"Report," Archer ordered, as he stepped on the Bridge.

T'Pol got up from the Captain's chair. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well, as Vulcans do. "The two fleets seem to have ceased hostilities," she said as she let him pass.

"Or they are redirecting them," Archer commented, almost to himself. "Hail the lead ships, Hoshi."

"Captain, they are all charging weapons!" Müller shouted from Tactical.

A barrage of phase cannon fire shot out of the ships' bellies, some of it directed to the planet, some targeting Enterprise, making her rock.

"Shields are holding," Müller said.

"Take their weapons out, Ensign. Start with the ones that are shooting at the planet." Archer sat on the edge of his seat. "Travis, let's try not to offer them too easy a target. And Hoshi, tell those Vulcan ships to pick up a little speed."

Müller nodded and got down to work. The alien's firepower was not a match to Enterprise's, but Mayweather's fine piloting to try and avoid the enemy's barrage was not making it easy for Malcolm's SIC. He seemed quite determined to make Reed proud, though, and was doing a good job of it.

"The Vulcan ships are fifteen minutes away, Sir," their Comm Officer informed him.

"Hail those ships, again, Hoshi," Archer ordered through gritted teeth. It was not long before the fighting stopped.

"You're outnumbered, Humans, you'd better give up," an irate Shinx Captain threatened, one moment later, from the viewscreen. The Ravaja one simply nodded, both mouths firmly closed.

Archer stood up. "And you'd better check your sensors, provided your puny ships have any," he replied. Sometimes a bit of Klingon arrogance was not a bad thing to show. "There are two Vulcan ships just minutes away. Give up this unlikely allegiance of yours, tuck your tails between your legs and leave."

There was a puzzled look on the two Captains' faces, as their translators probably struggled to manage the last part. Then the link was cut, and they disappeared from view.

"One of the Vulcan ships is hailing us, Sir," Hoshi said.

"Captain Archer," a man of much different composure greeted him a moment later, "I am Captain Pavec of the Vulcan ship T'Sur. What is your status?"

Archer took a step closer. "I believe we might have convinced them that they have no chance of victory. If they have any sense, they'll leave," he added, with a lift of his eyebrows.

"Have you been injured, Captain?" Pavec enquired, glancing at Archer's sling.

"Nothing serious."

"Captain, the enemy ships are leaving," Mayweather said.

Pavec tilted his head. "Our arrival has tipped the balance, I see."

Archer felt a twinge of irritation. It was the truth, of course, but it was also just in the Vulcans' style wanting to show that they were the ones who had saved the day. He glanced at T'Pol before replying with a taut smile, "I'm glad we could pave the way for you, so you didn't have to waste ammunition."


Phlox checked his patient. He had rather subtly added some very mild sedative to Reed's drip to get the man to relax. The Lieutenant was definitely a challenge when it came to obeying Doctor's orders. Well, he seemed peaceful enough at the moment, except… Phlox suddenly saw Reed mumble and fret, and glanced at the reading on the monitor. His heart rate was increasing and so was his blood pressure.

There was rubble. Malcolm searched around with his gaze. Some houses were in ruins and there were many casualties; some Thers were wandering dejectedly among the destruction; many of them were still in the water, where they had obviously tried to take shelter. Malcolm felt his heart sink. Had he let them down? And why was he caring so much about these people, anyway, after Xrey had driven him mad with those visions of his. He supposed it all boiled down to the fact that he had always hated abuse of power, the use of muscle on those who were weaker.

And then, to his horror, he spotted a body. Xaya was bending over it, while she tried to keep Xrollit away.

Malcolm flung his eyes open to a shape looming over him. He tried to lift an arm to defend himself, and pain shot through it. Blinking away his confusion, he managed to put things into focus. Phlox was talking to him and pulling a cart closer; he reached to get something from it.

"You are agitated again, Lieutenant, and that will not help your recovery," the Doctor said in a resolute voice, checking the level of whatever med he had got in his hands. "You're going to pull out your stitches if you don't calm down."

Malcolm ignored the issue. "Any news from the Bridge?" he asked in earnest.

"No, but the fighting stopped quite a long time ago," Phlox replied cheerfully. "I believe there is no reason for concern."

The Doctor made to reach for Malcolm's neck, and Malcolm shied away. "There is, indeed. I need to know what's happening."

It was then that Commander Tucker made an appearance. He came through the Sickbay doors with a spring in his step and made a beeline for Malcolm's bed with a smile on his face. Phlox sighed a sigh of resignation and went off to give them some space.

"I see you're takin' it easy and left Bernhard to do all the work," Trip quipped.

His good humour was so out of sync with Malcolm's own feelings that he almost felt displaced. "Commander, I saw the destruction in the Thers' cave," he said pressingly, "Xrey dead…"

Trip frowned. "What are you talking about, Malcolm? Sure, those guys managed to fire a few shots off at the planet, but they didn't do much damage. Bernhard put some of their ships out of commission, and the Vulcans' arrive did the rest."

"But I saw the damage, the dead!" Malcolm insisted, ignoring his injury, and pushing on both arms to sit straighter.

"I'm tellin' ya, they only did minor damage. No houses were destroyed, and no people were lost."

Malcolm bore into Tucker's eyes with his own. He seemed sure of his words. "How do you know that?" he asked.

"We got paged by your aquatic friend. Smart guy. He went to the compound in search of your and the Captain's communicators, 'cause he wanted to thank us for what we'd done for them. We got back all that everything you left there. Your friend says 'hi', by the way."

Malcolm was puzzled, this made no sense. Unless… "Are you saying that I had a nightmare?" he wondered.

The words hung in the air for a moment. Trip shrugged. "Yeah, a plain, old-fashioned nightmare, I reckon."

Malcolm leaned back again, letting out a slow breath. "Well, am I glad to hear that!"

"Oh, boy, Malcolm!" Trip chuckled. "Ah, but here comes today's hero," he announced. "I'll leave you two to your tactical discussions." As Müller came through the doors and got to the bed, Trip patted Malcolm's leg, and with a "Get well soon," he was gone.

A bashful flush rose up Bernhard's cheeks. "We all know that the Commander likes to joke," he said, standing almost at attention. "I only did what needed to be done."

"But with distinguished proficiency, I hear." Malcolm liked to give praise where praise was due. "Thank you, Ensign," he said. "It's good to know that I can count on you."

Bernhard shifted on his feet and cleared his voice. "So, when are you coming back, Lieutenant?"

Malcolm looked right and left. "Soon, I hope. Between you and me, Phlox fusses too much."

Bernhard's eyes smiled. "Would you like me to stage a rescue?" he asked. "I've had a little practise, recently."

"I heard that, Ensign," an unmistakable voice chimed.


Well, almost there. The last chapter will wrap things up. Thanks to those of you who have been reading this, and I'd love to read your comments!