A/N: This chapter is a wee bit shorter than most of the others, but it's what I call a transition. Necessary to the story and for Malcolm. :) Once again, thanks to those who reviewed.

CHAPTER 11

Malcolm was chuckling as he and Hoshi entered the mess hall for lunch. Not only had her risque remark about a pistol in his pocket cheered him up, she hadn't asked why he was carrying one around with him. She apparently understood his need to have some sort of weapon available to him, especially with what Enterprise had been experiencing the last three days. She'd given him a communicator, after all.

They got their food, and Hoshi led him over to a table. Unlike breakfast, the mess hall was crowded.

"We got the last open table," Hoshi said as they sat down.

Malcolm didn't answer. All the noise was hard to sort out. It was loud enough that, with numerous voices overlapping and not being able to hear much of any one, he was becoming disoriented. It was an awful, sickening feeling he could do without. He concentrated on eating, focusing on the taste and texture of his roast beef sandwich and chips, as he tried to block out the cacophony around him.

He must have been doing a good job at it because, some time later, he jumped involuntarily when his arm was gently poked.

"Are you okay?" Hoshi asked.

He nodded jerkily. "Sorry. I was trying to ignore all the racket in here," he said. "Makes it difficult to think."

"It should calm down in a bit," Hoshi said. "It looks like a lot of the crew are about done eating."

Malcolm nodded again, aware of a drop in the noise level now that he was actively listening. He could even make out the words of a conversation at a table nearby.

He'd never been particularly fond of crowds. Being blind put a whole new spin on that dislike. He hadn't realized, now that he couldn't see, what would happen if his auditory sense was overwhelmed. Confusing didn't come close to describing it. It was like being dizzy, but as a result of what he was hearing, not what he was seeing.

The noise level continued to drop as the mess hall cleared out. By the time he and Hoshi finished their food, only a few people remained.

Putting his napkin on his plate, he said to Hoshi, "I expect you have to get back to the bridge."

"That's right," she said. "What about you? What are you going to do this afternoon?"

"I'm not sure--" Malcolm's mouth was forcibly snapped shut as the ship lurched and he was thrown forward against the table. A startled shriek came from Hoshi who, from what he could tell, had been tossed backward as her chair tipped over. Plates and cutlery clattered around him as they crashed to the deck, and exclamations of surprise came from the other diners.

This shouldn't be happening, Malcolm thought. There had already been one subspace event today. If there was going to be another one, it shouldn't be until tomorrow. He revised his earlier theory and came up with a new one. Whoever was stalking Enterprise was now ready for an all-out attack and didn't need to wait an entire day to launch it.

As he clung to the table where he had managed to keep his seat, he heard Hoshi pick herself up off the floor and come over to him.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "At least the grav plating didn't go out. The lights are flickering, though."

"We need to find out what's going on," he said.

As he got to his feet, his hand clasped around the handle of his cane, Hoshi said, "I should get to the bridge. If that other ship has come back..."

"Right," he said. "I'll go with you to the turbolift."

They trailed the flow of departing crew members to the door. As the others filed out before them, Hoshi pulled Malcolm to the side.

"Wait," she said. "Let me try the comm panel in here." A few moments later he heard her mutter, "Damn. It's out."

"That's been the only constant so far in all of this," he told her. "Every time that subspace wave hits, internal communications have been knocked out."

They were stepping from the mess hall into the corridor when the communicator Hoshi had given him beeped. He switched his cane to his left hand and used his right to fish the communicator from his pocket. He opened it with a flip of his wrist, his thumb feeling along the inner surface to find the key to answer the hail. But before he could find it, the captain's voice came through.

"This is an all-hands call. We are under attack. Man your stations, and pass the word. Repeat -- all crew, man your stations. We are under attack."

Sure enough, the deck rocked under Malcolm's feet, and only Hoshi's hasty grab of his arm allowed him keep his balance.

"We've taken a hit," he said.

"Come on!" Hoshi said, tugging him down the corridor.

They hurried along as fast as they could, Hoshi leading the way while keeping a grip on his elbow. All the other crew members who had left the mess hall before them were long gone. Malcolm couldn't hear anything other than his and Hoshi's footsteps, his own harsh breathing, and the creaking protest of the ship as some insane helmsman, probably Travis, put it through a series of convoluted maneuvers. Their rush to the turbolift was greatly impeded by the see-sawing motion of the ship, throwing them from side to side in the corridor. If Hoshi hadn't been with him, Malcolm knew it would have been all too easy to lose his sense of direction.

As they staggered along, he realized he hadn't heard Enterprise's phase cannons or torpedoes being fired. Had the subspace wave affected them? Or was their opponent too evasive to shoot at? At least he didn't feel any more of the distinctive reverberations of Enterprise taking hits.

They arrived at the turbolift, and Hoshi pushed the button to summon it, only to curse in some alien language.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

"The turbolift isn't working!"

Bracing himself against the bulkhead next to the turbolift door, Malcolm said, "Then you'll have to take the access ladders to the bridge."

"But what about you?"

Before he could answer, the communicator, which Malcolm had been carrying open in his hand, signaled again.

"Security to decks D and E," came T'Pol's voice. "We have been boarded. Security to decks D and E to repel boarders."

"Oh, no," Hoshi said. "We're on E deck."

"With the turbolifts out, it may take a while for security to get here," Malcolm said. Fumbling in his pocket, he pulled out the pistol and thrust it toward her. "Take this."

He heard her gulp but the pistol was removed from his hand. "I'd feel a lot better if you could see," she said.

"You and me both," he replied. "But right now we're the only line of defense until security gets here."

"What should we do?"

"We're going to Engineering," he replied. "If intruders are on D and E decks, it has to be because that's where the engine is located. As far as I know, the one thing that subspace wave hasn't been able to disrupt is our propulsion. They get us dead in the water and they can take us apart piece by piece."

They started off toward Engineering, but after a few steps, Hoshi slowed beside him.

"It's almost pitch black in here," she said. "The lights are flickering off and on, and staying off longer than they were in the mess hall."

"What about the emergency lighting?" he asked.

"It's not coming on."

Malcolm laughed, but it was a harsh sound with no humor.

"What?" Hoshi asked apprehensively.

"If the intruders can't see, I have the advantage."

He heard Hoshi's quick intake of breath. "Malcolm, no! You can't!"

"Yes, I can," he said confidently.

"Foster to the bridge!" squawked the communicator in Malcolm's hand. "Intruders have taken over Engineering. I have a man down. I'm holding position at the access hatch. Instructions?"

The communicator crackled with the captain's voice. "What about the Engineering staff?"

"I don't know, sir," Foster replied. "The lighting is almost gone. I can't see much."

"Wait for reinforcements," the captain ordered. "They're on their way."

"We can't afford to wait," Malcolm said to Hoshi. He held out the communicator. "Contact the bridge. Tell them to cut the power for the lighting to all of D and E decks."

He felt the communicator removed from his hand. As Hoshi talked to the bridge, Malcolm reclaimed his phase pistol from her and checked the settings -- power on, setting on stun -- and heard the reassuring hum of the energy cell warming up.

"It's too dangerous!" came the captain's voice over the communicator in response to Hoshi's request.

Malcolm reached out and found Hoshi's hand, holding it so that his voice could be picked up by the communicator in her grasp. "Sir, I know what I'm doing. This may be the only chance we have, especially if they've taken the Engineering crew hostage."

The captain didn't reply, and Malcolm pushed his advantage. "I know my way around there, sir. I've memorized the layout. I don't need to see to find my way around. And I'll have Hoshi along with me, if there is anything to see."

There was another moment of silence before the captain said, "Go."

"Give us two minutes, then turn out the lights," Malcolm said.

"You've got it," came the captain's reply. "Good luck."

Malcolm released his grip on Hoshi's hand. "All right. Let's get to Engineering."

As they started off, the ever-present, underlying throb of the warp engine faded away. Enterprise had been disabled.