Jon watched as a shocked expression crossed Malcolm's face as the tactical officer read the message. Admiral Forrest had been sketchy and had simply stated it was a need-to-know basis. He hated that phrase, but knew the admiral wouldn't divulge anything else.

Malcolm continued to scroll through the message and sighed, putting the PADD under his arm. "Sir, I have reason to believe I have endangered the crew and respectfully resign my commission, effective immediately."

"Request denied," Jon stated plainly, motioning for Malcolm to sit down and not taking no for an answer this time. "You care to explain this…sudden decision?"

He could see Malcolm mentally weighing his options and waited patiently for the other man to confide in him.

Sitting down, Malcolm started to speak. "First off, sir, there are parts of my service record that are fabricated," he mumbled, not really sure where to start.

Seeing the younger man's obvious discomfort, Jon nodded, already knowing which parts Malcolm referred to. "Just take your time, Malcolm."

"A-actually, that's not quite accurate, sir. There are some things that were…erased from my record…confidential matters…matters that – "

"Your time in Starfleet Intelligence?" Jon guessed, trying not to lead the conversation, yet trying to encourage the Brit to talk to him. "Your last mission?"

"Yes," replied Malcolm succinctly. "On my last mission, I infiltrated a special ops division –"

"The Sieren's Division," Jon stated helpfully, letting Malcolm know there were some things he already knew.

Eying his superior officer warily, Malcolm continued as though his captain knew everything. After all, the man had a right to know. "I have enemies in high places and one of them has gone to ground."

"Who?"

Placing the PADD on the desk, Malcolm slid it toward Jon.

Jon perused the information quickly. "What makes you think Bryant is coming after you?" he asked, unaware of the full extent of Malcolm's role in the admiral's unexpected resignation.

"You read the report," Malcolm stated dryly. "Bryant was under surveillance and he disappeared. The only trace was a transporter signal. They couldn't trace it. He obviously had some help. Even though my investigation was inconclusive, he was implicated and resigned before a full inquiry could be completed."

"So you're going to run?" Jon questioned, knowingly baiting him and unprepared for Malcolm's icy gaze.

"No, sir. I plan to find him."

"And do what exactly?" Jon countered.

"I don't know," Malcolm replied softly, realizing the captain already knew the answer. He was going to kill him.

"I will not accept your resignation, Malcolm. The Orion conference is in two days. Starfleet has requested our presence for the ECS talks and I need security down there. There's no one better qualified to provide it."

--

Darkness contained him, alluding to the fanciful concept of sleep and taunting him during the twilight hours. He chuckled as the irony seeped into his reasoning. The sun didn't rise or set on a starship. Malcolm was staring into his self-imposed solitude, listening to his demons whisper their fateful plans.

There were four of them – Archer and Forrest, Bryant, and Hoshi.

Archer wasn't as dim-witted as he had originally thought. Prepared to go over his head, Malcolm had contacted Admiral Forrest to submit his resignation. Archer had beaten him to Forrest, promising the admiral that he would not let his armory officer go without a fight.

"I'm sorry, Malcolm. But I have to agree with Captain Archer's decision. I sent the message to you so you could watch your back. If I had known – "

"That's just it, sir. How am I supposed to watch my back and – "

"We haven't abandoned you, Malcolm. I have operatives investigating several leads right now. We'll find Bryant, and when we do, we'll deal with him. He won't be able to circumvent the system this time." The admiral's voice was firm, yet supportive.

"With respect, Admiral, your operatives are probably doing more harm than good. The leads are dead ends and triggering all sorts of sniffers. Bryant is aware of them and will continue to elude them. I know him. He taught me everything I know. I recommend you accept my resignation so I may join the search."

The admiral's refusal had been quick and succinct, and any hope Malcolm had had quickly diminished.

Cursing softly in the darkness, he thought of his old mentor, Gregory Bryant, and the last conversation they'd had.

The elevator door opened and Malcolm hesitated as Bryant stared back at him. Malcolm nodded slowly and got on the elevator, refusing to be intimidated.

As soon as the doors closed, Gregory spoke. "It's too bad about Mukai. She could've made your investigation. But the damage has been done, regardless. The circumstantial evidence you presented was damning enough to ruin my reputation," he stated.

Malcolm remained silent.

The other man scoffed. "I've worked all my life and I have nothing to show for it, but then, you don't either."

Somehow, Malcolm resisted the urge to punch his lights out.

The door opened and Bryant walked out. "Sorry about the death of your sister." If he said anything else, his words were cut off as the door shut.

A seed of doubt had been planted in his mind and that's when Malcolm had insisted on reopening Madeline's case. He should have known Bryant was talking out of his ass.

Classic intimidation – threaten the ones you love.

Malcolm rolled over and switched on the light, reaching for the PADD. He pulled up the familiar file and stared at Hoshi's picture.

How the hell was he going to push her away again? If the captain hadn't called, he would have taken her standing in the armory. The memory of her taste and smell aroused him and he tossed the PADD onto the ledge.

Tossing his feet over the edge of his bed, Malcolm got up. He was never going to get to sleep now.

--

Her eyes grew heavy, the effects of the Phlox's sedative growing stronger. Even drugged, she fought sleep. It should be a simple matter of closing your eyes and entering a stage of idyllic darkness, but she knew she would dream tonight.

It didn't matter whether her eyes were opened or closed, Hoshi could still hear the question she never did answer – "What are you doing?"

It wasn't really the question. It was the dangerous tone in which he had asked it. She had looked into his eyes – that split second before she closed her eyes, realizing the kiss is what she had wanted.

She had gotten what she had wanted and probably would have gotten more if Captain Archer hadn't called. Did she want more, though? His azure eyes were…soulless…as though he had already damned himself to hell.

Sleep claimed her thoughts and carried them into her dreams.