A/N: I must admit, I love watching 'Team Archer' go into action. Maybe that's why I enjoyed writing this chapter so much. I hope you enjoy it too!

Violations

Chapter Fifteen - Hunter, Hunted

Jonathan Archer liked to think that he was a man of peace. Compassion. Not one to look for a fight. Anyone who now looked into his eyes, though, would find it hard to see any of those attributes, or the friendly warmth that usually lay within them. Because those eyes were currently locked like lasers on the small alien ship that lay in full view ahead of him.

For a moment, they softened again, casting a glance of proud admiration towards his first officer. Even if her Vulcan heritage wouldn't let her return it, T'Pol deserved his appreciation, for the advantage she'd given him. Instead of skulking in their exhaust, as the cowards they were, their target was now fully exposed.

Unmistakeable.

Unmissable.

Now they'd be helpless, too. Just as Trip had been. And for everything they'd done to his closest friend, Jon was in no mood to show any kind of mercy. Again, his eyes hardened and narrowed. His voice, soft and deadly, swept towards his tactical officer.

"Target their engines, Malcolm. I want that ship dead in the water."

Never happier than when he had his weapons locked on a threatening target, Malcolm nodded. The fury in his eyes suggested he'd have been happier still if he'd been allowed to blow it out of that metaphorical water, let alone disable it. If not for the evidence they were determined to find inside it, he'd have done so. Instead, he just smiled, and obeyed his CO's orders.

"With pleasure, sir."

It took just ten seconds for three cannon bursts to find their targets, and achieve their objectives. And ten seconds after that for Hoshi Sato to glance first at her console, and then at her Captain.

"Sir, we have contact as planned. And we're being hailed. It's Trena'l."

There was almost a smile on that Captain's face now, as Jon stood and took point in front of his chair.

'Showtime.'

"Yes, I was rather hoping it would be. Okay, Hoshi, put him through. With visual."

Ahead of him, the viewscreen flickered for a moment, then formed itself into a puzzled, angry face.

"Captain Archer? What's the meaning of this? Why this unprovoked attack upon us?"

His face was now the study of innocence. But Jon wasn't buying it for a second. Not now. Not ever. And, silently at least, the thought of being deceived again by this sick little snake made his blood boil.

'Unprovoked? Yeah, just give me five seconds with you. I'll give you unprovoked.'

"Oh, I think you know as well as I do that we have unfinished business here," he said instead, throwing that protest right back at the Xyrillian's face, and fervently hoping he'd choke on it too. "And we have every right, every reason we need to launch this… attack."

For several more moments, the façade stayed in place. Trena'l stared impassively back at him. Finally, under the full fury of Jon's eyes, and those of everyone else around him, he smiled.

Except it wasn't a smile. On a human face, just as it was on his, it was an arrogant, sneering leer.

"If these are your senior officers, Captain, then… well, I must say I'm surprised," he said at last, making a show of peering beyond Jon's shoulder, to the crew who sat in silent solidarity behind him. "During such a critical operation, I would have thought your chief engineer would be among them."

It took all Jon's strength and willpower not to react. Inwardly, though, it was a wholly different story.

'Make that two seconds. And the first thing I'll do is punch that damn smirk right out your ass!'

"Well, that's because he's where I need him. Heading his teams in Engineering, and powering our systems. Including our weapons," he said at last, so grateful now for the poker face that had made him the most notorious cardshark in Starfleet. Knowing that Trip was safely out of this bastard's sights, still safely in his quarters - God, it felt good. Almost as good as revealing the slightest of smiles now, as that on the face in front of him betrayed its frustration.

Glancing towards T'Pol, then Hoshi, the nods he found there made this priceless moment just about perfect. With perfect timing, his ace had arrived. And he just couldn't wait to shake it out of his sleeve.

"Though to be honest, the firepower he could give us won't really be necessary," he went on, keeping his tone light, and his eyes fixed on the screen ahead of him, for the mother of surprises. "No, I think you'll find that'll come from the ship that's just decloaking off your port bow."

'Ship' didn't really come close to describing the massive cruiser that now appeared beside them. Against the much smaller one that was suddenly dwarfed in front of it, a more apt term would be –

"Good God! I've seen smaller planets!"

– something more along the lines of what Malcolm Reed had just whispered, in awe, behind him.

In fact, they were all staring now, transfixed by the shaft of light that now snaked out from its centre. And for Jon, for all of them, there was the extra satisfaction of seeing the effect it had on Trena'l. The smirking grin was gone. Wiped out. Obliterated. In its place, an expression of complete disbelief. Utter dismay.

For him, at least, that shock grew deeper as his ship was pulled into the gaping maw above it. But as it disappeared from his view, Jonathan Archer allowed himself a wholly satisfied smile. An expression of relief, and grateful triumph, that he now saw on every other face around him.

It was a moment he yearned to savour, but… no. No, right now, there was another place he had to be. And he only had to glance around the faces around him to know that every one of his command team understood. Silent messages of support for their friend, their colleague, were written through every encouraging smile. And, from Malcolm, came the quiet hopes that all of them shared.

"Give him our best, sir. And tell him the Bridge is much too quiet without him."

Jon had to smile at that. If just to watch Trip and T-Pol engage in verbal combat - God, yes. He, too, had missed those often entertaining visits. It turned his smile into a broadening grin as he stepped into the lift. He'd known this all along, of course, but he'd never tire of thinking it. This was one hell of a crew. One hell of a family.

Phlox was part of that family too, of course. And, it seemed, as skilled a counsellor as he was a doctor. From whatever they'd been talking about, Trip's eyes were a reassuringly clear blue. He looked happier, more settled, and at ease with himself, than he had before. And while clearly grateful for what his CMO had done for him, Jon's attention was focussed, as it had to be, on Trip.

Returning Phlox's nod with a grateful smile, he placed both his hands on Trip's shoulders. Looked straight into those bright but suddenly anxious eyes - and gave him the news he knew he'd have prayed to hear.

"We've got them, Trip. We've got them."