Season Five

by EnlightenedSkye

Picking up six months after Terra Prime, the Enterprise attempts to hold the Coalition together while keeping an eye on the growing Romulan threat. Trip takes his own command and the war begins mid-season. [July 2155 to January 2157. 25 episodes. Fully episodic, so each chapter is a stand-alone story. ATP, Troshi, Malcolm/OC, P/C. Rated T throughout. Complete, S6 and S7 complete]

5. Episode 5: Retribution

A/N: Welcome back! I'd like to thank everyone for your comments and feedback-they really help me make this story better!

My apologies if you're not on the Malira train yet (I guess that's what we're calling it now, lol) because this chapter and the next one have a lot of it. This chapter is more of a mixed bag of ships.

Full disclosure, I was planning on having Liz insist on watching Clueless until I remembered it would have been released during the Eugenics Wars in the canon timeline, which would have been interesting to say in the least. I've also been thinking about the timeline implications of Grand Nagus Zek appearing in The Princess Bride, but not too hard.

I borrowed the idea of the three Rigelian species (Jelna, Zami, and Chelon) from the ENT pocket novel Tower of Babel. That's where the similarities end though. This episode wound up having a lot of scenes that were "cut for time"; I'm considering starting a separate story for missing scenes from each episode.

The Ktarians are pretty much known for two things: trying to take over during the TNG episode 5x06 The Game, and for Naomi Wildman being half Ktarian. There's a tiny bit of world building for them done here, with more to come later on.

Finally...be warned there's a little bit of blood and guts here, but nothing too descriptive.

Season Five

Episode Five: Retribution

Hoshi wasn't expecting to find anyone in the gym late at night. She'd been on edge all week. Truthfully, all she wanted to do was run a few kilometers with music blasting through her headset and not have to interact with anyone. Clearly, the crew had other ideas.

The first person she saw was the Captain, which was an easy enough interaction. Having served together for a couple of years, this wasn't the first time they'd had such an encounter, as they were both night owls with a penchant to agonize over the finer details of whatever mission they happened to be on. They exchanged a nod and Hoshi jumped on the treadmill, settling into an easy jog.

The next person through the door was Lieutenant Cutler. She waved and stepped onto the machine next to her, heaving a loud sigh.

She wasn't known to be overdramatic, so this had to be good. Hoshi removed one of her ear plugs and asked, "Rough night, Liz?"

"It's just starting. I've got the conn during gamma shift for the second night in a row, and I haven't slept a wink," she complained, slowly increasing the speed. "I'm trying to wake myself up right now, or else I run the risk of dozing off in the Captain's chair."

From the other side of Hoshi, T'Pol leaned forward and informed her, "You would not be the first to do so."

She knew she was referring to Commander Tucker, their resident insomniac, who had the unfortunate talent of being able to fall asleep wherever he happened to be at the moment his circadian rhythm caught up to him. "Why don't you just take another hypospray?"

"I've been forbidden to do so until my sleep schedule gets back to normal," she huffed, putting air quotes around the middle of the sentence. "Apparently it's for my own good."

"You have been relying on those a lot," Hoshi reminded her.

"You try sharing quarters with someone who doesn't sleep!" She exclaimed, clenching both hands into fists and shaking them.

Hoshi smiled. "You made your bed, and now-"

"I know, and I don't regret it, even for a second. Even in times like this."

"Well, at least Dita will be happy to see you. She took the beta shift conn, and we passed another subspace communications beacon about two hours ago. She's up to her eyeballs in letters from home."

"Lucky me!" Liz said, jacking up the speed once again.

Just then Ensign Taxa entered the room, seemingly in a hurry. She joined them in the line on the opposite side of Liz, and wasted no time breaking out into an all-out sprint.

"Feeling alright, Alira?"

"Living the dream!" She replied, adopting an expression she'd heard her human crewmates using many a time. "The preparations for these Rigelian-Ktarian Coalition talks are driving me crazy. Did you know they want to have a reception on the first day? Three hundred delegates spread over four buildings. It's a logistical nightmare!"

"So you came down here to take your frustration out on that poor treadmill?"

"It was either that or start smashing things in the MACO training room. It's going to be a full diplomatic affair, and they're determined to allow weapons in the complex, because apparently the Rigelians and Ktarians don't trust each other very much to begin with. I don't know what I'll do if the Commodore starts to wander out of my line of sight like he usually does. I'm this close to chaining us together."

"Perhaps I could be of assistance, Ensign. The Commodore is extremely distractible. I will attempt to keep him on task," T'Pol said.

Alira huffed, which was the closest thing she could muster to a laugh at her rate of speed. "I appreciate the support, ma'am. When we're done on Rigel V, I can't wait to take my hibernation cycle and sleep for a week."

"Jealous," Liz grumbled.

"We'll try our best not to have a security incident for that entire time," Hoshi promised.

"Good!" Alira cut her an appreciative glance. "You better see to it."

They ran together in companionable silence for a few minutes before Hoshi remembered one of the tasks that had been keeping her awake earlier. "Would any of you care to give your input for the next movie at ladies' night?"

Truthfully, she wasn't sure how the tradition had started, but some time after they returned from the Expanse, she'd started hosting weekly gatherings for the female officers in her quarters. At first it was only her and Liz, but it eventually grew to a majority of the women on board. They would gossip, paint their nails, and eat an absurd amount of junk food. Last week, there had barely been room to walk around due to all of the people seated on the floor.

"The Notebook," Alira answered immediately. At her questioning look, she added, "I've never seen it, but I overheard Commander Tucker telling Mr. Reed how much it makes him cry."

Hoshi and Liz both laughed at that. They knew that movies had fallen out of fashion on Denobula a long time ago, but Alira certainly tried to get in the spirit, though she spent most of the running time of any given romantic comedy pointing out how conflict could have been avoided if the leads had just taken a moment to communicate with one another.

"I object!" Liz cried, affecting a valley girl accent momentarily. "Legally Blonde is where it's at. They don't make movies like they did in pre-World War III Earth."

"You're right. It's mostly war epics and remakes now. Wonder how long it's going to be before they make a movie about us," Hoshi said.

"Just a matter of time, sister." Liz took a long swig from her water bottle. "I bet they don't even wait for us to retire to start casting it."

"I wonder what you-know-who is going to say when he figures out that you're running an underground movie night in competition with his own," Alira teased.

"Speaking of which-" Hoshi looked between them with a conspiratorial grin. "I've been thinking we need to move into a larger venue, like the mess hall."

"He definitely wouldn't like that."

Beside her, the Captain suddenly stopped her treadmill and stepped onto the floor. "In times such as these, it might benefit you to adopt a new axiom of mine."

They looked at her, truly curious as to what that might be.

"Act first, seek approval later."

The Captain left without another word, leaving three very amused women in her wake.

---

Captain's log, September 24th, 2155: We are presently arriving in the Rigel system to attend a series of Coalition talks held jointly by the Rigelians and Ktarians, two species with which we have had limited interaction. The motivations and intentions of our delegates remain unclear.

---

Enterprise breezed into a high orbit of Rigel V shortly after the start of alpha shift, meriting the gathering of the senior officers in the wardroom.

Malcolm was practically bouncing on his toes in excitement; he hadn't been off the ship since Denobula, and was keen on getting a piece of the action in this next away mission. He and Alira were engaged in spirited debate in one corner of the room, no doubt bickering about something like MACO selection or guard rotations.

Hoshi was teasing Trip about once again being relegated to keeping watch over the ship while they were planetside; he countered by explaining that someone had to keep things from falling apart while they were rubbing elbows with ambassadors. It was significantly less preferable than spending his day in engineering, he argued, but at least he could catch up on water polo while he waited for something to happen.

Lieutenant Cutler was among the last to arrive, seemingly dead on her feet after spending all night on the bridge, toting a massive thermos of coffee. She nodded at her CO's and took a seat next to Lieutenant Kov, propping her elbows onto the table and placing her face in her hands.

"Please tell me I'll have time to catch some sleep before the reception," she said to no one in particular.

Kov shook his head, gently pushing a PADD into her line of sight. "We've synced our chronometers to their capital city. It's already well into the afternoon. The reception is scheduled to begin in three hours' time."

Without even glancing at it, she pushed the PADD back towards him. Kov clasped his hands together and treated them to a Vulcan smile, which rather looked like the sort of look one would give someone when they passed them in the corridor, but didn't quite remember their name. "I'm delighted to have been chosen for this mission. This will be my first encounter with the Rigelians."

"You and Lieutenant Cutler were chosen for this mission due to your scientific aptitude. One of the leading Rigelian scientists has developed a hull plating component which is purported to protect humanoid species from spatial disturbances and the associated background radiation. They have offered to share this technology with us," the Captain explained.

Liz visibly perked up at this. "You can count on us, ma'am. You've got the dream team right here." She held up her hand and was met with a look of confusion.

"It's a high-five. You're supposed to hit it."

"Oh!" He exclaimed, completing the gesture. "Yes. Dream team."

"Good deal," Tucker said, "We'll be able to fly through the Expanse and hardly get a scratch on us."

"Don't even joke about that," Archer admonished with a wry grin, nodding towards Hoshi.

Lieutenant Sato stood and approached the viewscreen, pulling up a schematic of the system. "I should probably start with letting you all know that there are three different species of Rigelians. We're orbiting Rigel V at the moment, which is the ancestral home of the Jelna. They were represented at the first set of Coalition talks."

She swiped right to two images of officials taken at the conference. "These are Magistrate Norat and Ambassador Itan. Itan is also the leader of their governing body, and calls most of the shots."

The Jelna were a humanoid race with distinctive markings. Two black lines in a diamond formation bracketed their nose and mouth, with yellow markings stretching from the center of their faces out to their hairlines. Their hair was a curious mixture of blonde and gray, with two heavily beaded and braided strands hanging down from their temples. Each wore a mustard-colored tunic with a high collar and a lattice structure of beads which covered their upper bodies.

"They have four genders that we know of, and our information on pronouns is somewhat limited. Unless you hear someone referenced a specific way in conversation, I recommend referring to our delegates with the gender-inclusive they."

The next image was another humanoid with slightly pointed ears, appearing virtually indistinguishable to the average Vulcan. "The Zami are native to Rigel IV, but in the past thousand years or so have also colonized Rigel V. They're considered by the Jelna to be an inferior race and will not be represented at the talks, though they are also warp capable, and an abundance of their scientists are housed in the government compound we're visiting today."

"This must be their doctor," Liz guessed.

"It is," Hoshi confirmed, "His name is Dr. Sitana. He's their foremost expert in defensive shielding. The Rigelian Trade Commission has been using his services to upgrade their ships following their encounter with the Romulan marauder last year."

Although not fondly, Jonathan remembered a warrant for his arrest being issued after the attack. He was glad the Rigelians had ultimately been understanding, and had agreed to share their technology to fight their common enemy.

"There's a third species of Rigelian, the Chelons, but I suspect they're not interested in these negotiations. The NX-04 Phoenix tried to make first contact with them on Rigel III a couple weeks ago and were unsuccessful."

"Define unsuccessful, Lieutenant," T'Pol requested.

"Captain Al-Shahrani and his away team were driven back to the shuttlepod within seconds of arrival, and the craft was almost lost with all hands."

"I'd call that unsuccessful," Trip said, nodding sagely.

"Are they humanoid?" Liz asked.

"Cold-blooded. Think the Xindi Reptilians, but tortoise-like and with opposable thumbs. Apparently there's a subspecies of Zami that live on Rigel VII called the Kalar. We've been warned by Dr. Sitana to stay out of their territory at all costs," Hoshi explained.

"Sounds like a job for another crew," Archer remarked, "What about the Ktarians?"

"They're secretive, all right." Sato pulled up an image of their delegates, a man and a woman, who were both red-headed, with foreheads that were split into two distinct lobes. Their eyes were bright yellow, and their pupils were oriented horizontally, giving them a curiously sharp look. "Rigelians are the only species to have visited Ktaris, and they routinely engage in trade together, but they are still mistrustful of other humanoids. So much so that they've traveled fifty light years to attend these talks so they wouldn't have Starfleet flying through their system."

"We know very little of their motives for joining the Coalition. It is of utmost importance that we get them to open up to us," the Captain added.

Hoshi nodded. "Here we have Senators Jlaris and Bilar. There will be hundreds of other territorial representatives and traders there, but that covers everyone that will be seated at the main table."

Archer turned to Alira. "Ensign, what's security looking like for tonight?"

Alira sighed and slid her PADD across the table. "Well, Commodore, we're going to be stretched pretty thin. It will take almost every MACO we have to cover the complex. Lieutenant Commander Reed and I will be covering the banquet hall and atrium along with Cole and Chang. I sure hope no Klingons or Romulans decide to pay Enterprise a visit while we're planetside."

"I'll get a sign made and drape it across our bow," Trip joked, spreading his hands out in front of him. "Attention all hostile races: we're closed for business. Come back later."

"We'll have someone manning the transporter all night just in case we need an emergency beam out," Archer assured her, handing the PADD back. "I'm sure I don't need to remind you all how important this mission is. We're in an unfamiliar region of space, surrounded by species we don't know all that well yet. I need everyone operating at top form."

He was met with a chorus of nods around the table.

---

The security contingent came down first in Shuttlepod One; it was going to take multiple trips to bring all of the MACOs planetside, so Travis took off just as soon as everyone had disembarked, leaving them in front of a tall building whose facade quite reminded Malcolm of a medieval castle.

That was a gross oversimplification, he decided, but it did have a wide stone outer curtain that prevented them from viewing the grounds, towers at both corners, and wide crenellations atop the roof, between which he half expected to see someone firing arrows. There were wide, rectangular windows traversing the front of the building, affording them a glimpse of the sparsely lit reception halls within. Sparing a look around, he discovered that many of the buildings surrounding them looked similar, with varying degrees of height and width.

Alira led the charge towards the main gate, and he was right on her tail. A half dozen MACOs followed behind them, phase rifles strapped across their backs.

She was walking strangely, stiff legged, like something was preventing her from taking a full step. Finally, as they joined the line for inspection, she threw her hands up in exasperation. "Humans have been wearing tights for centuries. I'd think you all would have found a way to make them comfortable by now."

She, like a majority of the female officers assigned to the away team, had chosen the dress uniform option that included the knee-length skirt. Regardless of the fact that they had to wear black hose, they insisted it was more comfortable than trousers. As they waited in the bay for the shuttle to be prepared, Alira had hiked up her skirt to her mid-thigh and told the girls that she'd willingly switch over from her coveralls if a shorter option was available for normal duty. Hoshi had agreed. Maybe one day that'll be standard, Liz had said with a laugh, though she wouldn't count on it. Give the brass about a hundred years to catch up.

"I hope it's not this hot inside," he said, pulling at the collar of his jacket.

"You should have gone with the skirt. It's a whole lot less stuffy. We almost convinced Lieutenant Kov to wear his."

"Why?"

"Just to see if we could. You've got to admit, he's got the legs for it," she said with a laugh, stepping up to the inspection station, where a Zami Rigelian was waiting.

"I need to see all of the weapons you're carrying," he demanded.

"Of course. There's really no need, though. We're private security for the Earth delegation." Alira treated to him to one of her trademark disarming smiles and set the phase pistol that had been strapped to her waistband on the table.

The Rigelian turned his scanner towards her, pressed a few buttons, and his frown grew deeper. "I said all of them."

Alira sighed and removed another phase pistol, then what he assumed was a Denobulan blaster.

"Don't make me tell you again."

To his surprise, she reached underneath her jacket and produce a small dagger, a set of brass knuckles, a handful of throwing stars, and curiously, an Andorian ushaan-tor.

Finally satisfied, the Rigelian performed his cursory scan of the items, then waved her ahead. Alira gathered her bounty in her arms and stepped through the gateway, muttering, "Some people are just so particular…"

---

Once they'd received the all clear from the surface that the banquet hall was secure, the diplomatic delegation came down from orbit.

Hoshi was making last minute adjustments to the UT. Every few minutes, she would say something into her tricorder, and listen as the hundreds of devices tucked in her pack repeated it back to her as one. She was determined to ensure that if the negotiations were to go south, it wouldn't be because of a simple miscommunication.

She said the same word into the receiver for perhaps the fiftieth time, paused, then lifted the bag up to her ear. Shaking her head, she dropped it onto the deck plating and returned to her translation matrix, hastily punching commands into the interface.

"Hoshi, I'm pretty sure you've got that word down," Cutler teased. She was standing towards the back of the craft, grasping the handrail as the shuttlepod made its final descent into the city.

"What does it even mean?" Kov turned in his seat to look at her. During the ride, he'd barely been able to contain his excitement, asking the Captain increasingly in-depth questions about the Rigelians.

"The Jelna word for ambassador keeps translating to the Zami word for…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "I've been trying to get them phonetically different enough for the UT to pick it up."

"The Zami word for what?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Really, I'm curious."

Hoshi sighed and handed her tricorder to Elizabeth, silently bidding her to complete the explanation. She studied the screen, then realization hit her. "Oh! It's like humans would call someone a son of a bitch." There was a pause, then: "Actually, calling someone a prick would be more accurate."

"A what?"

"It's a-" Liz began, then laughed nervously. "A severe insult."

"Ah!" Kov exclaimed. "Perhaps that's by design."

At the helm, the Captain and the Commodore exchanged a meaningful look. Jonathan decelerated the craft quickly and lowered them to the surface with as much grace as he could manage; the lawn was a minefield of various shuttlepods of mostly unknown origin. Once he started the engine shut down sequence, he turned around and asked, "What do you mean by that?"

He shrugged. "Just that it's a distinct possibility the Jelna ambassadors have done wrong by the Zami people in the past. It's very easy for slang to enter the vernacular, similar to the Vulcan word for human."

Jonathan froze, looking towards T'Pol. "And what's Vulcan slang for human nowadays?"

"It is of no consequence," she answered quickly, standing and opening the hatch.

"No, no, I wanna hear this," he called out as they followed her onto the lawn, squinting into the late afternoon sun.

As usual, Kov was eager to help. "It's the same word you would use to describe a petulant, difficult child."

"Well, Lieutenant, I had no idea you felt that way about us."

"Not you specifically, sir," he assured him as they joined the line to pass through the security checkpoint.

Once they were through the gates, they were introduced to their delegates among a magnificent garden filled with flowering trees and Grecian columns.

Ambassador Itan stepped forward and greeted them, clasping their palms together and bowing slightly. Archer mimicked the gesture, and once he did, the ambassador reached forward and gave him a good old-fashioned handshake.

"It is an honor to meet you again, Commodore. Welcome to Rigel V."

"The honor is all mine, Ambassador. Magistrate." He bowed towards Norat, who stood to one side with their arms folded across their chest deferentially.

"I do hope that you will enjoy tonight's proceedings. We have representatives here from every sector in which the Rigelian Trade Commission operates, as well as local government officials from all strata of Jelna society. Tonight we eat, drink, and celebrate, and tomorrow we will proceed with the ritual sacrifice," Itan explained with a smile on their face, looking slightly startled at their guests' shocked expressions.

"Here, Ambassador. Try this one," Hoshi said in their language, reaching into her pack and producing of Enterprise's UTs. They nodded gratefully and slipped it into their pocket, switching off their old translator.

"Tomorrow we'll proceed with the negotiations," they clarified, to the relief of the away team.

Behind Liz, Kov whispered, "Now there's an interesting linguistic quirk."

Itan proceeded to introduce the Captain and the Commodore to the Ktarian senators. They wore identical gray uniforms that rather reminded Liz of ski suits, covering them from the tips of their fingers to their toes to the bottom of their chins in some sort of flexible armor. Their expressions were perfectly impassible, their postures rigid and straight. They seemed to not look at the Rigelians, but through them.

The moment the Ambassador spoke Senator Bilar's name, it was as if a switch flipped in her mind. She stepped forward and shook Archer's hand, running her other hand up his arm flirtatiously as she said, "Commodore, I'd say that I traveled fifty light years just to meet you, but that wouldn't exactly be the truth."

"We also wanted to get a piece of these negotiations," Senator Jlaris added, suddenly becoming a hundred times more congenial. He beamed at Hoshi, and to her surprise, winked.

"I understand that trading privileges in this quadrant is a primary concern for both of your governments." The Captain was making an attempt to gain purchase in the conversation. "To thoroughly address the issue, we'd like to speak to other species in this sector. Are there any Zami or Chelon officials we could-"

"Such matters are beyond them," Magistrate Norat insisted, changing the subject back to the evening's proceedings.

As her COs continued to rub elbows with the Jelna, Liz noticed another man standing behind and to one side of the Ambassador. He was a full head shorter than any of the other delegates, bald, with pointed ears and a harried, nervous expression. She instantly recognized him from the earlier briefing. Not meaning to cause a scene, she quietly broke off and went to shake his hand.

"Dr. Sitana, I presume?" She asked with a smile.

He seemed shocked that she wanted to speak to him, but quickly returned her greeting. As if on cue, the delegates turned to her, and the conversation ceased.

"I see you've met my science officer. This is Lieutenant Kov, one of our engineers. They'll be working with you to reconfigure your hull plating technology to the Enterprise's specifications," the Captain explained.

"I look forward to it," he assured them. Taking notice of the sour looks being thrown his way by the Jelna, he stepped aside and gestured towards a side entrance. "If you'll just follow me."

As they walked away, Liz glanced over her shoulder, watching Hoshi move off with Senator Jlaris, presumably to distribute their UTs to the delegates, and the Captain and the Commodore being led farther into the garden, around the corner and out of sight.

---

The reception was well underway when Malcolm found Alira positioned in the corner of the room, nursing a drink with a scowl on her face. He supposed he should be scolding her about drinking on duty, but that was one of the eccentricities seemingly shared by all the Denobulans he'd ever met: they were constantly eating or drinking something.

The Commodore was presently engaged in conversation with Senator Bilar of Ktaris, who was reciprocating his interest as if he was the only man in the room. He followed her gaze to the refreshment table, where the Captain stood, sporting a much less noticeable but still apparent frown.

"I don't trust Bilar," Alira grumbled, "She keeps touching him. She's got room in those sleeves to conceal a knife or two. If she does it again, I might have to cut her."

"The Captain might beat you to it," he remarked, watching how her eyes kept drifting in his direction while only half-heartedly holding conversation with some Jelna Rigelian delegates.

A waiter passed by them toting a platter of glasses full of some kind of neon green liquid. Alira swiftly deposited her half-empty glass and retrieved a new one, downing it in one gulp.

She pulled a face. "That was vile."

Malcolm shook his head, making a quick survey of the festivities. A band had struck up in the corner, using unfamiliar instruments to play something that sounded quite like mid-century Earth jazz. He could barely make out Chang stationed at the entrance of the great hall, and Cole standing towards the back exit.

Before he could react, a veritable parade of Zami Rigelians entered the hall, ringing bells, carrying massive platters of food over the heads. From such a distance, he could barely make out heaping plates of fruits and vegetables, as well as what appeared to be a boar roasted whole. It felt like a medieval feast was about to begin.

The attendees were starting to drift towards their seats, and their delegation was moving towards the main table at the end of the hall. He nodded towards Chang, who began to move to initiate their hourly sweep of their assigned sections.

"Care to accompany me, Mr. Reed?" She asked without preamble, and began to move to cross paths with the approaching MACO.

He supposed he didn't have a choice. Jogging a bit to catch up with her, they exited the hall and came into the atrium of the structure, which was much less well lit. Together they checked waste receptacles, drawers in cabinets, and virtually every nook and cranny in the room.

They moved into a hallway which circled the banquet hall on all sides. Every couple of meters, there was a token of historical significance, a holoimage of a famous Jelna from centuries past, a sculpture, and even a full set of blast repellant armor.

"I should have brought a torch," he said.

"What do you mean?"

"This kind of reminds me of a medieval castle. I've been thinking about it all night."

"Earth's medieval period is fascinating," she admitted, removing her tricorder and using it to scout ahead of the dimly lit hallway.

"What do you know about those times?"

"Well, I've seen The Princess Bride."

He laughed. "Of course. Ladies' night. That's mostly a fairy tale, you know."

"I know that!" She cried defensively, bending down to inspect a display cabinet. Malcolm turned away and began to study the holoimage of what looked suspiciously like a dragon on the wall. "You know, Denobulan children are told similar stories of fanciful creatures by their parents."

"Really? Like what?"

"Well, there's a legend similar to your Rumpelstiltskin, except the troll spins straw into…" Her voice trailed off.

"Into what?" He turned, noticing how she had seemingly frozen in place. Taking a step forward, he beheld wide eyes and panicked expression.

Just a few centimeters out of her reach was some kind of blinking device, with a screen displaying a countdown.

It was impossible. How could they have missed it?

"Tricobalt charges. Enough to level this entire building." She gestured towards the wiring disappearing into the wall.

"Where do those wires lead?" He asked. In the space of a millisecond, both of them came to the same realization.

"We've got less than a minute."

Before he could react, she took off running towards the banquet hall.

---

Archer was engrossed in a rather animated discussion with Ambassador Itan when he was distracted by something in his peripheral vision, moving very quickly in their direction.

Ensign Taxa was sprinting across the banquet hall, her legs and arms cutting the air, her expression one of pure terror. She was followed shortly by Lieutenant Commander Reed.

"Run! Get out of here! There's a bomb!" She screamed, and was subsequently drowned out by the chorus of one hundred UTs scattered around the room. The assembled delegates began to panic; some made a beeline for the exit, while others seemed frozen in fear.

As they arrived at the head table, Alira pushed the Ambassador aside roughly, and together she and Malcolm overturned the table.

Dishes and tableware went flying, shattering all over the floor. Sure enough, a small metallic device was secured to its underside, outfitted with a mess of wires and a series of blinking lights.

Alira looked up at them, panic in her eyes. "Run! Get away from here!"

"Ensign-"

"I said go!" She shouted over the chaos around them, whipping out her tricorder and examining the device.

Archer didn't need to be told once more. Seizing T'Pol's hand, he pulled it roughly, dragging her off the dais and into the great hall.

"How much time?"

"Less than 30 seconds."

"I believe this is the ignition," she said, seizing a red wire on the end.

"Worth a shot," he mumbled, realizing how hopeless their situation was. He could hear screaming and running over the blood pounding in his ears.

After first attempting to pull it out, she bent down and severed the wire with her teeth, which only caused the device to beep faster. They had less than ten seconds.

"Stand back!" She shouted, leaning forward to cover the device with her body.

In that moment, Malcolm made a split second decision. Grabbing her by the shoulders, he pushed her away, then readied himself to jump after her.

The bomb exploded in that moment, throwing them both against the wall.

Archer and T'Pol were halfway to the exit at the moment of detonation. The moment he heard the fracturing of stone all around him coupled with an incredible rush of heat, he wrapped his arms around his companion and pulled them both to the ground, covering her with his body.

He wasn't sure how long he was unconscious, but upon waking, he was greeted with tremendous ringing in the ears. Immediately he reached for T'Pol, feeling her hands tighten around his forearms. She was shaking like a leaf, clinging onto him for dear life.

The air was filled with dust and debris; both of them were fairly covered. A ceiling beam had fallen on top of them at an angle, seemingly preventing the floor of the upper level from crushing them. As the ringing faded, he became aware that somewhere nearby someone was screaming.

This was a scream of pain he'd only heard a couple of times in his life, most recently when he'd visited sick bay after passing through a series of anomalies in the Expanse, and witnessed an engineering crewman being treated for third degree plasma burns over most of her body.

She hadn't made it.

All around them, people were coming to. He could hear them, but not see them out from under several feet of debris. So he went for the direct approach: "Lieutenant Commander, Ensign, are you okay?"

From very far away, he could hear someone with a very distinctive accent trying to calm the screaming woman. Slowly her cries stopped, replaced by ragged breathing and gasps.

"I'm alright, sir!" Malcolm shouted.

"He's not! He's covered in blood!" Alira yelled.

"Whose blood?"

There was a tremendous pause, then realization hit. "It's my blood! I've been impaled by a piece of metal."

"Mr. Reed, try to hold pressure. Figure out if it's lodged near anything critical."

"She's losing a lot of blood, sir. I don't know if it's going to help."

"Hold tight, Ensign. We're coming to you." Archer fumbled for his communicator, flipping it open. "Away team to Enterprise. We need an emergency beam out."

No response.

"Archer to Tucker."

Nothing.

"Enterprise, respond!"

Finally, Trip's voice came through on the other end of the line, sounding tinny and far away. "What's going on? We're getting hails from all over the complex."

"A bomb just went off, Trip. Ensign Taxa is injured, and who knows how many others. We need transport immediately."

"Acknowledged. It might take some time. There's hundreds of biosigns in that area, and we're going to have to pick you out one by one."

Over by the wall, Malcolm took stock of her injuries. A foot-long cylindrical piece of metal was lodged in her abdomen off to one side, sticking out by several inches in front of and behind her. Her head and shoulders were braced against the wall, legs akimbo, and her entire front was thoroughly covered in what he assumed was blood, thick and richly brown. It was horrifying, truly gruesome, and he immediately wasn't sure if the situation could have anything but a tragic outcome.

Alira was sweating profusely, blinking rapidly as she desperately tried to cling to consciousness. She began to reach for him, but pulled back, holding a hand to her stomach.

"Mr. Reed, have you ever been stabbed?" Her voice sounded strained, pinched.

He shook his head. "Can't say that I have."

"This is much worse," she confirmed, "It's so hot in here. I need to…" She reached for the zipper on her jacket, which she tried and failed to pull down due to her shaking hands.

He seized her hands and gently pushed them against the wall, coming to within a few centimeters of her face. "I need you to listen to me. You can't make any sudden movements. It's going to be difficult to stay awake. I'm going to keep talking to you, and I need you to respond. Do you understand?"

She nodded, and as he watched, a smile teased the corners of her mouth. "To think it only took grievous bodily harm to get you this close to me."

"You're disoriented. You don't know what you're saying," he said, releasing her hands. He made quick work of removing his jacket and pressing it to her wound, leaving him in one of their standard issue black undershirts. Her hands quickly replaced his, bearing down as hard as she could in her weakened state.

Malcolm sat back on his haunches and looked around. They were seemingly backed into a corner with debris on all sides, with ceiling beams, concrete slabs, chairs, and dinnerware stacked high above either of their heads. Most notably was the table where the lead delegates had been seated. The bomb had splintered it and sent half of it shooting towards them, the far end of the table braced against the window. Many panes of the glass had been shattered, the sunlight streaming through casting light onto the dust in the air.

"I'm serious, you know. I know what I'm talking about."

"I'd say we have bigger problems at the moment." His eyes were drawn to the base of the table, where through the dust he could barely make out the steadily blinking light of another incendiary device.

---

Liz was in the far corner of the building when the bomb went off. One moment, she'd been walking with Kov and Dr. Sitana, discussing his work, his home world, and the circumstances that had brought them to the conference, then the next, her vision was overtaken by a sudden bright flash of light and the ground seemed to fall away from her.

When she came to, she was immediately overwhelmed by a pounding headache. It felt like someone had wrapped a belt around her head and was tightening it loop by loop, threatening to render her unconscious again. Liz realized she'd been thrown clear across the room; she was presently laying on her stomach next to the base of a computer console. She blinked in an attempt to clear the blurriness from her eyes, barely making out the smudge of red on the metal panel in front of her.

Blood. Blood was dripping down from a massive cut on her forehead into her eyes. She tried to reach for it, but it was as if her limbs could only move in slow motion. Finally she rubbed at her eyes, only to discover that blood hadn't been the source of the problem. Her vision was blurred and she felt dizzy, like she'd just stepped off of a rollercoaster.

Carefully, she rolled over onto her side, if for nothing else than to survey the damage around her, and beheld Kov sitting on the ground a couple meters away, his face in his hands, the sleeves and torso of his uniform torn in multiple places.

She wasn't sure what came out of her mouth when she first tried to speak, but it definitely wasn't English. In a second he was at her side, not entirely sure how to comfort her, but with concern in his eyes. "Elizabeth, it's alright. There's been an explosion, but you're going to be fine."

Fine? He had some nerve saying that. The lights in the room had been cut; only the consoles that ran on emergency power were illuminated. The ceiling had partially collapsed and the floor was littered with debris. Towards the way they'd come, the door and the section of the wall leading into the hallway were knocked down, leaving their only means of escape thoroughly blocked.

What she wouldn't give for an ounce of his Vulcan control right now.

She took a deep breath, mentally running through what she had to say several times before attempting to speak again. "The doctor?"

"Right here. I'm uninjured, for the most part." The reply came from behind her at some distance, but she didn't dare try and roll the other way.

"Are you ready to try and stand up?"

"No, but I guess I need to."

Tentatively, he gripped her arm, pulling her up to a sitting position. A new wave of nausea gripped her stomach and she screwed her eyes shut. Together they stood and Liz attempted a few steps, fixing her gaze on the ground and bidding the world to stop spinning.

Within a few seconds, the nausea became overwhelming, and she leaned forward, vomiting into the far corner of the room. After a few moments, she felt a chair being placed behind her, and she sunk gratefully into it, folding her upper body over her knees.

"I think I'm concussed," she mumbled, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her dress uniform. "I can hardly think straight."

She heard him take out his communicator and repeatedly attempt to hail the ship, the Commodore, the MACOs, anyone. When there was no response, he clapped it shut and admitted, "This is bad."

That was the understatement of the century. "Really, Lieutenant? Which part?"

"I'm glad to see your sarcasm wasn't injured during the detonation. I'd say the fact that we don't know if anyone else in this complex is even alive ranks up there."

"Then what?"

She felt his hands come down upon the top of her chair. "I also promised the doctor I would keep you safe during this mission, and it seems that I have failed to uphold my end of the bargain."

Despite her condition, Liz rolled her eyes. "Phlox has got to stop doing that. He knows I can take care of myself."

"Apparently, none of us have managed to take care of ourselves today."

"T'Pol to Cutler."

It was her communicator. Not leaving her folded over position, she managed to pull it from her pocket and hold it over her head for her companion to collect.

"Kov here."

"Is everything alright where you are?"

"Yes ma'am, in a manner of speaking."

There was a pause. "Lieutenant, I've just spoken with numerous members of the away team positioned throughout the building. This explosion was caused by a time-sensitive device planted in the main banquet hall. It appears that it's connected to numerous bombs in the complex. Reed believes that if one is disturbed, it will cause a chain reaction that will make the other ones detonate in rapid succession."

Cutler was struggling to focus on what she was saying, let alone process the information. "What does that have to do with us?"

"Commander Tucker has isolated your biosigns in a section of the complex believed to be where the main power grid is housed. We need to either disconnect the incendiary devices from main power or shut the entire matrix down."

"And how long do we have before the next one goes off?"

"About thirty minutes."

It was as if all the air had been sucked out of her lungs. Liz wrapped her arms around her knees and squeezed, trying to calm her breathing and keep the room from spinning simultaneously.

"Ma'am, we're not bomb defusal experts. We're also having trouble reaching anyone. What if we need help?"

There was a quiet rush of conversation, then the Commodore spoke. "We're going to have Lieutenant Sato boost communications through the transceiver array in the shuttlepod. In the meantime, we're going to order radio silence to give you the best chance we can. Acknowledged?"

"Yes sir."

"Keep us apprised."

Almost immediately after the connection was closed, Kov whirled around on Dr. Sitana, who was still sitting on the floor at the far end of the room. "Do you know anything about these consoles?"

"I know my fair share."

"Good. Which one of these controls the main power relay?"

"Well, all of them."

"I'm going to need you to be more specific than that."

"I only know about the system insofar as it relates to connecting weapons simulators to test on my hull plating technology. The Jelna love to see me demonstrate it to every single species that comes strolling through the system," he said with a touch of disdain.

"Let's start there. Are you ready, Elizabeth?"

She had no time to respond. Kov took hold of her chair and pulled her across the room to the nearest console; all the while, she was trying not to lose her breakfast once again.

"No time like the present," she mumbled, pulling herself up to a sitting position.

---

Hoshi had been outside on the grounds of the complex when the bomb detonated and blew out the entire front of the building.

She'd been deep in conversation with Senator Jlaris, who had invited her out for a stroll in the garden before the evening meal. He had been an excellent conversationalist, extremely engaging, his every word seemingly coded for maximum flattery. After a while he'd invited her to turn off her UT, and together they'd waded into the exceedingly complex world of the Ktarian language. She made a passing remark about his companion needing his help, but Senator Bilar didn't even spare them a passing glance, as she was currently engaged in charming the Commodore. By the time they made it outside, she'd decided he was quite attractive, even with his unusual reptilian eyes.

He was telling her about Ktarian culture, the foods they ate, the way they socialized, the music they played. Seemingly out of nowhere, he produced a headset from his robe, introducing it as a game played often on his homeworld. When she asked what it did, all he mentioned was that it felt good, and he kept trying to place it on her head. She shied away from his advances and started to steer them back in the direction of the entrance. Her mother had always warned her to trust her gut, and right now it was raising about a thousand red flags.

The explosion came without warning, not even a rumble. One moment she was standing, then the next she was blown backwards, striking her head on the ground.

It could have been a minute or an hour she was unconscious, but the next thing she felt was the ringing in her ears. Something was pressing down on her arm with unbearable pressure. Hoshi opened her mouth and called out for someone, anyone, but couldn't even hear her own voice.

The air around her was thick with dust and debris. Disoriented, she attempted to sit up, but was effectively stopped by the intense pain in her arm. It felt like it was being wrenched out of its socket and trampled underneath a thousand feet. Squinting into the relative darkness, she was able to discern that one of the pillars in the garden had toppled over and pinned her to the ground by the upper arm.

She attempted to wiggle her fingers, which was a herculean task in itself. The pain was immense. To her other side, she noticed Senator Jlaris stumbling to his feet, seemingly unharmed.

"Senator, help me!" She croaked, meeting his gaze.

He was just as disoriented as she was, studying the injured attendees on the ground through the haze. "I need to find my delegation," he mumbled, and stumbled in the direction of the main entrance, which was caved in and blocked with ceiling beams.

"Wait, come back!" Hoshi shouted, waving her other arm about frantically. When there was no response, she shrieked, "Bastard!"

She wasn't sure how much time elapsed before she regained control of her senses. Her heart was racing, her head pounding. Pain was radiating from her shoulder blade out to her fingers, which she could see now were turning blue.

Hoshi was barely aware of her communicator when it went off, but she subconsciously reached for it, having to turn to one side to reach it with her other hand. "Sato here."

"Are you okay, Lieutenant?" It was Trip's voice. She felt a surge of relief, the irrational sense of calm she got whenever he was around.

"I've been better," she admitted, experimentally curling her trapped hand into a fist. "My arm is pinned down. I'm certain it's broken, and my shoulder might have been pulled out of its socket."

"I'm sorry to do this to you. You're the closest to the shuttle. We need you to get there and reconfigure the transceiver array to boost our communications down there."

"Couldn't you beam me aboard? I'm not exactly mobile right now."

There was a long pause. "There's no time. The rest of the away team is trapped inside the building. Cutler and Kov are in there trying to diffuse more than a dozen explosives hooked up to the same power relay. They're having a hard time understanding the armory crew up here."

"Sir, there's no way I could-"

"We need you to try," he insisted. "I'm sorry, Hoshi."

Regardless of the circumstances, she knew he meant it. Gritting her teeth, she rolled over and began to dig at the ground underneath the pillar with her free hand, hoping to gain some purchase and be able to slip her arm out. It was slow going, but eventually she had room to flex her elbow, lowering it into the hole she'd made. A second later, her arm was free, and she was hissing through her teeth to keep from crying out.

It was as if her heartbeat was now in her upper arm. Every time it throbbed, it stole away any coherent thought in her mind. With great effort, Hoshi rolled over and sat back on her haunches, then stumbled to her feet.

Just the feeling of her broken arm swiping against her side was unbearable. Ignoring the initial pain, she clasped her elbow and held it to her chest, shuffling off in the direction they'd come when they arrived.

It took some time to find the shuttle; the garden was full of confused people, either stumbling around or desperately trying to find their traveling companions. She ignored them, focusing on the NX-01 decal encircling the vessel far in the distance. Every step felt like a marathon, but she eventually made it there, opening the hatch and climbing inside.

"Tucker to Sato."

"Sato here. I just made it to the pod."

"It's been almost half an hour."

She recoiled in surprise. "That's impossible. I got here as fast as I could."

"It doesn't matter," Trip assured her, "You're disoriented. It's expected. Can you remember what to do?"

Hoshi sat down heavily in the pilot's seat and looked down at the controls. Her gaze flitted over to her broken arm, the torn fabric of her dress uniform, and the barely visible sign of bone pressing through the skin. Before she could stop herself, she retched, narrowly avoiding vomiting all over the console by a fraction of a second.

"I'm sorry, sir. It feels like the chamber is spinning."

"Ensign Singh is right here. She's going to talk you through it."

There was a pause, and then Dita's even tone cut through the silence: "Hoshi, can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear."

"It's going to be alright. You taught me how to do this only a couple of weeks ago, so we're going to take it slow. Let me know if you need me to repeat myself." There was a slight tremor in her voice. Hoshi knew she was terrified, but trying her best to mask it.

"Ready when you are," she answered, her free hand hovering over the controls.

---

It had been nearly fifteen minutes since they'd last spoken with the Captain, and Malcolm was growing anxious. There was barely room to stand up in their corner of the banquet hall, but he managed, and paced the same three meters over and over again while they waited to receive word that Liz and Kov had disabled the power relay feeding the remaining bombs throughout the building.

"You need to sit down," Alira insisted, "You're stressing me out."

"You seem awfully calm for someone in your situation," he said, watching the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to control her heart rate.

"And if you compare the two of us right now, you've got no room to complain," she chastised, removing one hand from where she'd been holding pressure over her wound, pointing to the ground beside her.

He heaved a massive sigh and joined her. "I don't like this feeling of powerlessness."

"I'd say it's more that you don't like things you can't control."

"So now you're an expert on the inner workings of my mind?"

"You're not that difficult to read, Malcolm."

Even in her condition, she was stubborn as ever. It was infuriating. He dropped his head into his hand, rubbing his temples. "How about we play a game to pass the time?"

"What did you have in mind? I'm afraid I didn't bring my chess board with me."

"Twenty questions."

"What now?"

"You'll catch on," he assured her, "I'll go first. What's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you?"

She appeared to consider this for a moment. "When I assumed my first command posting, I slipped on the deck plating as I walked out to address the crew. Fell flat on my face. Everyone laughed, and they never let me forget it. What's yours?"

"Walked out of a crowded bar on Risa at 0900 hours wearing nothing but my skivvies, with Commander Tucker at my side. Next question."

She wheezed and slapped her thigh several times. "Don't make me laugh, it hurts too bad! I feel like I need more information than that."

"And you'll get it...someday. Next question please."

Alira rolled her eyes. "You humans and your inhibitions. Fine, since you're going to play that way, if you had to take one member of senior staff to bed, who would it be?"

He knew what his answer would actually be, but held his tongue. "That hardly seems appropriate."

"Are we playing or not?"

He made a big show of mulling over the possibilities, stroking his chin and making a gratuitous amount of "hmm" and "uhhh" noises. Finally, he answered with complete confidence: "Lieutenant Mayweather, no question."

"Really?" She was incredulous.

"Of course, have you seen him shirtless?"

"I haven't," she replied regretfully, "Perhaps I've been missing out."

"I've got one for you. Why do all the Denobulan women I've met not look a day over thirty-five?"

This time she really did laugh, holding onto her abdomen for dear life. "It's a blessing. Once we hit about two hundred and fifty, though-" She pointed her finger and pushed it down to the floor, making a swirling motion as she went.

"That bad, huh?"

"It's not a pretty sight. All the signs of aging hit at once."

"I suppose there's no point in asking how old you are, then."

"I'm not shy about that. I'll be ninety next month."

A pause. His gaze flitted over to her lovely face, the smile lines pulling at the corners of her lips, her brilliant blue eyes. It was hard to believe she was older than his gran. "Well, you look good for it."

"Why, thank you! You don't look so bad yourself." She met his gaze and held it for one endless moment.

Suddenly he cleared his throat, deciding to take the conversation in another direction entirely. "I've got another one. What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

She exhaled quickly through pursed lips. "You're going to have to get me drunk to get the answer to that question."

"Can I at least have a hint? Something during your time in the Infantry?"

Alira grimaced, and he wasn't sure if it was due to the invasive nature of his question, or due to the tremendous amount of pain she was under. "I spent a great deal of time guarding the border of our space against invaders, and I wasn't necessarily proud of everything I had to do. There was also an element of personal revenge."

He swiveled around to face her. "I feel like I need to know more about that."

"And you will...someday," she promised, teasing him.

"Next one. Where did you get that ushaan-tor?"

With some difficulty, she reached into the top of her jacket and retrieved it, holding it up. She smiled, seeming to admire how it reflected the light. The last time Malcolm had seen one, Archer and Shran were preparing to duel to the death. "I won it during a bar fight involving an Andorian on a moon of Pernaia Prime."

"Did you kill him?"

"Absolutely not," she admonished him, "Despite appearances, I guarantee your kill count is higher than mine. My superior and I were there to collect a report from an informant, and he grabbed me from behind. What else was I supposed to do but challenge him then and there?"

"Well, if you didn't kill him, how did the duel end?"

"I gained the upper hand and pinned him down, then threatened to cut off both of his antennae. I only got through with one of them before he was crying out for mercy. I kept it as a trophy of sorts, it's in my desk on the Enterprise."

He shook his head. "Remind me never to cross you."

"You've come close to doing so a couple of times, but you've never gone over the line." Though she could scarcely move her upper body, her eyes met his. "So tell me, what are you afraid of?"

His voice died in his throat. He knew it wasn't what she was referring to, but he had to say something. "Large bodies of water, mostly."

She raised an eyebrow, doing a rather convincing impression of the Captain, though he could tell she was amused. "Is that why you never became a Navy man like your father?"

He nodded ruefully. "I'd also like to know…" In the space between them, he felt their hands moving closer together, unbidden, as if he had no control over his actions. When they made contact, he tentatively interlaced their fingers together, watching her expression for a reaction. He knew this was inappropriate, he knew they were actively engaged in crossing the aforementioned line. He also knew that in general Denobulans didn't like to be touched, but clearly there was an exception. "What is the great Alira Taxa afraid of?"

"At the present, bleeding out in some banquet hall hundreds of light years from home," she answered, and together they looked down at her wound. His jacket was now thoroughly soaked through.

"You're going to be fine."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I'm so sure that…" He trailed off, taking in her anxious expression, her ragged breathing, the way her hand felt in his. And he decided to go for it. "I'm so sure that I'd like you to join me for dinner tomorrow night."

"We have dinner together every night."

"Not in the mess hall with the rest of the senior officers. Just you and me. I'll make you dinner in my quarters, and afterwards we can hit the sweet spot."

She pulled a queer sort of expression, and he experienced a fleeting moment of fear that she'd say no. "I'm not sure our relationship has progressed that far..."

Suddenly he realized what that had sounded like, and his face grew tremendously red. "No, no, nothing like that. It's this place on the ship where the artificial gravity field is inverted and you can hang upside down. It's almost like being in zero gravity."

Alira's lips parted slowly in an unbidden grin. Her shoulders lifted slightly as though she wanted to laugh, but couldn't get the sound to come out. "We had something like that on my last posting for zero gravity combat training. I used to hold senior officer briefings there."

"Really?"

"Of course, it's hard to feel offended that your CO is yelling at you when her hair is sticking up in all directions."

He had to smile at that mental image. Alira gently squeezed his hand, and it occurred to him that he could close the distance between them and kiss her, which was suddenly all he wanted to do. He was smitten, which was more than he could have said for any other person in his life over the past few years. All the same, he didn't want to push too far or too fast, so he remained where he was, gently tracing the back of her palm with his thumb.

"Cutler to Reed!"

Liz's voice rang out over the comm, sounding incredibly loud and incredibly urgent. Malcolm reacted like he'd been stung, pulling back from his companion and answering the call with both hands.

"Reed here."

"We've devised a way to deactivate devices one by one and replace the signal from their motion sensors with a low-power infrared pulse," she explained, having to pause every couple of words. There was a pause, then they could hear her sigh on the other end of the line. "I'm sorry, I'm having trouble concentrating. I think I've got a concussion. The room hasn't stopped spinning."

"You're doing remarkably well, Lieutenant. Take your time." Malcolm cut a glance at the timer of the device nearest them, which was down to twenty minutes. "Not too much time though."

"You think so? I've been having plenty of help. Kov and Dr. Sitana are up here too, and we've been holding a channel open with Ensign Nguyen up in orbit. He's been able to simulate how these devices tie into the power grid up there in the armory."

"Good old James," Alira whispered, referring to their steadfast and dependable second.

"How many have you been able to defuse?"

"Four, including yours. There's more than a dozen. These devices steadily draw more power as they near detonation. We believe it's due to the positronic wiring in the-"

"Right, that's all very fascinating, but-"

"What am I doing?" Liz asked rhetorically. They heard a series of beeps and chimes as she set the power grid for transfer. "Are you ready? This process is very involved."

He wanted to remind her that between him and Alira they had plenty of bomb defusal experience, his most notably in the Romulan minefield, and the only thing that was personally preventing him from assisting was their unfortunate positioning when the first bomb had gone off. He held his tongue, though, and slid across the floor to where the device was mounted to the bottom of the table. "Ready when you are, Lieutenant."

It turned out that very involved was an understatement. Liz had him doing the kind of detailed work he wouldn't expect out of a seasoned armory technician, switching wires, swapping transistors, getting up close and personal with the tricobalt containment chamber. When it was over, the screen went dark, and he realized he'd basically been holding his breath for the past ten minutes.

Malcolm sat back on his haunches and pressed his face into his hands. "Looks like we'll live to die another day, Miss Taxa."

He was expecting to hear some sort of smart remark in return, but she offered nothing. Turning back to look at her, he noticed that she was now struggling to breathe, her eyes repeatedly fluttering open and closed.

He was at her side in a second. Slowly, her hand found his, and she mouthed her reply: "I can't speak."

"That's perfectly fine, I can talk enough for the both of us. Squeeze my hand to let me know you're still with me," he said, trying and failing to hide the concern in his expression. He tried in vain to reach the Enterprise, but the comm lines were still jammed. As a last ditch effort, he shouted for either of their COs, with no reply.

"They've probably already been beamed up. I'm sure you're next." She didn't look convinced, so he tried again: "You know, I can say just about anything right now, and you can't argue with me. This must be the comeuppance I've been waiting for from that war games exercise."

She momentarily pulled away, extending her middle finger in his direction.

"Now where did you learn that? Hoshi?"

"STC. I had my fun."

"I read in your personnel file that you were the champion sharpshooter of your division. Did you know that you're the only female officer to have graduated from the accelerated tactical development program so far?" She raised her eyebrows slightly, and he could almost hear her teasing him about having read her files. "I'm sorry that you had to share barracks with fifty men. That must have been miserable."

"Like I said, I had my fun."

This time he laughed. "I know we're all there to learn how to best serve the fleet, but looking back on my time, I wish I had more fun. There might have been one long term attachment, but I mostly kept to myself."

"Long term?"

"Another time, Alira. The point is-"

"Tucker to Reed."

He flinched, suddenly brought back down to earth, suddenly remembering duty, obligation, and propriety. "Reed here."

"We've locked on to Ensign Taxa's biosign. Are we clear to transport?"

He took a look at her, the sickly pallor to her skin, the fear in her eyes, the desperate rise and fall of her chest. "Affirmative. Took you long enough."

"Stand by."

Malcolm snapped his communicator shut and set it aside. "Hear that? You're going to be fine."

"As far as we know."

"I know. And I'll be seeing you at dinner."

She didn't need to say anything. It was all over her face. But she beckoned him forward, closer and closer, until his ear was right next to her lips.

"Can I tell you something?" It was in the barest of whispers. Before he could respond, she added, "Your bedside manner could use a little work, Mr. Reed."

Over the next few seconds, she disappeared behind wisps and spirals of light, leaving Malcolm quite alone in his private corner of the ballroom.

---

"Four down, twelve to go," Liz called out from her console, extending a hand over her head. "Who's next?"

Without hesitation, Kov passed her a PADD, and she bent down to study it, still having to squint to convince her mind to lock onto certain words. "Private Carender, in the building adjoining us to the north. He says it's beneath a small pile of rubble, but he believes he can reach it."

"How long?"

"Nine minutes."

She cursed under her breath. "Doctor?"

From behind her, she could hear the Zami Rigellian scooting his chair along the floor as he moved to the power relay along the wall. "Infrared signal is holding steady at three-fifty gigahertz. I've had to remodulate the frequency parameters more than once to avoid interference from the needs of the emergency power grid, but it should hold."

"We're lucky to have you with us," she admitted.

"Who better to be trapped in a crumbling building with than a theoretical physicist, hmm?" Even though she couldn't see his face, she could hear the amusement in his voice, mixed with something else indecipherable.

"When this is over, Elizabeth, I wouldn't blame you if you slept for a month," Kov said from his posting beside her, where he had been charged with mapping the location and priority of the devices scattered throughout the complex.

It was true that she hadn't slept for two days, now going on three, which wasn't helping her any in the focusing department. Her eyelids were heavy and she felt feverish-both of which were compounding on top of what she was growing more sure of by the minute was a concussion. "After this is over, we better get some kind of medal or commendation on our records."

Something in what he said gave her pause. Carefully, she pivoted her chair in his direction, focusing on a single point on the wall in a bid to stave off her nausea. "Lieutenant, why do you always call me Elizabeth? Why not my rank?"

"Does it bother you? Because I can-"

"It doesn't. I'm just curious."

He frowned, absently tracing the sides of his console. Then, tentatively, as if he was expecting her to scold him, he took a step closer. "It's quite simple, really. I am acquainted with most everyone in the crew, but I believe that you and I are friends." He paused and wiped his forehead on his uniform sleeve; without the environmental controls, it really was quite hot in their section of the building, and they were all sweating profusely. "Throughout my life, I've never had many."

Liz's brow furrowed in concern, and she thought about the tender-hearted man in front of her, his indefatigable positive attitude, his unrelenting work ethic, his well-intentioned attempts to relate to the crew. She knew he'd spent the past year of his life holed up in the High Command compound, constantly fearing a terrorist attack that never came. And before that he'd traversed the galaxy in search of meaning for years with little success, only to return right back where he started.

Slowly, she reached out and laid a comforting hand on his arm. "I'm glad that we're friends, Kov."

There it was again, that very stilted and very Vulcan attempt at a smile. "As am I." He returned to his work momentarily, but something gave him pause almost immediately. "And the other senior officers?"

"They're your friends, too. You know Trip loves you. You're the only one Travis will play basketball one-on-one with anymore. And Alira always looks forward to your weekly nail appointments with her."

"For the record, the work we do in engineering destroys your hands."

She laughed. "You don't need to convince me."

There was a moment of silence, then: "And the Captain?"

"What about her?"

"Have you noticed that she's been acting strangely around me?"

As a matter of fact, she had. Liz would have thought the Captain would jump at the chance to spend as much time as she could with another Vulcan, but in reality, she'd been avoiding him every chance she could. She avoided eye contact during their morning briefings, and made every effort to stand apart from him during social situations. In the unlikely occurrence they did interact, the Captain's replies were markedly more terse than usual. Truthfully, though she considered T'Pol to be a good friend, she didn't know her well enough to give an accurate assessment of the situation. So she settled on a somewhat noncommittal, but very apologetic: "I don't know why that is."

"Oh," he replied, somewhat disappointed. "I was hoping someone did."

"I'm sure it's nothing," she assured him. She began to maneuver back over to her console, suddenly remembering the task at hand. "Private Carender!"

As Liz contacted the next MACO on the list, Kov began a series of well-intentioned but ultimately ill-fated attempts to engage Dr. Sitana in conversation. While the scientist had been jovial and engaging just hours before, he'd become a bit short and closed-off, which she didn't quite blame him for given the circumstances.

By the time she'd finished disarming bomb number five, the doctor had started raising his voice, causing Kov to back off slightly. "I've told you before, I quite enjoy living in the city, I do miss home, and it's certainly an honor to serve the Ambassador." He paused, throwing his hands up in frustration. "For as long as they'll have me, anyhow."

"I meant no offense, doctor," Kov promised him, reaching behind him to hand his companion the next PADD. "Sergeant Moreno is next."

"Lieutenant Kov is fascinated by other cultures, as am I. It's rare that you find two humanoid species living in the same system. I'm interested to know how long the Zami have lived on Rigel V," she said, extending an olive branch in an attempt to salvage the conversation.

"Apparently not long enough," he mumbled, then became louder, as if he suddenly realized there were others in the room. "Around a thousand years. Ever since my people became warp capable, the Jelna have only been too willing to take advantage of our charity."

The two of them exchanged a curious look. "I take it there are plenty of scientists coming to Rigel V to further their research. The Rigelian Scientific Imperium is renowned throughout the quadrant. A couple of my friends from grad school attended classes here."

"Sure, our scientists are welcome here. Everyone else has far less luck." Dr. Sitana looked down at his console. "I apologize, I've forgotten myself. We're standing by on the infrared signal."

"Copy that. Cutler to Moreno."

As Liz explained the rewiring procedure to someone for the sixth time that hour, Kov regaled the doctor with questions about his research into defensive shielding, its applications, and how it might be applied to their vessel. Even in dire circumstances, he was still devoted to the original mission, which she supposed wasn't a bad thing.

Eventually the conversation trailed off and Kov began wandering about the room, holding the PADD mere centimeters from his face, supremely focused on whatever he was reading. Eventually he returned to her side just as she was closing the connection, gingerly sliding the PADD into her line of vision and tapping the screen.

What he'd found in the annals of Dr. Sitana's research was unmistakable: biological variables, neural interaction parameters, ergonomic dimensions. All things that didn't make sense belonging to a purely tactical application.

She didn't have a second to process the information, because in the next moment, her screen lit up in a series of blinking red lights. "We're losing coherence of the infrared signal on device number four. Doctor?"

"A minor power fluctuation," he assured them.

"It's not minor. If it lasts for another two minutes, the sensor will trip and we'll have another detonation. We need to contact-"

Her companion was already on it. "Kov to Reed."

"Reed here."

"Lieutenant Commander, have you been beamed up yet?"

"No, I'm still waiting. Tucker says there's still a half dozen crewmen in this section of the building."

Kov took a deep breath and held it, turning back to her, his eyes wide.

"Lieutenant? What's going on?"

"Stand by." He closed the connection and immediately hailed the bridge, miraculously reaching Ensign Singh on the other end of the line. "We're facing an imminent detonation down here. You must get Mr. Reed out now."

"What's the nature of-"

"Now, Ensign!" He cried, with more emotion in his voice than Liz had heard to date.

Her fingers danced over the console, not even pausing to let the UT tricorder work its magic, praying she understood enough Jelna Rigelian by now that she wasn't causing irreparable damage. "It's a controlled power drain. I believe I can isolate it. It's coming from…"

She trailed off as realization struck her like a lightning bolt. Only one of them had been standing anywhere near there since the first explosion. "Kov, the power relay. Lower right quadrant."

Without a passing thought to her condition, Liz rose to her feet and crossed the room in several long strides, fighting the vertigo that threatened to bring her to her knees. "Dr. Sitana, you're trying to induce a chain reaction of detonations with the devices we've already disarmed. Why?"

He avoided her eyes, looking anywhere but at her. Stepping onto the platform where his console was housed, she seized his arms and pulled him out of his seat without much resistance. "Why?" She demanded.

Finally, he deemed her urgency worthy of a response. "I couldn't let you succeed!"

"I don't understand. You work here. You live here. You…" She clenched down on his forearms with the sum of her remaining strength. "You've got something to do with the plot to destroy this facility! You set this up!"

He pulled away roughly. "You're wrong. I may have been instrumental in the formulation of this plan, but I never touched a single bomb."

"That's right. It had to be someone who was already in the building, who didn't need to go through the security checkpoint." She glanced at her chronometer; they had about sixty seconds to go. "Like the Zami stewards. The guards. The musicians."

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Kov was struggling to circumvent the damage Dr. Sitana had brought to the power relay, but she was afraid to move.

"Why are you doing this? There are countless Zami that live and work in this city. Once the Jelna find out what you've done, they're going to-"

"They're not going to find out, because we're all going down when this building goes down." He came from around the console and approached her, speaking with urgency. "There's no equality in this system. They treat us as lesser thans, even though we're just as capable. They refuse to allow us equal representation in their council chambers and in their courts. They only take our resources, take our scientists, take our opportunities. There's only one way for us to take control of our destiny."

"Surely there's other ways you can go about this. You could protest, you could approach your legislature-"

He laughed suddenly, coming to within centimeters of her, but not touching her. "Your optimism is admirable, though misguided. We need to send a decisive message to the Jelna. There's no better time than with all of these military officials, tradesmen, and diplomats in one place. We've tried the way of peace before. It got us nowhere."

"So you plan on resorting to violence," Kov called out from the other end of the room, making quick work of the power relay with the thirty seconds they had remaining. "I've seen those specifications on your PADD. Those shielding modifications are better suited to body armor than a starship. You want to use their own technology against them. You want to make soldiers."

"Believe me, if there was any other way, I wouldn't have gone to such lengths to conceal my intentions." He paused and looked away. "I wouldn't have gone to such lengths to ensure every single device would detonate tonight."

"I've got it!" Liz didn't so much as turn around, though she heard him rise to his feet, and Kov was at her side immediately.

"It's over, Dr. Sitana," she said, reaching for her communicator in her pocket, only to be stopped by him grabbing her by the forearm.

"You'll never understand unless you find yourself in a position like mine," he whispered. Neither could miss the tears in his eyes.

She pulled away gently. "I may never understand what your people have gone through, but it's not my place to condemn you. Just allow us to contact our starship. You can explain the situation to our COs. Our Commodore can advocate for you."

"It won't work. The Jelna will execute us, the lot of us that were involved here tonight. Please, Lieutenant, the rebellion cannot die here."

"If every Zami feels as strongly as you do, I guarantee that it won't," Kov said quietly, "But there cannot be anymore bloodshed here tonight. I'm sorry."

He shook his head and began to back away, suddenly rushing back to his console, presumably to trigger another signal shortage. Kov dashed after him and incapacitated him with a swift pinch to the neck, catching him and lowering him to the ground in one fluid motion.

The two of them looked at each other for one endless moment, then Liz turned away and asserted, "Sergeant Moreno is next."

Behind her, she heard the chirp of a communicator. "Kov to Tucker." He paused, as if unsure how to describe the scene that had just unfolded around them. "We've got a situation down here."

---

Malcolm high-tailed it to sick bay as fast as he possibly could. As predicted, there was a long line to get through decon, and an even longer line leading to triage. He was one of the lucky ones; nothing was wrong with him except for some scrapes and bruises, which meant he had to wait for what seemed like hours. As he broke free from the science crewman serving as the field medic, he hurried past a seemingly endless row of MACOs with broken limbs and contusions, bursting into the doctor's domain with no hesitation.

Every bed was occupied, as well as makeshift cots spread out across the floor. There was scarcely room to walk. The first person he saw was Lieutenant Sato standing off to one side with her arm in a splint, looking as if a sudden gust of wind could blow her over.

"Hoshi," he called out, coming to her side. She glanced up at him and offered a weak smile.

"Malcolm," she whispered, taking hold of his arm with her free hand. "I'm so glad you're safe."

"Is it bad?"

"Shattered humerus. I'm told I'll receive osseous regeneration therapy once the doctor is available. In the meantime he's pumped me full of painkillers. I've been ordered to go back to my quarters and rest, but at the moment I'm not sure I could walk without falling over."

"Give me a minute. I'll walk you back."

"Thank you," she said, nodding towards the back of the room. "She's in the corner. Third from the right."

He gingerly sidestepped the crewmen sitting on the floor and headed in that direction. Phlox's voice gave him pause, and he stopped at an opening in a drawn curtain.

Lieutenant Cutler was propped up on the biobed, squinting at the light, looking very drowsy and very confused. The doctor stood to one side, gingerly wiping at the mess of dried blood covering her hair and forehead with a towel.

"You've done well, my beloved," he said, "We've had no casualties. Without your intervention, it could have been a lot worse."

"Tell Kov I couldn't have done it without him," she whispered, so faintly he could barely hear her.

"I won't forget," he promised. "You need to rest now. I'd like to keep you here overnight."

As he approached with the hypospray of sedative, she pushed it to one side, offering him a soft smile. "Doesn't this remind you of how we met?"

"How so?"

"I came in here after we got doped up on that psychotropic pollen on the first M Class planet we ever set down on. I was half delirious. I didn't know what I was saying."

"You agreed to be my field medic right then and there. Imagine if you hadn't."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she assured him, finally allowing herself to receive the injection.

Phlox waited until she had closed her eyes, and then in a rare moment of tenderness, took her hand and held it for a few seconds before laying it back down at her side.

He turned towards the center of the room and Malcolm took a big step out of his line of sight, suddenly embarrassed that he'd witnessed such a private moment. Seconds later the doctor exited the curtain, greeting him with a curt nod, businesslike as usual.

"How is she?"

He sighed and glanced at his feet. Malcolm briefly wondered if he'd ever had to treat family members with life threatening injuries before, or if this was an exceptional case.

"The projectile missed a critical artery by less than five centimeters. I've reconstructed her internal organs as best as I could and closed the wound, but I've taken the liberty of inducing her sleep cycle a few days early so she has time to heal."

Malcolm nodded silently and stepped past him, prepared to enter the makeshift room, only to be stopped by the doctor's caveat: "She was asking about you before I put her under sedation."

"What did she say?"

"She asked me to tell you that dinner will have to wait about a week."

In spite of himself, he smiled, and ducked behind the curtain.

Alira was resting quietly with her hands folded across her stomach, a serene smile gracing her features even in her sleep. Glancing up at the monitor, he confirmed that her biosigns were stable. On the counter next to her head, the projectile that had nearly been her demise was wrapped up in a clear biohazard bag. He knew, just as well as her half-father did, that she was more than likely to take it for a trophy.

He stepped closer, noticing how her eyelids were twitching. Gingerly, he reached out and moved a lock of hair out of her face, which had fought its way out of her bun during their struggle planetside. His fingers traced the curve of one ear and came to caress her cheek with impossible tenderness.

To his surprise, she leaned into his touch, and her unbidden smile widened. He wondered what she was dreaming about.

"I told you that you were going to be alright," he whispered after a few moments. "Sweet dreams, Alira."

---

That next evening, T'Pol found herself tracing her steps, following the unmarked path to a place she'd been a hundred times before.

Her mind was a mess of unresolved tension, scrambled memories, and intrusive thoughts. She hadn't meditated since before they'd arrived on Rigel V, and she was on her last nerve. The explosion, the screams of her crewmen, the creaking of the building superstructure as it threatened to fall around them...they all kept playing in her head, over and over, not to mention what she'd witnessed the moment they beamed back up.

She supposed it was innocuous enough, and ultimately inconsequential, but she had stood at the transporter pad for as long as she could, directing traffic and silently counting the crew as they came aboard. She had to make sure they were all alive.

Lieutenant Sato came up somewhere in the middle of the throng, clasping her arm to her side. Almost out of nowhere, Commander Tucker was there, holding her face with two hands, asking over and over if she was okay, if she needed anything, if he could walk her down to sickbay. She refused, but thanked him with as sweet a smile as she could muster, and allowed him to hold her to his chest with the utmost care. And T'Pol had suddenly understood why their bond had lapsed on its own, why they were no longer in each other's heads.

His heart had already belonged to someone else.

She supposed she should have known. She was happy for them, because they were dear and treasured friends. But now that chapter in her life was finished, and she needed to go where she was loved.

She found Jonathan in his quarters, dressed for bed, waiting for her. Not a second after she passed through the door, he was on his feet and walking towards his desk. "Want something to drink? You look like you need it."

She wasn't sure if it was meant to be an insult, but she knew it was probably true. They had spent all day speaking with various diplomats and lawmen, attempting to sort out the circumstances which had led to the bombing at the Coalition talks. The Jelna were suddenly ready to declare war on the Zami, and they'd had to pull some strings to talk them down off the precipice and ensure a series of negotiations would take place at a future date in a neutral location.

T'Pol approached the window and studied her reflection, the tiredness in her eyes and the forlornness in her expression. She held out her hand and was passed a wine glass, as was their ritual.

Jonathan joined her at the window. They stood together for some time, studying the great circle of Rigel V far below.

"I've been thinking about the Zami," she said quietly, breaking their companionable silence.

"Oh?"

"As a general rule, I do not consider violence a viable form of enforcing change. But given the circumstances, I understand why they would feel the need to resort to it."

"A thousand years of prosecution will do that to any group of people," Archer replied.

"I wonder what will happen to Dr. Sitana."

"He'll probably be executed for his role in the bombing."

Her eyes narrowed, and she passed the glass into her other hand. "I've passed word of the Zami's predicament on to Admiral Gardner. With any luck, they will officially be recognized and invited to the next series of negotiations."

"Ambassador Itan isn't going to like that."

"It does not matter," she insisted, "There's a saying among melders on Vulcan. Prejudice never disappears, it just lies in wait for its next opportunity."

"Humans have a similar saying," he admitted.

She was silent for quite some time. When she finally spoke, it was barely above a whisper. "I believe I finally understand why we've come out here."

"Why's that?"

"This Coalition exists to unite us all. Eventually, one day, we will all stand together as one. Until then-"

"We have to seek out everything counterproductive and eliminate it wherever we can."

"Precisely."

"I'll drink to that."

She met his invitation to clink their glasses together, and they drank, once again descending into companionable silence.

Outside the window, the helm implemented a course correction, setting them on what would be a six-week journey to the Coridan system. As they watched, Enterprise gently peeled out of orbit and came about, exposing the enormous plane of distant stars set ahead of them. They jumped to warp almost immediately, causing the space around them to bend and distort.

Just as they reached a comfortable cruising speed of warp five-point-one, Jonathan reached for her, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her closer. At first she stiffened, like she was meaning to pull away, but then she reciprocated the gesture, tucking her head into the crook of his neck.

They remained that way for some time, relishing in each other's company, watching the stars streak by the window of their own little world.

End of Episode Five

---

Next time on Enterprise...

Episode Six: The City of Night

The Enterprise makes first contact with a familiar telepathic species, but the Romulan game is afoot. Kov and the Captain come to an understanding. Alira tests the waters, in more ways than one.