Author's Note: Here is the next part, as promised. Thanks to everyone who is sticking with the story, and a special thanks to those who have reviewed. I hope you keep enjoying the story.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

Under normal circumstances, Archer would not respond to a medical emergency. Lacking anything but the most rudimentary of medical training, he found his presence generally did nothing more than to add to the general chaos. In the few instances where he had responded he generally ended up doing 'traffic control' clearing bystanders out and giving the medical teams room to work. This time was different. For one thing, Phlox was not at his best, and Archer wanted to see if the physician was still able to perform his duties. Beyond that, he had a suspicion that the medical emergency was related to the current state of affairs, and he wanted to see just what had gone wrong. He had been concerned that his crew's decreased skills would cause an accident, and he had been mentally bracing himself for just such an event.

Entering the armory, Archer was surprised to find relative calm, not the panic that the intercom page had seemed to indicate. While the situation was clearly serious, things were remarkably under control. Archer's eyes were immediately drawn to the center of the room, where Lieutenant Reed lay, covered with an emergency blanket. He was very pale, but appeared conscious. Crewman Harris knelt by his side, with an open first-aid kit at arms reach. A few feet away, Ensign Morris, the second in command of the armory, stood with his right hand holding a first aid dressing against his upper left arm. The bandage was soaked with blood, but Morris appeared unaware that he was still bleeding. He was talking to Harris, who appeared uninjured but was very pale. Harris kept trying to explain something to Morris, but the ensign wasn't listening—his eyes were fixed firmly on Lieutenant Reed. The rest of the armory crew was standing back, observing the scene, their faces showing their shock. Cutler glanced around the room before moving swiftly to Reed. She began assessing him before Phlox had even made it to her side, hauling the big emergency kit he had lugged through the halls with him.

"Captain." Reed greeted him through gritted teeth before turning to watch Cutler as she examined him. Archer knelt on the floor.

"Malcolm, what happened?" Archer asked gently.

"It's my fault, Captain!" Harris blurted from his position on the floor. "I was trying to-"

"At ease, crewman," Malcolm spoke firmly, but then gasped as Cutler touched his bleeding side. He tried to continue, but was interrupted by Ensign Morris who moved to Archer's side.

"I'll take it from here, sir. Captain, if you'll step over here, I'll try to explain what happened. Harris, why don't you see if there is anything Ms. Cutler needs.

The distraught crewman nodded and headed over to where his injured comrade lay.

"Ensign, they don't need him getting in the way," Archer reprimanded quietly.

"He needs to do something, to help, sir. Cutler will find something harmless for him to do. Lieutenant Reed insisted that Crewman Harris be the one to give first aid."

Archer nodded, and mentally applauded Malcolm's action to help the uninjured, but obviously guilt-stricken crewman. "So, Ensign, what happened?"

Morris sighed. "To be honest, sir, I'm not entirely sure. We were preparing to do a series of drills. Lieutenant Reed's group was working with the torpedos—working on loading time, targeting, that sort of thing. The other half of the crew was on the range with me, taking target practice so we can get requalified with our individual weapons, when I heard a… bang…some sort of explosion, and then shouting. I came out here and found that one of the torpedo doors was open and Lieutenant Reed was on the ground. He was unconscious for about a minute, but then he came around. I had Harris page sickbay. As near as I can figure out, the torpedo load door flew open and hit the lieutenant in the side. Even without using live torpedos, a lot of pressure that builds up in the tubes for the mock launches." The ensign paused in his recitation as the doctor and Cutler, and Harris lifted Malcolm onto a stretcher, causing the lieutenant to groan and pale. Morris also paled, and then managed to finish his thought. "Sir, the impact must have been very strong…"

"What happened to your arm?"

"Oh, that." Morris looked down, surprised to find he was still holding a bandage to his arm. "When we heard the explosion, everyone jumped. Crewman Jones jumped, and his weapon wasn't on safe… fortunately it was on stun and only hit my arm." Morris managed a grim smile. "While I was trying to figure out what had happened, Jones stuck this thing on me." The ensign lifted the bandage and revealed a bloody burn. "I think it's stopped bleeding, though."

"Captain, we're taking Malcolm to sickbay now." The medical team had recruited stretcher bearers and were preparing to leave the armory. Cutler looked uncomfortable, "Sir, could you possibly accompany us? And Ensign Morris, don't think I don't see that bandage. You need to come down to sickbay, too."

"I'll be there shortly," Morris replied. Archer was tempted to order him to go immediately, but he knew that Morris needed to talk to his crew, reassure them and get them working on something to take their minds off the incident. So when Cutler started to protest, he intervened.

"Ensign Morris will be down within half an hour. Won't you, Ensign?" Morris nodded absently, already striding over to where the rest of the armory crew had assembled in the corner. Archer sighed. They needed to get to the bottom of this, and fast. Archer was sure these were not the random accidents that could occur on a starship at any time—starships were, after all, where dangerous activities took place. No, Archer knew with certainty that these were the result of the crew's current inability to perform their jobs satisfactorily, and he was going to have find a solution, and quickly.

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

In sickbay, Cutler began a more thorough exam of the injured tactical officer. She gestured Archer over, and the captain again was struck by her confidence.

"Sir, I'm concerned." She looked down at Reed, who was now dozing thanks to the influence of strong pain medication. "The lieutenant needs surgery. He has broken ribs, but those will heal with time. But I think his spleen is ruptured, and he may have other internal injuries—I'm just not good enough at reading the scans to tell for sure…" Cutler glanced around until she located the doctor working frantically at his desk, and lowered her voice. "Sir …I'm not sure the doctor is up to it."

"What are our options?"

Cutler shook her head. "I'm not a doctor, sir! I'm an entomologist with field medical training… I think we can wait a little while, and see if his spleen stops bleeding… but from what I can tell on the scan, I think it's too seriously injured to expect that to happen." Cutler glanced at the readouts over the lieutenant's head. "His blood pressure is very low, and he has a low hematocrit…. Sir, he needs the surgery. I just don't know if the doctor can do it."

Archer scanned sickbay, seeking the doctor. Phlox was at his desk, frantically pushing buttons on his computer. To see the normally calm doctor so frazzled chilled Archer.

"I see what you mean," Archer replied.

"Sir, I've become a decent field medic, but no way am I competent to perform any surgery, let alone something as major as a spleen removal." For the first time Archer could see cracks in Cutler's confident façade. "But he has to have the surgery, or he'll bleed to death!" Her voice raised on the last and that got Phlox attention. He hurried over to join them.

"Yes, he definitely has to have surgery. I'll have to do it, and Cutler will have to read the procedure to me, as well as assist me. I have done this before… if we go slowly and carefully, I think I can do it captain, but there is risk—considerably greater risk than normally associated with this procedure, and removing a spleen is never a low risk procedure. But we have no other choice."

Archer was pleased to hear a tiny bit of confidence in the doctor's voice. Glancing at Reed again, Archer noted that the lieutenant had grown more pale. The doctor apparently noticed as well. "I don't think we can wait any longer. Captain, could you spare T'Pol? It would be good to have an extra pair of hands."

"I'll send her right--"

The intercom crackled with static and then came to life. "This is Rostov in engineering. Doctor, we've had an accident in the engine room."

IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

TBC