Chapter Six

Memories clawed through her foggy brain, bringing with them the sharp recollection of jabbing pain. She remembered seeing the colors of the world fade into a pinpoint until there was nothing but a deep well of blackness. Yet, in the murky borders of her consciousness, she was aware of the sound of someone's breath, coming to a strangled halt as her lips touched the lips of another. Then there was nothing. Nothing until the pinpoint reappeared, expanding into the dimmed panorama of her room.

Hoshi was awake. Her heart rioted as she realized the hands around her neck were the same ones that had rendered her unconscious. How he could have not heard the clamoring within her ribs, she didn't know. As it turned out she didn't have much time to think about it.

The fingers drew away, but his eyes locked upon her open ones with astonishment.

Without another moment's hesitation, she rammed her angled elbow into his left temple. He was caught off guard, it was obvious from the rough tumble he took. Nonetheless, he was already up on his feet before Hoshi could leap away from the bed. Her defensive position didn't matter, she mused grimly, not when she was pointing his phase pistol at him.

"Give me one reason not to blow your head off!" Her entire body was shaking, down to the tips of her hair, but her voice was vehemently steady.

She might as well have been threatening him with a spatula. He was utterly unaffected by her declaration. "Ensign, I suggest you put your weapon down."

An aborted laugh escaped from her lips. She struggled to breathe deeply, feeling the force of hysteria hammering in her throat. Still, she managed a rebellious, "Or what, Lieutenant?"

The doorbell chose that moment to chime, her untrained reaction giving Malcolm the opportunity. He leapt at her, and before her finger could make contact with the trigger, she was already flat on her back, her empty hand cooling with sweat.

The chime echoed again. He didn't lower the weapon that was now pointed at her.

"Ensign Sato?"

It was Phlox. There was a calculating element in Malcolm's silence, and for some reason, Hoshi felt the presence of Phlox wasn't the part of the equation Malcolm was trying to solve.

"Lieutenant Reed?"

Hoshi felt her lips curve with a quiver--Phlox knew that Malcolm was in here with her. The feeling of safety was fleeting as Malcolm finally came into action and yanked her out of bed, tossing her against the wall. The possibility that Phlox might not be much of a deterrent to Malcolm's malignant plans sent her on a blind rampage as he closed in on her.

She struggled helplessly as Malcolm disabled her body from further movements. Her eyes bored straight into the space ahead as he leaned in.

"Thirty-one," he mouthed against the shell of her ear.

She froze, the previous frenzied kinetics halting like flesh against brick.

Then he stepped away from her to open the door for Phlox.

"Dr. Phlox, I think Ensign Sato might need your assistance." Malcolm gestured at Hoshi's disheveled form. He pivoted slowly as the physician approached her, positioning himself behind Phlox.

He remained standing behind them, regarding her with an icy gaze. His index finger lingered on the trigger, undoubtedly heating the cool metal. His hand was a fist around the deadly weapon, and though his arm remained down and flat against his torso, she knew she wouldn't be able to do very much if he did raise the arm with the intention to kill. And all that stopped him from doing so was her confirmation. He was waiting. Hoshi didn't doubt he would kill Phlox and her if it came to that.

She placed her right hand on the floor and tapped out her designation in Morse, giving him the confirmation he needed. In her mind, she saw the sequence and hoped she didn't fuck up the ridiculously simple code that she'd mastered at the tender age of two.

He raised his arm to level the pistol at them.

Wrong, wrong, she'd done it wrong, fourteen wasn't even prime. Surely he couldn't expect perfection from someone who'd been unconscious just a minute ago. The barrel of his weapon said otherwise.

"Thirteen," she blurted out.

The grip relaxed.

The Denobulan pouted in confusion. One could always tell his emotions by the shape of his mouth. "I beg your pardon, Ensign?"

"Thirsty, I'm thirsty."

Phlox tilted his head curiously at the linguist's proposed slip but conceded.

"Yes, you're mildly dehydrated. Perhaps Lieutenant Reed would be kind enough to get you some water?"

Hoshi didn't think kindness was on his agenda at the moment.

"Of course." Malcolm walked over to her desk. Her eyes trailed his movements, but could not see through his back as he poured. Her heart drummed along with his footsteps as he approached them.

"Is she well, Doctor?" he asked the physician, paying her no mind as he dropped off the glass in the general direction of her hands.

She regarded the water with wariness, but reached out in time to prevent it from falling onto the tangled sheets.

"It seems there's some slight swelling in the prefrontal cortex, but nothing serious. I believe it's returning to normal as we speak."

The medical scanner came to a stop above the rim of her drink, throwing the austere blue light into the liquid. The glass was still untouched. The curious sliver glint in the eyes of the alien doctor returned in full force.

The crooked curve of Malcolm lips told her he was amused by her hesitance.

Fueled by indignation, Hoshi took a giant swallow, turning to give the lieutenant the nastiest look she could manage. But his cool eyes were already riveted on hers as she lowered the glass. She managed not to choke.

His expression remained neutral, but she heard the smile in his voice. "Were you attacked, Hoshi?"

"No, I had a nightmare. I think I tripped over my sheets and hit my head, that's all," she replied stiffly, glaring pointedly at the armory officer. "I'm sorry to have caused such a panic."

"No panic. The captain was merely concerned when you were late for duty. Doctor, if there's nothing else..." The tone of his accented nonchalance grated and she had a feeling he knew it would.

"You may return to the bridge, Lieutenant, I can handle things from here."

"Doctor." Malcolm nodded deference before stepping out of the room.

Hoshi tuned out Phlox's chatter as he administered something into her neck. She thought she had escaped the agency's constant control and manipulation. Their threats of exposing her had faded with her tenure on the Enterprise, and she could even pretend that her duties to the agency were just something extra she did for Starfleet. But now another one of them was here. She glanced at the phase pistol he had quietly left on her table, the titanium glinting in the artificial light.

Malcolm Reed was a dangerous man.