The BLTS Archive - Paradise Perfect
by Sue Duenn (sduenn@optonline.net)

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Archive: Permission to archive granted to EntSTCommunity and anyone
else who may want it, just tell me where it's going!

Beta: None - all problems are mine and mine alone

Spoilers: none

Disclaimer: You know the drill - they're not mine, I'm not getting
paid, and trust me, it's not worth it to sue me.

Author's notes: If you can't tell by reading this, I've had one heck
of a day.  Instead of harming myself or others, I took it out on the
boys.  This may not make you happy, but I'm not manic anymore, so it's
done some semblance of good.  May you never have the emotions that
brought on this fic

---

Trip looked longingly out the window of the shuttlepod as Jon piloted
them back to Enterprise. They were leaving a quarter of the crew on
the paradise planet below for shore leave while the rest of them went
one system over to play diplomat. He couldn't help but smile at
Malcolm's scowl as they left; they both begged, whined and cajoled Jon
to allow them to switch places. Unfortunately, the neighbors wanted to
learn about the human's engine, so Trip had to go. Jon did promise
they could stay a few extra days so the entire crew could enjoy the
planet though, so Trip was mollified somewhat.

They banked over a secluded lagoon, and Trip marked the coordinates
down so he could take Jon there when they got back. The teal green
water lapping up on the ecru beach looked like the perfect place for
him to finally do it and propose to his best friend and lover. After
they got back, of course. It was so nice of the Hanians to have
suggested this respite; he'd have to remember to thank them after he
gave his lecture on the warp five engine.

---

Three days later, more than ready for some R&R, Jon again piloted a
shuttlecraft down to the surface, filled with other crewmates just as
excited for leave as he was. Trip sat in the copilot's seat, the back
bench seats filled with the people lucky enough to draw the first pod
down to the surface. The shuttle hummed with excitement and people
making plans for their time on the planet.

"Cap'n, you see what I'm seein'," Trip asked under his breath,
pointing out the absolute lack of human biosigns on the planet. "We
should be close enough now for the pyrite to not interfere with our
sensors anymore. There should be twenty people down there."

Jon frowned and checked the scans himself. "You're right. It's hard
for me to think they've all gone somewhere." He tapped a few buttons
on the helm and said, "I'm going into a very low orbit. I want you to
scan for them. Tell me if you find anything."

When the shuttle didn't land as quickly as anticipated, the rest of
the crew quickly understood something was wrong. Cutler slid into the
science station behind Trip and fired up the console. She noticed
Crewman James taking the last console and knew he was configuring it
for engineering, his specialty. It didn't take long for them to
realize what they were looking for. Therefore, it didn't come as a
surprise when Jon began giving tense commands

"Liz, tweak the sensors for human biosigns. Isaac, do what you can to
clear up the interference from the pyrite. Trip, start scanning for
any wavelength they might be using to contact us. The rest of you
please stay calm. We'll find our people. Just in case, I want you to
prepare some backpacks with basic rations and equipment in case we
have to go find them on foot."

The mood had dramatically changed. No one was excitedly discussing
vacation plans. They all felt their stomachs drop, knowing that
wherever their crewmates were, it wasn't good.

"I think I've got somethin'," Trip said, leaning into the
communication's earpiece as if that would amplify the sounds emanating
from it. The shuttle crew held their breath as Trip listened hard.
"Yeah! I've got it. It's Morse code, set on repeat." He concentrated
hard, typing the dots and dashes into his console. "Oh, why can't
Hoshi be here?"

Jon linked helm to the faint signal, drawing them closer to the
source. He landed in a clearing on the continent opposite to the one
they had left their crewmates on. He pointed to a large cave opening.
"I'm getting the signal from in there. Trip, what does the message
say?"

Keying in the command to translate, Trip blanched, silently handing
the PADD to his Captain. "We're not gonna listen to that, are we,
Cap'n?"

"No," Jon said, emotion choking him. He looked at the junior officers
who had all crowded into the front of the shuttle to hear what had
happened, and cleared his throat. "Um, the message says that we're to
turn away and not come any farther, that our only hope at survival is
to leave now and to exit this system and never come back." He sighed.
"At least that's my interpretation of it. We know it could only be one
of our people to write that, but I can't help but think maybe they
were under duress when they recorded it." He looked at his people then
nodded. "Trip, Liz, James, you're with me. I want the rest of you to
stay on high alert at the shuttle. If we re not back here in an hour,
go back to Enterprise and get the hell out of here." He looked at the
highest-ranking person left; an Ensign. "Smith, you re in charge of
this away team, and you have your orders. While we're gone, appraise
T'Pol of what's going on. We'll be back in less than an hour."

---

Cautiously, with scanners open, they entered the cave system. With one
turn, they lost contact with the rest of the shuttle crew, both on
scanners and with communicators. "I've got them, sir," James said as
they rounded one last turn. He pointed in front of him and said, "I'm
reading twenty-two human biosigns approximately fifty feet ahead."

Their flashlights didn't penetrate the gloom more than three feet
before them though the air was remarkably clear of debris. Moving
silently forward, they barely heard the whisper, "Captain ... no ...
go ... back ... now..."

"Malcolm?" Jon asked. "We're gonna get you out of here."

The Brit's sigh could be felt as well as heard. This wasn't the first
time Jonathan Archer had done the exact opposite of what the Armory
Officer suggested.

"Mal, you know we're gonna get you out," Trip said, "so just go with
it, huh? Oh shit."

The four flashlights had hit the nearest target at the same time.
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed hung suspended from the ceiling, loops of his
own intestine holding him a foot off the ground. Where his eyes had
been, only open sockets showed now, the eyelids having been removed as
well.

Liz found her voice first, "How ..?" She had seen the absolute
intricacy of the surgery that had been performed on the lieutenant.
His testicles had been flayed open, the seminiferous tubules carefully
unwound to hold his penis up in a gross parody of the sexual act via
several loops over the man s shoulders.

Jon's dismayed eyes roamed the cavern as he moved, identifying each of
his crewmen. Every last one of them had been flayed open in different
ways, clean cuts were used, no blood lost. Each man and woman was
alive, most certainly not what one would call living. The horror of
what he saw before him almost overcame him, but he managed to say,
"Liz, you and Isaac get back to the shuttle. I need Phlox down here,
NOW."

---

Three of the twenty-two retained enough mental and physical function
to not be euthanized immediately by Phlox in the cave. Malcolm Reed,
Michael Rostov and Roniya Zaman were the only ones to make it to
sickbay. Phlox repaired all he could, but they all had severe damage
to their digestive tracts from being hung by their intestines. None
were able to take nourishment except intravenously. Malcolm would
never see again due to the loss of his eyes, Rostov would never hear
again due to the rupture and mutilation of his ears, and Hoshi would
never again speak due to the complete removal of her tongue.

---

Silently, the men entered their home and loosened the collars of their
dress uniforms.  When the doors to the outside world shut, they turned
to each other and rested their head on the other's shoulder, arms
wrapping tightly about one another.  They had just returned from the
second worst day of their lives.

The review board demanded details of the atrocities the Hanians had
committed.  Had wanted to know every thought and motion during the
three days the crew had left a quarter of their ranks to perish.  The
board had questioned and drilled them with the same questions they had
asked themselves every moment of every day since they'd found their
friends strung up by their own innards.  Why did you leave them?  Why
didn't you stay?  What could you have done differently?

Neither Jon nor Trip knew.  All they knew was that they had each
other, and that would have to do.

---

The End