Disclaimer: see Chapter 1.

Chapter 13

Malcolm had had enough of sitting still, brooding on the uneven odds. He needed to kick-start his brain into gear again, and the best way to do that was to wear out the deckplating. He jumped up from the chair and started pacing, happily ignoring Archer's pointed looks. That was one good thing about his current situation in Starfleet. There wasn't much more he could do that would land him in any deeper trouble. Not pandering to Archer's sensibilities - quite the opposite, in fact - was proving quite rewarding in its own way. Pandering! He snorted. Bailey would be highly amused by that particular phrasing.

Archer gave a small sigh of exasperation, but wasn't foolish enough to get into another confrontation. He tried a different approach - distraction. "Let's run through it again. Perhaps we can find something we've missed."

"Okay." Malcolm slowed but didn't stop.

"The Klingons want me, the forcefield apparatus and you."

Malcolm frowned in concentration. "Possibly me. I think you are the one they really want. They grabbed you first. I think I was just an afterthought."

"Yeah. You may be right. Their initial demands were for me to give myself over to them - that was all - otherwise they would destroy Enterprise. If I agreed to go with them, they said would leave without causing more damage." Archer's head dropped for a moment. "We didn't have a choice - we were vulnerable docked with the Facility."

Malcolm snorted at that bit of idiocy.

Archer said defensively, "Yeah, well, that was a judgement call. It was the easiest way to move that alien in stasis to Enterprise and recover his craft." He grimaced. "I don't know how much time we've got before the Klingons start to make good their threats. I reckon we've got some leeway - they won't want to destroy what they've come to get."

"Yes. That's my take on it, too. Not long, though - Klingons don't strike me as being the most patient of species."

Archer prodded gently at his swollen lip and tilted his head towards Malcolm. "I'm sorry you got dragged into this. The Klingons were after me and saw you as a bonus, I think."

Malcolm stopped pacing. "How did the Klingons know who I was?"

"What?"

"They knew who I was - just grabbed me out of everyone left in the mess hall."

"Well, it seems they knew you were in this sector. Perhaps they ID'ed you from your picture?"

Malcolm considered this suggestion. "Possibly, but it wasn't included in my published research paper. And the Klingons would know I'd left Starfleet if they read it - it said so in the brief biography. Why would they look for me in uniform?"

"I don't know. But what does that matter now?"

"Yes. You're right." Malcolm resumed his endless marching once more. "So, we know what they want, and we know we'll have to be quick - they have the threat to Enterprise to make us behave."

"Enterprise, the Facility, the mining vessels," intoned Archer.

Malcolm twisted his mouth in frustration. The Klingons held all the cards. "What mining vessels are at risk? How many?"

"Too many," said Archer grimly. "I don't know which ones. They were ordered to hold position. Otherwise the Klingons said they will destroy them."

"Damn." Malcolm gave up pacing and sat down. The Klingon restraints on his wrists were heavy and he was sick of lugging them around. He rested his tired arms on the desk. It was bad enough having Enterprise facing the Klingon threat, but for the miners to be caught up in it, also - that made it ten times worse. They weren't warships! They carried a single pulse cannon, two at most, and low-powered at that. Frustrated, he smacked the restraints down hard on the table top, ignoring the shooting pain that induced. In front of him, the terminal's display flickered into life in answer to the jarring. Malcolm gazed at the station logo, thinking about the Mariposa and the other ships he had crewed on since he had arrived at the Facility. Which of them were endangered by the Klingons?

"Damn," he said again, faintly. He turned to Archer, blinking rapidly and hardly believing it. "You know - I think I've had an idea."

"Oh?" Archer didn't sound very excited.

Malcolm's face became animated as he thought it through. "This terminal is active. It's a stationwide network, but it also gives short-range comm access to vessels docked at the Facility or nearby. We can find out exactly who is out there." He looked at Archer, searching for his reaction to this revelation.

Archer pulled a discouraging face. "The Klingons would detect any transmissions."

"Uh huh. No they won't. Not if we're careful. This is a highly directional system - narrow, confined beams so it can work at low power. We can contact the miners and get them to fight back."

Archer frowned. "I didn't think any of the mining vessels were armed?"

"Not as such, no. Not any real offensive capabilities. But - we use what little they do have to work together, and that gives us a single, highly distributed weapons array!" Malcolm broke into a broad grin. "The Klingons won't know which one to deal with first, and, in the meantime, if all goes well, they'll have been hit from every direction virtually simultaneously." He gazed in stunned amazement at Archer, taken aback by his own vision.

Archer stared at him, his mind processing the proposal. Then he said, "We need to find out if there are enough ships out there. I know the Mariposa is around because I just spoke to Gomez. I've no idea about the rest."

"The Mariposa! Excellent!" said Malcolm, turning to the terminal.

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Malcolm's attention was locked on the terminal's display. "The Klingons are spread too thinly to monitor everything," he muttered, trying to reassure himself. As he finished speaking, the 'connect' symbol flashed up. "Got it!" he exclaimed triumphantly, with an excited glance at Archer.

"So far, so good," Archer said, with a raised eyebrow at Malcolm as if to rein in any rash hopes.

Malcolm shook off Archer's dampening attitude. Yes, it was a long shot but he had a good feeling about this, providing they could persuade the miners. Tactically-speaking, it was a good plan. The connect symbol was replaced by another image - that of Bailey.

"Pan! Where are you?" Bailey's usually genial face had been transformed into one of conspicuous anxiety.

"On the Facility," replied Malcolm. "We've given the Klingons the slip - for now."

"We?" queried Bailey.

"Me and Captain Archer," said Malcolm, leaning to one side so Bailey could see his companion. Archer gave a flourish of his hands.

"Uhh. What happened? What's going on?"

"There's no time to go into that now. Is Red there?"

Bailey's eyes opened wide and the colour left his face. "No! No, he's not! I thought he was on Enterprise with you - or with Archer, there, anyway. He was going to do something about how they were treating you."

Malcolm bit his lip. Gomez had not been amongst the crew crowded into the mess hall. That was very worrying. He recalled the sight of the silent crewman lying dead outside the brig with his innards shot through. Had that been Gomez' fate also? He met Bailey's horrified gaze with his own unsteady one. There was no time now to think about it. He seamlessly converted into operational mode, resolving to deal with Gomez later.

Malcolm straightened up. "Are you in communication with the other mining ships, Mot?"

Bailey didn't answer. His mind was still on his friend, it would seem.

Malcolm spoke more firmly. "Mot. We might be able to do something about the Klingons, but we need to combine our actions."

"What? What do you want to do?" Bailey's eyes regained their focus as he turned his concentration on Malcolm.

"If we can somehow slave together the cannon outputs on some of the ships so they work simultaneously, we might be able to hit the Klingon ship where it will hurt - try to force them to withdraw. Which mining vessels are placed so they can targetthe Klingons?"

Bailey nodded his understanding. "Uhh, let's see." He glanced across at something. Malcolm knew he was pulling up a status display that would give positional information. "Besides the Mariposa, there's the Drunken Duck, Astral Runner, Skylark and Mombassa. They're all in positions where they could get at the Klingons. Possibly the Katrina also, if she 'accidentally' drifts a bit. Would that be enough? I'm transmitting the info to you now."

Malcolm performed some rapid mental calculations. Some time ago, he had carried out modifications on the Mariposa's cannon to increase its output, and he knew the 'Duck' had a dual system. If they could involve all the ships Bailey had listed, that should be enough and give them a useful margin. However, if any of them declined, then they could be in trouble.

"Yeah, Mot. That should do the trick. We'll need everyone to agree, though. Can you talk to them? Short range, highly directional ship-to-ship should be virtually undetectable."

Bailey nodded. "Yeah. Leave it with me."

Malcolm needed to say more. "Look, Mot. There is a risk involved. If it doesn't come off - and there is a chance it won't - the Klingons might turn on the mining ships, too. They've got much greater firepower than you and are more manoeuvrable. They would probably be able to take everyone out."

Not surprisingly, that prospect disturbed Bailey, judging by his unsettled reaction. He swallowed and said, "What happens if we don't do anything? Leave the Klingons alone?"

Malcolm said, "I don't know. Odds are they'll leave with what they came for - once they find it. Perhaps they might shoot up Enterprise as well, and the Facility, but then that would invite retaliation. My bet is they'll leave it all in one piece - including your ships."

"And they've come for…?"

Malcolm glanced at Archer. "Captain Archer, my forcefield apparatus if they can disable the field in time and-" He snapped his mouth shut. This had to be decided coolly. He didn't want any emotional response to cloud Bailey's judgement.

But Bailey had picked up on it. He said slowly, "And you, as well, Pan? To go with your stuff? Don't deny it. I can see they've got their 'jewellery' on you as well as him."

"Yeah. Me as well, possibly. I really don't know."

"Okay. I'll talk to everyone. Count the Mariposa in. I'll do my best to get the others to agree, but I'll have to tell them about the risks, too."

"I understand. Call me back when you've spoken to them. We have to move quickly if we're going to do this."

"Understood. Mariposa out."

The screen went blank. Malcolm sighed. All they could do now was wait. He had to find some way to explain to the miners how to interconnect their cannon controls and where the Klingons' most vulnerable spots were. He could put together some diagrams that would suffice. He rubbed his hands over his head, heartily fed up with the damned restraints.

"Lieutenant?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think they'll go along with it?"

Malcolm considered the people involved. "I don't know, to be frank. It could go either way." He started organising the data, then remembered Bailey's concern. He turned to Archer. "What's happened to Gomez?"

Archer sighed. "I don't know. He did come on board Enterprise, but I thought he had already left when the Klingons attacked us. He was quite… determined… to see me and Commodore Trent. He pleaded your case."

"Unsuccessfully, I take it?" said Malcolm sarcastically.

"What do you expect, huh?" said Archer in indignation. "What on earth possessed you to go after Trent like that? You do realise you may have caused him permanent injury." He glared at Malcolm.

Malcolm shrugged. "I got angry."

"The Malcolm Reed I knew would have had more self-control than that."

"Yeah, well, perhaps you never really knew me."

Archer said quietly, "Or perhaps you've changed."

Malcolm scowled at this amateur analysis session. "I've got to get on with this," he said, turning his back on Archer to work on the plan.

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The miners were poised, ready to experience their minutes of glory. Everyone available had unreservedly agreed to take part. They were used to facing danger in their day-to-day lives. This was a different type of animal, but the principle was the same. Sometimes you just had to accept the risks and get on with it. They had been helped along by the Klingons' arrogant attitude. The miners didn't take kindly to interference from anybody, and the Klingons had stamped their authority on each one of them. This was payback time.

Malcolm ran through his scheme a final time. It was as good as he could make it in the short timescale. He nodded at Bailey's image on the display. "Okay, Mot. Go for it, and good luck!"

"Thanks, Pan. See you soon!"

The display reverted to the station logo.

"Let's go," said Archer, already disappearing through the door.

Malcolm jumped up and ran to take point, to lead them to his workroom and finally discover what horrors the Klingons had perpetrated there.

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Malcolm and Archer approached Malcolm's workroom with caution. They paused at a bulkhead, taking advantage of the small amount of cover it provided, one on each side of the corridor and keeping low. Crouching down, pressed against the wall, Malcolm felt this was almost like old times. His senses were racing on hyper-alert, making the mundane surroundings more vividly present in his perception than they had ever been before.

Indistinct conversation drifted out through the workroom door to their position. Malcolm couldn't catch the exact words, but the sounds were unmistakable. It was Klingon language and several speakers were present.

'How many?' Malcolm soundlessly asked Archer. Archer shrugged and held up three, then four fingers.

That tallied with Malcolm's estimate. There could be more that hadn't spoken yet. Malcolm had hoped that the imminent miners' attack would distract the Klingons, so that he and Archer could make a move against the intruders, but there were probably too many of them to confront directly. So - that was his forcefield equipment gone, if they had figured out how to shut it down.

There was a louder exchange of Klingon speech. Then clearly, in translated English, "We shall not forget."

"I know," came the answer.

Archer mouthed 'Trent' at Malcolm, but Malcolm had already come to that conclusion. The rough quality Trent's voice now held was distinctive.

A glimpse of a figure leaving the workroom caused Malcolm to shoot to his feet, ready to slam into him or take flight. But it was Trent. Malcolm waited, poised on his toes, and registering that Archer was also standing and at his side. How many Klingons would follow Trent?

Trent's shocked expression when he saw Malcolm and Archer was accompanied by a slight gasp. Archer lifted his hands to put a warning finger to his lips and then pointed significantly at the workroom door.

Trent shook his head and said, "They've left. There's no one else here. They transported out."

Archer said, "Did they get the apparatus? What did they say?"

Malcolm was already through the door. His workroom was a mess. He looked about in sick dismay. There were parts strewn all over the floor, drawers and doors open, tools all over the place. And where his distributed emitter array once was laid out - nothing. A big, empty nothing.

"They got it all right," Malcolm said tightly. In a stride, he was at the cabinet where he kept his data chips. They were gone, too. He swore quietly. All that work - in the grubby hands of the Klingons. He had data back-ups kept elsewhere, but still… they had it all, if they could break his encryption. He was under no illusions there, either, given enough time. He threw an angry glance at Archer and said bitterly, "They've taken the equipment, my data, my explosives work…"

Trent said, "They've also taken Tucker."

"What!" exclaimed Archer, whirling to face him, chalk-white.

Malcolm's stomach lurched. "Trip?" he whispered, appalled.

Trent said, "The Klingons made him shut down the forcefield, and then they transported away with him and the other things."

Malcolm felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He had escaped from the Klingons and so they had grabbed Trip instead. Why hadn't he foreseen that would happen? Some friend he was.

A short-lived judder shook the structure of the station and Malcolm back into tactical mode. "That's a stray shot," said Malcolm, looking at Archer. "The miners must be engaging the Klingon vessel."

"Commodore, do you have your communicator?" asked Archer.

"No. They took it."

"Lead the way, Lieutenant," said Archer to Malcolm.

"Yes, sir." Malcolm set off at a run, adrenaline pumping. He realised that he had broken his vow not to show Archer any undeserved respect, but that slip was too petty to worry about right now. Now he had to use all his skills and efforts to rescue Trip.

Malcolm took them by the shortest route, but it was some minutes before they arrived at the docking port. He slowed at the final turn, and warily peered around. There were no Klingon sentries, which was promising. He gave an encouraging nod to the other two and they crept onto Enterprise, keeping a sharp lookout.

An Engineering crewman ran around the corner and skidded to a halt as he saw the party.

"What's happening?" barked out Archer.

"The Klingons have all transported away, sir. Weapons and engines are offline."

"Bring cutting gear to the bridge," said Archer, holding up his hands to display the restraints. The crewman took one look and sped off on his mission.

"Come on," muttered Archer, leading the way to the nearest turbolift.

----------------------

The bridge was full of activity, although not yet fully-manned. There was a noticeable pause in the commotion as Archer strode onto his bridge, and many relieved glances between the crew as they saw their captain's safe return.

"Report," shouted Archer, cutting through the bustle and swinging about to check on which personnel were present.

The helmswoman said, checking through her data log, "Several of the mining vessels gave concerted fire, sir. The Klingons on board Enterprise transported to their ship. There was a short battle and the Klingons left at warp. We don't have engines yet."

"Any damage to the miners?" said Malcolm, automatically moving to the tactical station - presently unmanned - to see what information that might yield. Nothing, of course, he realised in exasperation after a couple of keystrokes. He should have known. He didn't have the necessary authorisations anymore, did he?

The helmswoman checked her data log and turned to answer Malcolm. "Some damage has been sustained by mining vessels, sir, but they all appear to be reporting that no assistance is required from us."

Malcolm briefly closed his eyes in relief. He had been prepared to take the ultimate responsibility for any disaster flowing from his plan, but he was thankful he didn't have to.

"What about the Klingon ship?" asked Archer.

"I think it was damaged, sir. It looks like its engines and weapons took hits, but I can't be more precise."

Archer moved to the situation area at the rear of the bridge, where Trent was already studying read-outs, and opened a comm link. "Archer to Engineering - report."

"Hess, here, sir. The Klingons have attempted to sabotage the engines - warp and impulse. It will take time to fix. Days rather than hours, sir. I'm sorry."

Archer grimaced at this bad news. "Damn. Thank you. Let me have a full status report when you can. Archer out."

The turbolift door opened to reveal Waters, who went straight over to Archer to present his report. "Weapons non-operational, sir. Three fatalities." Waters' gaze fell on Malcolm and he immediately drew his phase pistol, moving to get a direct line on him.

Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. He was nicely secured by the hefty Klingon cuffs, they had to work together to go after Trip, and this idiot still couldn't see the wood for the trees.

Waters jerked his pistol towards the tubolift. "Back to the brig, Reed."

Malcolm defiantly stood his ground. "We have to find a way to follow the Klingons. They've got Commander Tucker."

This unexpected news was received in dismayed consternation by the bridge crew. Waters looked shocked and then disbelieving, but Archer confirmed Malcolm's bald announcement.

"Yes," said Archer, projecting his voice to ensure all heard. "I'm afraid that is the case. The Klingons transported Commander Tucker to their ship from the mining Facility, together with some equipment." He looked about at the more senior officers gathering around the situation display table. "I need to know where we stand, people. Lieutenant Reed - I want your input, too." Archer gestured to Waters to re-holster his weapon and Waters complied with ill-grace, much to Malcolm's amusement.

As Archer received reports from the rest of the crew, a crewman carefully cut away the Klingon restraints with a plasma torch. Finally free, Archer rubbed his wrists vigorously. Malcolm was next to be released. Waters scowled at him, no doubt wishing he could be made to keep them on, but as the Captain took no notice, there wasn't much Waters could do about it. Malcolm gave him a scornful smile, causing Waters' expression to darken further.

Archer frowned as he consolidated the reports and reached an unhappy conclusion. "Enterprise won't be able to get under way for two days. By then the Klingons' warp trail will have dispersed. What about the mining vessels, Lieutenant Reed? Can we pursue with one of them?"

Malcolm shook his head. "They're too slow. There are no cargo ships or traders due, either. The only ship that might be able to track the Klingons is the Facility's transport, Carlotta - although even her speed may be insufficient."

"Carlotta, right. We'll use her," said Archer, as Hoshi arrived on the bridge. "Lieutenant Sato, ask the Facility Chief Administrator to come on board - his name's Young. Tell him we need to have his transport vessel."

"I'll put an assault team together," said Waters, setting his shoulders to emphasise his determination.

Malcolm said to him, "She's only a small ship and not well-armed. There's no point in having an assault team. It has to be only two or three people. Besides, full repair teams are needed here, on Enterprise."

Waters scoffed, "Then what good is that? How can we attack the Klingon ship?"

Malcolm said, with some acidity, "We don't! Carlotta locates the Klingon vessel and sends a tight-beam signal back with its position. Enterprise follows up when her systems are operational." Malcolm thought that was all painfully obvious and his opinion of Waters took another dive.

Archer nodded. "That sounds workable. Commodore - any thoughts?"

Trent replied, "No, Captain. I'll leave the operational details to you. Who will man the vessel?"

"I will," said Malcolm immediately. "Lieutenant Waters is needed here to restore weapons."

"You're under arrest, don't forget," said Waters, clearly irritated by Malcolm's attempt to order him about. "You're not going anywhere except back to the brig."

Malcolm sniffed dismissively. "The Carlotta's sensors aren't sensitive enough to track a warp trail. I have suitable equipment that can be used - with one proviso: I'm the one operating it."

Waters glared at him. "That sounds like an ideal cover to run away, Reed."

"No. I won't." That idea hadn't even occurred to Malcolm. He had been concentrating on the rescue.

"Really? Then why volunteer?"

"Because Commander Tucker is my friend. Besides, I don't think the Facility would be happy to lend you Carlotta. They are quite protective of her." Malcolm gave a cold half-smile at this stretching of the truth.

"We can commandeer her," said Trent, adding his weight to the discussion. "They have no choice in the matter. We can also commandeer your equipment, Reed."

"You could, Commodore," Malcolm said coolly, letting his eyes roam over the bruises on Trent's face and throat. "But, then, I have the access codes. You can't operate it without me."

Waters took a threatening step towards Malcolm and declared, "So - you put your own selfishness against the safety of Commander Tucker?"

Malcolm waited a beat and answered, "On the contrary, I am the best person to undertake this mission - the best chance to get him back."

"You've been out of circulation for over a year. You're rusty," sneered Waters.

Waters contemptuous tone needled Malcolm and he replied with more emotion than he wanted. "Oh yeah? I think I've already demonstrated that's not the case. And I am certainly in practice where my scanner is concerned."

"Gentlemen!" intervened Archer. "This isn't getting us anywhere. Lieutenant Waters - I need you on Enterprise to get weapons up again and I want you available for when we catch up with the Klingons. We might need some accurate shooting."

Waters tore his attention from Malcolm to acknowledge Archer. "Yes, Captain."

Archer pivoted to face Hoshi, who was sitting at her position and listening avidly. "Lieutenant Sato - do you think you can gain access to Lieutenant Reed's scanner? Break the codes?"

Malcolm stiffened. If anyone could, it would be Hoshi.

Hoshi threw Malcolm an apologetic look, before saying, "Yes, Captain, but I can't say how long it might take."

Malcolm tried to keep a calm voice. "And, then, of course, you need someone who really understands the equipment to operate it. It won't be straightforward to follow a warp trail with it - it's not what it is designed to do. And it needs to be done quickly. There's no time for fumbling with instruction manuals, even if there were any available… which there aren't. The more we delay, the more difficult - if not impossible - it becomes."

Archer gave Malcolm a measured look. "I know you'd do your best to secure Commander Tucker's release, Lieutenant. And I take your point about being able to operate your scanner effectively. But you are under arrest - there's no getting around that."

"Captain," said Trent, motioning Archer over to him. "A word, please." The two of them went off to one side to converse in private.

Malcolm watched from his position at the situation display table, his arms wrapped tightly around his body. He truly did think he was the only one who would be able to track the Klingons. His scanner was no toy. It had taken him months to really feel at home with it, and that was on its more standard settings. If he was confined in the brig… Well, he had a horrible feeling none of them would ever see Trip again.

The two senior officers finished their discussion and returned to the others.

"Lieutenant Reed," said Archer, glancing at Trent, "will you give me your word that you will return to custody when this mission is concluded?"

Malcolm froze. The idea of submitting to that again was unattractive, but what alternative did he have? If he said, 'No', then he would be back in the brig in an instant.

"Lieutenant? I must have your word." Archer was insistent.

Malcolm uncrossed his arms and gave a slight nod. "Yes. I give you my word."

At that moment, a crewman arrived with two people in tow - Young and Bailey.

Malcolm caught Bailey's anxiously probing gaze and, with a guilty start, he realized the worry about Trip had driven Gomez' fate from his mind.

"Pan, what happened to Red?" Bailey grabbed at Malcolm's arm.

"I don't know, Mot." Malcolm asked Waters, "Did you find Gomez? One of the miners?"

"I know who you mean. He was still on Enterprise when the Klingons boarded, but I don't know what happened after that."

"Cargo Bay Two to Captain Archer."

"Go ahead."

"Sir, the alien ship has gone. The Klingons took it. We think they took a civilian as well… uhh, Gomez, according to the guard. He was taking a look at it when they turned up."

"Thank you." Archer closed the comm. He said grimly, "That was timely. So - we have two people to retrieve, the forcefield data and equipment and that alien ship. We're going to be busy."

Malcolm saw with alarm how unsteady Bailey had grown. He said, "Mot, are you okay? Do you want to sit down?"

"No. I'll be all right in a moment." Bailey breathed deeply and rested his hand on the display table.

Turning to the Facility Administrator, Archer said, "Mister Young, we need to use Carlotta to pursue the Klingons. They've abducted one of my officers and your Mister Gomez. Enterprise can't go after them yet - we need repairs."

Young rubbed his chin, as if deep in thought, and said, "Uhh… I don't know… We use Carlotta all the time. And what if she gets damaged? Or destroyed?"

Archer's taut face muscles betrayed his concern as he said, "I am sure Starfleet will more than adequately compensate you should that be the case."

Young drummed his fingers on the table while everyone waited for his response. Malcolm caught Bailey's eye and gave a slight shrug. He knew this for what it was - Young's attempt to gain some advantage for himself. He wasn't mistaken in that supposition.

As if suddenly coming to a decision, Young brushed his hair back and said, "Tell you what, you can charter her. I've got the rates set out here." He dug in his pocket for a chip, which he set down on the table with a clatter.

Even Malcolm, who was used to this hard-nosed attitude, was taken aback. The other Starfleet officers were horrified.

Trent said icily, "We can commandeer her - at no payment."

"Starfleet does not have jurisdiction here," growled Young. "No payment then she's not available. Sorry."

Bailey exploded. He slammed a hand on the table and cried, "Stop it! We need to get going. Every moment we argue about this, the further they get away. Stop this nonsense, Young! Your life won't be worth living when I tell the others how you're refusing to help Red."

Young shot back at him, "I'm not refusing to help Gomez, so don't you go spreading stories, Bailey. We need to be covered, that's all. It's expensive keeping the Facility in good order." Young scowled at Archer and then scooped up his chip and rammed it back in his pocket. He said sullenly, "Okay, you can use Carlotta, providing Starfleet makes good any damage or gives us a new replacement if that's not possible. Also, someone from the Facility needs to go along. I don't trust Starfleet."

"But this is a rescue mission, Mister Young," said Archer, clearly struggling to maintain his composure. "It's dangerous. Do you want to face the Klingons again?"

"No. But that's my condition." Young set his mouth in a stubborn line.

"I'll be on board," said Malcolm. "Surely that's sufficient? I've crewed on her before for a supply run."

Young weighed him up. "You're not based at the Facility anymore, are you, Reed? You're wearing a Starfleet uniform - and an officer, huh? Although the rumour is you aren't exactly happy with the idea. Still - I don't trust Starfleet, even if it is you."

Bailey said, "I'll go. No - no arguments, Pan. I need to do something otherwise I'll go out of my mind."

"Very well," said Archer, pushing matters along before any further arguments could be raised. "We'll proceed on that basis. Mister Young, Mister Bailey - please prepare Carlotta."

"My scanner is in my cargo area on the Facility," said Malcolm. "That has to be put on board."

"We'll get that, too," assured Bailey. "I know where it is. Don't worry - I'll be as quick as possible."

Bailey hustled Young off the bridge, eager to sort everything out.

Archer looked around at the gathered officers. "We need one more person for Carlotta," he said. "Someone on behalf of Starfleet."

Malcolm had a horrible suspicion that he was going to be landed with Waters on their pursuit of the Klingons. If it took a declaration of his attachment to Starfleet to avoid that fate, he could swallow his resentment for a few minutes. He said indignantly, "Don't you trust me, Captain? I thought I was Starfleet now?"

Archer said mildly, "I need someone else as well."

Trent said, "Why don't you go, Captain? I can command here. All the crew will be fully occupied carrying out repairs, and we need someone with plenty of experience to lead the mission."

Archer looked surprised, then nodded his head in agreement as he thought the suggestion through. "That's a good idea, Commodore. I would appreciate that, sir."

Malcolm sighed inwardly but managed to keep a straight face. It was marginally better than Waters… or, God forbid, Trent. No - Trent had too much sense to be cooped up in a small vessel with him. Shame that! Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. He gave a half-grin as he again studied the satisfying bruises adorning Trent's jaw. His eyes travelled down Trent's body. Archer hadn't been specific about the 'possible permanent injury'. He knew where he had hit the man. Was it that damage to the larynx or could it be…?

Malcolm looked up and slammed straight into Trent's icy gaze. There was a bleak coldness there that Malcolm had seldom seen. His mouth became dry as he recognised an implacable and deadly enemy. One who was perfectly capable of doing whatever it took to get his own back.

Waters stirred and said, "Captain, I strongly recommend that a member of the security team also be included in the mission. Crewman Akrim was hand-picked by me. He would make an excellent addition."

Malcolm shifted his attention to Waters. He was another prospect altogether - an anxious armoury officer concerned for his reckless captain. Malcolm knew the signs.

Archer shook his head. "No. We'll be cramped enough as it is, and we won't be attacking the Klingons - just tracking them."

"I was thinking about your personal safety," said Waters with a venomous glare at Malcolm.

Archer was startled. "My personal… Oh. I don't think I need to concern myself with that."

"But, sir!"

"No, Mister Waters. I am quite capable of looking after myself, and Lieutenant Reed has given his word."

"Sir!" Waters looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel.

Malcolm ran a hand over his mouth as he enjoyed the entertaining exchange.

"For the third time, no!" said Archer. "Now, we need weapons available as soon as possible, so get working on them, Lieutenant." Archer raised an eyebrow at Malcolm, who was having difficulty disguising his amusement. "Mister Reed, download the scanned data we got of the Klingon vessel. Transfer it to Carlotta's database."

Malcolm nodded and followed Waters from the situation area in the direction of the turbolift, laughing inwardly at the tight muscles bulging at the back of Waters' neck. Unable to resist, and knowing exactly what weapon to choose, Malcolm said quietly, "I see you haven't figured out how to manage the Captain yet, Waters. Fancy a few tips?"

Waters half-turned and keeping his own voice low, said, "Shut it, Reed. You better not harm him, or…" He left the threat hanging.

"You're not up to the job. You can't even get him to agree to a simple security precaution." Another jab getting home, thought Malcolm, with a sly smile.

Waters face was bright red as he turned to fully face Malcolm. He hissed, "If I had my way, you'd be rotting in irons!"

"How melodramatic!" replied Malcolm, with a derisive snort. "I'll give you one tip for free," he whispered, ladling on more provocation. "A good tactical officer always keeps a cool head."

Waters snarled savagely, "That explains why you lost it with the Commodore then, huh?"

Malcolm glared at him. "I knew what I was doing!"

"That sounds like an admission," retorted Waters with satisfaction.

The low voices had been forgotten and neither man was paying any attention to their surroundings. Archer's angry arrival between them took both men by surprise.

"What's going on?" Archer rapped out, bringing his full authority to bear. "I've had enough of this behaviour. Trip and Gomez are counting on us, and I don't expect this attitude. You have your orders - both of you. Get on with them!"

"Yes, sir!" said Waters smartly, moving to stand at attention. He turned and stepped into the turbolift without a backward glance.

"Mister Reed?"

Malcolm nodded his acknowledgement and turned away. He thought he'd won that battle and felt quite pleased with himself. He went over to Hoshi. "Can you let me have access to the scans of the Klingon ship? I don't have the authorisations."

"Sure." She effortlessly brought them up. "Shall I send all the data over to Carlotta?"

Malcolm cast a quick eye over the data. It all seemed to be useful stuff. "Yes, please, Hoshi."

She tapped away. "I think the mining vessels and the Facility might have some additional readings. Shall I add those in as well, if I can get hold of them?"

"Yes. That would be great."

Hoshi frowned at him. "You know, Malcolm, you really shouldn't antagonise Waters like that. You need all the friends you can get. You shouldn't be creating enemies!"

"Huh! We would never be friends in a million years, whatever the circumstances. Anyway, I didn't start that."

Hoshi lifted a sceptical eyebrow and pointed to her ear. "I think you've forgotten how good my hearing is!"

Malcolm grinned sheepishly. "Well - he started it over in the situation area."

Hoshi tutted in mock censure. Then she said, "Malcolm, I wanted to get to talk to you-" She broke off as Archer walked over.

"Have you got the data, Mister Reed?"

"Yes, Captain."

"Very well. Make your way to the airlock. Get what equipment we might need sent there, too. I'll meet you there shortly."

Malcolm nodded and, with a quick grin and a wink to Hoshi, went to carry out his tasks.

TBC