A/N: It took me a little longer than usual to get this chapter posted, but I've got valid excuses. Really, I do! I've been sick (ok, everyone uses that excuse) but it's not fair to come down with two head colds in quick succession. Also, I've had some distractions -- which just happen to go by the same names as my children and husband. Arrggh! Don't they understand the creative process requires at least a tiny bit of peace and quiet!

Anyway, thanks to those reading this, and I hope to have the story finished up in a just a few more chapters.

CHAPTER 13

The Bottom Line was a small craft as space-faring vessels go. A private transport that could carry up to a dozen people, it had suffered an engine malfunction as it was on its way to Earth.

"I really don't know how to thank you, Captain Archer," said the human male on the viewscreen of Enterprise's bridge. "We've never had a problem with the engine before. I'd be grateful for any help you could give us."

"That's one of the reasons we're out here, Captain Macklin," Jon said pleasantly. "We'll dock with you. Then our chief engineer can come over. Hopefully he can get it fixed and you'll be back on your way." He paused, shooting a glance at Hoshi over at the communications station. He knew they were both thinking that if they weren't tied up here too long, they could still get Violet to Earth on schedule. Looking back at the screen, he added with a smile, "Without too much of a delay."

Enterprise began moving toward the smaller vessel, aiming to align their outer hatches. Jon called down to Engineering to tell Trip that his services were needed aboard the other ship. Shortly thereafter, a light lit up on T'Pol's console. "We've docked with them," she said.

Feeling that he should inform Violet of the delay, Malcolm walked into his office to find her sitting at his desk. She was engrossed with something she was doing with a data padd.

"Writing your last will and testament?" he asked, and immediately was ashamed of himself. Yes, she'd been responsible for his bruises but they were starting to fade, and his knee had quit throbbing. All his injuries at her hands had been the products of accidents, and just because she was uncoordinated was no reason to be vindictive.

Violet either didn't pick up on his sarcasm or chose to ignore it. "Actually," she said distractedly, still inputting on the device, "I'm writing down some things. I have a perfect memory, but just in case..." Her voice trailed off.

She gets killed, Malcolm finished the sentence in his head and now really felt like a cad, especially since she seemed to be taking the possibility of her own demise much more calmly than he would have expected.

She finished her task and clicked off the padd. "Maybe I should give this to the captain for safekeeping?" she asked, biting her lip.

Reaching over, Malcolm took the padd from her. "That's a good idea. I'll see that he gets it," he said as he slid the padd into one of his pockets.

He stood there for a few moments until her puzzled expression reminded him why he'd come into the office in the first place.

"I just wanted to let you know that we've dropped out of warp to assist another ship that's having engine trouble," he said. "Hopefully Commander Tucker will be able to put it to rights and we'll be back on our way in no time."

She ducked her head, a strand of her hair falling to hide her face. "Thank you. I...I appreciate you telling me."

She was back in embarrassed mode, Malcolm realized, watching her drum her fingers on the desktop. Chef had been right about one thing -- there was something about Violet that made you want to protect her. Or maybe feel sorry for her. Whatever the reason, he suddenly knew she had spent more than enough time alone in his office.

"Would you like to come out in the armory for a while?" he asked.

She peaked at him from under lowered lashes. "Will there be phase pistols involved?"

"No!'

"It's a beautiful little engine," Trip said as he gazed at the compact yet powerful engine nestled in its own small compartment at the rear of The Bottom Line.

Macklin shook his head and tugged on his loose jacket. "Usually it gets us where we want to go," he said with a friendly smile. "I have no idea what's wrong with it. I just fly this thing -- I don't fix it. Contract work, don't you know?"

Moving over to check the control settings, Trip was impressed by the cleanliness of the small engine compartment. Whoever did the work on it sure took good care of it. It shouldn't be too hard to track down the problem.

"I talked to your captain," Macklin continued. "He said it would be all right if my passengers went over to your ship for a break while we work on this. They're getting tired of being cooped up here. They'd be underfoot anyway. If you don't mind, I'll see them over, grab something to eat myself, and be right back."

Trip nodded agreeably and the other man left the compartment. He could hear Macklin and the passengers moving to the airlock. There had only been four people in the passenger seating area, which struck him as rather odd since the little ship could carry three times that many. This trip sure wasn't making any money for the owners of The Bottom Line.

Removing one of the cover panels on the side of the engine, he soon became wrapped up in the mechanics of the problem before him.

Meanwhile, an Enterprise crewmen met Captain Macklin and his passengers at the airlock. After welcoming them aboard, he led them to the mess hall where they could stretch their legs and have some refreshments. The crewman didn't see the last person in the group sneak off as soon as his back was turned.

Hoshi almost missed it. She was looking up at the viewscreen, which was showing an outside view of the ship with which they were docked, when a light flashed briefly on her communications panel. She caught the flicker in her peripheral vision.

Frowning, she hit a few buttons. "That's odd," she murmured.

"What is odd, Ensign?" T'Pol asked.

"Someone's accessed the main computer."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "There is nothing odd about that. Members of the crew access the computer for a number of reasons."

"But this was someone who didn't have the authority to get into whatever it was they were looking for," Hoshi explained. "Usually they contact the bridge or have a superior officer get the information they are looking for in those cases."

T'Pol thought for a moment. "What were they looking for?"

Hoshi pushed a few more buttons, checked the readout, and looked over at T'Pol in alarm. "Two things. First, if we're carrying any civilians. After that, the crew roster. Specifically, if there is anyone by the name of Violet Bloom on board."

Trip was puzzled. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with the engine. It just wouldn't start. He'd run the built-in diagnostic program and everything was the way it was supposed to be.

He stuck his head into the passenger area to see if Macklin had returned, but the compartment was empty. He really could use Macklin's help with this. The Bottom Line's captain could keep an eye on the helm console as Trip ran through the diagnostic again and let him know if anything showed up there.

Trip debated running the diagnostic again but thought it would be a waste of time without someone monitoring the helm controls. Casting a glance at the airlock access, he decided he'd take a look at the helm himself while he was waiting on Macklin.

The helm was in its own compartment, separated from the passenger area by a bulkhead with a door. He entered the area and sat down in the plush pilot's chair, grinning as he wondered what the reaction would be if he installed a cushy model like this one for Jon on the bridge. His gaze skimmed over the controls. With the engine powered down, there wasn't much to see. He might as well go back to the engine compartment, start another diagnostic, and hope Macklin came back soon.

He was getting out of the chair when something sticking out from under the console caught his eye. He sat back down and leaned over for a better look. It looked like a cutoff switch had been installed right under the engine start-up controls, but out of sight from anyone other than the pilot.

Trip straightened up, a sudden suspicion worrying him.

Malcolm was calling out the names of items as he went through the storage lockers in the armory, and Violet was marking them off the manifest list on a padd. He hated taking inventory, but he thought at last he'd found something totally innocuous that could keep both of them occupied -- with no possibility of bodily harm to himself.

Actually, Violet was rather good at this. She'd caught a couple of items that were listed but nowhere to be found, and she'd also noted a couple of things that had been listed twice. With abilities like that, she must have made an excellent secretary in a busy business office.

They were getting ready to start on the last storage locker when the comm beeped. Excusing himself, Malcolm moved over to the panel. "Reed here."

"Someone just tried to get into the computer to check whether we have any passengers on board," he heard Hoshi say.

"Do you know who it was?" he asked as Violet came over to stand by him.

"I don't think it was any of the crew," Hoshi said. "We do have some visitors on board right now. The passengers from The Bottom Line are in the mess hall."

Reed heard Violet suck in her breath, and he glanced inquiringly at her.

"The Bottom Line is one of the ships used by the Thiera business group," she said, "but it could be a coincidence. It's a hired charter."

"I'm going to send some of my men to the mess hall to keep an eye on them," Reed said into the comm. "How many people came over?"

"Five," came Hoshi's answer, "including the captain. A man by the name of Macklin."

"Oh, no," Violet murmured.

Trip walked back through the passenger compartment. He had his hand on the latch for the airlock when the door suddenly slid open. Captain Macklin stood there.

"Uh, I was just goin' back to get some tools I think I might need," Trip said, giving the man a nervous smile.

Macklin smiled in return, but there was nothing nervous about it. "I don't think so."

"Really," Trip said. "I've got a new microcaliper that would be handy--

Macklin pulled his hand out of his jacket pocket to reveal a phase pistol. "We both know the engine doesn't need to be fixed. Either you're a very poor engineer, which I seriously doubt since you're on a Starfleet vessel, or you're trying to find an excuse to leave."

Trip gulped and backed up a few steps as Macklin waved the pistol at him.

"I have no quarrel with you," Macklin said, turning slightly so he could lock the door while keeping the pistol trained on Trip. "We'll just have to wait until my 'passengers' come back."

The man who had snuck off from the rest of the passengers couldn't keep the computer from reporting his intrusion into its database. He'd quickly backed out of the particular program he was trying to access as soon as he realized he'd tripped the security protocols. It was only a momentary incursion, and there was a good chance no one had caught the unauthorized inquiry.

Luckily, he had found what he was looking for. Although there was no Violet Bloom listed as a passenger, there was one crew member who had come aboard Enterprise only in the last week. It had to be her.

He checked the charge on his mini-phase pistol and quietly left the storage area where he'd accessed the main computer. According to the crew roster, Ensign Jane Smith was a weapons development expert. She was going to get some up-close experience with a weapon very shortly, the man thought with a hard smile as he began stealthily making his way toward the most likely place to check first -- the armory.