The following hour Malcolm spent in the training area close to the armoury. He found the new men to be not much different from his old. They would do for the moment. As he finished the round he dismissed Hayes, who set a straight course towards the bridge. He disappeared as the turbolift doors closed. Malcolm looked at them for a while. Perhaps Hayes was telling the truth, perhaps not. He could have that checked. Even if it was true that he secured the MACO's, Hayes would have to do a lot more than some training schedules to earn any trust. Malcolm turned and walked away.

The armoury storage was a cold and quiet place. There was not much commotion here unless there was an actual battle situation, and that was something that Malcolm had always liked about this place. Here he gathered his thoughts, when he had the time. In one of the lockers, opened with his access code, he found what he was looking for. He donned the belt holding his blaster, pulling the black holding strip over his shoulder and attached it to the back of the belt. He made sure it was tight and strapped before attaching the knife at his side. He closed the locker and locked it again. The only thing he needed now was a communicator. That he could only get in engineering.

"Damn it!" He said. Turning to leave, a figure wearing the same red shirt as he did blocked his path. He tensed instantly, but as the figure emerged into the light, he just became annoyed. Before him was Trip, the lightning in the armoury hid the deformed side of his face as he approached from the shadows. He looked equally annoyed to be there.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" He asked.

"What's this cloak & dagger crap you're pulling, huh, Delta-man?" Countered Malcolm.

"I'll never get used to that mushy accent of yours, Reed" Trip responded. "But I don't care about it now; this ship has bigger problems than you." Trip sat down on a torpedo, putting one hand on his knee. Malcolm, looked down on him for a while, but decided to stay. Sitting down opposite of Trip he crossed his arms.

"I have understood that much. But what is the problem, really? What do you care if Hoshi is Empress? She's causing problems?"

"Aren't you clever? The thing is that Starfleet has not yet accepted the change of power… Hoshi wishes to control everything, even Starfleet command… at all points."

"Impossible." Murmured Malcolm.

"Well, there it is for ya', Commander! She has plans of dismissing the Admirals, thus gaining obsolete control over the entire fleet. And if they don't comply… she'll attack Earth!" The word made Malcolm rise hastily to his feet.

"Earth? Is she insane? Is this what Hayes talked about?" Trip got up.

"Hold it! Yes is the answer to all your questions. Here is your new communicator, I rigged it so they can't track or monitor you calls. Now you and Hayes do some of your MACO stuff and I'll talk to my engineers…" Trip threw him the communicator. Malcolm looked at it, as he looked up, the scene had changed.

He was in the corridor leading to the airlock, it was crowded and bright. Next to him was Trip, he was looking at something in front. Malcolm turned his eyes forward. It was T'Pol in the airlock… And Pholx, but he looked dead already. He noticed a guard by the airlock. Hoshi was there as well. She had a look of amusement on her face, so did many of the surrounding crewmen.
Sergeant Hayes and the MACO's were there too. Hayes had a placid look on his face, as if he was thinking about something else. The outer doors of the airlock opened on Hoshi's command. T'Pol's face did not change, but her eyes flinched towards something to the right of Malcolm. He looked right at Trip. His face was dark, but his eyes followed T'Pol. Malcolm finally understood. Had he been so blind before so that he had not realized what was going on? Trip closed his eyes, seemingly gathering himself.

Malcolm was staring at the communicator. Trip was already turning to walk out of there.

"You are doing this for her aren't you?" Malcolm almost blurted out. Trip stopped, his hand hovering over the opening button.

"What?" He said, turning.

"You loved T'Pol... And now you're going to avenge her… Charles." Malcolm said. Trip just looked at him, opened his mouth but then closed it again. The he pushed the button to the door and walked out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Malcolm could hear him say as the door closed. The armoury became silent once more. Trip's little eruption confirmed Malcolm's suspicions, but it did not matter. Having the Chief Engineer on your side made you look past a few things… until this mess was over.

Finding he was still holding the communicator, Malcolm attached it to his belt. Having his set complete, he could now finally go to sick bay. The halls were not yet familiar to him, so it took over ten minutes before he finally found his way back there. A nurse was the only living thing there. Malcolm leaned on the table, looking at her.

"Where is the doctor?" He asked. Then he took another glance at the nurse.

"The doctor went for early lunch, you see, won't be back for an hour, sir."

"An entire hour? What should we do during that hour?"

"We'll think of something…" The nurse said, extending a hand towards Malcolm. "Don't we always?"

"We always do." He agreed, taking her hand.