Reed snapped the communicator closed and zipped it safely back in his sleeve pocket, adjusting his grip on his phase pistol as they entered the turbo-lift. It whisked them up from F to E Deck, and as the doors opened, Reed and Brogan immediately assumed defensive positions; Reed on the left, Brogan on the right. Archer hung back, keeping his own phase pistol drawn, trying unsuccessfully to move as silently and swiftly as the two tactical professionals before him. They advanced with well practiced grace and efficiency; scanning every nook, cranny, doorway and access hatch before nodding the other ahead. Reed was on point when he stepped around the corner and two crewmen gazed at him in shock. Seeing their commanding officer clutching a phase pistol, they both went to draw their weapons and join him, but he held up his left hand, fingers spread, warning them to stay in place.

"Hold your positions," he whispered to them, as the three officers approached, "nobody – I repeat – nobody else is to come past you. Use any force necessary, understood?"

"Aye, sir!" came the whispered assents.

Reed and Brogan drifted past them, silent as spectres, while Archer brought up the rear. They paused again at a junction in the corridor; Brogan made a quick gesture with her hand and Reed, crouching slightly, moved forward cautiously, peering around the edge of the corner. He glanced back and gestured the all-clear; Brogan and Archer joined him, all three officers crouching and keeping low to the ground. Archer risked a glance around the corner; the corridor stretched about twelve meters ahead of them, to the door of the starboard impulse drive fusion reactor control room. The door stood closed.

"This is where they should be stationed," Reed murmured, softly.

Brogan drew a scanner from her belt, and awkwardly pressed a few buttons while maintaining her grip on her phase pistol.

"Damn sensor's being scrambled," she grumbled in disgust, "can't tell if there's life or power beyond that door or not..." holstering the scanner, she glanced across at Reed; "How do you want to play this?"

"Direct approach would seem our only option," he replied, "ready?"

At their joint nods, Reed broke cover and moved swiftly but silently to the left-hand side of the door. Brogan went next, taking up the opposite position on the right-hand side. Archer came last, joining Brogan on the left, crowding just behind her at the edge of the door. Reed held up his phase pistol and Brogan matched the gesture, indicating readiness. Reed held up three fingers on his left hand, counted down to two, and then one.

On zero, both of them moved fluidly forwards and through the door as Brogan trigged the door mechanism, admitting them to a tiny room, featureless aside from computer consoles either side of the door and two more doorways, one leading off to the left, the other to the right. At Reed's gesture, Brogan took the left door as he approached the right. Again, moving in timed unison, they both entered their doors simultaneously. Archer hung back, waiting to see if either would require assistance.

"Clear!" Brogan called out, eventually.

"In here, both of you," Reed called, in a foreboding voice.

Archer was through the door a heartbeat before Brogan, but stopped short, just beyond the doorway, and she almost ran into him. Stepping around the Captain, she was able to see what had caused him to halt in his tracks. Reed was crouching on the floor beside a slumped figure. He seized the body by the shoulder, rolling it over.

"Aw, shit," Brogan raised the back of her hand to her mouth as she swore, "oh, fuck."

Crewman Davies lay there before them; his throat slit almost from ear to ear, his blood congealing in a thick, red pool on the deck.

"He's cold," Reed told them, in a voice devoid of emotion, "he's been here for a few hours at least..."

"Long enough to overload the Armoury Console," Archer commented, darkly, "long enough to scramble our sensors and long enough to cause untold system damage..."

Brogan holstered her phase pistol; shaking her head, "I don't believe it... no, not D'Arcy... not Julian. He wouldn't do this."

"You're telling me he's never slit a throat before?" there was open challenge in Reed's voice, anger simmering beneath the surface of his cold, grey gaze, "He's never hacked a security system, scrambled a sensor array or staged an 'accidental' overload? You and I both know damn well this has Section 31 written all over it..."

"So am I a suspect now?" Brogan threw back at him, "or you? Just having been an agent makes you a suspect unless you're "one of us", is that it?"

"Enough," Archer interjected, forcefully, before an argument could begin, "you're both right in your way but the important thing is to locate Ensign D'Arcy – he could be a suspect, or he could even be another victim."

The slight flash of guilt across Reed's face was enough to tell the Captain that this possibility had not occurred to him. Brogan sucked in a deep breath.

"Not sure which would be worse," she admitted; her fondness for her long-term colleague glaringly obvious, "finding him like this, or finding out that he did it."

"Let's not pre-judge," Archer cautioned them both, "innocent until proven guilty but approach with caution. Let's get Phlox down here, run a full system check and begin a ship-wide search for D'Arcy, we can't rely on internal sensors to locate him."

"Aye sir," Reed moved to obey, crossing to the nearest com panel to summon the doctor.

Brogan turned to Archer, and raised her eyebrows; "A ship-wide search with only a skeleton crew? This could take a while."

"Then we'd best get started."


The Enterprise was normally the abode of some 81 humans, a Vulcan, a Denobulan and a Beagle named Porthos. All of those life forms, no matter their history and circumstance, had come to think of the ship as their home and their ship-mates as their extended family. It was a ship of safety, exploration and peace; yes, there were dangers and conflicts and arguments and occasional issues, but it was still home to one big and unusual, though relatively happy, family.

Today, however, was different. Two of their own were dead and another was missing. More than two-thirds of the crew had been shuttled down to a suitable planet and forced to camp together, huddled in tents beneath alien stars, while their remaining colleagues aboard hunted some unknown menace that stalked the halls. Aboard the ship, main power had been shut down to all but the most essential systems as the skeleton crew, mainly comprised of engineers and armoury personnel, swept through the ship in teams of two, armed with phase pistols and scanners, hunting for an errant crewmember, possibly armed with a bomb capable of putting a sizable hole through several decks of the ship.

Moving like wraiths through dimly-lit corridors running on emergency low power, the crew went about their hunt with the grim determination of those willing to go to any lengths to find the person who had caused such grief and hurt to the ship and her crew.

Archer had left T'Pol in charge of the Bridge with only Hoshi and Travis remaining at their posts, while he joined in the search of the ship, pairing off with Brogan, the irrepressible second-in-command of the Armoury. Trip had paired up with Reed, and the four of them had formed the core team co-ordinating the search and checking out any lead, no matter how small. False alarms and ghost calls kept them on their toes but wore their nerves thin and down to the wire.

"This is ridiculous," Trip hissed, to Malcolm Reed, as they wormed their way through a tight crawlspace, "is Denton sure he saw movement in here?"

"About as sure as Thaddeus was when he reported seeing D'Arcy going into the head on E Deck," Reed whispered back.

"Poor Ensign Cleethorpes..." Trip suppressed a snicker, recalling the Ensign's horrified expression when Reed had kicked the stall door in, "still, at least he was in the right place for you to scare the crap out of him!"

Reed responded to Trip's 'toilet humour' with a derisory snort, squeezing through a particularly tight spot, and then following the passage off to the right. He soon came to an access hatch, which he opened with relief, climbing out into the corridor, visually scanning for any signs of life. Nothing... he stepped forward, allowing Trip to clamber out beside him.

"Another false alarm," Trip grumbled, as he straightened up and tugged his uniform back into place, "Aw, hell with it, Malcolm – why don't we just evacuate the rest of the crew an' flood the whole damn ship with radiation?"

"Don't tempt me," Reed sighed, rubbing his temple to try to will away the headache that was still present, "besides, you know as well as I do that any radiation or other power surge could destabilise the anti-matter containment field in the missing torpedo warhead, and..."

He broke off as a dull sound echoed down the corridor from his right; was that a voice he had heard? He snapped his phase pistol up, headache forgotten, motioning for Trip to stay behind him. He crept slowly up the corridor, ears straining for any slight noise, alert for any movement. A quick glance around told him Trip was staying close; they were on G deck, the smallest and the lowest decks in the forward hull section of the ship. Reed crept forwards; they had entered the deck near the turbolift, so there was only one direction for them to go. He followed the corridor to the end where it turned sharply to the left, past the planetary sensor array, beyond which there was only an equipment locker and the guests' quarters, which were currently empty.

Reed paused outside the equipment locker, but there was another muffled clatter and this time a voice snapped something, but he could not hear what was said. Reed gestured for Trip to follow him; the corridor turned another left, and then left again. The only room to access was the sensor array monitoring bay, usually manned by the science department but it should have been empty. Reed paused outside, taking up a position to the right of the door; Trip went to the left. There was a muffled noise from within, and then an audible voice responded.

"Shut up! Do you want me to detonate this thing early? We've got at least another fifteen minutes before the first search teams start to sweep this deck..."

Trip looked to Reed in askance; the Tactical Officer had gone a shade paler. He knew that voice.

"Not D'Arcy," he whispered, his voice little more than a breath, lest they be overheard and discovered, "Ensign Lee!"

"Lee?" Trip's face was incredulous, "Should we call for backup?"

"No time," Reed shook his head, adjusting his grip on the phase pistol.

Trip did the same, both men bracing themselves; there was no other way in than a frontal assault. At Reed's nod, Tucker triggered the door and they both burst through; Reed went low, Trip went high. Reed's eyes took in the scene in a heartbeat; Ensign D'Arcy was tied to a chair, a gag taped over his mouth, his eyes wide with shock. Ensign Lee, a tall but stocky man in his early twenties, spun around, raising a phase pistol even as he dived for cover behind a console. Reed fired as Lee pulled the trigger; Reed's shot missed by a hair's breadth as Lee made it to cover but he heard Trip's grunt of surprise as the Engineer was hit in the chest; he toppled backwards and hit the deck with an unceremonious thud.

"Trip!" worry laced Reed's tone but a quick check told him that his friend had, thankfully, only been hit by a beam set to stun.

Given Lee's apparent propensity for killing, Reed was relieved that the phase pistol had not been on a higher setting. He glanced across at D'Arcy momentarily, but then kept his gaze and weapon pointed at where Lee crouched behind the console.

"Give it up, Lee," he commanded, circling the room, "surrender now, you can't escape this room..."

His only reply was the waspish buzz of a phase pistol discharge; he dodged to one side, avoiding it neatly as he returned fire, his own shot slamming harmlessly into a bulkhead.

"Ensign, I don't know what Commander Harris has ordered you to do, but you've failed!" Reed snapped, "Throw down your weapon and surrender!"

"Once my mission is finished it'll be Lieutenant Lee, not Ensign!" the other man called back, "It's too late, Reed – I've already triggered the warhead. The containment field is decaying and will breach in less than five minutes, it'll take out at least two decks."

"And you along with it," Reed responded, silently trying to circle around the console to get a clear shot, "you won't live to see that promotion..."

"I'll be long gone before it detonates," Lee retorted, "it's you and D'Arcy that won't survive."

Reed edged closer to the panel, but as he was almost there Lee suddenly shot to his feet, vaulting over the console; his flying kick took the phase pistol clean out of Reed's hand, he landed and spun a high, fast kick that caught Reed across the jaw, sending him crashing to the deck. Stunned, he shook it off and just managed to roll aside in time to avoid Lee's crushing boot-heel coming down on his head as the Ensign leapt at him.

"Hold this for me..." Lee smirked, dropping the torpedo warhead carelessly into D'Arcy's lap.

Reed carefully wiped the blood from his lip as he got to his feet, eyeing Lee appraisingly. The younger man did not usually fair well in his hand-to-hand training and sparring sessions; it was clear that he had been holding back on his true skills. Raising their hands into a defensive position, the two opponents circled each other, warily; Reed was hyper-aware that he needed to act quickly to take down Lee and then disarm or dispose of the device. Oozing confidence, Lee set his phase pistol down on the console and turned to face Reed.

"Do you know what? I'm going to enjoy taking you apart with my bare hands, you bastard..." Lee smirked, arrogance shining in his mocking eyes.

"Don't bet on it," Reed mumbled.

As he had expected, Lee made the first move; a feint with his right hand and then a sharp jab with his left that Reed easily blocked. He responded with a right-handed punch that the Ensign jarred aside with lightning-fast reflexes. The returning blow caught Reed below his jaw, snapping his head back with surprising force. He rounded faster than Lee had apparently expected, managing to land a blow to the Ensign's midriff that doubled him over; a follow-up clout sent the Ensign staggering backwards, separating them momentarily, but Lee rallied quickly, lowering his head. He ran forwards; Reed braced for a tackle but instead the Ensign jumped and kicked out; Reed managed to duck the blow but he was thrown off-balance, allowing Lee to land and kick again, sweeping Reed's legs from beneath him. The Lieutenant crashed to the deck and hastily scrambled to his knees, but another kick, the time heel first, slammed into his face with devastating force. He crashed back down again, dazed and more than a little winded, his vision blurring as he raised a hand to his right cheek. Pain flared beneath his eye socket and he groaned, hearing the Ensign's mocking laugh.

"Had enough yet, old man?"

"Just getting warmed up," Reed replied, through gritted teeth.

He hauled himself to his hands and knees, and, gathering his strength, he launched himself at the Ensign. Lee must have been taken by surprise by the suddenness of the attack, as the two men went sprawling on the deck, each grappling for a hold on the other, exchanging blows at lightning fast speed. Reed thought he was gaining the upper hand, until Lee managed to gather his legs and, with his boots planted firmly in Reed's chest, the Lieutenant found himself thrown through the air, landing on the deck and sliding a few feet until he collided with the bulkhead. Gasping for breath, winded, his head spinning, Reed was just trying to lift himself off the floor when strong hands hauled him upright. Helpless, he was thrown across the room, colliding hard with the console.

"Pathetic," Lee sneered, though he was panting with the exertion of their efforts.

"Guess again," Reed's fingers closed around his intended goal; Lee's abandoned phase pistol.

He turned and fired in one smooth motion; Lee's eyes widened in shock and he collapsed to the deck. Reed hastily crossed to D'Arcy; without hesitation he ripped the gag from the other Ensign's lips.

"Sir!" D'Arcy gasped out, "the warhead!"

"I've got it," Reed picked up the device, grimly, even as he released D'Arcy's right hand from the adhesive tape that restrained him in the chair, "free yourself and see to these two. I don't have time to disarm this..."

"What will you do?" D'Arcy shouted after him, but Reed was already running.

One glance at the anti-matter containment had confirmed his worse fears; the breach was inevitable and he had no time to get it to an appropriate power supply. He ran, full tilt, to the nearest airlock, but he had seconds, not minutes... he opened the door, threw the device inside, and decompressed the airlock using the emergency override, sucking the bomb out into space with the sudden decompression.

Not enough! Reed's mind screamed at him even as he slammed his hand on the nearest communications panel.

"Reed to Bridge! Polarise the hull plating immediately! All hands – brace for...!"

He never got the chance to finish his warning. The device detonated; the explosion slammed into the ship with the devastating force only a photonic torpedo could unleash. The Enterprise bucked wildly; Reed was thrown head first into the bulkhead and he was unconscious before he even hit the deck.