Disclaimer: Characters within do not belong to me, but to Paramount Studios, through the creative genius of Gene Roddenberry.
Author's Notes: It's been a very, very, very long time since I updated this. I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm ready to finish the story, so hopefully updates on it will be more regular from now on. Thanks for all the reviews and support!!!
****
Firecracker
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"I'm Captain Archer of the Starfleet ship, Enterprise." Jonathan fought with every diplomatic muscle in his body to keep the revulsion off his face as he spoke to the far-too-magnified Ferengi on the viewscreen. "We picked up your distress call."
"Daemon Deg," the alien replied, baring a mouth full of broken, yellowed teeth.
There was a pause. "Um...what is your situation?" the Enterprise's captain asked.
"One of our engines...overheated. Several of my crew were injured." The Daemon leaned forward. "We lack the medical supplies to take care of them, Captain. Perhaps you have some to spare."
"Of course." He looked back at his crew; they were all staring at the screen with matching looks of vague disgust, save for T'Pol. "We also have a highly trained medical staff if any of the injuries are severe."
"Oh, they are," Deg replied all too quickly.
Jonathan nodded slowly. "Well then. If you'll dock with us, we'll get to work right away. Also, my engineers can help you with repairs, if you need a hand there." He glanced back at Trip, who grimaced, but nodded. "We'll assemble a boarding party then."
"It is more than appreciated." The screen went blank in the middle of the Ferengi's crooked smile.
"I don't like it." Hoshi shook her head. "What kind of ship, even a cargo ship, doesn't carry medical supplies?"
"What do your sensors tell you?" Jonathan asked Malcolm
The British man lifted his shoulders. "There is damage to their engine, sir. Hard to tell how severe though; their systems are quite different than ours."
"Then we'll just have to proceed with caution. Trip, take one of your engineers over to assess the damage. I'll have Dr. Phlox assemble a medical team."
"Ferengi anatomy is unique," T'Pol said. "However, I have been studying it since we received the species profile from the High Council, and I feel confident in my ability to help Dr. Phlox's team."
Jonathan nodded. "All right. You'll go over, too, T'Pol."
Trip shook his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea. If it's all the same to ya, I'd rather T'Pol stay here where it's safe."
The Vulcan woman arched an eyebrow. "I do not need to be grounded as though I were infirm."
"Not sayin' that. I just don't want ya in any danger."
"Until Dr. Phlox tells me otherwise, I will continue to perform my everyday duties to the best of my ability," T'Pol replied coolly.
Trip folded his arms. "Capt'n?"
"Commander Tucker." Jonathan cleared his throat. This was probably going to set any hope of a reconciliation between him and his friend behind by several steps. "If Subcommander T'Pol thinks she's up for it, I see no reason to stop her yet." He put a hand on the back of Travis' chair. "Ensign...prepare the ship for docking procedures."
****
"Ya want me to do what?" Isabella stared at the strange doctor she had come to respect in her weeks aboard Enterprise. At that moment though, all she could think was that he was as crazy as her first impression of him had told her he would be. "Ya want me to go with the medical team to the alien ship?"
Dr. Phlox gave his youngest nurse a puzzled look. "Is this not why you joined your Starfleet? To encounter and explore?"
She let out a breath. "Yeah. Sure it is. I just...didn't know I'd be doin' it so soon."
"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today." He handed her a metal carrying case. "Everything you need should be in here. Our alien...friends are humanoid for the most part. You'll do just fine."
"Yer not comin'?"
The doctor shook his head. "The Ferengi are not a species I wish to have anything to do with." He ushered her towards the door of Sickbay. "Go now or they'll be boarding without you."
"And that would be bad...why?"
"Think positively." The doors slid closed just in time for Isabella to catch a glimpse of the doctor's thumbs up. She exhaled a harsh breath and stamped her foot. The childish gesture was so satisfying that she did it again.
Unfortunately at that moment, T'Pol appeared from around the corner carrying a large plastic box. "I assume from the medical kit that Dr. Phlox is sending you to the Ferengi vessel."
Isabella lifted her chin. "Never underestimate Vulcan intelligence, I guess."
She stopped just in front of Trip's sister. The two women watched each other for a long moment. "As a Starfleet officer, I expect that your personal feelings will in no way effect this mission."
"As a Vulcan Subcommander, I 'spect ya have no personal feelin's at all," Isabella shot back.
T'Pol unlatched the box and pulled out a phase pistol. "Lieutenant Reed wants everyone to be prepared for the worst."
The younger girl took the weapon without hesitation. "Charlie wouldn't let anythin' happen to me."
Eyebrow raised, T'Pol continued down the corridor. Isabella followed, but only when there was a good gap between them. A few minutes later, they both found themselves in the antechamber to the docking bay along with Trip, two engineers, two security officers and another nurse. Hoshi was also there handing out universal translators.
"If you have any problems, I'll do my best to walk you through them," she told Isabella as she handed her the device.
"Yer not comin' along?"
Hoshi shook her head, not entirely regretfully. "But I'll be listening, don't worry."
"It's gonna be in and out," Trip declared. "Trust me when I say these guys are uglier than sin and we really don't wanna be hangin' out with 'em longer than necessary."
The Captain's voice reached them through the comm system. "Be cautious, all of you. Don't turn your backs on them. Call for help if you need it." He paused. "Good luck."
"That's not very reassuring," the other nurse whispered to Isabella. She didn't have time to reply; the doors were already opening into the airlock that would take them over to the damaged ship. Isabella Tucker took her first steps onto an alien vessel with trepidation. Despite the current strain between them, having her brother close by kept most of her fears at bay.
Unfortunately it did nothing for her revulsion upon seeing her first Ferengi a moment later. The short alien with huge ears approached their party rapidly, wringing his hands in a way that reminded Isabella of a ancient cartoon carpetbagger.
"Welcome Human friends." He grinned at them. "We are so very humbled by your..."
T'Pol cut him off. "Where are your injured crew members?"
"And your engine room?" Trip added.
Two more Ferengi appeared from the shadows. Isabella had to wonder if she was the only one drawing cockroach analogies in her head. "We have moved the wounded away from engineering," the leader informed them. "If you..." He motioned to Trip and his engineers. "...will follow Mag. And you..." His leer suddenly turned towards Isabella, T'Pol and the other nurse. "...follow me."
"I'd rather our team stay togeth..." As the Ferengi moved further away, Trip's protest trailed off. With a sigh, he turned to the security officers. "One of yall with each group." Both men nodded, each placing a hand on the phase pistol at their sides. Trip looked at T'Pol. "Be careful." She inclined her head slightly. He then glanced at his sister. "Izzy, same goes."
Managing a small smile, his sister followed T'Pol and the Ferengi leader, backed up by the nurse and security officer. Trip watched until they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight into the depths of the Ferengi ship.
****
"Do you wish to tell them or shall I?"
With one gloved hand resting on one of the two fallen Ferengi, Isabella looked up at the older woman. "Ya wouldn't mind?" But T'Pol was already heading towards the Ferengi leader who hovered near the door to their makeshift Sickbay. "Of course ya don't mind," she continued under her breath.
Her attention turned back to her patient. Her recently deceased patient. Even with their instruments and T'Pol's basic knowledge of the alien's anatomy, the strange little man had died only moments earlier, bleeding out through a massive chest wound.
As she slowly rose to her feet from her crouching position, Isabella pulled off her bloody gloves and shook out her cramped legs. Nearby, the nurse whose name she couldn't quite remember was working on a less injured Ferengi. The man was already sitting up and talking.
It was surprising how quickly she had acclimated to the strange Ferengi features. They no longer seemed quite as freakish. Still weird, but more of a curiosity than something to be afraid of.
The other nurse moved away from her patient and joined Isabella. "Just the one casualty?"
"Yeah." Trip's sister pointed at T'Pol. "She's lettin' them know. I guess we're just about done here."
"Good thing." The nurse shivered slightly. "I don't like these people. If you can even call them that."
Isabella patted her arm. "Why don't you go tell the lieutenant that we're done. We can join up with the engineers and get back to the ship."
The woman who was only a few years older than she nodded. "I'll be back." Isabella watched her leave the cramped room that was serving as a temporary Sickbay.
T'Pol walked back over to her a minute later. "Daemon Deg wishes to thank you for your attempts to save his crew member."
"Great," Isabella replied. "I didn't do anythin', but whatever." Her gaze fell on the other injured Ferengi. One of them had begun to convulse slightly. She was instantly on guard. "That one's in trouble!"
She and T'Pol ran for him, Isabella pausing only to grab her medical kit. She was pulling out a hypodermic syringe when she heard the doors slam shut. The room was suddenly plunged into darkness. "What the hell?" A red emergency light flooded over them, allowing minimal sight. Isabella looked at T'Pol. "What's going on?"
"I wish I knew." The Vulcan looked down at their Ferengi patient. "Perhaps we should ask him."
Isabella followed her line of sight; the alien who had been seizing a moment before was still shaking, but this time with laughter. He reached up and plucked their phase pistols from their hip holders, turning the weapons onto them. "It seems as though you'll be staying with us for awhile, lovely ladies."
****
One thing Trip had learned early on during his time with the Enterprise was that when you were staring down the barrel of any kind of weapon, especially one you didn't recognize, it was best to just put your hands up and do what you were told until you figured out a better course of action.
So, when the Ferengi officers who had been hovering over him and his crew as they worked suddenly pressed the equivalent of phase pistols against their necks, Trip immediately froze. "Hey," he said trying to turn his head without moving too much. "Just what the hell do ya think yer doin'?"
"Silence, Human! You will drop what you are doing and stand. With your hands in the air."
He muttered the most foul curse he could come up with under his breath. The Ferengi behind him dug the weapon into the back of his neck. "Okay!" He slowly dropped the tool in his hand and indicated for his men to do the same. "No need to get all crazy here. If there's somethin' ya want from us..."
"What we want, we are in the process of taking. On your feet!"
Trip stood just as slowly; with the new height difference between his crew and their captors, the weapons were now pointed up against the underside of their chins. Strategically...not much better than before. "I know somethin's wrong with yer ship. We're helpin' ya...what else could ya possibly want?"
Daemon Deg appeared, a leering smile on his twisted lips. "Escort the Commander and his crew back to the airlock. We have what we want now."
"Just so ya know...I'm no diplomat." Trip made a grab for the weapon at his throat. He almost had it when another Ferengi fired at him. The blast hit his right arm, burning and stunning at the same time. Trip clutched at the wound, doubling over from the pain. His guard took the opportunity to pistol-whip him across the face. Blood spurted over the front of his uniform and he felt Ferengi grab each of his arms. When he looked up, he saw his crew faring no better against the aliens; their security guard was unconscious.
He spoke around the blood in his mouth. "Whatever it is that ya want...take it. Just let me get...my people back to our ship. Intact."
"Thank you for your very generous offer, Commander." Daemon Deg signaled to his men and they began dragging the Engineering crew. "I believe that we will be taking you up on it." In the corridor, they joined up with another group of Ferengi escorting the second security and the other nurse.
"Wait...where's..." Trip's question was cut off by a kick to his knees.
They reached the airlock door and when pressure had been restored, the Enterprise crew were haphazardly thrust into it. Daemon Deg smiled at them. "It has been a pleasure to do business with your new Starfleet. I hope for many more such profitable exchanges between us."
Trip rubbed his forearm across his lower face. "We're missin' two of our crew, our Chief Science Officer and..."
The airlock door slid into place with a hiss and a metallic thud, leaving the bloody and bewildered crew in the small space between the Enterprise and the vacuum of space. The entire world seemed to shake as the Ferengi vessel broke away from the ship and disappeared in a bright burst of warp light.
He looked around the group, praying that he'd been mistaken and just hadn't seen his sister or his lover. But it wasn't his beaten mind playing tricks on him. They weren't there. They'd been taken into the depths of space by the Ferengi raiders.
What seemed like hours, but was in reality only a few minutes, the opposite end of the airlock opened. A security team along with Reed, Hoshi and the Captain stood on the other side, worry stamped across each of their faces.
"What happened?" Jonathan asked, bordering on the far side of panic. "Their ship just took off without warning."
"Communications got jammed," Hoshi continued, almost breathless from the run from the bridge.
"We're bloody lucky it didn't rip away this entire airlock and the lot of you with it," Malcolm added.
Hoshi had already started counting heads. "Where's Subcommander T'Pol...and Nurse Tucker?" She turned a horrified look towards Trip. "Oh my god...they're not..."
"They've got 'em." Trip looked straight at his oldest friend and commanding officer. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't protect my crew." Before the Captain could reply, Trip's shoulders slumped over and had it not been for the quick actions of the security man closest to him, he would have collapsed.
Jonathan reached for a comm panel. "Archer to Phlox, get a medical team down here on the double."
"Yes, Captain."
He turned his head to look out the airlock's tiny window. Space stretched out around them in every direction. And the two women he cared most about in the world could be anywhere in it...having anything conceivable done to them.
"Let's get a message to Starfleet and have them pass it on to the Vulcans." He spoke with practiced calm, although he would have liked to scream the words and accentuate them with punches to the walls. "We've got a renegade ship of Ferengi who have kidnapped two of Starfleet's personnel. We're going to go after them personally, but any allies we have...now would be the time to call in some favors. Hoshi?"
"I'll send it priority one," she replied softly.
"Senior staff meeting on the bridge in one hour. I'll want more than just ideas on how to track that ship; I'll be expecting solutions and projections." Jonathan bypassed the security officers and ducked underneath Trip's arm until he was single-handedly supporting his shell-shocked friend. "Understood?" There was a murmur of affirmative replies. "No one rests until they're back on board. And safe."
****
To Be Continued
Author's Notes: It's been a very, very, very long time since I updated this. I don't want to jinx myself, but I'm ready to finish the story, so hopefully updates on it will be more regular from now on. Thanks for all the reviews and support!!!
****
Firecracker
by Kristen Elizabeth
****
"I'm Captain Archer of the Starfleet ship, Enterprise." Jonathan fought with every diplomatic muscle in his body to keep the revulsion off his face as he spoke to the far-too-magnified Ferengi on the viewscreen. "We picked up your distress call."
"Daemon Deg," the alien replied, baring a mouth full of broken, yellowed teeth.
There was a pause. "Um...what is your situation?" the Enterprise's captain asked.
"One of our engines...overheated. Several of my crew were injured." The Daemon leaned forward. "We lack the medical supplies to take care of them, Captain. Perhaps you have some to spare."
"Of course." He looked back at his crew; they were all staring at the screen with matching looks of vague disgust, save for T'Pol. "We also have a highly trained medical staff if any of the injuries are severe."
"Oh, they are," Deg replied all too quickly.
Jonathan nodded slowly. "Well then. If you'll dock with us, we'll get to work right away. Also, my engineers can help you with repairs, if you need a hand there." He glanced back at Trip, who grimaced, but nodded. "We'll assemble a boarding party then."
"It is more than appreciated." The screen went blank in the middle of the Ferengi's crooked smile.
"I don't like it." Hoshi shook her head. "What kind of ship, even a cargo ship, doesn't carry medical supplies?"
"What do your sensors tell you?" Jonathan asked Malcolm
The British man lifted his shoulders. "There is damage to their engine, sir. Hard to tell how severe though; their systems are quite different than ours."
"Then we'll just have to proceed with caution. Trip, take one of your engineers over to assess the damage. I'll have Dr. Phlox assemble a medical team."
"Ferengi anatomy is unique," T'Pol said. "However, I have been studying it since we received the species profile from the High Council, and I feel confident in my ability to help Dr. Phlox's team."
Jonathan nodded. "All right. You'll go over, too, T'Pol."
Trip shook his head. "I don't think that's such a good idea. If it's all the same to ya, I'd rather T'Pol stay here where it's safe."
The Vulcan woman arched an eyebrow. "I do not need to be grounded as though I were infirm."
"Not sayin' that. I just don't want ya in any danger."
"Until Dr. Phlox tells me otherwise, I will continue to perform my everyday duties to the best of my ability," T'Pol replied coolly.
Trip folded his arms. "Capt'n?"
"Commander Tucker." Jonathan cleared his throat. This was probably going to set any hope of a reconciliation between him and his friend behind by several steps. "If Subcommander T'Pol thinks she's up for it, I see no reason to stop her yet." He put a hand on the back of Travis' chair. "Ensign...prepare the ship for docking procedures."
****
"Ya want me to do what?" Isabella stared at the strange doctor she had come to respect in her weeks aboard Enterprise. At that moment though, all she could think was that he was as crazy as her first impression of him had told her he would be. "Ya want me to go with the medical team to the alien ship?"
Dr. Phlox gave his youngest nurse a puzzled look. "Is this not why you joined your Starfleet? To encounter and explore?"
She let out a breath. "Yeah. Sure it is. I just...didn't know I'd be doin' it so soon."
"Never put off until tomorrow what you can do today." He handed her a metal carrying case. "Everything you need should be in here. Our alien...friends are humanoid for the most part. You'll do just fine."
"Yer not comin'?"
The doctor shook his head. "The Ferengi are not a species I wish to have anything to do with." He ushered her towards the door of Sickbay. "Go now or they'll be boarding without you."
"And that would be bad...why?"
"Think positively." The doors slid closed just in time for Isabella to catch a glimpse of the doctor's thumbs up. She exhaled a harsh breath and stamped her foot. The childish gesture was so satisfying that she did it again.
Unfortunately at that moment, T'Pol appeared from around the corner carrying a large plastic box. "I assume from the medical kit that Dr. Phlox is sending you to the Ferengi vessel."
Isabella lifted her chin. "Never underestimate Vulcan intelligence, I guess."
She stopped just in front of Trip's sister. The two women watched each other for a long moment. "As a Starfleet officer, I expect that your personal feelings will in no way effect this mission."
"As a Vulcan Subcommander, I 'spect ya have no personal feelin's at all," Isabella shot back.
T'Pol unlatched the box and pulled out a phase pistol. "Lieutenant Reed wants everyone to be prepared for the worst."
The younger girl took the weapon without hesitation. "Charlie wouldn't let anythin' happen to me."
Eyebrow raised, T'Pol continued down the corridor. Isabella followed, but only when there was a good gap between them. A few minutes later, they both found themselves in the antechamber to the docking bay along with Trip, two engineers, two security officers and another nurse. Hoshi was also there handing out universal translators.
"If you have any problems, I'll do my best to walk you through them," she told Isabella as she handed her the device.
"Yer not comin' along?"
Hoshi shook her head, not entirely regretfully. "But I'll be listening, don't worry."
"It's gonna be in and out," Trip declared. "Trust me when I say these guys are uglier than sin and we really don't wanna be hangin' out with 'em longer than necessary."
The Captain's voice reached them through the comm system. "Be cautious, all of you. Don't turn your backs on them. Call for help if you need it." He paused. "Good luck."
"That's not very reassuring," the other nurse whispered to Isabella. She didn't have time to reply; the doors were already opening into the airlock that would take them over to the damaged ship. Isabella Tucker took her first steps onto an alien vessel with trepidation. Despite the current strain between them, having her brother close by kept most of her fears at bay.
Unfortunately it did nothing for her revulsion upon seeing her first Ferengi a moment later. The short alien with huge ears approached their party rapidly, wringing his hands in a way that reminded Isabella of a ancient cartoon carpetbagger.
"Welcome Human friends." He grinned at them. "We are so very humbled by your..."
T'Pol cut him off. "Where are your injured crew members?"
"And your engine room?" Trip added.
Two more Ferengi appeared from the shadows. Isabella had to wonder if she was the only one drawing cockroach analogies in her head. "We have moved the wounded away from engineering," the leader informed them. "If you..." He motioned to Trip and his engineers. "...will follow Mag. And you..." His leer suddenly turned towards Isabella, T'Pol and the other nurse. "...follow me."
"I'd rather our team stay togeth..." As the Ferengi moved further away, Trip's protest trailed off. With a sigh, he turned to the security officers. "One of yall with each group." Both men nodded, each placing a hand on the phase pistol at their sides. Trip looked at T'Pol. "Be careful." She inclined her head slightly. He then glanced at his sister. "Izzy, same goes."
Managing a small smile, his sister followed T'Pol and the Ferengi leader, backed up by the nurse and security officer. Trip watched until they rounded a corner and disappeared from sight into the depths of the Ferengi ship.
****
"Do you wish to tell them or shall I?"
With one gloved hand resting on one of the two fallen Ferengi, Isabella looked up at the older woman. "Ya wouldn't mind?" But T'Pol was already heading towards the Ferengi leader who hovered near the door to their makeshift Sickbay. "Of course ya don't mind," she continued under her breath.
Her attention turned back to her patient. Her recently deceased patient. Even with their instruments and T'Pol's basic knowledge of the alien's anatomy, the strange little man had died only moments earlier, bleeding out through a massive chest wound.
As she slowly rose to her feet from her crouching position, Isabella pulled off her bloody gloves and shook out her cramped legs. Nearby, the nurse whose name she couldn't quite remember was working on a less injured Ferengi. The man was already sitting up and talking.
It was surprising how quickly she had acclimated to the strange Ferengi features. They no longer seemed quite as freakish. Still weird, but more of a curiosity than something to be afraid of.
The other nurse moved away from her patient and joined Isabella. "Just the one casualty?"
"Yeah." Trip's sister pointed at T'Pol. "She's lettin' them know. I guess we're just about done here."
"Good thing." The nurse shivered slightly. "I don't like these people. If you can even call them that."
Isabella patted her arm. "Why don't you go tell the lieutenant that we're done. We can join up with the engineers and get back to the ship."
The woman who was only a few years older than she nodded. "I'll be back." Isabella watched her leave the cramped room that was serving as a temporary Sickbay.
T'Pol walked back over to her a minute later. "Daemon Deg wishes to thank you for your attempts to save his crew member."
"Great," Isabella replied. "I didn't do anythin', but whatever." Her gaze fell on the other injured Ferengi. One of them had begun to convulse slightly. She was instantly on guard. "That one's in trouble!"
She and T'Pol ran for him, Isabella pausing only to grab her medical kit. She was pulling out a hypodermic syringe when she heard the doors slam shut. The room was suddenly plunged into darkness. "What the hell?" A red emergency light flooded over them, allowing minimal sight. Isabella looked at T'Pol. "What's going on?"
"I wish I knew." The Vulcan looked down at their Ferengi patient. "Perhaps we should ask him."
Isabella followed her line of sight; the alien who had been seizing a moment before was still shaking, but this time with laughter. He reached up and plucked their phase pistols from their hip holders, turning the weapons onto them. "It seems as though you'll be staying with us for awhile, lovely ladies."
****
One thing Trip had learned early on during his time with the Enterprise was that when you were staring down the barrel of any kind of weapon, especially one you didn't recognize, it was best to just put your hands up and do what you were told until you figured out a better course of action.
So, when the Ferengi officers who had been hovering over him and his crew as they worked suddenly pressed the equivalent of phase pistols against their necks, Trip immediately froze. "Hey," he said trying to turn his head without moving too much. "Just what the hell do ya think yer doin'?"
"Silence, Human! You will drop what you are doing and stand. With your hands in the air."
He muttered the most foul curse he could come up with under his breath. The Ferengi behind him dug the weapon into the back of his neck. "Okay!" He slowly dropped the tool in his hand and indicated for his men to do the same. "No need to get all crazy here. If there's somethin' ya want from us..."
"What we want, we are in the process of taking. On your feet!"
Trip stood just as slowly; with the new height difference between his crew and their captors, the weapons were now pointed up against the underside of their chins. Strategically...not much better than before. "I know somethin's wrong with yer ship. We're helpin' ya...what else could ya possibly want?"
Daemon Deg appeared, a leering smile on his twisted lips. "Escort the Commander and his crew back to the airlock. We have what we want now."
"Just so ya know...I'm no diplomat." Trip made a grab for the weapon at his throat. He almost had it when another Ferengi fired at him. The blast hit his right arm, burning and stunning at the same time. Trip clutched at the wound, doubling over from the pain. His guard took the opportunity to pistol-whip him across the face. Blood spurted over the front of his uniform and he felt Ferengi grab each of his arms. When he looked up, he saw his crew faring no better against the aliens; their security guard was unconscious.
He spoke around the blood in his mouth. "Whatever it is that ya want...take it. Just let me get...my people back to our ship. Intact."
"Thank you for your very generous offer, Commander." Daemon Deg signaled to his men and they began dragging the Engineering crew. "I believe that we will be taking you up on it." In the corridor, they joined up with another group of Ferengi escorting the second security and the other nurse.
"Wait...where's..." Trip's question was cut off by a kick to his knees.
They reached the airlock door and when pressure had been restored, the Enterprise crew were haphazardly thrust into it. Daemon Deg smiled at them. "It has been a pleasure to do business with your new Starfleet. I hope for many more such profitable exchanges between us."
Trip rubbed his forearm across his lower face. "We're missin' two of our crew, our Chief Science Officer and..."
The airlock door slid into place with a hiss and a metallic thud, leaving the bloody and bewildered crew in the small space between the Enterprise and the vacuum of space. The entire world seemed to shake as the Ferengi vessel broke away from the ship and disappeared in a bright burst of warp light.
He looked around the group, praying that he'd been mistaken and just hadn't seen his sister or his lover. But it wasn't his beaten mind playing tricks on him. They weren't there. They'd been taken into the depths of space by the Ferengi raiders.
What seemed like hours, but was in reality only a few minutes, the opposite end of the airlock opened. A security team along with Reed, Hoshi and the Captain stood on the other side, worry stamped across each of their faces.
"What happened?" Jonathan asked, bordering on the far side of panic. "Their ship just took off without warning."
"Communications got jammed," Hoshi continued, almost breathless from the run from the bridge.
"We're bloody lucky it didn't rip away this entire airlock and the lot of you with it," Malcolm added.
Hoshi had already started counting heads. "Where's Subcommander T'Pol...and Nurse Tucker?" She turned a horrified look towards Trip. "Oh my god...they're not..."
"They've got 'em." Trip looked straight at his oldest friend and commanding officer. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't protect my crew." Before the Captain could reply, Trip's shoulders slumped over and had it not been for the quick actions of the security man closest to him, he would have collapsed.
Jonathan reached for a comm panel. "Archer to Phlox, get a medical team down here on the double."
"Yes, Captain."
He turned his head to look out the airlock's tiny window. Space stretched out around them in every direction. And the two women he cared most about in the world could be anywhere in it...having anything conceivable done to them.
"Let's get a message to Starfleet and have them pass it on to the Vulcans." He spoke with practiced calm, although he would have liked to scream the words and accentuate them with punches to the walls. "We've got a renegade ship of Ferengi who have kidnapped two of Starfleet's personnel. We're going to go after them personally, but any allies we have...now would be the time to call in some favors. Hoshi?"
"I'll send it priority one," she replied softly.
"Senior staff meeting on the bridge in one hour. I'll want more than just ideas on how to track that ship; I'll be expecting solutions and projections." Jonathan bypassed the security officers and ducked underneath Trip's arm until he was single-handedly supporting his shell-shocked friend. "Understood?" There was a murmur of affirmative replies. "No one rests until they're back on board. And safe."
****
To Be Continued