I Got Your Back - by Fatey, Dolarabee & Scribe

FEBRUARY 4TH 2162 1940 hrs
Cargo hold 2, MACO reserved area
USS Enterprise NX-01

"What's this?" Sloane threw a flask on Merrick's lap when she got to where he was sitting in the MACO rec space. The room was empty and Merrick appeared to be going over some data on the PADD in his hands.

Merrick looked down at the flask and recognised it as his. His first thought was what she was doing in his things. His second thought was how he was going to explain it. Reacting with typical hostility when he was cornered, he tossed the pad on the table and looked at her.

"You tell me," he said with accusation in his eyes.

"Don't play games, Merrick. Hayes was doing his rounds. This was sticking out of your field pack... in front of your locker." Her tone was low, controlled.

"So because it was sticking out, you felt the need to go through it?" He stood up, glaring at her, feeling the stirrings of real anger, not to mention a need for what was inside the flask.

"You jerk..." she hissed, her eyes levelling with his. "I covered your ass."

"Covered my ass....," he swallowed thickly realising what she had done. She hadn't gone through his stuff to call him out on the flask, she had done it to hide it before someone else saw it. Someone else like Hayes maybe. "Oh fuck..." he started to curse.

"Merrick..." she started, knowing this was a losing battle. They'd been here a few times before. Policing from her and empty promises from him. "I thought you said you'd kick off the stuff?"

"Well, you know how it is," he shrugged, unable to meet her gaze. He had promised her what four times already, because that's how many times she's brought it up. Had she been covering then too. "Look, I can handle it alright."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, starting to walk away. He was a good man. A good soldier. She wouldn't be covering for him if she didn't trust him in the field. But lately... he was getting a bit sloppy... like leaving the flask out in the open. She was starting to wonder if she was doing anybody a favour by not reporting him. Hell, what if he lost it on the job and someone got injured - or worse? "Just pick up your shit next time, you hear?" She threw that over her shoulder before heading to the MACO weapons' lockup on the other side of their designated space in one of the cargo hold of the NX-01.

Tom watched her go and knew that she had been covering from him and felt like a right shit for his accusation earlier. She was right, he knew it but the idea of giving it up, of having nothing to fall back on, it was too much for him to cope. Besides, he was fine. He just needed a pick me up every now and then. Hair of the dog or what not, you know. "McRae," he called after her before she got too far away, "thanks."

She paused her walk and turned back to him. "You know what, Merrick? Just make sure I don't have to do it again... make sure this isn't going to whip me on the ass later." She ran a hand over her face, then over her hair to finish by pulling on her pony tail. She was about to suggest something she knew the man would most likely bite her head off for. "Look... anything you want to talk about?" Not that she had ever considered herself confidante material but maybe the man needed to vent or something. She could do that. Listen. Without judging.

"No," he said automatically. He didn't need to talk, he didn't need to get in touch with his feelings or any other fucking thing. He just wanted to be left alone. He could handle it. A man can't handle things on his own, wasn't much of a man. That's what his father always said and the bastard was though. Didn't he beat it into Tom enough over his youth?

"Suit yourself," she let out before she started walking away again. Then she stopped and turned on her heels. "Why don't you come and help me with this, Merrick. Weapons check. The faster it gets done, the faster I'm out of your hair," she said with a grin. She had let go. She wasn't going to bring it up again. At least not until she had to.

He paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he was going to be a git about this or take the peace offering she was extending. In the end, the latter seemed the most sensible cause. Less bitching that way. "Sure, McRae," he replied, running his hands through his closely scalped hair. "Though that's not bloody much of it left to get out off." He offered a wry grin.

Sloane chuckled at that. "Come... get off your ass. You can tell me all about this Godzilla shite you always preach about."

"I'm telling you, McRae," he said, chuckling. "You'll identify with Godzilla..."

Merrick was grateful that Sloane opted to let the matter drop and as they headed to lock up, wondered whether or not she was right. However, as always, he was quick to rationalise that he knew himself better than someone else did and in the opinion of the expert, Tom Merrick was doing just fine. They made their way down the corridor when suddenly the ship slipped into yellow alert. This required them at stations immediately, even if the threat was not dire.

"Bloody hell," Merrick grumbled. "No rest for the weary, eh, McRae?" He give her a look as they hastened their pace.

"Hell, no. What would be the fun in that," she threw back with a wink. Deep down, she got a bad feeling about this but didn't let it show. "Let's go find out what's got Starfleet's knickers in a twist."

They joined the throng of bodies that were hurrying to the MACO station on board Enterprise, becoming lost in the crowd of their comrades that were moving in the same direction as if they were a flock of geese or something similarly absurd. The low whine of the yellow alert klaxon was like a shrill sound in Merrick's head but he said nothing to McRae about it. Last thing she needed to know was the fact that he was suffering a mild case of hangover.

*****

"Captain's Log, Stardate 4th of February, 2162."

"Enterprise has just received a distress call from the SS Ganges, one of Gaia's freighters on a supply run to Rigel. The freighter has engaged and destroyed a Xindi scout ship, possibly reptilian in origin. However, the vessel has sustained severe damage to its engines and its structural integrity. They have lost warp capability and was barely able to limp to a nearby system on impulse. The Ganges had taken up low orbit around a planet but has depleted its power reserves to the point that it is unable to reach escape velocity of the planet's gravitational field. A scan of the atmosphere indicates the possibility of a Berthold Ray storm within a matter of 36 hours."

*****

The yellow alert had the duty bound Lt. Colonel change his course mid-step as Gabriel spun in a one-eighty and put a quick step to his footing. Hoofing it double time to the bridge, he reported amongst the other senior officers.

"This is the situation, folks," Tucker went straight in the thick of it, sweeping his gaze over his senior staff. "According to the science station, the Ganges is in for a world of hurt if we don't get to her before that storm. Berthold Rays are absolutely fatal, they'll strip the flesh of a human the instant it makes contact. It's capable of destroying all organic tissue. With the hull integrity of the Ganges compromised, they may not be able to withstand it."

A ripple of anxiety went through the crew standing at readiness, listening to their Captain relay the precarious state the SS Ganges found herself in.

"We have a very narrow margin of time to act people, so this is how we're going to do it. Malcolm I want the MACO's to handle the rescue operation. From what Hoshi has been able to tell us, the Ganges wasn't able to jam the scouts transmissions before it was destroyed. So it's possible they were able to get out a distress signal. If that's the case, we're gonna have company and I want security on the bridge, in case we get into a fight."

Reed nodded his understanding. "Aye, sir."

Turning to the MACO Commander, Tucker took a deep breath and issued his next set of orders. "Colonel, I'm going to leave the rescue in your hands but essentially we need to evacuate the personnel and reacquire the cargo if possible. The Ganges was carrying medical supplies and frankly, Gaia can't afford for us to not make an attempt to salvage it."

"Understood, sir," Hayes replied, already processing the data he'd been given and setting up a plan of action in his head.

"Hoshi," Tucker looked at the delicate-looking communications officer, "tell the doctor in Sick Bay to get ready for casualties. We could be looking at possibly thirty to forty injured people, depending on the nature of the hull failure. Chances are there will be some form of radioactive contamination. We will let him know as we get more information. In any case, stand by to be flooded. Also inform the Transporter Chief that I want storage Bins 2 and 3 cleared. If possible move the supplies into the Shuttle Bay 2. We need the space for the medical supplies."

"Yes Captain..." Hoshi replied, keying Sickbay. She had no trouble remembering the string of orders from Trip and filled them in the exact order he called them out.

"Alright people, let's move like we got a purpose," Tucker said finally, not waiting to see if they did, and made his way back to the command chair.

Hayes turned to a nearby console and proceeded to issue orders to his men. He spoke to his second in command but went wide-band for all MACOs to hear, giving them the clearest view on the situation available.

"Major McRae, you're to take three teams. I want two to concentrate on locating the crew for an immediate evac. I want the third one to prep the cargo for the transporter. You have your orders."

*****

"You heard the man," McRae let out, doing a recap of the orders given to them over the comms. She always tried to do this, to get a visual on the men's reaction and gauge their readiness.

"Louis, you have cargo detail. Be swift. We need to transport those goodies onboard in case this ship is unsalvageable." She got a sharp nod from Sergeant Brennan, so she turned to Merrick, standing a couple of feet away from her, at the head of his own team.

"Tom, you're with me. Come on, ladies. Let's play knight in shining armour." With that, two MACOs manually opened the hatch that lead into the Ganges. McRae took point and they filed in after on the double.

Tom kept in step with McRae as she led them into the depths of the damaged ship. Even though the structural damage on the hull was severe, it felt in much worse shape when they moved through the narrow corridors. A stench of mechanical fluids filled the air. The environmental controls were offline so the temperature outside was on a steady increase owing to the fires scattered through the vessel. Even though temperature was regulated within the EV suits, Merrick still felt like he was broiling. Following McRae, his eyes studied the path before them cautiously. Live wires and conduits dangled energetically from the ceilings.

"How many do you think they lost?" he asked. The impact was hard and he was surprised the walls weren't awash with blood.

"I don't know," Sloane replied, aware that her initial shrug at the question wouldn't have been seen by him due to the heavy suit they wore. "Crew of thirty-six according to the manifest. Some had families. Lt. Sato had not finished assessing the whole number yet before we went in." McRae didn't want to dwell on how many they'd already lost but rather on how many they could bring out now.

Due to the danger of the Berthold storm, the crew had moved themselves into the centre of the ship, hoping that shelter would be best provided by the several layers of bulkhead that the radioactive storm would have to penetrate in order to reach them. New fires were breaking out everywhere as they moved through the corridor, panels were exploding from overload, ruptured energy systems were frying circuits as they can through the ship. The smoke was so thick in places it was almost hard to see. Tom was starting to fear as they moved towards its innards that there would be no one left to find on the Ganges.

Fucking Xindi, he cursed.

"We're getting in deeper. Still no sign of anyone. Colonel, talk to me," Sloane said through the comms.

*****

Looking over at Hoshi, the Lt. Colonel barked, "Sato, have you got a link hook up on Ganges?" Blind, he stood his post, ready to give commands based on the information from NX-01's bridge to his MACOs below. There was that training. The trust. The bond of bloodshed during these battles with the Xindi. He anticipated a battle, as one just never knew what could be left behind.

Frowning, Hoshi glanced over at Hayes before answering him. "Power spikes are making comms shaky, sir," she replied over her shoulder, fiddling with another button. "But...I have their transponder locations locked in. Teams One and Two are accounted for, and approximately 40 meters from a group of Ganges crewmen...reading... 20 life signs."

"Do you show Team Three at the other end of the pipeline?"

"Yes, sir," Hoshi replied. "They're down by one," she relayed. Surely.. no. No, Hoshi couldn't find the last life sign on Team Three.

"What do you mean, Team Three is down by one?" He moved over to look over her shoulder, glancing at monitors. Concern for his men hidden on that well seasoned face.

"I can only account for nine life signs on Team Three... they went in with ten," Hoshi explained, a permanent frown on her face as she studied the console.

It wasn't exactly Greek to him, but the console was not offering Hayes anything he could use. "Is there increased activity with Team Three?" Did they run into the Xindi?

"Bio signs read increased heart rates..." Hoshi's hands suddenly flew to the console, an echo of something that only her sensitive ears could catch. "Spike!" she called just before all the blips dropped off the console. A second later, they reappeared. Teams One and Two had moved approximately two inches.. or ten feet towards the survivors. Team Three had not moved.

The delay for McRae and Merrick was longer than he would have liked. Into the comm to the away teams, Hayes barked to Sloane, "Straight ahead forty meters. We've got twenty, repeat, twenty Ganges' life signs huddled in the centre of the ship and we're loosing connection with parts of Team Three. Fall out interference." Parts of his voice began to cut out to the away team and he could hear the connection dropping in and out. "McRae? Do you copy?"

"Major!" The comms went dead and he heard nothing.

*****

She had heard enough of the Colonel's mangled communication to make sense of it. Sloane turned to Merrick and nodded. Well, at least now they knew where to concentrate their search. "Copy that." A burst of static from the comm unit rang through her ears. "Not sure they heard that, Captain." She gave a look to Merrick. "I can't raise the bridge now. You?" She carried on walking and scanning their surroundings, waiting for Merrick to reply. She hoped it was only her radio and not their whole communication systems on the fritz due to that damn storm or interference from the crippled ship.

"No bloody luck," he grunted tapping his headset as if that would make any difference. "I think we're getting inference from all the power spikes throughout the ship. This place is charged, Major," Merrick responded and as he said that, another wall panel flared spectacularly, sending white embers across the steel floor. "I think we ought to proceed anyway. We have a general idea of where they are and we can probably raise the ship once we've cleared the structure."

"I agree," Sloane said, stepping over some debris littering the floor. "Let's pick up the pace a little." Yeah, she couldn't wait to get out of there. It was starting to feel like a tomb. They carried on this slalom through a maze of corridors then something caught Sloane's eyes. To her left, overload panels were all in the red, and spiking. "Fuck," she let out, grabbing Merrick's suit by the shoulder to pull him back.

"Fall back," she cried to the other MACOs behind them and everyone staggered backwards and turned to run back from where they came. Merrick and McRae, now bringing up the rear, barely rounded a corner before an explosion rocked the ship and a bright light blinded everyone. The heat wave followed the shock and would have roasted them alive if not for the suits.

"FUCK!"

Merrick cursed as the fireball swept past them and his hands went instinctively to his eyes. Even though the suit protected him, the reaction was instinctive. He barely managed to keep on his feet, forced to grab a bulkhead for support and saw McRae having similar trouble herself. He grabbed her arm without thinking, helping her steady herself as the shockwave rippled through the ship.

Their eyes met and she thanked him silently while she found a better purchase.

"We'll have to find another way to get to them," he said, looking at the path they were going to take and seeing that it was breathed in fire. Emergency fire suppression units should have been kicking into being but like everything else on this ship right now, that too was damaged.

"Brennan," McRae barked into the comms, not really aware as her ears were still ringing. Waiting for an answer from the sergeant, she nodded to Merrick. "Take the lead for now. I'll be right behind you."

"Right," he nodded and looked over his shoulder at the others. "Come on, these people aren't going to find themselves!" He took another turn away from the burning corridor, certain he had seen a maintenance access way when they were studying the ship's specs prior to their landing. The path was no less treacherous with similar signs of damage. One wall had actually buckled entirely, the steel protruding dangerously at them as he moved past. "Watch where you're going!" He ordered as he moved past it and sighed a narrow set of steel steps leading through the floor.

"McRae," he spoke into his headset. "I found a way in. It's a small maintenance staircase, probably used by engineers to get down to the core quickly."

"Good work. I'm on my way," she said, as she mingled amongst the rest of the team following Merrick. She was busy trying to communicate with the third team, which is why she'd rather have someone else on point, someone who could have their full attention on the job.

"Brennan, come in, you little slob," she growled, a growing concern showing in her voice. That last explosion had been a little too close for comfort. Made her wonder what the others might have run into. More static came through and then she recognised Brennan's voice. "You're breaking up, Louis. If you can read this... we're still looking for the crew. Whatever you do to get Tucker his bounty, do it fast." She thought she heard him acknowledge but she couldn't be sure. Damn interference. She pushed in through the men quickly, finding Merrick a few paces ahead of her.

"There it is," he indicated the steel staircase leading downward through the floor. "It doesn't look like much but if it's an engineer's access, chances are it's laid out to avoid primary area of breach if the ship's damaged. It would make sense that the crew might have taken this route to the centre of the ship, less likely to encounter what we almost did."

She nodded with a big grin on her face. "Well done, Captain." She took point again, not ready to let someone else face anything nasty. "After me... gimme a few feet in case this isn't as sturdy and stable as it looks." She started down the staircase, the light on the top of her rifle illuminating the dark surroundings below. "Looks like no energy down there, boys. Like they shut it down on purpose and rerouted everything maybe... to keep themselves safe." She spoke softly, giving her troops an idea of what to expect as she climbed down each step. "Alright, touch down."

They stopped onto what looked like a service deck. It was dimly but there was machinery everywhere. It wouldn't surprise Merrick to know that numerous ship's systems could be controlled from this point. Of course as McRae had detected earlier, there was nothing powered. Considering how close this ship was to reaching critical, it was a sensible choice.

"McRae," he declared, gesturing towards a steel door at the other side of the deck, just barely visible beneath the light of the torch. "Service hatch."

McRae joined him quickly. They exchanged glances, pretty much guessing the same thing. "Well, let's check it out." She swung her rifle on its sling around her shoulder and grabbed the lever. Looking up at Merrick, she asked, "Ready?" His weapon raised, he nodded and she pulled the metal bar towards her, releasing the locking mechanism. "Now," she said, pushing the hatch toward the inside of the room beyond and pulled back to let Merrick do his job.

Merrick moved in slowly, weapon drawn. He didn't expect trouble but these people had fled a Xindi attack and they might think that whomever is having the run of their ship may not be human. There was no way for them to know that their distress call had been received by friendlies. The interior was cast iron, some kind of storage area, most likely for radioactive material. It made sense. It would be the one place that was fully contained even against Berthold Rays.

He had no more than an instant to make the observation when he saw something moving through the dark, a hand clenching a tool of some kind. MACO training kicked him and he blocked the strike with his gun and swung wide. His rifle connected with something soft and a grunt of pain was heard.

"Major!" Merrick shouted. "I think I found them!"

Sloane heard the clanking of metal and moved in, already pushing her helmet off. She knew this would help the crew understand that they were no threat. "We're with Starfleet's Military Assault Command Operations. "I'm Maj. McRae. We're here to answer your distress call."

Her light shone on the people piled up at the other end of the container, assessing their state and how quickly they could be moved. "Where is Capt. Hale? We don't have much time."

"I'm Capt. Hale," the figure who had attacked Merrick finally made himself known, coughing slightly from the pain of having a phase rifle jammed into his belly. "We didn't know anyone received it. We thought you were Xindi."

"The Xindi would shoot first and never asks questions," Merrick drawled. "Sorry about that," he said as Hale approached.

"Captain," Sloane shook the man's hand and cut to the chase. "We need to move out now. We have a team taking care of your cargo but what I need from you now is to get your people ready." Her eyes met the man's gaze. "Any injured? Any that can't be moved?"

"A few of our people have plasma burns but they're not too severe. They can be moved but they'll need treatment. Those who couldn't be moved we couldn't bring with us," he said dropping his gaze. "We just want to get off this ship right now," he said with a strained breath and Merrick could hear the shudder in his voice, which told the Captain how close the man was from breaking down.

The Ganges was a supply ship. The risk factor was minimal even in these days of Xindi attacks. This man probably never had to make life or death decisions, like starship captain was required to do on a daily basis.

"We can treat them as soon as we get onboard Enterprise," Sloane told him, a reassuring hand on the man's shoulder. "If all goes well, in thirty minutes, we'll all be cleared out of here. Come on, let's do this, Captain." Sloane turned and started issuing orders to the two teams. Soon, everyone was being helped out.

The rest of the team moved in quickly to help with the evacuation. As Hale indicated, the majority of wounds were caused by plasma fires. McRae made another attempt to contact Enterprise to report their present status but it appeared the heavy shielding of the storage chamber as well as the interference overhead was making it difficult. It didn't matter anyway, Enterprise's CMO would be on standby to receive casualties as a matter of procedure even if they had lost radio contact for the moment. Thirty minutes of brisk work by the MACOs and all the crew were evacuated from the hold.

"Well, that's it," Merrick said as he and McRae were the only ones left in the empty room. "We better join them."

"Yep, let's go," she said with a nod, motioning him out first. As soon as they got out of the storage room, she tried calling Brennan again. "Sergeant, report."

"Brennan here," his voice came across very patchy at best. "You're breaking up, Major. Enterprise wants a status report and so does the lieutenant-colonel," he added with a chuckle.

"What's your status, Louis?" Sloane said instead, knowing she couldn't do anything about reaching Hayes just now.

"We're nearly done here, sir. The storm is coming in fast. We have orders to leave-" And the communication was severed again.

"Fuck," Sloane cursed, looking at Merrick. "We better go now. I wanted to do a perimeter check, make sure we got everyone... but that damn storm..." she let trailed, pulling her helmet back on.

"We fight the fights we can win, McRae," Merrick joked, knowing that corny philosophy would only make her want to chew deutronium. "We better get our arses moving anyway, those explosions are getting a good deal worse," his eyes shifted to the bulkhead as if he could see the explosions rocking through the ship. "We don't get off this thing soon I don't think we'll have to worry about the storm getting us."

"I hear you," she smirked, bumping his shoulder while he checked her helmet was locked in place. "Come on, Tom. Let's blow this joint. Never liked the atmosphere anyway." She started up the staircase.

*****

*****

As always McRae took the lead but that was McRae's way and Merrick was more than used to it by now. She made her way up the winding staircase and Merrick felt a sense of relief to be escaping this stygian place. The explosions were growing more frequent and even though they were heavily shielded on this deck, Merrick felt trapped nevertheless. It was just his nerves he thought to himself and wished that it was anyone but McRae he was paired with at the moment, because the flask in his pack would come in handy about...

The explosion was loud and sudden. Merrick barely able to maintain his footing on the narrow walkway. It appeared that the wall on which the staircase was attached exploded outward. Merrick grabbed hold of the railing as he felt something come loose and suddenly they were moving.

"Oh shit!" he shouted as he saw the staircase start to fall. Locking his arms around the railing, he was only just kept from flung off the damn thing. Feeling the wind rush, Merrick braced himself as the staircase detached from the wall and started to fall towards reactor core. It was a drop of almost 50 feet and fatal. Thinking that he had only a few seconds to kiss his ass goodbye, Merrick was suddenly surprised when they came to a jarring halt.

The staircase had been halted from its lethal plunge by a walkway over the core. He raised his head and saw that it was possible for them to reach safety if they could move slowly off the staircase. They. Shit. McRae.

"McRae!" Merrick shouted as he remembered the major.

Her name shouted in her ears jerked her stunned head. Blinking, she tried to move and look around to see where she had landed... no, she hadn't - yet. Her movement made the sling of her phase rifle slip from where it had stuck around her torso and shoulder, suddenly snapping free. Sloane felt herself drop a couple of feet instantly as she tried to hang on to what she could. One hand on whatever piece of metal passed by her left, the other twisted in the weapon's sling, she froze and looked down. Straight down. Fifty feet at least, she guessed from where she was. A drop straight down to the reactor core. She blinked, letting out a ragged breath. Tilting her head upward slowly, cursing the damn helmet obstructing her vision, she realised that it was her weapon getting stuck in the railing that had saved her life. Stretching a bit to the left, she could see the staircase, now a mangled shape of metal collapsed on the little narrow walkway above the core. So she wasn't dangling off the railing of the staircase as she'd first thought. No. She'd had rolled off the grid-like platform of the suspended walkway and it was a part of that railing she needed to head for.

She tried shaking her head to clear it, but only brought up a nauseous feeling. She could see cracks in the plexi compound of her helmet and she guessed she must have taken a nasty blow to the head. Great. Just what I need. The explosion had been a few feet ahead of her, and judging by her situation now, she must have been thrown clear off the staircase. Okay, she told herself. You got your bearings, now get your ass on something a little less thin than air.

For a terrifying moment, Merrick was faced with the possibility that McRae had gone over and that almost made him sick to the stomach. No, no, not on his watch. He was not going to be the Captain that lost Sloane McRae, Battle Bitch of the North. Derick would never forgive him. He looked up the staircase and saw no sign of her and immediately began searching the length of the walkway below.

"McRae!" he shouted, hoping she was alive to answer.

"Merrick," she let out, glad her comms still worked in that banged up helmet of hers. "Fuck, Tom. So glad to hear your voice right now..."

Merrick closed his eyes for a moment as he was overcome with relief at the sound of her voice. "All you girls say that but you never mean it in the morning," Merrick joked. "Where are you?"

Sloane let out a chuckle that nearly choked her when the structure let her down a few more inches, shifting her grip. She didn't know how long she could hold. Her gloved hand on a damaged tubular piece sticking out of the metal frame was slipping, and the sling twisted around her right forearm was blocking the circulation, rendering her hand useless. "Try below," she said through gritted teeth. She guessed he was above her, and if not, way down below is where she would be shortly anyway.

Merrick immediately looked down at the walkway and didn't catch sight of her immediately but now that he knew that she was on it, did more than a cursory sweep of the narrow platform. He moved carefully off the staircase framework, aware that it was perched rather precariously and had no desire to upend the thing at least until he knew what the situation was. He managed to land on the walkway and noted that it was not very stable. Moving carefully forward, it didn't take him long to spot McRae. Ah shit... it was a miracle she hadn't taken the fall already.

"I see you, Sloane," he said, approaching the edge where she dangled dangerously. "I'm not gonna let you fall."

"My prince charming," she quipped, trying to see him over the edge. "I'm gonna try and climb a bit. I'm too low." With that she tried to raise her legs up, swinging them to one side so at least the top one could connect with the base of the walkway and find a hold. A gut-wrenching cry was the fruit of her effort as her head started swimming and her vision blurred. What she missed was the sound of metal slamming against metal, but she didn't miss the searing pain. She got that loud and clear. "Fuck," she breathed out with difficulty, her reserves fading fast. Her grip was loosening. "Merrick... bloody hell. I'm..." She was going to fall. Just like that.

The cry almost made him jump out of his skin because it was an alien sound coming from McRae and was even more chilling that she had made it all. He reached the edge and looked down to see that she was hanging on by not very much. The platform was getting more unstable. If he didn't pull her out soon, they would both go over. That would be the end to a perfect fucking day, he thought. Looking down, he saw what had caused her to cry out, a piece of metal protruding from the flesh part of her thigh. It has sliced straight through the EV suit and was causing a growing pool of blood on the fabric.

"Hold bloody still," he ordered her, not even questioning the fact that he was a captain and she could take his orders with a pinch of goat shit really. He lowered as much of his body as he dared over the edge and reached out for her.

"You crazy sod," she let out between two hard breaths, seeing him appear over the edge and extending down towards her. "I knew you wanted me bad, but this'll get you killed."

"Well, I like the difficult ones," he smirked, aware that McRae tended to diffuse her anxieties with humour. He had the same trait himself. "Besides, sergeants everywhere will weep if anything were to happen to their poster girl for unattainable."

Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Merrick reached down as far as he could. The nearest he could reach for her was her wrist and only with one hand. Grabbing hold of a railing with his other and offering a prayer to the God of Plain Dumb Luck, Merrick locked his hand around her wrist and heaved.

Sloane immediately let go of the piece of metal she had been hanging on to as to not hinder him. She gratefully felt herself lifted up, but she also felt the walkway shifting. She did not want to take him down with her. No fucking way. "Merrick," she let out, the dread she tried to push away colouring her tone anyway.

It was slipping, he could feel it shifting subtlety beneath him. Groans in the metal structure could be heard, low reverberating sound that must have surely carried to McRae. Putting his back into it, he was grinding his teeth in order to pull her up with just the one hand. His arm felt as if it were ready to pop out of its socket and he didn't want to imagine what McRae must be going through. "Almost there..." he grunted.

Closing his eyes, he sucked in a strained breath as he inched further away from the edge and opened them when he saw her coming close enough for him to let go of the railing. It was dangerous but if they didn't get off this edge soon, it was going to go over.

Her hand grabbed his forearm as she found purchase with her uninjured leg to propel herself up and over the edge. "Whoa... stop, stop!" she cried out. The piece of metal had once again stopped her dead, jamming underneath the platform. In Merrick's hold, she rolled on her back, one knee bent on the edge and the other leg still dangling overboard. Trying to catch her breath, she looked at Merrick's face above hers. "Fuck," she cursed again. "Help me move this... damn..." she said, referring to her leg. "Next time I tell you I'm going for body piercing, don't let me get something that fucking big."

"Well that buggers the nipple ring I was going to get you for Christmas then," he grinned as he inched further past her body and gently moved the steel protrusion past the edge so that he could pull her the rest of the way up. It took some manipulation considering the size of it and he estimated McRae was going to be left with a decent scar when this was done. "Okay," he said manipulating her leg over the edge. "It's okay, it's handled."

Biting on the pain shooting up and down her leg and pulling at her hip, Sloane clenched her eyes shut, breathing hard. She was willing herself to relax, knowing that tensing up wasn't helping anything, but she was doing a rather poor job of it. And then, when Tom let go of her leg, she felt a wave of warmth covering her, darkness edging forth on her consciousness. Oh, yeah. She could do with a bit of rest.

"Hey!" Merrick saw her starting to slip away, she was going into shock. He scrambled up the length of her away from her injured leg and started pulling her off the edge of the walkway. Once they were standing on a steadier section of the platform, he pulled her arm over his shoulder and picked her up. "McRae! Wake the fuck up! What do you think this is, a fucking walk through the park? Open your eyes soldier! Now!"

"Fuck you, Merrick," she replied in a slur, blinking her eyes rapidly, trying to fight the dizziness. "Aw, hell," she groaned as Merrick lifted her to an upright position and she found her footing. "Hang on..." She fought a violent wave of nausea before she nodded to him, feeling a sticky wetness running down her injured leg. "I'm bleeding and it ain't that fucking time of the month!" she told him as she glanced at her leg and the metal rod sticking out at the front, bits of the suit fabric stuck on the jagged edge. She wavered. "Cute..."

"You should write children's books, McRae," Merrick retorted as he hurried them off the walkway. He could hear the metal fatigue growing more and more strained, if they made it across they would be lucky. He could see an alternate service hatch through the smoke and darkness and knew that it was their only chance. It wasn't hard to notice the subtle shifts beneath his foot which each step. "We're almost across, McRae. We're almost across."

Hopping on her good leg, McRae tried to keep pace with Merrick's brisk walk. When they made it to the hatch, she was heavily leaning on him, sweat covering her brow and upper lip.

She was just about done, Merrick realised when they arrived at the service hatch. She couldn't go much more and if the wound was anywhere near the femoral all this blood on him was going to cost her dearly. She couldn't aggravate the leg any further. Leaning down, he scooped her up in his arms and added with a wry smile, "Doesn't mean we're engaged or anything."

"Christ," she let out through gritted teeth, his moves jarring her leg and the damn thing stuck inside it. "Through good and bad times, mate..." she said, finishing on a whimper. Merrick moved them through the hatch and on more solid ground beyond.

"Something like that," he laughed and then continued onward.

*****

"We're almost done," Tucker replied after receiving the report that the cargo was safely transported aboard. "We got the cargo and the MACOs have found the crew. They're getting up now from the lower levels."

"This bloody storm is getting worse," Malcolm commented. He was watching the readings increase in magnitude. "Who knows where those Xindi are? Probably hiding nearby."

"They don't hide Malcolm," Tucker said thinly. "They don't have any reason to."

Malcolm hit the comm.

"Reed to Lt. Chan."

A moment later Chan responded, "Chan here."

"Lt. Chan, assemble a team and have them ready to assist the MACO should they require assistance."

"Aye sir," Chan replied.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. Reed out."

Hearing Malcolm, Hayes dismissed himself from the Bridge. "Call me on the comms if you need me." He held back the sarcasm, keeping his face dead pan to the senior Fleet officers. 'If they work,' he had to add silently in his mind. On his own, he broke into a sprint down the long hallway and hoofed along the fastest foot path between decks to get down to the loading dock. His men had suffered enough blind, alone and personally, Gabriel would be there to get them out. Technology keeping him from supporting the MACOs in a proper manner, so he'd do it the old fashion way. Manually.

Seeing some of his men already out, Hayes patted their shoulder, checking out their conditions and alert. "Get on the ship!" He barked out the order, forcing them to stay focused and move on ahead. The Lt. Colonel pressed on, doing a head count comparison verses the numbers he was getting. The rescued were amongst the crossing flood and he had to concentrate to make sure he was tagging only his ship. Grabbing a hold of an exhausted private, he turned and assisted the youth towards the door. "Come on, soldier! Almost there." More passed and Gabe added them to the count. Wait. Had he missed a few? Numbers weren't matching up and no one else was coming out. A few MACOs hung back and to them the Lt. Colonel quickly approached a First. "Lieutenant, what's your head count?"

The man began rattling off names from mission nerves, and Gabriel cut him off. "A number Lieutenant. Not a roster." The young soldier gave him a number, off by one of his own head count on the way in. "Who's not here?" He knew who, but it wouldn't do for Hayes to say it. Turning his gaze towards the empty entrance, the Lt. Colonel had to hold back his tongue for he was about to cuss a blue streak hearing about his Captain and Major.

They were still in there.

*****

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