Disclaimer: I still don't own Star Trek.

Tucker felt numb.

He sat on the end of a biobed in Sickbay, listening to the muted voices of Phlox and Crewman Cutler behind the curtains portioning off one corner of the room. Behind those curtains a life-and-death struggle raged, and there was nothing he could do but pray.

Covan, still streaked in lines of ash and sweat, his uniform covered with grime and lightly singed in one or two spots where sparks had landed on it, sat on the floor against the biobed next to Tucker's. The Andorian, who as a Chief of Security had received basic medical training prior to his posting, had personally examined the remaining members of the security detail. Thankfully, none of them were injured beyond mild bruising and one first-degree burn from a disruptor bolt passing too close for comfort. Covan had dismissed them to their quarters with orders to speak to no one about the away mission until they had explicit permission from him to do so. Afterwards, he'd apparently not had even the energy to lift himself onto a biobed.

Much as he disliked the Andorian, Tucker had to admit to himself that Covan had done well. It was the first time he had seen the man under real pressure, and Covan had certainly proved himself capable of his job.

He's more capable to lead a security team than you, Tucker told himself. He hadn't even seen Alex go down. He had assumed the others were with him as he fled the burning building – an assumption which, if not for Covan, would certainly have led to Alex's death.

Not that his survival was by any means guaranteed now.

The hand scanner lay on the floor next to Covan, its frozen display still showing a single human life sign. Tucker stared down at it with the bitter taste of despair in his mouth. They had been so close to finding Reed. They had been within half a mile. Now, it was doubtful they would ever find any conclusive answer about his fate. A fire as large and hot as the one that had destroyed the slave market would not leave behind enough evidence for positive identification, even supposing they could search every inch of the ashes with a scanner.

But what other choice could he have made? To go back for Reed, who was probably by then condemned to the flames anyway, would have meant Alex's certain death. No, he could have done nothing else under the circumstances. That did not make the decision easier to live with.

Covan turned the scanner over onto its face, making Tucker raise his eyes to the Andorian's.

"You did the right thing, Commander." Covan's voice was slightly slurred with tiredness, but there was sincerity in his expression.

Tucker wanted to snap back that of course he had done the right thing, he knew that. He found neither the energy nor the malice toward the Andorian to give a sharp reply. He said nothing.

"It may not even be him," the tactical officer added. "It could be a malfunction. Or perhaps the Orions had some other human."

Tucker shook his head slowly. Either of those were potentially plausible explanations, but he did not believe them even for a moment. Instinct more than reason told him that it had been Reed, trapped somewhere in that damned building. It had been Reed, watching the fire come closer; despairing of escape.

"I'm sorry," Covan said softly. "I know he was a friend of yours."

There was no spite in either the Andorian's words or his face. Instead, Tucker thought he saw understanding. Perhaps Covan was not as oblivious as he seemed to the internal conflict his presence inspired in the engineer. Uncomfortable with the intimacy, Tucker averted his gaze.

"Thanks."

There was nothing either of them could do, now. Considerate as the apology might be, it was worth very little. Tucker would vastly have preferred to find Reed than to make peace with Reed's replacement. He supposed he ought to take what he could get, because that was precious little enough. At the moment, however, he was too numbed to feel any appreciation for Covan's proffered olive branch.

The door of Sickbay swished open, disturbing the relative peace. Archer hurried in, very pale, with a significantly more composed T'Pol at his heels. He stopped short upon seeing Tucker, then had to check an impulsive movement toward him.

"I didn't know who –" he said in a strained voice. Covan hauled himself upright with difficulty and leaned on the biobed for support.

"I apologize, Captain, that was my fault. I should have said sooner, but Ensign Sato patched me through to Sickbay before I thought to."

"It's Alex," Tucker said, answering the more practical question of the moment. "He was shot in the chest."

"Dammit," Archer swore quietly. "Damned –" he glanced around. "Where the hell is S'Trep?"

"Doctor Phlox saw no reason for him to remain in Sickbay for his entire recovery," T'Pol reminded. "He is in Phlox's quarters, since the Doctor rarely requires the use of the room."

"He wasn't lyin', Cap'n."

Archer fixed Tucker with a pained look. "Malcolm?"

In answer, Covan held out the hand scanner. It was still caked with Alex's blood, like the Andorian's hands. Archer stared down at the object as if he were being handed a snake.

"Human biosign," Tucker explained, in a voice that came perilously close to cracking. "He was in that place, Cap'n. I didn't see him, but he was there. Someone started firing and it all went t' hell. Disruptor bolt must'a hit some dry wood or somethin'. Th' whole place went up like a torch. There's nothin' left of it. Nothin'."

Archer raised a hand to his face, then dropped it. "Why were you fired on?"

"It wasn't an ambush, Captain," Covan answered, to Tucker's relief. "At least, not in the sense of anyone waiting for us to show up. The Orions and their – clientele, I suppose – they could tell as soon as we came in that we weren't there for the business they conduct. They saw us as a threat from the beginning. An Orion approached us to ask our business. Commander Tucker tried to explain the situation, but a number of the buyers in the market began to threaten us with weapons. We were leaving when they opened fire."

"I see." Archer glanced toward the curtained corner of Sickbay. Tucker could still hear low voices, though they now came infrequently. He didn't know if that was good or bad. "And Alex?"

"He was shot," Tucker explained, picking up the narrative. "I didn't see it happen." Covan shook his head briefly, indicating that he had not seen the shot, either. "I didn't realise he was down. Covan pulled him out."

"I almost fell over him," Covan admitted. "There was too much smoke to see anything. It was sheer luck that I found him. He was bleeding a lot from the chest. Commander Tucker helped me carry him back to the shuttle."

"Was anyone else hurt?" Archer asked. He seemed at last to notice his officers' weary and dishevelled state. "Are you alright?"

"The others are fine, Captain," Covan assured him. "Just a bit bruised. They're in their quarters."

"We're fine, Cap'n." Physically, anyway.

"I don't think it would be wise to send down another mission," Covan said, shooting an apologetic glance Tucker's way. "Even with this." He indicated the record on the scanner's screen. "I doubt we'd be warmly received."

"I'll take that under advisement." Archer was distracted. He had a hard time looking away from the scanner. "I'd like both of you to go get cleaned up. I want to debrief the whole team in half an hour."

At the moment, the thought of walking back to his quarters, showering, and changing into a clean uniform sounded overwhelming to Tucker. He wasn't even sure he could stand upright, much less do all that. Covan, too, looked like he was only upright through sheer willpower and significant support from the biobed.

Tucker's attention was distracted by movement of the curtains at the other end of Sickbay. Archer turned as Phlox emerged from the partitioned area. Tucker did not manage to catch a glimpse of anything behind the curtains. Archer did not ask, but the unspoken question hung heavy in the air.

"I'm sorry, Captain," Phlox said in a subdued voice. His shoulders were slumped.

So it had been all for nothing, Tucker thought. He would always wonder, now, whether there would have been even the slightest chance of saving Reed, had he made a different choice. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Covan slide slowly back down to the floor from his sagged position against the biobed. Archer's jaw clenched, but he regulated his reaction carefully.

"Thank you, doctor. I'm sure you did everything you could."

After a short, respectful silence, he turned back to the two weary officers. "Thirty minutes, gentlemen," he said quietly.

The task of getting cleaned up no longer seemed too much to ask. Alex had given his life so that the others could have that privilege – so they could return to the Enterprise, clean off the memory of the disastrous mission, and continue on with their lives. Tucker slid off the biobed and offered Covan a hand up. The Andorian's hand was sticky with blood.

"Doctor, if you would make the necessary preparations," Archer said as Tucker and Covan left Sickbay. Alex's body would need to be readied for transportation back to his family on Earth.

"Of course, Captain."

"Thank you."

T'Pol was waiting by the door. Archer turned to go, but on second thought he looked back to Phlox.

"Doctor, was there something you wanted to discuss with me? Something about S'Trep?"

The Denobulan looked faintly puzzled. "I don't believe so, Captain."

"I'm quite sure you did. It was last time I spoke with you, before the away mission. You said something about a contagion he was exposed to on the Orion ship?"

"Ah, that. Just an error on my part, I'm afraid. I'm not familiar with Romulan physiology. S'Trep is quite well. I regret if I caused you concern, Captain."

Archer frowned, the recollection of Phlox's strange words still nagging at him in a way he did not fully understand. It is possible that he may become a danger, the doctor had said. A very odd way to phrase a concern about a pathogen, even a contagious one. He had the distinct impression that there had been more to Phlox's worry which the Denobulan had been reluctant to discuss openly around S'Trep.

"You're sure there was nothing else, Doctor?" The apprehension Archer felt was not relieved when Phlox shook his head in denial.

"Quite sure, Captain."

Reed knew from the moment he saw the dark rage in Entek's face that there would be no negotiation. This unevenly-weighted fight was not something he could talk his way out of.

Unfortunately, the alien had a double advantage. Not only was Reed exhausted and injured, but he was unarmed. Entek held both a disruptor pistol and the control to Reed's electric implant.

If he survived this, Reed thought in the split second of stillness that he had, he would curse himself properly for not taking the implant's control or at least destroying it with the disruptor pistol when he had the chance. He would berate himself for dropping the pistol. He would scold himself good and well for his blatant negligence.

If he lived long enough.

Reed lashed out with a foot and just managed to catch Entek's ankle. His toes crunched painfully against the alien's bony leg and did no damage, but it did at least set his opponent slightly off balance. Entek jumped back a pace with a snarl and fired the disruptor at Reed's head. It was a near miss – the heat scorched Reed's ear – but it was not as near as it could have been and Reed wondered if it had been calculated to miss. He rolled to the side and came upright in a crouch. Deadened muscles slowed the movement and Entek was upon him as he rose. The man pounced upon him and knocked him backward to the ground, pinning him down with the disruptor pistol against his chest. For a second Reed thought he had reached the end of his life, but then Entek leaned back slightly. The pressure on Reed's chest eased.

"Give me your hand. Your right hand," Entek snarled. Reed refused to move. He would not allow his last act to be one of obedience to the word of a slaver. Entek glanced around and raised the pistol to point over Reed's head at something further away. Reed could not see what he was aiming at, but he knew by the direction what it must be, and Fenzin's frightened yelp confirmed his fears.

"No!"

"Your hand!" Entek shouted. Reed lifted his right hand in front of him. Entek pressed the muzzle of the pistol against it.

"I think this is a fair price," the alien hissed. "What do you think? Perhaps I'll even let you live – if you don't try to move your hand away."

The hand in front of the pistol was shaking. It was not until Reed noticed this that he realised how frightened he was. Not for Fenzin, or Ayaila, or the Romulan – he was frightened for himself. He did not want any more pain. His mind told him that to give up his hand to allow the innocent Denobulans even a few seconds more to live was a worthy sacrifice, but in the moment it was one he did not want to make. He wanted to put his hand down, to let Entek shoot the Denobulans, to beg and plead for his life. His heart pounded with fear and the strong beat reminded Reed acutely that he was alive and probably would not be for much longer. The foremost impulse in his mind was to save himself. But even in that terrible second, he was appalled and shamed by his own cowardice. He could not, would not live with himself if he sacrificed someone else to save himself.

It took more out of him to act than he thought he had in him. Reed closed his fingers around the short barrel of the weapon and stared defiantly up into his captor's eyes. Entek's face was a mask of fury as he pulled the trigger.

To say that Admiral Gardner was angry when he heard Archer's report of the events on the Orion planet would have been the understatement of the century. He was positively livid.

Archer understood his point of view, truly. He'd chosen to send an away mission down to a planet inhabited by a species hostile to both the Federation and the Vulcan High Council, in search for an officer who, by all evidence available to the Admiral, had been dead for weeks. In the process, he'd burnt down a building filled with civilians and lost a crewman. Moreover, he had done all this without the necessary permission from his superior. It was that, more than his actions, that angered Gardner. Archer was well aware that he had flirted with the edge of insubordination multiple times in the past few weeks, and this was another such incident. He'd had no business making the call to send down an away mission on such an endeavor without Gardner's approval. But he had been in too much of a hurry – and anyway, it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission. Unfortunately, as he was learning now, that didn't mean that it was easy to ask for forgiveness.

And yet, although his haste had perhaps been ill advised, Archer knew that he had made the right call. All the proof he needed of that was on Covan's scanner and in S'Trep's story. Phlox had examined the scanner data closely and determined that, although he could not say with certainty that the human detected by the instrument was Malcolm, it was certainly an adult male human, not a sensor glitch, and it was not any member of the away team. This information had proved a buffer between himself and Gardner's wrath. The data had arrived safely to the Admiral. Why the Section hadn't intervened was beyond Archer. Perhaps, having got whatever use they could out of him by selling him to the Romulans, they no longer cared what became of him.

Archer had also brought S'Trep to speak with Gardner, and the Romulan explained his story to a panel of Starfleet brass, including the chief of staff, Admiral Roddenberry, and the commander in chief, Fleet Admiral Criech. The Vulcan ambassador to Earth, Sural, was also in attendance. Archer thought the Vulcan looked rather more alarmed at the sight and story of S'Trep than he had any right to. After the Romulan finished his story – which took some time, as Sural questioned him repeatedly – he left to allow Archer to speak with the panel in private.

"The Vulcan High Council will take custody of this prisoner," Sural said as soon as Archer indicated that he was alone in the room. "The Romulans are a dangerous species and an enemy of the High Council. A Vulcan ship will be dispatched immediately to rendezvous with you and take charge of the prisoner."

By the disbelieving stares of the Starfleet admiralty, Archer understood that he was not the only one blindsided by the declaration. Gardner gave a short, mirthless laugh.

"Ambassador, you cannot be serious."

The look he received from the ambassador could have frozen lava. "Vulcans do not joke, Admiral."

"This man is a Starfleet prisoner," Gardner protested. Archer objected.

"S'Trep is not a prisoner, he is a guest. If his story is true – and for the moment, we have no reason to think he is lying – then Starfleet ought to consider him a hero."

Gardner waved away the distinction as if it was unimportant. "But he is in the custody of Starfleet, not the Vulcan High Council."

"I am authorized to speak for the High Council in matters concerning Earth relations," the Ambassador said calmly. "I have already notified the High Council. A warship will be dispatched within the hour. You will surrender this man, Captain Archer."

The threat was scarcely veiled. Archer wondered how Sural could possibly have notified the High Council so quickly until he saw the PADD in the Vulcan's hands. In the Starfleet conference room, Gardner looked around at the rest of the panel in consternation. Beside him, Tarvin, another admiral, leaned forward to address the Vulcan ambassador directly.

"Ambassador, are you threatening an attack on a Starfleet vessel?" Her tone suggested that it would be a very bad idea for the Vulcan to make such an intimation, but Archer realised with a sinking sensation in his gut that there was absolutely nothing Starfleet could do if the High Council decided to attack the Enterprise. Vulcan technology was far more advanced than human technology, and although the gap had been narrowing gradually in recent years, Vulcan ships were still larger, faster, better armed, and better shielded than Earth vessels.

"Vulcans do not make threats," Sural answered coolly. "I have merely expressed the will of the Council, which is that the Romulan S'Trep will be held in custody by the captain of the Enterprise until the arrival of the Vulcan ships, at which point he will be surrendered without delay. Furthermore, Captain," the Vulcan addressed Archer directly, "you will remain in orbit of the Orion planet until the Vulcan fleet arrives. You will not send any further missions down to the planet's surface. You will, to the best of your capabilities, prevent the departure of any ships from the planet."

"Ambassador!" Fleet Admiral Criech entered the fray. "You have taken your demands far enough. I am sure it can be arranged for the Romulan to be placed as a guest in Vulcan custody. However, may I remind you that you do not command Starfleet captains. Please refrain from overstepping your authority."

Archer thought he saw the Vulcan's eyes narrow slightly at the stinging rebuke, but perhaps it was only his imagination.

"Admiral Criech," Sural said softly, "I assure you that I do not lightly make demands. However, the Vulcan High Council must insist that the Enterprise rest temporarily under our command. I do not believe you appreciate the gravity of this situation. The Romulan Star Empire is one of the greatest known threats to the High Council, and we cannot afford to allow this situation to escalate further."

"Escalate?" Gardner asked angrily. "If you think threatening an Earth ship will avoid escalating the situation, I'm afraid you are very much mistaken."

"As I said, Admiral, Vulcans do not –"

"You would endanger the Vulcan-Earth alliance over a single man?" Roddenberry interrupted incredulously. "Think of what you are saying, Ambassador. Our alliance with the Vulcans has a long and productive history of mutual benefit. Surely you would not consider endangering that relationship over this?"

"The High Council does not wish to endanger anything," the Vulcan answered gravely. "You are correct that the Vulcan-human alliance has proved mutually beneficial, and we have every hope that it will continue to be so. Therefore, in light of the High Council's request, we sincerely hope that you will consider the relationship of trust that has developed over the years between our two peoples and grant us the benefit of the doubt. I am not at leave to share all pertinent military details, but I assure you that my government would not make this request if it were not of the utmost importance. Your people have trusted us many times before, Admirals, and we have never betrayed you. I beg you, please trust us in this."

It was extremely artful, Archer had to admit. Sural allowed just the tiniest hint of urgency to creep into his tone, suggesting that the circumstances were so dire that even a Vulcan could scarce remain unmoved by them. The humans around him were visibly unsettled by his plea. At last, Admiral Criech nodded.

"Very well," he said stiffly. "As I see it, Ambassador, I have no other choice. I would not risk the peace either, and I recognize that you may well have good reason for your actions. However, I must be clear that I concede under protest. The trust you spoke of has characterized Vulcan-human relations almost since the beginning of our associations. After your words tonight, I am afraid that trust can no longer be mutual."

Archer wondered if the Vulcan ambassador appreciated the implications of the Admiral's words. Sural bowed his head slightly.

"The High Council is grateful for your understanding and cooperation, Admiral. We place great value on your trust, and hope that in time you will come to respect our actions as absolutely necessary to the circumstances." He turned to Archer, who had watched the display pan out in silent amazement. "Captain, you are temporarily relieved of command. Please transfer all your current command codes to Sub-Commander T'Pol immediately and request that she contact me at once on an encrypted channel."

"Wait just a moment," Gardner exploded furiously. "Jonathan Archer is the commander of the Enterprise. I will not have him relieved of command!"

The Vulcan was unruffled. "Admiral, did you or did you not three weeks ago remark that Captain Archer appeared 'emotionally unstable, obsessive, and ready to pursue the most implausible of proofs'?"

Archer gritted his teeth in silent anger. Gardner reddened steadily.

"That is not – I may have been – this is a misunderstanding, Admiral," he appealed to Criech. The older man was unsympathetic.

"I am inclined to agree with Ambassador Sural," Criech said. "Whatever your feelings about Captain Archer's current ability to command, you have expressed doubts about his fitness for duty." Criech addressed Archer. "Captain Archer, I sincerely regret the circumstances. Rest assured that you will return to full command of the Enterprise with no negative repercussions as soon as this situation has been handled. For the moment, however, I must ask you to temporarily pass the command of your ship to Sub-Commander T'Pol."

Arguing Admiral Gardner's decisions in a private conversation with the man was one thing. Archer wasn't about to publicly dispute the authority of the top-level commander in Starfleet – especially not in front of a Vulcan. The last thing he needed was for word to get back to the High Council that Starfleet was incompetent even at instilling basic discipline in their starship commanders. As furious and incredulous as he was, he nodded respectfully.

"Yes sir."

The disruptor pistol gave a low whine of protest and died. Entek stared down at it wildly. Reed felt hysterical laughter gathering in his chest. For all he had been so concerned about the weapon's power cell dying while he still needed it, there had been no cause for worry. It had died at exactly the right time.

Reed exploded off the ground at Entek. They tumbled over each other and Reed came out on top, only feet away from the terrified Fenzin, still bending over the Romulan but watching with horrified fascination.

"Run!" Reed screamed. "Take Ayaila and –" The words choked off as Entek's hand found a grip on his throat. Black spots danced in front of Reed's vision. He pounded his fist down at the alien's head, but Entek straightened the arm holding Reed's throat to keep the human off him. Reed could not reach down far enough to get a solid hit. He grabbed Entek's wrist with both hands and dragged it off his neck. The alien's sharp fingernails left dirty scratches in his skin. Reed gasped raggedly for breath. Entek brought a knee up hard into his back, knocking Reed down on top of him. The alien bit deeply into the side of Reed's neck just below his jaw. Reed pummeled furiously at him, but only the back of Entek's skull was readily available and that didn't make a particularly good target.

Out of the corner of his eye, Reed could see Fenzin struggling to get the Romulan woman to her feet. "Come on," he coaxed. "That's it, come on."

Reed wanted to yell at Fenzin not to waste his time: the Romulan probably would not survive. He didn't have the breath to call out. He wrenched savagely upward, pushing off the ground with his hands, and managed to pull free of the alien's clenched teeth. A good deal of skin came away too. Reed whipped his clenched hands down toward Entek's face with the force of all his body weight. Entek threw his arms up to block and caught most of the blow on his wrists. He rolled sideways and got one leg between himself and his opponent and kicked off Reed's stomach, using the momentum to roll away from the fight. The air was driven out of Reed's lungs and he doubled over.

Fenzin and Ayaila had almost reached the corner of the building. The Denobulan man was supporting the Romulan. Entek scrambled to his feet and started after them with a snarl. Reed caught hold of his foot and jerked backwards. Entek stumbled onto all fours. Reed hung on grimly as the alien struggled to break away from his hold. He stubbornly refused to let go even when Entek smashed a fist into his face, making him see stars. The alien dropped down on top of him and began a rhythmic pummeling of Reed's head. Stunned and dizzy, it was all Reed could do to deflect enough of the blows to keep himself conscious. At least Entek had been momentarily distracted from his pursuit of the Denobulans.

As soon as he judged Reed subdued enough, Entek sprang off the human and raced to the corner of the building, glancing both ways to see where the fugitives had gone. With a muted howl of anger and frustration he turned back on the human. Reed rolled to his hands and knees, spitting out blood but scarcely able to contain his relief. He had no idea how the Denobulans had escaped in so little time, especially carrying the wounded Romulan, but it was enough that they were gone.

Unfortunately, Reed had no route of escape open to him.

The implant shot a spasm of electricity through Reed's body. He collapsed rigidly to the ground, and when the shock had passed he was barely conscious. The last thing he saw was Entek's foot as the alien kicked him hard in the head.