it rise and fall.

T’Pol explained, “My people evolved on a desert planet. Our bodies adapted to the conditions. The sunlight will not burn my skin as fast as it will yours. My inner eyelids will protect my eyes from the sunlight. I will not need water for several days.”

Over the years, Archer learned more about what being Vulcan meant. Even though he’d learned so much, T’Pol still managed to reveal things about her people and herself that he didn’t know.

“I wouldn’t mind having some of those adaptations right now.” He half-smiled beneath the cloth. Who would have thought that he would ever want to have Vulcan traits?

“Are you ready to leave?” T’Pol asked.

“Yes.”

“We should begin our journey.”

ooooooo

Before the end of the day, posters filled the colony displaying Ryan Calvert’s face. The bold words at the top saying “Have you talked to this man?” and below the picture, “Your information could save two lives. Please contact a community leader, member of Starfleet, or comm. frequency 4793 beta. Full anonymity and immunity from prosecution will be granted to anyone who comes forward.”

Meanwhile, in the Situation Room aboard Enterprise, Reed presented his findings to Captain Tucker and the senior staff, “Ryan Calvert. Age 37. He met and married Tressa Petrovich in college. They had one son, Jacob. He worked on various mining vessels for a few years after graduation. Then, he became a computer repair specialist stationed at Jupiter Station for 6 years until the Xindi attack. He worked in the colony’s ship repair facilities. He was a civilian worker cleared to work on civilian as well as Starfleet computers.”

Reed held up the micro data disc. “I found this in a locket Calvert wore around his neck. It contains the last message Tressa sent to him before Earth was destroyed. She’d moved back to Earth to take care of her ailing father several years prior to that and he visited her and their child on his shore leaves. She called to tell him that she was pregnant with another child, a girl. It also contains another file containing a sophisticated encrypted computer program and notes on the computer configuration of shuttlepods composed by Calvert. Since we haven’t heard from Archer and T’Pol, I think we can safely assume this program was implemented on their shuttle and at least partially successful. I found no other items of use in his quarters or computer. That’s all we know so far.”

Trip spoke up, “I want a team of people to get right on decrypting that program. Sanchez, I want you to talk to the other pilots onboard. Choose as many as we can spare to fly over the search area. Report back to me with your list. You'll be coordinating with the other shuttles already searching. I want all the available Starfleet shuttles out there searching. Everyone else, help out where you can. Dismissed.”

Reed crossed over to Trip, “Sir, I request permission to head back to the surface. I want to interview people who knew Calvert.”

“Permission granted.” Trip audibly sighed. They had several places to look for clues. All he could do was wait.

T'Pol goes to great lengths to keep Archer alive.

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