He could not remember the last time he had smiled.

Nor could he recall when last he was this angry. There had been times in the past when the fury surged through his veins, a blistering white-hot wrath that tried to sweep away all rationality, to burn away his innate sense of caution. Each time before, he had sought solace in training, focusing the anger into something constructive, whether it be new hand-to-hand techniques or more work with blades or target practice with phase pistols or disruptors or even archaic slugthrowers. Not this time, though. This time, there was no time to seek inner balance, no time to storm from his station and let the emotions out in a single explosive burst. Too many lives depended on his actions, his commands, his control. So he did the only thing he could with his anger.

He suppressed it.

A small part of him reveled in the fact that so few could see the cold fury simmering within him. It helped him maintain his facade of professionalism when all he wanted to do was to cast aside self-control, to kill the bloody bastards responsible. Every sodding last one of them. But the mask of absolute calm was in place and he had no doubt that the mastery of his raging emotions would have impressed even T'Pol.

Control was all that Malcolm Reed had.

He glanced around the shattered bridge and what he saw infuriated him. No console appeared to have escaped damage and several were still sparking wildly. A few minor fires were still smoldering and some of the internal structure had collapsed inward; one such column of metal had knocked the command chair free from the deck, upending it and leaving it on its side. Captain Archer and Hoshi - Lieutenant Sato, he told himself, she had to be justLieutenant Sato right now or his control would fracture - were still unmoving were they had fallen; both appeared to be breathing but he could not risk the time to check. CPO Rostov was sprawled out behind the Engineering station, blood pouring from his burnt face; the engineer hadn't even made a sound when his board blew up in his face. Three other crewmen had been on the bridge; three other crewmen were now still and silent on the deck. The core breach alarm continued to echo loudly throughout the ship.

"Get us clear of the field, Travis," Malcolm ordered. "Best speed." The Boomer pilot gave him an abbreviated nod and Reed turned his attention back to his board to continue directing the damage control teams. It was, after all, the only thing he could do that would help. He had minimal weapons control - only a single phase cannon was operating! - barely any sensors, and even fewer options. Unless Kelby could prevent it, the core would explode in under three minutes and everyone aboard Enterprise would die. Including Hoshi.

Malcolm had to hand it to the Romulans; this had been a brilliantly executed plan of attack even if it had been costly. Escape was already out of the question when they struck; no one would have risked going to warp within a star system which left fighting as the only option. Enterprise had become a flying Thermopylae, outnumbered yet stubbornly holding on to the last. "Come home with your shield or on it," Reed grimly quoted to himself; he had a fairly good idea which it would be.

The turbolift door slid open - damage control had only gotten it functional again minutes earlier - and a battered Doctor Phlox stumbled onto the bridge, followed almost immediately by a female MACO. Smoke rolled out of the turbolift as Phlox quickly moved toward Archer's side; he said nothing as he went to work and, for that, Reed was thankful. The MACO - Sergeant Cole, Reed realized - attended the Denobulan much in the same manner a nurse would. Cross-training the MACOs for shipboard duties had been an idea proposed by Lieutenant Mackenzie, one that Malcolm had eagerly supported; most of them were attached to the Armory, aiding the loading crews but three of them - Cole, Styles and Mackenzie herself - had been tasked to Phlox for combat lifesaver courses.

"Sir, I need grappler control," Travis said suddenly, his voice calm, and Malcolm didn't hesitate, transferring control of the docking grapplers directly to the helm station. As he did, he could see the Romulan sliding behind Enterprise,clearly lining up for another deadly torpedo run. It figured that the only functional cannon didn't face aft...

"Hostile at one-nine-seven mark two-five," he announced and Travis nodded, waited, his eye on the sensor feed. An immense asteroid loomed before them, larger than any they'd seen before, larger than some European nations, but Mayweather kept his course steady for long moments. Taking no fire, the Romulan grew bolder, accelerated and began lashing out with his disruptor cannons; Enterprise rocked under the assault and, even as the hostile was firing a torpedo, Travis was triggering the grapplers.

They shot out and anchored firmly in another asteroid that, while not as large as the one they bore down upon, was still at least three times their size. The lines grew taut, altering Enterprise's velocity ever so slightly, and Travis cut them loose before they could be torn free even as he fired a burst from the port-side maneuvering thrusters, sending the starship into a slow but controlled roll. Impossibly, it was enough and Enterprise skimmed the cratered surface of the France-sized asteroid with meters to spare. The torpedo was not as agile and impacted upon the giant rock, exploding in a plume of rock and debris. Malcolm exhaled, suddenly aware that he had been holding his breath.

"Commander Reed," Phlox said, looking up from where he knelt by Hoshi; his expression was bleak. "I need to get Captain Archer and Lieutenant Sato to sickbay at once."

"We have a possible core breach in under two minutes, doctor." The Denobulan didn't blink, merely waited. "I'd advise you to get to the bridge lifeboat instead."

"Not without my patients," Phlox insisted, his expression unyielding. He gestured to the Engineering station. "I've yet to examine Mister Rostov." Anger flared, hot and overwhelming, and Malcolm struggled to control it as he glared at his Chief Medical Officer.

"Did you not hear me?" he almost snarled. "The core. Is going. To breach."

"Then it does not matter if I am here or in a lifeboat, does it, Commander?" Despite their dire straits, the Denobulan gave Malcolm a hearty smile and moved to check on Rostov, followed closely by Cole. She gave Reed an apologetic look but said nothing.

"Kelby to the bridge!" The hail drew Reed's attention immediately and he hit the receive button, noting that Travis was again planning an impossible maneuver. He didn't want to watch so he looked back at the feed to monitor the hostile's flight path.

"Reed."

"You've got six and a half minutes, sir!" Alarms were making it difficult to make out Kelby's voice and, with a mild jolt of surprise, Malcolm realized the man was still in Engineering. A quick glance to his console revealed that Engineering had been sealed; no one could enter. Or exit. "Containment is holding but I can't give you more time than that! I'm also rigging the core for ejection!" Reed couldn't keep the surprise, the ... awe out of his voice when he responded; he'd read Trip's proposal for such a procedure and it had sounded ... risky.

"Acknowledged, Commander. And ... thank you." He didn't have to say for what.

"Kelby out." Malcolm looked up as the comm crackled out, met Phlox's eyes and frowned. Nothing needed to be said. Reed looked away, glanced at the sensor feed, a trickle of a plan starting to form. If they ejected the core at the right moment...

"We're coming to the edge of the field, sir," Travis declared, his fingers still flying across his controls; he appeared oblivious to the conversation that had just taken place although Malcolm knew he had heard everything. "Five minutes until we're clear." Reed gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment, belatedly realizing that Mayweather couldn't see him. He checked the feed once more, noted that the Romulan had fallen back, unable - or unwilling - to match the insane twists and climbs of Enterprise.It was time, Malcolm realized. He keyed the intraship comms and spoke words he never wanted to hear, let alone speak.

"All hands, prepare to abandon ship."