Xrey removed his hands from his temples and opened his eyes. He was breathing heavily, and beads of perspiration ran down his face. Malcolm looked at him half expectantly half in dread. Seeing his worried expression Xrey said, with a small smile, "I'm fine, Lieutenant. Your Commander Tucker is an easy element to impress."

Malcolm lifted his eyebrows. "I will not fail to tell him that," he commented wryly. Not that he wasn't grateful for Trip's empathic nature, right now. His arm was hurting badly, and he'd had quite enough of being stranded on this planet.

"He is on his way to the Launch Bay." Xrey rose from his seat. "Are you ready?"

"To plunge underwater and entrust my life to someone else? No offence, it's not that I don't trust you, but I'll never be ready for those particular two things," Malcolm said. With a grunt, he pushed to his feet. "But a man's got to do what he's got to do. So here I am." He turned to cast a look to Xaya, and she silently nodded a grateful good-bye. Xrollit just peeked out of a doorframe. After his misadventure, the young bloke seemed rather subdued.

"The cave might seem deep under, but it's only some eight metres under the surface," Xrey reassured him, as they approached the water edge. "Try to remain relaxed, and I'll have you up in no time."

Malcolm felt rather weak. Perhaps the gods would be kind enough to make him lose consciousness, just for a few minutes? Right about now would be good. He slowly began to enter the water, cradling his wounded arm and walking hesitantly down the slanted rock after Xrey. In a moment, the Ther was swimming nimbly around, waiting for him to join him.

"Come, Lieutenant, or you might miss your ride home," he said.

That he certainly did not want. Here goes nothing. Malcolm clenched his jaw and pushed off the cliff.


"Shuttlepod One has just launched, Subcommander…"

The words were accompanied by a puzzled glance from Ensign Mayweather. T'Pol felt her nose twitch. There were just too many emotions in the air, too much tension. "I was not aware that someone was leaving the ship," she commented. "Did Commander Tucker give any orders to that effect?" When no one replied, standing up from the Captain's Chair and turning to the Comm. Officer she instructed, "Open hailing frequencies, Ensign."

A moment later, Hoshi signalled that she could speak.

"T'Pol to Shuttlepod One."

"Tucker here," a well-known voice came back.

A frisson coursed through the Bridge crew; T'Pol tried to ignore it. "Commander, you forgot to notify me that you were leaving the ship," she said. Evidently, when he had 'brought her up to speed' the Commander had failed to mention that.

"Yeah, I'm sorry, Ma'am," Trip came back. "I'm on my way to get Lieutenant Reed."

This time T'Pol could not avoid furrowing her brow. "Have you located him?" Either Commander Tucker did not tell her things, or her ear ailment must be giving her some lingering problems causing her to be out of phase with her Acting Second.

The answer came after a beat.

"Weeell, technically no," the Commander drew out, "but I've had one of those visions. I'm tellin' ya, it was quite compellin', and according to the Capt'n the guy who produced them just wanted to help. He was a captive himself, and Malcolm offered to bring him to safety, so I figured I could trust what I saw: Malcolm waiting for us on a beach."

"I'm still not reading his lifesigns," Hoshi informed her.

T'Pol blinked once. She felt like reminding Enterprise's easily excitable Chief Engineer that he had left without permission, but it would not be appropriate to reprimand him in front of the Bridge crew, so she only said, "It could be a deception, Commander."

"We'll soon find out. Tucker out."

T'Pol heaved a silent breath. It was proving quite challenging to be on a ship full of humans. She collected herself. "How long till those ships reach us, Mr. Mayweather?"

"Less than two hours, Ma'am."


Malcolm felt his chest constrict. He tried not to think of what lay ahead, but already, just treading water near Xrey was proving quite distressing. He felt his heartrate accelerate.

"Deep breaths, Lieutenant," Xrey said, coming near him.

That was one of the tactics to keep panic under control, so Malcolm obeyed and took a few, lung-filling gulps of air. Before he knew it, Xrey had locked him in a secure grip, and they were under. This time, Malcolm forced himself to keep his eyes open. They were going through the water at an impressive speed. He caught sight of a school of fishes, but then his gaze was drawn by the light that was filtering through from the surface, up there. They seemed never to get to it, but they finally did.

"There, Lieutenant, we made it," Xrey cheerfully said.

The man was hardly out of breath, but for all Malcolm knew his species could breathe under water or have extra-capacity lungs. He, on the other hand, was glad to be gulping in oxygen. "Thanks," he managed.

As relief washed over Malcolm, it took his residual strength away. He let Xrey drag him towards the beach, and once on it he fell to his knees.

"There is your Shuttlepod," Xrey said, placing a hand on his shoulder and pointing with the other up at the sky. Malcolm lifted his face to the familiar engine sound. The Pod was on a landing approach.

When his breathing had eased a little, he turned to Xrey with an impish smile. "You Thers don't make it a habit, I hope, to spy on people that are lightyears away…" It was meant as a joke, but still, it was a legitimate question, especially for a Security Officer.

"You have seen what energy it takes," Xrey replied, taking it seriously. "In recent years it's become quite exhausting; so, you need not worry, it's not something we do for fun. We are losing the power. It was much used in the past as a communication means when our planet was densely populated. Now, we hardly need it anymore, for our numbers are dwindling, due to infertility caused by a strange ailment that has been afflicting our species. Each child is a blessing for us."

The Shuttle gently touched down. Malcolm engaged Xrey's gaze. "I'll see that we do whatever we can to ensure that the Shinxes and Ravajas leave you in peace," he shouted over the engine's noise. "I promise."

Xrey nodded. "Good luck, then," he said. As the Shuttle hatch opened, he quickly turned and dived into the water, and was gone. Malcolm watched the rings in the water. Then, cradling his hurting arm, he pushed to his feet. He was shivering and dizzy.

Trip jumped out of the hatch.

"Glad to see you, Commander," Malcolm welcomed him. He was still dripping wet.

Trip rushed to support him. "Likewise," the man replied, "you had us worried." He gave him the once over. "You don't look so good."

The concern in Trip's voice was justifiable, given that he was in tatters, probably pale as death, bloodied and shivering. "I've been better," Malcolm admitted, annoyed that he couldn't help his chattering teeth, "but it's not as bad as it looks."

"Come on, let's get you home."

Trip deposited him on the rear bench, saying, "I take it you don't mind not sittin' at navigation," to which Malcolm responded with a tired smile.

"Let me just get us off the planet. There are Shinx and Ravaja ships on their way, and… well, I took off in a hurry. Tell ya later."

Trip tossed him a thermo blanket and rushed to the hatch. Malcolm was not sorry to see it close, hiding the sight of all that water from him. As he laboriously tried to spread the blanket open with one hand, Trip took the pilot's seat and a moment later they were lifting off. Almost immediately, he paged the ship.

"Tucker to Enterprise."

To Malcolm's surprise, it was T'Pol who replied. Evidently, she had recovered. "Commander," she enquired, "have you been successful?"

"Yup. I've got him. He's a bit worse for wear," he said, with a glance over his shoulder, "but nothing that Phlox can't take care of."

They passed the thermo barrier. Trip engaged the automatic pilot and came to help him with the blanket. "Look what you've done to yourself, Loo-tenant," he said, albeit without humour, as he observed the makeshift bandage around Malcolm's arm. He rummaged in the med kit and got out a hypospray, which he emptied into Malcolm's neck.

"Thanks," Malcolm grunted, "my arm's been killing me." Soon the painkiller started to do its job, the throbbing receded, and he was breathing more easily. "That's better," he mumbled. "How's the Captain?"

"He'll be okay. Still in Sickbay." Trip's eyebrows lifted. "You'll soon see for yourself."

For once Malcolm could not care a fig if he ended up in Sickbay. The relief, the warmth, the painkiller… He blinked, trying to keep his eyes open, but he knew it was a lost battle.

"Go to sleep, warrior," he was just in time to hear Trip say. "I'll wake you up when we get there."