NOTE: Based on a review, and on my own dissatisfaction with elements of
this chapter, I've changed it just a little. Hope it's a bit better.
Thanks Daria! Emrys
Hey Everybody.. I'm back! Here's the next part, and.just a warning for you all.lots of Trip "torture" here.sorry.but the poison has to progress after all, doesn't it? I also haven't forgotten about the Captain up there in the Ferengi ship.just in case you were wondering.but we'll see what he's doing in the next chapter.
I made the mistake of writing this on a weeknight when I'm absolutely exhausted.not the ideal situation, so I hope this all makes sense. Somehow I think that when I reread this tomorrow, I'm not going to be very happy with it.but, well, I'm sure you all will let me know.
I'll try to get the next part up soon!
Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews.they help me out so much!
Emrys
P.S. Daria!!! I'm dying for the next part of your fic!!!
Following Orders Part XIV
Disclaimer: See previous installments.
The little alien was small, but much faster than T'Pol could anticipate, and before she could even register the movement, Krem was pressing what looked to be a rudimentary hypospray against the Commander's throat. When she saw her crewmate almost immediately return to consciousness after the contents of the hypospray had been dispensed, T'Pol felt the first inklings of anger and frustration threaten to break through her fragile control.
"What are you doing?" T'Pol asked Krem carefully.
Krem ignored her question and somehow managed to pull the Commander to a sitting position despite the discrepancy in their sizes. When T'Pol realized that she was getting no response, she put a gentle, but strong hand on the engineer's shoulder and successfully kept the little alien from making any more progress. She was about to ask her question again, but the Commander beat her to it.
"Ahhh, damn....what is going on?" Trip managed to gasp out through clenched teeth.
T'Pol looked the ill man over and noted his graying pallor and hitched breathing. She turned and stared pointedly at Krem, and the alien did not require additional words to understand that he would get no further in his task of moving either officer until the questions were answered.
Krem sighed deeply and impatiently before offering a hurried explanation.
"The Renkans are a highly superstitious species. It took six months before I could convince them that I was of no harm to them, and then another three before they understood that I was actually trying to help them with the technology I brought with me."
T'Pol allowed herself to express her disapproval by arching one eyebrow, but said nothing. She nodded at Krem to indicate that she wished him to continue.
"Physically, I'm small which keeps me from looking too dangerous. Additionally, my cousins and other acquaintances did much to teach me how to act subordinately, and these qualities helped me win over the Renkans. However, you and your companions have alarmed them with your obviously strong physical attributes, and I might add, your loud and angry voices.
"This one in particular," Krem continued and pointed to Trip "frightens them, since they rarely fall ill and believe his sickness is a portent of bad luck to come."
"This....just figures," Trip growled sarcastically between strained breaths. "We just can't...catch a break...can we?"
"Don't exert yourself, Commander," T'Pol replied. "What are the Renkans planning to do?" she then asked Krem.
"Well that's why you need to get out of the village," Krem explained with exasperation clear in his tone. "I've been arguing with them ever since you've come here, and I've managed to convince them that you, Sub- Commander, being healthy and all are of no threat to them. However, I haven't been able to sway them from their belief that Commander Tucker is simply a sick man who is perfectly harmless to them. They keep insisting that he is a bad omen that needs to be destroyed and so if you want to keep that from happening, you need to leave. Now! They'll be here any moment. Listen to me! I would not have used the stimulant to wake the Commander if this were not urgent. It's dangerous to him, and I have so little of it left. But you must leave now!"
"I see the..logic behind..all this now," Trip said while looking intently at T'Pol.
T'Pol had no doubt that the Commander was attempting to make a joke, but she chose to ignore it.
"Can you walk at all, Commander?" she asked calmly.
"Prob'ly not, darlin'. But...let's give it..aaahh...the old..college try."
***
The stimulant helped, but not much. Their progress was slow as Trip stumbled along barely conscious and T'Pol half-dragged, half-carried him through the forest. After a short discussion, the two had decided to head back towards the area where they had left the primitive transmitter that Trip had rigged. They had both agreed that, with the Captain still onboard the alien ship, returning to the transmitter made sense and was where the Captain would most likely search for them if he somehow managed to return to the surface. Additionally, the transmitter was placed in an area relatively far away from the Renkan village, and T'Pol believed the clearing to possess some minimal safety for them.
But first they had to trek through a large expanse of the forest, and T'Pol doubted that the Commander could go much further in his attempt to avoid the logical end that was his demise. She could not remember ever seeing a living creature look so desperately ill, and she could not understand how he held onto any strands of consciousness. His fever had spiked again, and he lapsed into moments of delirium which would suddenly clear and were replaced by severe pain that was all too easily seen behind his eyes despite the attempts he made to hide the agony behind seemingly light-hearted joking. At the beginning of their slow flight through these woods, T'Pol found the Commander's jokes tedious and out of place. She could not comprehend why the engineer insisted on making light of their serious situation. But after a seemingly interminable amount of labored stumbling, she had come to understand that the Commander was only trying to ease his fears, and she had decided to let him have his fun even though each joke gave her barely-controlled emotions unwanted strength.
In fact, after a little more time, she was actually beginning to respect the cleverness of each joke regardless of the illogical reason for their use. Even considering the effects of the stimulant that Krem had injected into his system, the Commander was holding out better than anyone could have expected, and they had actually made some progress towards their destination. But she estimated another three miles or so before they would reach the clearing that held the transmitter, and her logical mind kept insisting that the man would not be able to reach their objective.
She was considering the argument that had been posed to her by several members of Enterprise that logic could lead to a dangerous fatalism, when the Commander's breathing became so labored that he stopped abruptly and looked at her with clear panic.
"I can't...my..breath," he tried to choke out over the thick wheezing that threatened to overtake him.
T'Pol quickly laid him down off the pathway they were on, and studied him carefully.
"Commander, try to calm down. Steady your breathing," she instructed as she checked his pulse. His heart was racing, but it was not arresting as she had feared.
"Can't..breathe," Trip whispered in response, and T'Pol saw that his panic was threatening to overwhelm him.
"Commander Tucker!" she said in a sharp tone that snatched his attention well enough to distract him momentarily from his distress. "Calm yourself," she added as she felt along his ribcage. "The muscles in your upper torso have seized violently, and you are unable to expand your chest cavity sufficiently to take in a reasonable amount of air. I will attempt to relax the muscles by massaging them, but you must also help yourself by remaining calm."
Unable to respond and already seeing black sparks flash across his vision, Trip managed to nod even though he was doubtful that remaining calm would have any significant positive effect. He had a miserable moment when he suddenly realized for the first time that he actually could die on this horrible planet, and he would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but he didn't have the breath to do so. Then T'Pol started massaging the overstrained and taut muscles that lay over his ribcage, and all he could be conscious of was the pain in his chest that he could not even express by screaming.
Hey Everybody.. I'm back! Here's the next part, and.just a warning for you all.lots of Trip "torture" here.sorry.but the poison has to progress after all, doesn't it? I also haven't forgotten about the Captain up there in the Ferengi ship.just in case you were wondering.but we'll see what he's doing in the next chapter.
I made the mistake of writing this on a weeknight when I'm absolutely exhausted.not the ideal situation, so I hope this all makes sense. Somehow I think that when I reread this tomorrow, I'm not going to be very happy with it.but, well, I'm sure you all will let me know.
I'll try to get the next part up soon!
Thanks for all of your wonderful reviews.they help me out so much!
Emrys
P.S. Daria!!! I'm dying for the next part of your fic!!!
Following Orders Part XIV
Disclaimer: See previous installments.
The little alien was small, but much faster than T'Pol could anticipate, and before she could even register the movement, Krem was pressing what looked to be a rudimentary hypospray against the Commander's throat. When she saw her crewmate almost immediately return to consciousness after the contents of the hypospray had been dispensed, T'Pol felt the first inklings of anger and frustration threaten to break through her fragile control.
"What are you doing?" T'Pol asked Krem carefully.
Krem ignored her question and somehow managed to pull the Commander to a sitting position despite the discrepancy in their sizes. When T'Pol realized that she was getting no response, she put a gentle, but strong hand on the engineer's shoulder and successfully kept the little alien from making any more progress. She was about to ask her question again, but the Commander beat her to it.
"Ahhh, damn....what is going on?" Trip managed to gasp out through clenched teeth.
T'Pol looked the ill man over and noted his graying pallor and hitched breathing. She turned and stared pointedly at Krem, and the alien did not require additional words to understand that he would get no further in his task of moving either officer until the questions were answered.
Krem sighed deeply and impatiently before offering a hurried explanation.
"The Renkans are a highly superstitious species. It took six months before I could convince them that I was of no harm to them, and then another three before they understood that I was actually trying to help them with the technology I brought with me."
T'Pol allowed herself to express her disapproval by arching one eyebrow, but said nothing. She nodded at Krem to indicate that she wished him to continue.
"Physically, I'm small which keeps me from looking too dangerous. Additionally, my cousins and other acquaintances did much to teach me how to act subordinately, and these qualities helped me win over the Renkans. However, you and your companions have alarmed them with your obviously strong physical attributes, and I might add, your loud and angry voices.
"This one in particular," Krem continued and pointed to Trip "frightens them, since they rarely fall ill and believe his sickness is a portent of bad luck to come."
"This....just figures," Trip growled sarcastically between strained breaths. "We just can't...catch a break...can we?"
"Don't exert yourself, Commander," T'Pol replied. "What are the Renkans planning to do?" she then asked Krem.
"Well that's why you need to get out of the village," Krem explained with exasperation clear in his tone. "I've been arguing with them ever since you've come here, and I've managed to convince them that you, Sub- Commander, being healthy and all are of no threat to them. However, I haven't been able to sway them from their belief that Commander Tucker is simply a sick man who is perfectly harmless to them. They keep insisting that he is a bad omen that needs to be destroyed and so if you want to keep that from happening, you need to leave. Now! They'll be here any moment. Listen to me! I would not have used the stimulant to wake the Commander if this were not urgent. It's dangerous to him, and I have so little of it left. But you must leave now!"
"I see the..logic behind..all this now," Trip said while looking intently at T'Pol.
T'Pol had no doubt that the Commander was attempting to make a joke, but she chose to ignore it.
"Can you walk at all, Commander?" she asked calmly.
"Prob'ly not, darlin'. But...let's give it..aaahh...the old..college try."
***
The stimulant helped, but not much. Their progress was slow as Trip stumbled along barely conscious and T'Pol half-dragged, half-carried him through the forest. After a short discussion, the two had decided to head back towards the area where they had left the primitive transmitter that Trip had rigged. They had both agreed that, with the Captain still onboard the alien ship, returning to the transmitter made sense and was where the Captain would most likely search for them if he somehow managed to return to the surface. Additionally, the transmitter was placed in an area relatively far away from the Renkan village, and T'Pol believed the clearing to possess some minimal safety for them.
But first they had to trek through a large expanse of the forest, and T'Pol doubted that the Commander could go much further in his attempt to avoid the logical end that was his demise. She could not remember ever seeing a living creature look so desperately ill, and she could not understand how he held onto any strands of consciousness. His fever had spiked again, and he lapsed into moments of delirium which would suddenly clear and were replaced by severe pain that was all too easily seen behind his eyes despite the attempts he made to hide the agony behind seemingly light-hearted joking. At the beginning of their slow flight through these woods, T'Pol found the Commander's jokes tedious and out of place. She could not comprehend why the engineer insisted on making light of their serious situation. But after a seemingly interminable amount of labored stumbling, she had come to understand that the Commander was only trying to ease his fears, and she had decided to let him have his fun even though each joke gave her barely-controlled emotions unwanted strength.
In fact, after a little more time, she was actually beginning to respect the cleverness of each joke regardless of the illogical reason for their use. Even considering the effects of the stimulant that Krem had injected into his system, the Commander was holding out better than anyone could have expected, and they had actually made some progress towards their destination. But she estimated another three miles or so before they would reach the clearing that held the transmitter, and her logical mind kept insisting that the man would not be able to reach their objective.
She was considering the argument that had been posed to her by several members of Enterprise that logic could lead to a dangerous fatalism, when the Commander's breathing became so labored that he stopped abruptly and looked at her with clear panic.
"I can't...my..breath," he tried to choke out over the thick wheezing that threatened to overtake him.
T'Pol quickly laid him down off the pathway they were on, and studied him carefully.
"Commander, try to calm down. Steady your breathing," she instructed as she checked his pulse. His heart was racing, but it was not arresting as she had feared.
"Can't..breathe," Trip whispered in response, and T'Pol saw that his panic was threatening to overwhelm him.
"Commander Tucker!" she said in a sharp tone that snatched his attention well enough to distract him momentarily from his distress. "Calm yourself," she added as she felt along his ribcage. "The muscles in your upper torso have seized violently, and you are unable to expand your chest cavity sufficiently to take in a reasonable amount of air. I will attempt to relax the muscles by massaging them, but you must also help yourself by remaining calm."
Unable to respond and already seeing black sparks flash across his vision, Trip managed to nod even though he was doubtful that remaining calm would have any significant positive effect. He had a miserable moment when he suddenly realized for the first time that he actually could die on this horrible planet, and he would have laughed at the ridiculousness of it all, but he didn't have the breath to do so. Then T'Pol started massaging the overstrained and taut muscles that lay over his ribcage, and all he could be conscious of was the pain in his chest that he could not even express by screaming.