AN: Thanks to Joy, Exploded Pen and Triptacular for reviewing :) (and here's to you, Hannah... a tribute to The Bugger Files, what is it, Chapter 6? - 'cause you always leave a review :) )

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Part Three

"Trip?"

Trip heard his name uttered by a soft, questioning voice, the sound penetrating the sleepy haze around his brain. He blinked his eyes open and it took him a moment to recover his bearings. Only when he raised his head and a cramp struck, sending a stab of pain down his back and making him wince, he realized that he had fallen asleep on a chair in sickbay. Carefully, Trip sat up and looked around, trying to figure out where the sound had come from. Eventually, his eyes fell on Malcolm, who was lying on the bio bed in front of him, his eyes open and his hands still in restraints. Trip smiled tentatively, slowly getting up.

"Malcolm?" he asked. "How're ya feelin'?"

Malcolm didn't respond immediately, only blinked and looked at him with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Trip? What happened?" And he moved his hands, pulling at the restraints that tied them to the bio bed.

At Malcolm's obvious bewilderment, Trip felt a surge of sympathy and affection for his partner. His smile widened, and he took Malcolm's hand in his own.

"Hey, darlin', back again, huh? I admit, you had me scared there for a moment."

Malcolm slightly shook his head. "Why? What happened? I... I don't seem to remember."

"Oh, well..." Trip didn't know how to put it so it would seem as harmless as it obviously had been. "Ya kinda freaked out there for a moment. Nothin' serious. Phlox called it the "Sundown Syndrome" an' it seems ta be quite common. You're okay, don't worry."

Malcolm looked at him a little doubtfully, then moved his hands again. "Could you take these off, please?"

Trip hesitated for a moment, then discarded his anyway quite feeble doubts. Malcolm seemed like himself again, and even if there was another episode coming, it would be easy enough to reinstall the cuffs. "Sure, Mal." He bent down and loosened the left restraint. Just when he was about to walk around the bed and do the same with the other one, Malcolm reached over and pulled off the right cuff as well.

"Thanks," he said, and Trip smiled again.

"No problem." He stood next to the bed, putting a hand on Malcolm's arm. "So, Mal, now tell me, how're ya-"

"GOTCHA, STINKING SULIBAN!"

Trip heard the shout, and the next second felt horrible, excruciating pain explode in his crotch. He took in a sharp breath and at the same time tried to scream. A gargled sound came from his mouth as the air got tangled in his throat. The next moment, his airways cleared and a bellow of pain emerged from his mouth.

"OOOOW!"

He groped for whatever it was that held his balls in a death-grip - for that was what was happening, his balls were being squeezed like lemons - and the sensation changed, the pressure mercifully lifting. Covering his wounded privates with his hands, Trip felt his knees give way and tears come to his eyes, blurring his surroundings. He heard his own moans like far-away sounds as he fell to his knees and doubled up, feeling as if his bowels were being ripped apart from bottom to top.

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When Phlox, who was still occupied in the adjacent room, heard a thump and screams from sickbay's main room, he immediately dropped the box with piritramide phials that he'd been about to hide in the very back of his opiates locker. Paying the shattering sound as the phials smashed on the floor no attention whatsoever, the doctor hurried next door and stopped in his tracks at the scene unfolding before him.

There was Commander Tucker, lying next to a bio bed in a fetal position, moaning and obviously in a great deal of pain. There was the chaos that Lieutenant Reed had caused before by scattering medical equipment all over the floor. And there was no Lieutenant Reed in the bio bed, as he should have been. Phlox only saw the discarded restraints, and just that moment he heard the swish of the sickbay doors.

The Denobulan word that flashed through his mind would have made even his third wife, a tough case when it came to embarrassing situations, turn pale. He hesitated for the blink of a second, then hurried over to where the Commander was writhing on the floor, deciding that going after Lieutenant Reed could wait until he'd made sure that the Commander was more or less alright. Getting down to his knees next to Tucker, he grabbed a med scanner that was lying nearby on the floor, and took the Commander by the shoulder.

"Mr. Tucker, are you hurt? What happened?"

The Commander raised his head, and at the pain-filled expression in his face, Phlox experienced a sinking feeling in his stomach. Opening and closing his mouth a few times, Tucker finally managed to speak.

"He squeezed mah goddamn balls!"

For a moment, Phlox was thrown off track. Then, however, he felt a certain relief. Getting one's balls squeezed was painful, but it had not yet killed a man.

"Oh." Phlox was silent for a moment. "Do you think you can get up?" he asked then, and Trip nodded, gritting his teeth.

"Guess so."

Phlox supported Tucker as he awkwardly got to his feet and sat down on the bio bed. The Commander still had his hands protectively cupped over his crotch, and judging from his expression, the pain had not eased. Quickly considering what he had to do, Phlox walked over to a small refrigerator.

"Here," he said, taking out an ice pack and handing it to the Commander. "Take off your pants and put this on the scrotum. I will go after Mr. Reed."

Tucker looked at him with disbelief. "Ya want me ta put ice on mah balls?"

Phlox had to suppress an exasperated sigh. "Yes Commander, I do, unless you want your testicles to swell up to the size of two basketballs. I need to find Mr. Reed now. When that's taken care of, I will tend to your injury."

"Ah, yeah, sure, doc," Tucker said, accepting the ice pack without another word. "Um, maybe it's not such a good idea ta go after Mal. On your own, I mean."

Phlox frowned. "Why not?"

"Ah... ya know, he believes that there're Suliban on the ship, right, and that they're disguised as crewmembers." Phlox nodded, and Tucker continued, "Well, ya see, he's gonna try and arm himself, I'd say."

Phlox realized that Tucker was probably right. "I'll alert Security, then," he said, moving over to the comm. "If he comes to the Armory, they can bring him right back here." He was already about to hit the comm button, when Tucker spoke up again.

"Ah, I don't think it'll be that easy," he said, and Phlox frowned again.

"And why not, Commander?"

"I don't think he'll go to the Armory, you know. It's where we'd expect him ta go. I think he'll go somewhere more, um, private."

"But if he wants to arm himself..."

"Oh," Tucker said and shook his head, "Mal has ways to get his hands on weapons without needin' ta go to the Armory. The phase pistol he's been tamperin' with that's in his quarters... or the old M-16 he keeps in his closet, don't ask me why... or even the collection of daggers he's inherited from his dad!"

Phlox decided not to consider the state of mind a sentient being had to be in to surround itself with a collection of weapons and sidearms. "So you think he went to his quarters?" he asked instead. "To barricade himself inside, so to speak?"

The Commander bit his lip, nodding slowly. "He might very well've gone there."

This was a very unfortunate turn of events. If Reed got the chance to lock himself into his quarters, anything might happen. Phlox doubted that they would be able to break into the cabin by force. Mr. Reed could be a pain in the neck from time to time, but he wasn't Enterprise's Security Chief for nothing. Quickly, Phlox reached for the comm.

"Phlox to Captain Archer!"

There were a few moments of silence, then the Captain's sleepy voice came from the speaker. "Yes, what's up?"

"I assume you are in your quarters?"

A pause. "Sure, of course. Why?"

"I need you to get up immediately and stop Lieutenant Reed from entering his quarters. Watch out, he might be armed. He believes that we are all Suliban invading Enterprise. He is on his way to B-Deck right now."

"What?" Archer exclaimed, and Phlox was just about to explain again, thinking that they didn't have the time for such things, when Archer's voice came again. "Don't tell me. I'll be on my way."

Phlox closed his eyes in relief. "Very good, and Captain?"

"What else?"

"Try not to handle him too roughly. He's just been through surgery."

"... right. Archer out."

Phlox turned away from the comm and met Tucker's eyes that expressed worry for his partner. "Will he be alright, doc?" Tucker asked.

Phlox thought that in this situation, Mr. Reed's well-being was not in his hands anymore, but out of habit nodded anyway. "Yes, Commander. I'll do my best that he will be, in fact, alright."

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It had been almost suspiciously easy. Malcolm threw a tense look over his shoulder, expecting sickbay's double doors to slide open any moment. He couldn't imagine that they'd be fooled so easily. But on the other hand, maybe they really hadn't expected it. He snorted derisively. As if he hadn't seen through that lukewarm masquerade right away. If Silik thought that Enterprise's Armory Officer would still fall for his tricks, he certainly had another think coming. They'd even loosened the restraints for him. Thank God that Suliban adapt their anatomy as well when they become a different species, he thought.

But someone on Enterprise had obviously fallen for the Suliban's tricks, or Silik and his men wouldn't have been in sickbay. Malcolm felt a surge of worry for Trip well up inside him. He didn't like to admit it, but Trip was a sucker for perfidious tricks like that, just like Archer. It was that goddamn American mentality to go ahead and trust any- and everyone if they only looked as if they could be trusted, without checking on the backgrounds. Stopping at the next computer terminal and running an internal scan for Trip was a very tempting thought, but Malcolm knew he didn't have the time. It would be of no use to anyone if he got himself caught again. He had to get to his quarters and hope that the Suliban had overlooked the small storage compartment hidden in the back of the closet. An M-16 wasn't what Malcolm wished for at the moment, but it was better than nothing. Maybe the indoor-fireworks that Maddy had given him for last Christmas were still there as well. He assumed that they would make for a good distraction, if nothing else.

As he reached the end of the corridor, he hit the panel to call the turbolift, and leaned against the wall for a moment. Why in the name of all gods did he have to come down with appendicitis when the ship was about to be taken over by Suliban? There certainly wasn't a more inappropriate time for things like that. There was a persistent, stinging pain just below his stomach, and he had the quite familiar feeling of slight dizziness that he'd begun to associate with Phlox's pain treatment. But he couldn't pay attention to physical indispositions at the moment. There were far more important things to do.

The turbolift doors swished open, and he stepped inside, quickly hitting the button for B-Deck. They didn't even think of a guard inside the lift, he thought. What the bloody hell are they up to anyway?

The lift began to slide upwards towards B-Deck. Nervously tapping his foot, Malcolm counted the fifteen seconds he knew it would take the lift to reach its destination. If the Suliban had done the same thing as last time and had locked everyone in their quarters, it shouldn't be too hard to seize control of Enterprise again. Again Malcolm cursed the unlucky circumstances that had landed him in sickbay at such an inopportune time.

Finally, the lift came to a halt, and the doors slid open. Malcolm was just about to step outside when he suddenly found himself facing two persons - Captain Archer and T'Pol. Or at least two people that looked like them.

Oh, bloody hell, he thought and took a step backwards in the hope that the lift doors would shut themselves again. But Archer and T'Pol were too fast, getting onto the lift as well before the doors closed.

"Malcolm, what are you doing?" the Suliban that looked like Archer asked. "You should be in sickbay."

"Don't touch me," Malcolm hissed. The situation was quite hopeless. He didn't think that he could take on two Suliban in his current condition. Well, he had to try, anyway, since at the moment he couldn't see another option. He certainly wouldn't come peacefully.

Pushing himself off the wall of the cabin, he flung himself against the Archer-Suliban, counting on the element of surprise. He didn't come very far, though. In mid-movement he saw the other Suliban take a step forward and reach out. He sensed a sudden pressure at the joint of his neck and right shoulder, and the last thing he felt was two arms catching his fall before blackness overtook his mind.

TBC...

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