A/N: Wow! So many reviews! So firstly a few replies;

Kelli: Thanks. Which summary do you mean? The short one on the 'outside' or the longer one on the 'inside'?

Buggles586: Merci beaucoup! (Thankyou very much!)

Gabi2305: Well then, here you go!

Exploded Pen: I am somewhat in awe that a person who can write as well as you actually reviews my stories! And as for what Malcolm can / can't say in the hostage situation; well, I'm not that learned in Starfleet regs!

Tata: Thankyou! Hmm… well, Malcolm will recover, but only after a lot of pain. This is going to be angsty stuff! And onboard for what?

lieutenants-lady: That will be explained forthwith. It will also be a subject of some concern for poor old Trip…

KITT: Thanks!

HAD1: Well, here you go!

GallyGee: Thanks!

Ryder85: I know, it is sad… Trip will kick himself for it, you'll see.

Sorry if there's anyone I missed out!

Disclaimer: Nope… Enterprise isn't mine. But Ishran, An'Din and the plot are.

Read this next bit!

N.B: There are two sections to this chapter. The 'counterpoint' (can't think of anything better to call it!) is back in the 'present' on Enterprise, after they have recovered Malcolm. The main body of the chapter is what has already 'happened', explaining what occurred to put Malcolm in his current state.

I'm trying to 'humanise' the Xindi a bit; An'Din, the Xindi commander, is going to be a key character. He finds himself becoming attached to Malcolm, despite the circumstances of their meeting. I hope you find this an intriguing idea! Now, on with the story…

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"I'the shipman's card. I'll drain him dry as hay; sleep shall neither night nor day." – William Shakespeare, 'That Scottish Play'.

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Counterpoint

Archer turned suddenly as Trip walked into Sickbay, watched as the expression on the younger man's face turned from one of joviality to that of confusion and worry as he saw Malcolm sitting, motionless, on the biobed.

"Mal?" Trip's voice cracked slightly as he moved closer, hesitantly reaching out a hand. But just as he was about to put his hand on his friend's shoulder, he let it drop back. He looked at Archer, his eyes confused and hurt. And when he spoke, his words were desolate;

"He don't even recognise me."

Chapter Two

After two weeks of defiant silence from the human, An'Din had had more or less had enough of it. He knew that he could always go to their 'back-up' plan - that slimy little eavesdropper, the traitor to his own species - but he erred from that idea for it would quite possibly mean the death, or at least the severe damaging, of his prize.

But nor could this silence go on for much longer. The Council were becoming impatient; they were even getting dangerously close to throwing him off the Council altogether, for they felt that if they gained nothing but a silent human corpse for their efforts then revealing themselves to the humans once again would have been in vain.

So this was how he came to be in the Council Chamber late at night – though of course he rarely slept, that was an advantage of his sub-species – with the human, significantly more bruised and bloodied than he had been two weeks ago – at his feet.

"Stand up, coward!" He kicked the human once more, and to his credit, the human pulled himself to his feet, despite the immense pain it obviously caused him. An'Din could not help but respect the man, in his own way… he was loyal to his cause and his people, a sentiment An'Din could understand.

And he could almost have mercy on the man; for his stubborn streak, his refusal to buckle under enormous pressure was a thing valued among the reptilian strand of the Xindi.

But the one thing he could not forgive the human for was his race, his species, and the atrocities that they would one day cause.

And so, when his belief in his cause became weak, he just reminded himself that this stubborn, worthy man before him was his enemy, and that he could not show him mercy for this man might someday parent the person who would destroy the Xindi races…

"Now," he hissed, grabbing the human by the hair, "you are going to tell me what your ship was doing in the Delphic Expanse!"

The human looked up, venomous hatred in his eyes, and An'Din saw something within those blue-grey depths snap.

"Finding revenge for the seven million men, women and children you Xindi scum murdered!" The human spat out. He had a deep, commanding voice.

An'Din drew back at the force of the man's anger. He knew what the man was saying was true, but the probe had been launched in an act of self-defence…

An'Din looked away quickly, ashamed at his own weakness, and his eyes came to rest upon Ee'Sihr in his tank, whose eyes were wide and understanding. Don't think about it. Those eyes seemed to say. We must do what has to be done.

An'Din held his fellow Xindi's gaze for a moment longer, before wrenching his eyes back to the human, furious for his moment of weakness. He struck the human round the face, causing him to collapse once more to the floor. The human attempted to get up once again, but An'Din knelt by him and pinned him to the ground. He leant forwards so that his mouth was by the human's ear.

"It is not your people who need avenging, human," he spat, "not yours."

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Back on Enterprise morale was slowly but surely slipping. They had searched for two weeks without a single sign or clue that might lead them to their lost crewman. And during the daily briefing in the Situation Room, T'Pol voiced an unspeakable suggestion.

"We should call of this search." Trip immediately exploded.

"What!" T'Pol gazed at him coolly, her forehead creasing slightly.

"Commander, I do not understand how you cannot see the logic in the - "

"No!" Trip turned to Archer, his eyes angry and frustrated. "Please tell me you ain't listenin' to any of this?" Archer sighed, before replying reluctantly.

"She may have a point, Trip. It seems… unlikely that we're going to find Malcolm, not now." Trip looked at his friend in complete disbelief. He paused for a moment, wrestling with his feelings, before managing to gasp out;

"Are you sayin' we should just abandon him?" At this point, T'Pol interjected once more, earning herself another if-looks-could-kill glare from Tucker.

"It is quite unlikely that the Lieutenant will still be alive." At this comment, Hoshi looked down at her feet, biting her lip, before glancing up once more.

"But he managed well enough when he was captured on Terra Nova…" she trailed away, her own flimsy encouragement sounding false even to her own ears. T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"The Terrans were primitive and did not have quite the same motive to harm the Lieutenant as the Xindi do." Trip pursed his lips, infuriated that everything T'Pol was saying spoke only sense. But he couldn't just give up on his best friend. He took a breath.

"Look," he started, with a forced air of calm, "all I ask is that we hold on for just a few more days." He looked around at them all stood there, Hoshi, Travis, Archer and T'Pol. "Don't you think we owe it to Malcolm – who'd have risked life and limb had it been one of us the Xindi had taken – to do our very best to find him?" He grimaced. "And if we all we find is a body, well, then at least we'll have the comfort of knowin' for sure."

The group were silent.

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An'Din looked the humanoid – the eavesdropping fool – up and down in distaste. If there was one thing the Xindi warrior could not abide, it was a traitor to his own species.

And Ishran, the Betazoid before him, certainly was that.

The Betazed were a peace-loving species, who only used their telepathic abilities for communication with others of their species. It was considered sacrilegious to even attempt to use those abilities on a member of a species unused to such a form of communication. To the unprepared, such an attempt was a violation of the most personal nature, and could even result in death or severe brain damage.

But this was exactly what Ishran made a living out of doing. He was an interrogator, of the most incredible sort. He could, with a simple thought, burrow deep into a subject's memories, searching out the correct information, and then withdraw, without a moment of distress. It was a painless method of interrogation

Except, of course, for the individual being 'questioned'. And somehow, An'Din was quite irrationally uneasy with the thought of handing over the human to the crude devices of the twisted little telepath.

"So," Ishran leered, "you finally require my assistance, do you?" He cackled suddenly. "Your interrogation not quite go to plan, then?" An'Din's eyes narrowed. Ishran was coming recklessly close to crossing the border to plain disrespect…

"No." He muttered through gritted teeth. "It did not." But Ishran, fool that he was, did not see the dangerous glint in the Xindi's eyes.

"Well," Ishran smirked, still oblivious to the fact that he was putting himself in mortal danger, "I must see this specimen before I begin my… procedure." An'Din gritted his teeth and held back the urge to wring the scrawny little man's neck. Ishran was too useful an asset to damage overly… more was the pity.

"Follow me." He growled, and turned on his heel. He did not look back to see if Ishran was following him or not. But for the human's sake, he hoped he wasn't.

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Back on the Enterprise, Trip was becoming desperate. He knew the drill, when a crewman went missing; four weeks full-on search, then an extra five weeks 'winding down', gradually pulling out their efforts. After four months, the individual would be declared missing in action, and a letter of condolence would be sent to his or her next of kin.

But out here in the Delphic Expanse they found themselves working on a much shorter time scale in which to hold out any feasible hope. The Xindi, Trip knew, would do anything to get information about Earth, Enterprise and her mission. He remembered all too well the 'slave-girl' Raajin and how she had tricked them all.

Trip sighed heavily, glancing down at the PADD in his hands, reading it but not taking it in. He was in the mess hall, but somehow it didn't feel the same without Malcolm there.

He still couldn't believe it had taken him five hours to notice he was gone. True, shortly after Malcolm had been reported missing Hoshi had discovered a 'cookie' in the computer system – the Xindi had made the computer think there was still a full crew complement although one man was missing – but was Malcolm that unimportant to him that it had taken so long for Trip to notice his absence? He hoped not.

Still, Trip told himself without much conviction, Malcolm would hold out. He was strong enough to stand any physical assault the Xindi might throw at him. He'd survive.

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Although it was not necessary, An'Din remained in the brig as Ishran carried out his initial 'examination' of the human. Although his excuse to the suspicious looks of the guards had been that he did not want the human overpowering Ishran, his true reason for staying was to keep an eye on Ishran's actions. When it came to choosing whether he preferred Ishran to a member of the species that would one day destroy his homeworld, he was faintly disturbed to realise that he was far more concerned for the human's welfare than the slimy betazoid's.

"Hmm." Ishran grunted as he stepped into the brig, looking down at the sleeping human. An'Din looked on disapprovingly.

"What is it?" He asked sharply, and the sound of his voice caused the human's eyes to snap open. The man pushed himself up against the wall, eyeing An'Din suspiciously, obviously expecting another beating. An'Din said nothing further, merely shook his head and indicated Ishran. The human's eyes narrowed as he studied the humanoid. Ishran smiled placatingly.

"Just relax… I won't harm you…" He murmured soothingly, and An'Din could not help but think how expert an actor the betazoid was. Ishran was going to harm the human, in ways unspeakable even to Ishran's own species.

But the human was obviously a sharper judge of character than Ishran had assumed him to be, for he did not relax his defensive posture. An'Din smirked slightly as he observed Ishran's obvious bafflement.

But then the betazoid's expression hardened, and he gave the human a contemptuous look. He reached out a hand, grabbing the human's head with a strength surprising for one of his spidery frame.

The human kicked out and struggled from Ishran's grasp, his eyes wide with horror as Ishran began his 'examination'. An'Din knew what was happening; Ishran was using his telepathic abilities to burrow into the human's consciousness, an almost sacrilegious act of violation upon any living creature.

But An'Din knew that this initial examination would be nothing – nothing – compared to the mental torture the human would be forced to endure at Ishran's brutal investigation that would at his, An'Din's orders, soon take place.

And though he knew that the human was his enemy, and that he himself was meant to be a hardened warrior, he wondered briefly how he would even manage to give that order when the time came.

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A/N: Please review, tell me what you think!