A/N: I'm back, with another update for y'all! Thanks to Volley (Hope you have a really great holiday! This'll be finished by the time you get back, and I might even have some of my next fic up! Enjoy your break!), The Libran Iniquity (Sounds like you're having fun - enjoy the next chapter!) JennMel (At this point who doesn't want to kill Stuart? Lol!) and Exploded Pen (This chapter is dedicated entirely to you, so I don't get my head in my hands to play with for not updating!) Thanks also to Exploded Pen for the colourful description of what to do to Stuart...I wish I'd thought of that. I just hope you're not disappointed with what actually happens in the end!

Disclaimer: If only I owned them...but I don't. How depressing...

Chapter Five

Malcolm Reed sat alone in his quarters. It had been several days since the attack. They were back on course for Vulcan, and the repairs were still underway, although the worst of the damage had been fixed. The skin on his hands, where the console had burned him, still felt tight from Phlox's Osmotic Eel's ministrations, but the skin was healed and amazingly blemish free. The bruises to his face and chest were also fading, thankfully; and the best news was that Trip had also made a full recovery, for which he was grateful.

He glanced up at a strange scraping noise coming from the wall, and then dismissed it. There were engineers crawling all over the ship, doing repairs in the Jeffries tubes. That was, until the power grid fluctuated, the lights flickered, and the gravity cut out.

With a startled yelp, he found himself floating in the air. He drifted towards the door, and opened it. The phenomenon was not confined to his room; two crewmen out in the corridor were looking no less surprised.

"Stay here," Reed told them, and, by pushing against the wall, made it to the nearest communications panel, "Lt. Reed to engineering. What's going on?"

"We're trying to work it out," Trip sounded exasperated; no doubt he'd received dozens of similar calls already, "gravity's down all over the ship. We're working on it."

Reed shut down the link, and, through a process of bouncing off the walls, worked his way over to a turbo lift. He headed down to the shuttle bay, where he was able to acquire a pair of magnetic boots. Slipping them on and activating them, he was able to walk normally again, although with some effort due to the powerful magnetism. He was just heading to the bridge when he heard it. Weapons fire.

---

Hogan and Archer were sharing a meal in the mess hall when the gravity went offline, which caused a whole lot of mess and a few nasty scalds for an ensign unfortunate enough to have ordered a bowl of soup.

"Archer to engineering! Trip, gravity just went down in the mess hall. What's going on?"

"I don't know, cap'n! It's happened all over the ship. It's like someone just flicked a switch! We're working on it, Jon."

"Work fast, Trip. Archer out."

It was just as he shut down the channel that Archer heard the first shout of alarm. He tried to turn around, floating weightlessly. He saw a flash of blue, every nerve screamed in pain, and then he lost consciousness.

---

Archer awoke slowly, his head pounding. Someone was shaking his shoulder incessantly, occasionally slapping his face gently for good measure. He groaned, and the contact ceased.

"Thank God you're awake," said a voice, somewhere in the vicinity of above him, "do you want the good news or the bloody awful news?"

Archer sat up carefully, nursing his head. At least the gravity was back on.

"What's the good news?"

"The gravity's back on."

Archer looked at Hogan with an expression of 'well, duh'.

"What's the bad news?" he asked, as she pulled him to his feet.

"We're prisoners," she replied, gesturing to the door, "a blue skinned alien with weird antennae came in here and told us so, right before he locked the door. One of your crew said he was an Andorian."

"Why would the Andorians take us prisoner?" Archer wondered.

"He was with another alien," Hogan added, "Something called a…Hang-on? Cling-on?"

"Klingon," Archer corrected her, "that's weird. An Andorian and a Klingon together? Are you sure?"

"I don't think they were official," Hogan shrugged, "no proper uniforms. Space Pirates?"

"Well, we've seen weirder. We need to find a way out of here…"

---

"Report," the Andorian snapped, from where he sat in the captain's chair of the bridge.

"I've altered course towards the co-ordinates you gave me," Travis said, sullenly.

He had a black eye, a split lip and a Klingon aiming a blaster at his head, so for now, he was co-operating. T'Pol had been stunned and locked in the captain's ready room; Hoshi was sitting at her console looking petrified. The Andorian nodded slowly, his antennae flexing as he moved. He pressed a button on the arm of the chair.

"Engineering, report."

"Most of the damage we inflicted has already been repaired," The Ssas's translator managed to convey a tone of grudging respect, "they worked fast. I have gravity back online and the warp drive is fit to use. I will continue repairs; our buyers will be satisfied."

"Excellent. The crew?"

"Several escaped our first sweep. We will round them up."

"Agreed," the Andorian nodded, "carry on."

He nodded to the Klingon, who growled and left the bridge. It was time to go hunting.

---

Reed had ducked out of the way just as a Suliban came striding around the corner, dressed in odd-looking black armour, wearing magnetic boots. He carried a strange weapon, and the minute he walked passed he would see Reed. The element of surprise…the lieutenant waited a moment longer, praying he would be a match for any genetic modifications…and lunged.

The Suliban let out a yelp of surprise, as Reed grabbed his arm, twisted the weapon out of his grip, and put him in a swift arm lock. When the alien didn't wriggle free, he assumed correctly that this particular Suliban had no genetic enhancements.

"Who are you and what are you doing on this ship?" Reed demanded.

The Suliban shook his head, and Reed tightened his grip, eliciting a groan of pain.

"N-not my f-fault," the Suliban stammered, "f-forced. P-please…"

"Why are you on Enterprise?" Reed pressed, glancing around to make sure there were no others.

"To steal your ship…please don't kill me…"

With a heavy thump to the back of the alien's skull, Reed dropped him into unconsciousness. Slinging him over his shoulder, he retrieved the Suliban's fallen weapon, and leaned around the corner. There was no one there, but several of the crew quarters had been sealed shut from the outside. He tried to unlock them, but the doors were encoded, so Reed took the Suliban down to the brig and locked him in, checking out a phase pistol.

With a sudden lurch, gravity was restored, and Reed slipped out of the gravity boots in relief, hiding them in a storage locker. He wondered if he should contact the bridge, and decided against it. If the ship had been compromised, anyone could be on the bridge and he could walk right into a trap…he had to think for himself, find out if any of the crew were still free. He called to mind the schematics of the ship…the Jeffries tubes…he found the nearest access hatch, and, with a quick glance over his shoulder, disappeared inside it.