A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews of the last chapter. (sighs happily) You like my story!

CHAPTER 13

Malcolm clenched the phase pistol tightly in his hand. Not only could he not see anything, he couldn't hear anything, either. It had gone deathly quiet in Engineering. There were no noises from the crew, and there were none of the strange breathing sounds from the aliens.

He was worried about Hoshi. He surmised she was lying somewhere nearby on the deck -- hopefully not dead, only unable to answer. But as much as he wanted to know what had happened to her, he didn't have time to dwell on that now.

According to Trip's shouted warning, there was another intruder somewhere in Engineering. But where?

He silently begged for somebody or something to make a sound, anything to give him a reference point so he could figure out which direction he was facing.

Listening as hard as he could, he turned his head to one side, then the other. A wave of dizziness washed over him as spots suddenly danced before his eyes, and he almost dropped the phase pistol. He'd never experienced anything like this since he'd lost his sight. He'd been living in darkness, the blackness unrelieved by even the faintest glimmer of light. Was he so disoriented right now that his mind was conjuring up a visual memory to go along with the dizziness?

He shook his head, but the specks become brighter instead of going away. The pinpricks of blue and green and red bobbed and weaved around him like some anemic fireworks display. He quit moving his head, but the lights remained, their erratic movements also coming to a halt to glow in the darkness before him.

His breathing hitched as a new realization struck him like a thunderbolt. He was seeing. Really seeing! The colored specks were the lights on consoles and panels in Engineering. It was exactly what he'd expect to see if the main lighting was out and the only illumination came from the panel lights.

Another surge of dizziness made him sway on his feet. It had been a while since he'd had to process what his eyes were showing him. Broadening his stance to keep his balance, he tried to shift his focus. Instead of looking at the lights, he peered into the surrounding darkness.

Off to his right, an unbroken area of black had to be the warp engine. He glanced up and saw the soft lavender and blue lights of the control panel on the elevated platform. Having established where he was, Malcolm's spirits rose, but he tamped down his joy at being able to see again. There would be time for that later -- if there was a later -- when everyone was safe.

A grunt followed by the sound of someone choking split the silence. Both Malcolm's head and his hand holding the pistol jerked in that direction. What should have been a solid pattern of console lights was blocked in places by patches of darkness. It had to be the crew members standing in front of that panel.

Then, without warning, the overhead lights came on. For a few moments, Malcolm thought his blindness had returned, but he blinked rapidly and was able to clear his vision of the tears generated by the glaring brightness.

The first thing he saw was the Engineering staff clustered in a group in front of one of the auxiliary panels about six meters away. It was the panel that controlled the department's environment, including the lighting.

At the edge of the group was an alien in a dark tunic, trousers and heavy boots. He could pass for human but for the fluted gills lining his neck and which pulsed as he breathed. Once again the respiration of the alien rasped in the air, and Malcolm realized the intruder must have been holding his breath before the lights came on so as not to give his own position away.

Either one of the crewmen or the intruder had turned on the lights. But who had done it wasn't important. What mattered was that the intruder had taken advantage of the situation. He had one burly arm around Trip's neck, and in his other hand he held a wicked-looking gun to the engineer's head.

A gun held to a hostage's head outweighed Malcolm's gun aimed at the intruder. Malcolm would have to retreat, or drop his weapon and surrender. If he didn't, Trip could very well end up dead.

Retreat or surrender. Malcolm couldn't see another option.

A second revelation in as many minutes struck Malcolm. No one realized yet that he could see.

The problem was that the alien didn't know he had been blind. But, if he could make the intruder think that he couldn't see, he might be able to lull him into a false sense of security. The alien would discount him as a threat, and all Malcolm would have to do is wait for an opening.

Other than to blink, Malcolm hadn't moved since the lights had come on. Now he swiveled his head slowly, letting his eyes take on a far-away look.

"Malcolm!" Trip called out, only to gag harshly when the intruder tightened his grip around his neck.

"Be quiet!" grumbled the alien, his voice a low bass rumble punctuated by the flapping of his gills.

Malcolm jerked his head toward Trip and his captor. Keeping the pistol held out before him, Malcolm let his eyes track to the side as if listening, doing his best to imitate someone who is blind.

Trip tried appealing to the intruder. "He can't hurt you," he said. "He can't see. He's blind!"

"Trip!" Malcolm cried angrily, turning his head toward the pair again, but making sure he looked past them.

"Malcolm!" Trip yelled hoarsely, struggling to keep the alien's arm from clamping even tighter around his neck. "The lights are on. He can see you. You'll get yourself killed!"

The intruder issued what sounded like a laugh. "If you cannot see and you shoot, you will hit one of your shipmates," he said in that deep, fluttering voice which grated on Malcolm's nerves. "I am in their midst, with a weapon aimed at the head of the noisy one. Drop your weapon now."

Malcolm shifted his weight, trying to appear uncertain, but kept the pistol aimed in the general direction of the pair even as his eyes focused on something behind them.

"Drop it now!" the alien demanded impatiently.

"I can't," Malcolm responded. "It's got a hair-trigger. It could go off when it hits the deck."

He saw Trip's startled expression but ignored it. Trip knew the phase pistols weren't that sensitive.

"The rest of you -- move away," the alien ordered. When the crew members were too slow to comply, he increased the pressure around Trip's neck. The engineer gasped for air, his hands pulling uselessly at the alien's arm, and the crewmen hurriedly moved to the side. "You! With the weapon," the alien said. "Step toward me."

Malcolm took a step, not toward the alien, but toward the Engineering crew off to the side.

"Not that way!" roared the intruder.

"I can't see where you are!" Malcolm said, trying to infuse his words with a mix of frustration and fear. "Maybe you should come to me."

When the alien didn't respond, Malcolm shifted his grip on the pistol, letting it slide back along his palm so that he was holding it by the barrel with the hand grip toward the alien.

The alien began shuffling toward him. Trip was still in his grasp and providing an effective shield. Malcolm waited, keeping his gaze unfocused, until they were a meter away. Then he shifted his gaze to look Trip straight in the eye and said, "Duck!"

Trip's eyes flew open wide in surprise, but he dropped like a ton of duranium, sliding out from under the startled alien's grasp. In one smooth motion, Malcolm flipped the pistol back up into position, his hand clasping the handle and his finger finding the trigger, and fired. The alien collapsed on the deck in a heap beside Trip.

Malcolm took a step closer and nudged the alien with his sock-clad foot. When there was no response, he shifted his gaze to where Trip was sitting on the deck. "You all right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Trip rasped out, rubbing his throat.

Malcolm reached over and grasped Trip by the upper arm to help him up. Trip's eyes never left him the whole time, and he continued to stare in amazement at Malcolm after he gained his footing.

"You can--" Trip started, but had to stop to cough. "You can see?"

Malcolm smirked and nodded. Then he quickly sobered. "Where's Hoshi?"

A moan came from near the warp engine control platform, and both men hurried in that direction. Hoshi was sitting under the platform, her normally neat hair coming out from her ponytail and a bruise darkening her forehead.

"What happened to you?" Trip asked in concern.

Hoshi dropped her head into her hands and gingerly touched her injury. From between her fingers, she said, "I couldn't see where I was going. I think I ran into the ladder and knocked myself out."

As Trip dropped to a squat to check Hoshi's injury more closely, Malcolm glanced around. The Engineering staff were trussing up the intruders with lengths of wiring and cable ties. All the security personnel would have to do is take the prisoners to the brig.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the communicator and contacted the bridge. He relayed that Engineering was secure. He was about to inquire about the overall situation when the deck shuddered.

"It is another subspace wave," came T'Pol's voice over the communicator.

The lights in Engineering flickered but didn't go out. Malcolm automatically reached over and grabbed the ladder railing in case the grav plating was affected. The gravity remained steady, but the startled exclamations of the Engineering staff alerted him to a new development. A shimmering effect was enveloping the intruder he'd just stunned. He looked around and saw the same thing happening to the other fallen intruders. Within moments, they were gone.

"Reed to the bridge," he said into the communicator. "The intruders have been transported off the ship."

"Acknowledged," came the captain's voice. "Their ship is leaving, too."

Malcolm signed off, closed the communicator, and turned his attention back to where Trip was helping Hoshi to her feet. Gesturing toward her forehead, Malcolm said, "You should get to sickbay and let Phlox look at that."

Hoshi glanced at him and did a double take. "You can see?" she asked. "When did that happen?"

He smiled. "Some time after you knocked yourself out."

She started to laugh, but winced and put a hand to her head. "That hurts," she said. "You ought to let Phlox take a look at you, too." At his stubborn expression, she added, "You know the captain will order you to do it if you don't."

Malcolm sighed. She was right. He didn't understand why his sight had returned. No doubt Phlox would have some psychological mumbo-jumbo to explain it. Best to go and get it over with.

Trip excused himself to oversee any repairs that might be needed, and Malcolm went with Hoshi toward the exit. Retrieving their boots from where they'd taken them off by the hatch, he handed Hoshi's smaller pair to her. He slipped his boots on, but she made no move to put on hers.

At his quizzical look, she said, "I feel a little woozy. I think I'll leave them off for now."

As they made their way out of Engineering, Hoshi chuckled ruefully. "I must look a sight. No boots, a huge bruise, and I know my hair's a mess."

Malcolm gave her a sidelong glance and smiled. "Oh, I don't know about that. You look pretty good to me right now." He paused halfway through the doorway and glanced back at the bustle in Engineering as the crew put things back in order. "Everything looks good."

Turning back to leave, his gaze fell on his cane where he'd left it by the hatch. He decided he'd leave it. He didn't need it any more.

(A/N: No, this isn't the end. There's one more chapter to go. Got to tie up all those loose ends! And there's one more little twist, too.)