Author Notes: Thanks for the feedback! It really keeps me writing! I love reading your theories too:)

Chapter 4

"Attention all crew. We are under attack and have been boarded, multiple decks. Respond with force."

Trip froze as he heard the call. Everyone in Engineering looked towards him. Shaking himself out of his trance, he yelled, "What are you waiting for? Get to the weapons locker!"

Ever since the Expanse, weapons had been available on all decks at key stations, and once again, Trip was very thankful for that fact. However, before he could even move, a Klingon transported directly in front of him and grabbed him by the neck, holding a gun to his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Ferengi do the same to another one of his men. Two completely different races. That meant pirates. "No one move or reach for a gun, or we blow these guys' heads off!" The Klingon roared in his ear, making him wince.

No one in Engineering wanted to be responsible for their commanding officer and colleague's deaths, and so they complied. Trip had a horrible feeling that their attackers had this whole thing down to a fine art, and that this exact scene was playing out all over the ship. The Ferengi smiled that horrible toothy smile, and yelled, "Which one of you's in charge round here?"

Trip shifted in the Klingon's grip, "I am."

The Klingon nodded to an insectoid Xindi, which then began to take charge of tying up the remainder of the Engineering crew. Trip felt a sharp blow to his chest as a stunner discharged, and slumped forwards in darkness.

"Urgh." Trip's head was throbbing.

"Lie still Trip."

"Cap'n? Wha's goin' on?"

Trip opened his eyes, only to hurriedly shut them again against the light. The Captain sighed, "We were attacked by pirates of some sort - they seem to be a collaboration of races. They want the ship, or at least the components. They came out of nowhere and transported aboard. We hardly stood a chance."

Trip gradually opened his eyes again to regard his friend, "We're barely a week from Earth. How can they have got this close?"

Archer shrugged, "They have a cloak."

Trip sat up and looked around. They were in their own brig. Talk about ironic. "Not good then?"

"No, Trip, really not good."

The door swished open, catching their attention, and T'Pol was thrown in to the adjoining cell, having been filling in for Malcolm's position in the armoury. The Klingon gave the three of them a leering smile, and then turned to an Andorian, "I want their computers hacked. Within two hours, you'd better have all the senior staff in this brig." The Klingon sneered, "They'll be getting lonely in there."

The doors closed as the two pirates left. Trip sighed, "I guess that screws with any rescue attempts." He glanced at his captain, who had gone pale, "What's wrong?"

Archer swallowed, "Malcolm is still listed as senior staff. He isn't officially off this ship until we reach Earth, and since anyone who's been available have been covering his shifts, no one's been named as his replacement."

Trip's stomach gave a lurch, "They're gonna bring him down here? If he starts talking to them-"

T'Pol frowned, "I thought Doctor Phlox had the Lieutenant under sedation?"

Trip nodded, "Yeah, but he's drugged every two hours so it's not such a shock when he wakes up. He could easily come around when he's down here." Trip thudded his head back on the wall, "Crap."

They didn't have to wait long. Within the next hour, Travis, Phlox and Hoshi had joined them, the latter going in Trip and Jon's cell, while the other two joined T'Pol. Soon, the outer brig door opened again, and in came the bug-like Xindi, dragging an unconscious Malcolm and throwing him on the floor next to Archer before departing.

Trip and Hoshi scrambled over to their unconscious friend, while the other three watched through the mesh, "Captain?" Phlox prompted Jon for an update on Malcolm's condition.

Hoshi frowned, "He's so thin and pale."

Trip had to agree with her, "He eats less now." The man's dark hair didn't help as it stood out against his tired face. The clothes he was wearing, creamy white scrubs, were darker than his skin – and that was saying something. It also didn't help that the scrubs were baggy, making Malcolm appear even thinner. None of this was a shock to Trip, who still stoutly visited his friend, even if he was unconscious, but Hoshi hadn't seen him in over a week. "When will he wake up, Doc?"

Phlox's face showed none of its normal happiness, "He was due his dose just as I was caught. He should be coming around very shortly."

Sure enough, Malcolm began to stir. Trip rested a hand on Hoshi's shoulder, pulling her back slightly, just in case Malcolm lashed out unexpectedly. Praying that Malcolm would awake in one of his increasingly rarer lucid states, Trip reached forwards, "Malcolm? It's Trip. Can you hear me?"

Malcolm's eyes snapped open, and he sat up sharply, a frown creasing his features. He glared over Trip's shoulder at Phlox, "Bloody doctors. Never know when to stop. Poke you with a needle. See how you like it."

Okay, so not fully lucid, but at least he seemed to have some coherence, "Do you know where we are?" Malcolm looked at Trip with an incredibly convincing condescending expression on his face, "Right, sorry."

Malcolm looked between his cellmates, and then at the door, "We're back to front."

Archer frowned, confused, but Trip by now had gotten used to Malcolm's way of talking, "Yeah, I know. Someone locked us in here."

Malcolm began to shake, and covered his ears, "People are stepping where they shouldn't. They don't belong and they know it."

"Hey…" Trip shifted his position so that he was right next to Malcolm, allowing his friend to lean on him, "It's okay, we'll get out of this. You don't need to worry."

Malcolm suddenly stopped shaking and looked up, smiling at Trip, "Neither do you."

Trip looked over at the others. All of them looked worried, and he could tell that they were thinking the same thing he was. If the pirates found out about Malcolm's state of mind, they could easily use him to get the crew to co-operate.

They had been in the brig for at least five hours, but considering none of them had a watch, it was hard to be exact. Malcolm had been amazingly quiet, only exhibiting small signs that he was unhappy every now and again. Suddenly, the door slid open, and three Klingons entered, "Which one of you is the Engineer? Your crew's act of playing dumb is starting to wear me thin." It was true; the lead Klingon had a horrible glint in his eye.

Trip looked at Archer, who subtly shook his head, indicating silence. Malcolm, however, seemed to have other ideas. His eyes had snapped open upon the Klingon's entry, and as they opened the cell doors, he screamed and pressed himself against Trip, "No! Blood on their hands! Blood in their eyes! They laughed, kept laughing, wouldn't stop. Screaming. Everyone is screaming…" Malcolm screwed his eyes up and clamped his hands back over his ears, rocking.

The Klingon strode forwards, and glared down at Trip, "Shut him up," He unholstered his gun, "Or I'll do it for you."

Trip stared fiercely up at the Klingon, "It's not his fault! You shouldn't have brought him down here!"

The Klingon's eyes narrowed, "You're the one I got down in Engineering. Bring him." The Klingon made to go, but then turned, "And bring the crazy. He should help in the Captain's interrogation."

"No!" Archer lurched forwards, trying to grab Malcolm before the Klingons, but only succeeded in getting kicked in the jaw for his troubles. The door slid behind them.

Trip and Malcolm were forcibly dragged down the corridor to the turbo lift. Malcolm hadn't said a word, but kept glaring at the hand that had his arm in a vice-like grip. They reached the lift, and the lead Klingon pressed the button for Engineering, where their captain was waiting. Unable to restrain himself any longer, Malcolm wrenched his arm out of his captor's grip, muttering, "Blood on his hands. Tried to wash them but it won't come off."

The lead Klingon delivered a sharp blow to the side of Malcolm's head, "Shut it!"

Malcolm merely glared back, "Bloody name, bloody nature, bloody Klingons." He giggled.

The doors slid open, preventing retaliation from any of the Klingons as they moved forwards. Trip was really getting panicky now. Malcolm was in no state for any kind of interrogation right now. As they moved down the corridor, Malcolm looked over at him, "Shouldn't worry. No need."

Trip frowned as he looked over at Malcolm. The look in his friend's eyes was calm. Trip felt sick, "I'm so sorry Mal."

Malcolm cocked his head, "I'm not."

The doors to Engineering slid open, and then it all happened so fast. One second, Malcolm had been walking, the next, the Klingon to his right had fallen to the floor with a broken neck. Trip did the only sensible thing in that instance – he ducked. Malcolm whirled around, and delivered a kick to the left Klingon's throat, sending him backwards over the balustrade. As the third Klingon tried to retaliate by punching him, Malcolm dodged smoothly, unsheathing the first dead Klingon's dagger, and slitting the third one's throat clean. Malcolm stood in the doorway, splattered with blood, curiously looking down on the shocked Engineering crew and pissed off pirates. Another Klingon, presumably the captain, yelled, "Shoot him!"

Malcolm sprang forwards, vaulting the railings, and dropping down to the Engineering level. He landed impossibly lightly, swinging around to kill a Xindi. Up above, Trip scrambled for a gun, and made to shoot some of the pirates down, but froze. Malcolm was systematically taking out each and every one of the aliens before they could even scratch him. It was mesmerising to watch. Somewhere in the midst, Malcolm had acquired a gun and two blades, which he was putting to very good use. In under a minute, the last body fell to the floor with a thud; it was the captain. Trip ran down the stairs, stumbling over the bodies to try and reach Malcolm. When he did, his friend's eyes were disturbingly peaceful. "Malcolm…" Trip's voice echoed in the silent room.

Malcolm smiled, "They can't laugh when they're asleep."

Troubled, Trip stepped over to the Engineering crew, "Wait there, Mal, don't move." As quickly as he could, Trip helped to free his team, "All of you grab a phaser out of the locker. There'll be more of these guys all over the ship."

Ensign Ferris shook his head, "There are only small amounts in other areas of the ship, sir. They wanted our warp coil, but couldn't work out how to detach it intact. The captain kept talking to others on their ship."

"Alright, go deal with those. Ferris, you go and get the Captain, bring him here. Oh, and not a word about how this happened to anyone, that's an order. Not until the Captain says you can say anything. If I hear one rumour, I'll know it was one of you."

Murmurs of assent spread through the huddle of blue, before they moved off to secure the ship. As soon as Engineering was empty, Trip turned back to Malcolm, who was now sitting happily cross-legged on the floor. He was seemingly unaware of the magnitude of what he had done, "Malcolm?"

His friend looked up, "I'm bored." Trip attempted to pull Malcolm off the floor, but the nausea finally set in. Malcolm giggled, "Told you not to worry."

Trip wiped his mouth. Voice hoarse, he bent so that he was eye level with Malcolm, trying to get him to comprehend, "You just killed all of those people. I know they were…bad, but why, how..?"

Malcolm frowned, "You're angry."

"No! No, I'm not. I just don't understand how you did it. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Malcolm wrinkled his nose, "Silly. They had to go to sleep so the sun would come out."

"Malcolm, I don't know what you mean." Trip whispered despairingly.

Annoyed, Malcolm stood up and started walking around, stepping over the bodies without even acknowledging their existence, "Can we stop playing now? The sun's up. Everything is better. The screaming has stopped. I'm bored Trip!"

"No, Malcolm, everything is not better. You're not better."

"No!" Malcolm yelled. Trip flinched at the turn of mood, "I don't want to sleep! They'll make me sleep! You can't stuff me with white pebbles and think I'll sing a song! You're a liar!"

Before Trip could move, Malcolm had leapt up the stairs, and was out the door. "Crap!"

Scrambling after him, Trip ran to the door, only to collide into Archer as he came from the other direction, "Trip, what..?"

"Oh my god…" Hoshi had seen the inside of Engineering.

Phlox turned to Trip, "Where is Malcolm?"

Archer looked from his friend's terrified expression to the carnage below them, "Malcolm did that, didn't he?" Trip nodded, "Where is he now?"

Trip shook his head, "He got spooked and ran off. He must be using the tubes if you didn't see him on your way here."

Archer nodded, and pressed the comm. link. "This is Archer. Everyone is to be on their guard for Lieutenant Reed, who is unstable and possibly dangerous. Stun only."

"Jon, he wouldn't hurt one of us-"

"We can't know that Trip, I'm sorry."

"But-"

"No. Now you can either join the search, or go with Phlox to sickbay-"

"No, sir. I'll help."

To Be Continued…

Author Notes: Please review!