Chapter 5: Beat The Heat

They were running along the corridor towards the turbo-lift and despite the knowledge that there must be some crisis situation that required the senior crew on the bridge, T'Pol's thoughts lingered with her mate. The just interrupted 'double date' with Malcolm and Hoshi had been a pleasant experience, but what worried her had been the ease with which Trip had switched to a pleasant mood. Just a day before he had been a sobbing pile of emotions over the strained relations with his family.

It was obvious that he was trying to do something that was definitely not healthy for humans. He was suppressing some of his emotions. She made a mental note to address this ill-fated idea at mimicking a Vulcan as soon as the current, yet unknown, crisis was over.

As the turbo-lift door hissed open, the four senior officers ran onto the bridge and relieved their counterparts of the graveyard ship.

"Sorry to wreck your evening," captain Archer apologized. "We've picked up an automated distress call from a Vulcan ship."

"Did they identify themselves?" T'Pol asked.

"The name is T'Planit," Hoshi added, listening to the recording. Archer shot T'Pol a questioning look.

"It's an ambassadorial courier – the personal transport of Ambassador Soval," she answered. Her face hid her shock only badly.

"How long to the rendezvous?"

"2.1 hours at warp 5.2, Sir," Travis answered swiftly, slightly biting is lower lip as he concentrated on flying the ship while still gathering all data he could.

"Another ship is approaching them," T'Pol interrupted. "They are ahead of us bearing 246 mark 25."

"They're traveling at warp 4.8 and at our current speed will beat us to it by 10 minutes," Travis added.

"Who is it?" Archer asked.

"Unidentified. The power signature is close to that of a Kumari-class, but not identical," T'Pol reported, typing and pushing away at her console visibly more frantic than usual.

"Too risky," Archer decided. "Trip can we get more out of the engines? As long as we don't know who they are, we've gotta be there before them."

"5.3, maybe 5.4 for a while, but we'll be redecorating engineering in the worst way in the process. We haven't completed all redesigns yet. And we'll probably be out of spares afterward."

"Damn!"

"I take care of it," Trip sighed and started towards the turbolift.

"Commander," T'Pol called after him. He stopped and shot her a questioning glance. "Be careful."

"Always, Commander," Trip answered with a short, if somewhat forced smile and sped off into the turbo-lift.

Archer watched the scene, bemused by T'Pol's mother-hen gesture, but also noted how consequently they had switched from date mode to duty professionalism. Trip had even addressed her by her rank. Wonders never ceased. He was almost grateful for the emergency. The gloom mood of earlier had left him with a strong urge to hole up in his quarters with a bottle of bourbon, which would not have helped matters. Now that someone needed their help, he could concentrate on his job as the captain, which freed him from his conflicting thoughts about his own life.

"Anna, take the automatic routines offline and control the intermix-ratio manually, keep it 0.3 below recommendation. That'll relieve the pressure a bit," Trip barked as he ran into engineering. "Rostov purge the manifolds!"

"What's wrong?" Anna Hess asked as she raced over to the console.

"We're gonna red-line the engines and it'll soon be a hellhole in here," Trip answered, frantically checking all his readouts. "Tucker to bridge, Cap'n were're ready down here! Start her at 5.3. I'll let ya know when we're ready for 5.4"

"Ok, give it a shot Cap'n."

The voice of Commander Tucker over the com sounded as if he'd run a marathon, and considering he'd been trying to coax more than warp 5.3 out of the lobotomized engine for over twenty minutes, he could just as well have done so,

"Travis, warp 5.4," the captain ordered, trying to appear calm.

"We should pass them in 5 minutes," Travis reported.

"Hold her steady, Ensign. Trip, how's the status in engineering?"

"Engineering's ... oh for pete's sake!..." Trip's swearing was interrupted by the muffled sound of a small explosion and an audible thud, which sounded very much like a Commander hitting the deck. Another furious Russian blue-streak sounded over the com, which made Hoshi gasp and blush deeply.

T'Pol watched Hoshi's reaction. Considering Ensign Sato's radical change in facial coloring, it could only mean that her mate's latest venture into foreign language outbursts contained an even stronger message than mating with someone else's mother. It did not sound like he had paid much attention to her latest advise of being careful.

"'Everything OK' would sound different," Archer sighed. "Keep the channel open, Hoshi, just in case Commander Tucker's..."

"Cap'n, I'm evacuat'n all non-critical personnel from engineering! We've got 60° centigrade down 're. It's a damn hell-hole. I can hold it for another 2 minutes or so, any longer and we're gonna have to get out and push 'er home."

The rapid stream of word over the com link, in connection with his worsening accent made T'Pol acutely aware that there was a real emergency developing on their own ship. The worry over Tela'at Soval was accompanied by a growing concern for the safety of her mate. She exchanged a glance with Lieutenant Reed and even the usually calm and collected tactical officer looked somewhat concerned. However, she found his almost imperceptible nod strangely reassuring.

"Ok, Trip, hold it for 2 minutes, then we go back to 5.1," the captain ordered over the still open connection to engineering.

"Like the sound 'o that..."

"T'Pol, where's the other ship?"

The captains inquiry helped her push her emotions back for later processing. "We passed them 0.55 minutes ago. At Warp 5.1, we would reach the T'Planit 4.5 minutes before them."

"Ok, Travis, 5.1, give Trip a break."

"Aye..."

"EVERYBODY GET OUT! T'S GONNA BE NASTY!" Trip's shouting sounded through the still open connection to engineering. A series of explosions were followed by an almighty thud, very suspiciously sounding like someone violently slamming into a solid object. The connection went silent and only hissing sounds – probably coolant leaks – remained.

"Archer to Engineering!"

The captain's request was met by silence, only the hissing of several leaks could be heard.

"Archer to Engineering!"

Finally, an answer came. "Engineering, Hess here. We have casualties, we can sustain 5.1, nothing more. Engineering is a mess," a very heavily breathing Lieutenant reported.

"We'll send help," Archer offered. "T'Pol, Malcolm, go down, see if you can help, I'll alert Phlox."

"Aye, Sir."

"Oh, bloody Hell!" Malcolm uttered, when he followed T'Pol into engineering. The air was scorching hot. "T'Pol, over there!"

They found the unconscious body of Commander Tucker and T'Pol reached for his neck to check for a pulse. She found one, but it was weak and unsteady. "T'Pol to Phlox, medical emergency in engineering."

"I'm already on my way," Phlox replied with the calm of a man who had seen such a situation thousands of times, and T'Pol realized that of course Lieutenant Hess would have already called for medical help.

"Commander, I'll check for other casualties, maybe you can keep an eye on Trip," Malcolm offered and T'Pol answered with a grateful glance and a nod.

"Two more injured, but they can walk. Looks like Trip took the brunt of it," Reed reported just two minutes later, when the medics and Dr. Phlox arrived.

"No spinal injuries," Phlox summarized after hovering his scanner over the fallen Commander. "Load him on the stretcher and off to sickbay. Where are the other casualties?"

Captain Archer, Lt. Reed and Commander T'Pol filed into the ready room.

"What's the status?" the captain asked.

"Commander Tucker, Lt. Rostov and Ensign McInally are in sickbay. Severe damage to the EPS grid, but Lt. Hess is convinced it is repairable. A life support team is working on returning the temperature in engineering to normal levels as quick as possible," T'Pol summarized.

"Okay. We will reach the T'Planit in about 30 minutes. Lt. Reed, assemble a team of MACO's to accompany T'Pol to the ship when we get there,"

"Aye, Sir," Reed nodded and left, sending T'Pol one last reassuring look. The captain found it odd for two reasons. First the two of them had not had much of a history of communicating at all, and secondly, that it was T'Pol who looked more upset. But then he remembered what event the current crisis had interrupted.

"How's Trip?" Archer asked, once Malcolm has left.

"Phlox says he is stable," T'Pol answered tersely. "We should concentrate on planning the rescue-mission."

"Of course," Archer nodded. "We can't dock, just in case this mysterious ship is hostile, so you've got to go in a shuttle pod. We've got about 4 minutes before those guys arrive. I don't think that'll be enough."

"There is one option," T'Pol answered. "We could sling-start the shuttle pod."

"How's that work?"

"We will spool up the shuttle pod's engines and open the launch bay doors. Since the latest refit shuttles launch and land through a forward facing door, as you might remember. After we drop out of warp, Enterprise comes to an emergency full-stop from maximum impulse speed. The inertial energy will catapult the shuttle out of the bay. That will give us more speed than possible on own propulsion for at least 30 seconds."

"Sounds dangerous. We've only had a single test with Trip's partially disabled inertial dampers so far."

"It is dangerous, but it is the only chance to dock with the T'Planit in under 4 minutes."

"Have you done something like that before?" the captain asked, not knowing if he really wanted to know.

"No, but my theoretical calculations have shown the risks to be manageable."

"I would start to argue with you, but you've proven me wrong often enough, so I'll trust your instincts."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Commander," he called out, before she reached the door. "Be careful."

"Always, Captain," she answered and Archer couldn't help smiling, despite the dire situation.

Sergeant Amanda Cole and her MACO's stood lined up, waiting for Commander T'Pol to arrive.

"Ten-hut!" Amanda ordered as T'Pol entered.

"At ease," the Vulcan returned and addressed the soldiers.

"The transfer to the target will be fairly unpleasant. The human term would be 'a wild ride' as we will have to reroute power from the inertial dampers to the engines. The dampers will work at reduced power. It is imperative that you all strap in firmly as soon as we board the shuttle. Once we are aboard, I expect my directions to be followed to the letter. Board the shuttle."

"Ten-hut, right-face," Cole commanded.

T'Pol watched the MACOs move in an orderly, almost choreographed manner. Her fondness for structure and order admired this, but she also wondered if this was an instance of what Commander Tucker liked to call 'showing off' on behalf of the MACO's.

As soon as the shuttle's hatch was closed, the launch bay was de-pressurized and the doors where opened, despite Enterprise still being at full impulse-speed. Any oncoming object, like a small meteorite could now do devastating damage, but the stricken Vulcan ship provided suitable shielding. The T'Planit was visible directly ahead.

"Shuttlepod 2 to Enterprise, we are ready to start."

"Acknowledged. Start in 30 seconds."

The countdown was nearing completion. Amanda Cole was startled slightly when she heard the Vulcan in the pilot seat mutter, "Here we go."

She couldn't follow up that thought as suddenly her breath was taken away by a massive acceleration. A hideous screeching sound filled her ears as the shuttle slid across the launch bay floor and was hurled out of the door, leaving two smoking trails behind.

Sergeant Cole became increasingly worried, since it looked like the Vulcan would smash them head-on into the other ship. At what looked like the last possible moment, the pointy-eared pilot forced the shuttle into a steep dive and, after a while, into a steep ascent as they dove below the Vulcan transport. Once the obstacle was cleared, the passenger's stomachs where field-tested as the shuttle was yanked into a looping roll, ending with them facing the opposite direction of where they had come from. T'Planit's docking port was almost straight ahead. Spooling down the engines, T'Pol coasted the last part of the distance and they docked with a hefty clunk. So that was what Vulcans called 'a wild ride', Amanda thought as she shook her head to rattle her senses back in order.

"Enterprise, we have docked," the Vulcan reported, just over 2 minutes after being catapulted out of Enterprise's launch bay.

"Jesus Christ!" Travis exclaimed with wide opened eyes as he watched T'Pol's shuttle-acrobatics.

"The other ship is approaching," Malcolm reported. "They're charging weapons."

"Full power to hull plating," Archer barked before being thrown to the floor as a phase cannon hit rocked the ship.

"Full hit to phaser cannons, one offline."

"Torpedoes, full yield!"

"Their shields are down," Malcolm analyzed as the screen showed two of the Mark II photonic torpedoes smash into the attacker, which looked suspiciously like a Kumari-class cruiser of the Andorian Imperial Guard. Why would the Andorians attack them? Or could this be another one of those blasted drone ships?

Another hit rocked Enterprise. And Malcolm reported that both cannons were now useless.

"We could ram them," Travis offered.

"What?" Archer looked at him in disbelief.

"With shuttle pod 1, the way we launched Commander T'Pol," Travis clarified. "Just without people in it, of course."

"Aw, what the hell?" Archer growled. "De-pressurize launch bay 1, prepare to open doors."

Travis performed the same L4-maneuver that they had used once to get rid of Duras and positioned the ship directly behind the attacker.

"Open doors, full emergency stop in 10 seconds!"

When Enterprise came to a sudden halt, the crew looked on as the uncontrolled shuttle hurtled towards the Andorians and exploded as it smashed into their propulsion section, setting off a bigger, secondary explosion.

"They're dead in the water, Sir," Malcolm reported with the tiniest of smug smiles.

Wordlessly, T'Pol directed the MACO's along the corridors. Even for her disciplined emotional control, the picture looked too grim. Vulcan corpses littered each room they had entered so far. The walls were scarred from the fire-fight had had happened with whomever responsible for the massacre. Two critically injured survivors had been found so far and transported to Enterprise's sickbay.

As they entered the meditation chamber, T'Pol's control lapsed for a second as she gasped audibly.

Soval!