Renaisterre

Sequel to The New Doctor

By Lieuten Keen

Chapter One

Disclaimer: What you recognize belongs to Paramount. I don't own them; I just play with them now and again. Andie belongs to me. (Nobody else would want her.)

Set in Season 4 just after Kir'Shara. There's six months between the Vulcan Civil War and the Conference at Babel One. I'm making the most of that time.

The New Doctor takes place in the first two months after Kir'Shara. Renaisterre occurs directly after those events. I'm attempting to summarize the events of the first story in case you don't want to read it; you should be able to keep up. But it's always a good idea to read the source material for clarity.

A/N: Drinking, smoking, cursing, kissing and kicking butt are a few of my favorite things. Please read responsibly!

Chapter One

Enterprise: E Deck, gymnasium

Early August, late evening

"You're doing it wrong."

Malcolm Reed restrained the urge to knock his critic on her ass for many reasons, but the foremost was because from his current stance it would be difficult to shift his weight and reach her before she became aware of his intentions. He was stuck in a wide legged stance with both arms outspread; one behind him and slightly raised, and the other in front of him, holding a rather weighty weapon.

The temporary acting Chief Medical Officer, Andrea Brainerd, who preferred the casual title of Dr. Andie, was giving Reed lessons in sword play. Their evening exercises had started as a means of getting to know one another, but now simply served to introduce Malcolm to her odd way of waving a sword around, much like the pirates she once lived and worked with before her association with Starfleet had begun. It required a great deal of athleticism, this sword-style, and although she was slender and energetic and made it look as difficult as a bird swooping through the air, Reed remained convinced that he looked as ridiculous as he felt, much like an elephant in a pink ballet tutu.

The female circled around him, chewing on her lip as he held the posture for her perusal. "May I make an adjustment?" she inquired, waiting for his grunt of agreement before stepping closer to him. Her body molded against his from behind. He could feel her breath against the back of his neck as she tilted her head and stretched out her own arm to mimic his posture, using his arm as thought she was taking aim through a sight on a rifle.

Reed could feel the heat of her body against his through his tee shirt and wondered why the odor from his perspiration didn't send her running for cover. He could feel her hands on his hips, shifting them slightly and he made the adjustment she required, trying to ignore the soft whispers in his ear as she muttered verbal instructions. Her arm molded itself to his and lifted it just slightly higher in the back, making him grit his teeth at the brief flare of a muscle unaccustomed to such activity. Then she reached out in the other direction and gripped his wrist to turn his forearm just a hair toward his center. The frustrating muscle flare disappeared, much to his relief, although it did not seem that she had done much to shift his body.

Testing his new posture, she gripped his wrist and used it to direct the swing of his sword arm across his body, which occurred in a smoother motion than he'd been attempting on his own. In spite of her volatile temper, she was a pretty good instructor. He had half a mind to set her to refreshing some of the MACO's on his team in hand to hand tactics. It amused him to anticipate which marine would be caught off guard by her skills. One thought sapped the humor from his reflection; the doctor was distracting enough without pressing up against the rest of the men on board.

"Tell me, Doctor," he asked quietly, still feeling her chest resting against his back through the thin tee shirt even though she seemed to have completed her perusal of his form. Goosebumps had risen on his arm and he made a note to turn up the thermostat in what he presumed to be the chilly room. "I thought you told me this was a hands-off sport. How is it that you can put your hands all over me?"

"I believe I said it was primarily a hands-off sport." she corrected playfully, speaking directly into his ear in a low voice sending a fresh batch of goose bumps into his flesh. Suddenly she paused and stepped away. "Am I making you uncomfortable?"

"The instructors at Starfleet training were never so hands on," he remarked. "They thought it might be distracting." Years of practice kept his facial expression smooth even as he felt the chill of her absence.

"I'll keep my distance then," she stated stiffly, allowing her smile to fade away behind a polite expression.

A sound reached both their ears and broke the unexpectedly awkward moment. At this time of night, it was surprising to find anyone entering the small gym on E Deck and they were both startled as somebody entered the room. Reed turned his head to witness the intruder, concerned to be discovered in such close proximity to the woman who had been spending a lot of free time with Commander Tucker recently, and was mortified to see Trip himself entering the room. Feeling off-balance and slightly guilty, he jerked his sword-arm around in a failed attempt to salute the superior officer, something he hadn't done in quite a while although it seemed quite appropriate now, but the gesture was stopped short as his elbow nailed Andie, who was still standing very close, right in the face with a sickening crunch. She squeaked sharply just before she hit the floor.

Dazed, Andie put a hand up to her face and caught the blood trickling from her nose. Catching sight of the newcomer, her eyes darted to Reed's pale complexion just before she shrieked loudly. "OOWWWW!" Scrambling across the floor she begged the newcomer. "Tucker, get him away from me! He's gone mad! He attacked me! I'll never be pretty again!"

Trip rushed to the doctor's side. "What the hell's going on?" he demanded, placing his body between the two combatants as if to defend the woman.

"We were just exercising," Malcolm answered nervously, trying to get a look at the damage that he might have done to cause such an outburst in a woman usually so imperturbable. It was impossible; she was hidden by the engineer.

"He attacked me!" Andie warbled loudly. "Keep him away! He plans to finish the job! I'll be hideous!"

The sudden bout of melodrama was suspicious and Malcolm tilted his head around Tucker's form to glare at her, figuring she was just having him on for a laugh.

"Let's get her to the infirmary," Trip suggested, helping the woman to her feet. He couldn't figure out what was going on, but she couldn't be hurt that badly if she could still screech like a wet cat.

Andie flung a triumphant grin at Malcolm over Trip's shoulder, confirming Reed's suspicion that very few things would make this woman afraid and he certainly wasn't one of them. Malcolm rolled his eyes in disgust.

"This is ridiculous! She's fine," Reed insisted. "I'll prove it." He reached out a hand.

Andie squealed loudly, rolled her eyes up into her head and collapsed gracefully to the floor, apparently in a faint.

"What the hell, Reed?" Trip shouted, planting his body between the Brit and the doctor defensively.

"She's faking," Malcolm asserted insistently.

"She's terrified of you!" Tucker pointed out. He glanced back at her fallen form just in time to catch sight of one eye snapping shut a moment too late. She had been looking at him just a second before. "Andie?" he called her name, kneeling down. His fingers felt for a pulse on her wrist; it beat with strong even rhythms. "I think she's out cold." Still he studied her form with greater interest.

"She is not!" Malcolm denied vehemently. His temper began to climb.

"It's all right. I know how to treat this kind of injury," Trip went on calmly, offering Malcolm a significant look. "Lizzie used to faint like this all the time. I recommend we try a tried and true home remedy of vigorous rib-tickling." He flexed his fingers in anticipation as he grinned gleefully.

Andie's eyes snapped open. "Oh, hell no!" she refused as she tossed her legs over her head and rolled to her feet. "Look! I'm cured!" She raised her hands in triumph and smiled angelically in spite of the trickle of red still flowing from her nostril.

"That's not funny!" Malcolm snapped and Trip tried not to giggle.

"It's a little funny," she assured him with a cheeky smile, wiping inadequately at her face with her hand. "It's just as funny as the time I shot you in the ass on accident!"

"Wasn't an accident," Reed muttered under his breath.

Andie continued swiping ineffectually at the blood still drizzling from her nose. "I need to get to Sickbay. Anybody want to volunteer to help me?" She pinched the bridge of her nose and tilted her head backward.

"I'll go with you," Tucker volunteered. "I wouldn't want you to suddenly 'faint' in the corridor and get Malcolm in trouble." He offered her his clean gym towel for the nose bleed and led her to the door.

"Reed, would you mind bringing my gear? I don't want to leave it here unattended. The gym's crowded tonight." Andie's voice was muffled by the towel as she looked over her shoulder at the dark-haired man.

"I'll be right behind you," he promised, watching them go. When Tucker had entered the room, he hadn't said a word about how close Reed had been standing next to Andie. Perhaps he was waiting for a more private moment to have a word with the armory officer. Reed felt a little guilty about how much fun he had been having with that dreadful woman until his friend's entrance. With a deep sigh, he picked up the two short swords, whose blades were wrapped in a protective material to keep from cutting anyone with their sharp edges and placed them in their long, narrow case. He grabbed the pair of gym bags with their water bottles and other odds and ends and offered a quick look around to make certain the room was empty. With a grudging heart, he followed after the other couple.

The long walk to Sickbay gave him plenty of time to notice the glob of rubberized glue adhering to Andie's towel. He picked at it a little as he walked. He didn't recognize the substance exactly, but he did remembering seeing tiny blobs of it decorating the woman's scrubs late in recent evenings when she worked in Sickbay. Perhaps it was some medicinal substance; although if it was, he couldn't think what it might be.

Steeling himself to enter the medical ward, he was prepared to find the Commander comforting the Doctor in a personal sort of way, but there was no indication of anything private occurring in the room. The slender woman lay back on a bio-bed with a small tray of instruments on her abdomen and was instructing Trip on how to hold a mirror properly.

"I can't believe you want to treat your own injury!" Trip sighed. "Let me call Ensign Black to do it for you before you cut your nose off!" Not for the first time did he wish that Phlox's illness had not sent the primary surgeon back to Denobula Prime for a while to recuperate. They could really use another doctor on hand.

"Ian Black doesn't need another reason to grumble at me," she insisted. "And this is a piece of cake. Just hold that mirror still." Andie tilted her head backwards and slid a small instrument into her nostril and Trip tried not to gag as the machine whirled to life. In a few seconds the thin membrane was sealed and the bleeding had stopped.

"There!" Andie cried triumphantly. "All done!" She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, wisely pausing and inhaling slowly at the brief vertigo until it passed. "Good as new," she smirked at Trip as she wiggled her nose around to make certain it wouldn't suddenly start bleeding again. Catching sight of Malcolm she smiled widely. "Tell him I'm fine, Reed," she insisted. "Tell him it would take something much bigger than your elbow to fell me for good."

Malcolm assumed a pleasant expression. "The doctor has assured me on several occasions that it would take something much larger than me to drop her on her ass, and also takes pride in loudly proclaiming that she would have no trouble knocking me on mine." His eyebrow spoke volumes to Tucker as it hit his hairline though, and Tucker finally gave in to relief and smiled.

"I bet she'd try like hell at any rate," the engineer chuckled with relief.

"Captain Archer to the senior staff," spoke a voice over the Comm.

The men looked at each other before Tucker hit the button on the wall to respond. "Tucker, here! Malcolm's with me. We're both in Sickbay, Cap'n," he acknowledged. "We were talking to the Doc."

"If you're not injured would you both report to the Bridge? There's something up here you should see." Although they could not see his expression from Sickbay, they could hear the smile in his voice. "We're back in business, Trip!"

"Malcolm and I will be right there, Cap'n," Trip promised. He looked back at Andie with an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry, Doc. We gotta go." The engineer couldn't help but notice the furtive glances she sent toward the armory officer and thought he ought to beat a hasty retreat and give the two of them a moment alone.

"No worries," Andie waved away his apologies. "I'll be fine." She applied a hypo to her own neck as he exited the room.

Left alone with the woman, Malcolm stepped forward to hand over her gym equipment. "I'm very sorry," he started to apologize as she accepted the bag and the case.

"Not yet, but you will be," she promised with a grin. "Tomorrow we will duel to avenge my honor!" She practiced a sweeping bow, as though she was a Musketeer seeking satisfaction.

"Perhaps that would be a bad idea," he hesitated. Trip hadn't even looked at him before he left; clearly he was very angry at the personal attention of the doctor and the security officer. But that didn't really sound like the southern man at all, Malcolm acknowledged.

Andie stopped laughing. "Why? What's wrong? Is it…?" She could see he wasn't amused. "It was just a joke." Her voice dwindled away.

"These things might get out of hand if we don't take the proper precautions," he stated.

She had a feeling she knew exactly why he was avoiding her. He still didn't trust her. "There's nothing to get out of hand…" Her protests broke off when the double doors slid open again to admit another engineer. "Hey, Mike," she greeted him tiredly.

"Hey, Doc," Crewman Michael Rostov greeted the physician. "Are you busy?"

"I was just leaving," Malcolm told them both. "I'm sorry about your nose, Doctor," he apologized again.

"Don't worry about it, Reed. I've already forgotten it," Andie assured him coolly. He would never forget or forgive what she was at heart. And he didn't even know the half of it. She watched him guardedly until his back departed the double doors then turned to Crewman Rostov. "What can I do for you?"

"Remember that thing you treated me for? Is it gone?" Rostov looked worried as he looked around the room carefully, searching for listeners.

"Are you exhibiting symptoms?" Andie inquired, picking up a medical tri-corder and scanning him quickly.

"No, it's just that…." Rostov searched for the right words. "I was thinking about becoming involved with somebody and I wanted to make sure it was all right to …be involved with them, without spreading….anything."

Rostov had been at a table in a seedy bar when he and several other young crewmen were infected with a disease passed on through the palm of an angry prostitute. She had intended to make them suffer, but it was the excessive antibodies created by their own immune systems in response to her disease that kept those men from falling victim to the ship-wide epidemic that had knocked down almost everyone else and sent Phlox back to Denobula to recuperate.

"I think it's admirable that you are taking such precautions to verify your health before you start a physical relationship," Andie beamed. "But I'm also inclined to give you my safe sex speech again. Would you like to look at the pamphlets while I lecture?"

Rostov squirmed. "Not really," he denied. He worried briefly about her delight in his predicament. She was the medical officer, but he wondered if she would gossip with anyone else about his condition. He shrugged. If she was going to talk about it, she would have done it by now. He let her chatter on about safe sexual practices and the importance of communication as she puttered around the medical ward, readying the imaging chamber and indicating that Rostov should get comfortable there.

She paused briefly in the middle of her speech when she noted the gym equipment that Reed had brought with him. Getting along with Reed just wasn't as easy as it sounded. It didn't help that his skin emitted an odor much like cloves, even when he dripped with perspiration. It was distracting. She wondered if it would be weird to suggest that Reed switch to a different soap or deodorant or something. Realizing that Rostov lay on the sliding bio-bed waiting for her to send his form into the chamber, she forced a cheery smile on her face. She started the engineer's bio-scan before she picked up the swords and secured them in a locked cupboard until she could return them to her cabin.

It wouldn't do at all to become distracted by the chief tactical officer. He was far too nosy for her peace of mind.

Enterprise: Bridge

Shortly thereafter

Fifteen minutes later Malcolm appeared on the Bridge and relieved his counterpart on the Gamma shift when he took the tactical station. Everybody else was already there. Ensign Hoshi Sato sat at the Comm., listening attentively to the sounds coming through her earpiece, ignoring all the others who watched her intently. Ensign Travis Mayweather continued to guide the ship closer to the planetary system that occupied the view screen in front of them. Commander T'Pol was unruffled as she kept her eye on several scans being completed by the computer at the science station and Commander Tucker stood behind the big chair as Captain Archer leaned forward, hoping to get a glimpse of something with his bare eye before the computers could beat him to the game.

"It is Minshara Class," T'Pol confirmed, causing Archer to exhale in relief and look at Trip with expectant glee. "It is roughly 7000 kilometers in diameter."

"That's twice the size of the moon!" Trip grinned widely, clapping the shoulder of the captain. Archer just nodded intently as he waited for more information.

"Captain?" Hoshi called out. "I'm not getting any response to our hails."

"It appears to be a pre-industrial society," T'Pol added, lifting her head from the viewer. "This species appears to be experiencing a medieval period in their development." She didn't need to look at Archer's face to know it had fallen low. Starfleet did not make contact with pre-warp species, let alone pre-industrial ones. The computer beeped and she turned her attention to a report just coming in. "There appears to be residual radiation lingering on the surface area," she announced.

"What kind of radiation?" Jon inquired, feeling his hopes of contact with a new species falling away. Trip squeezed his friend's shoulder for a brief moment.

"I believe the rate of decay on the planet has nearly depleted the original substance from the atmosphere. It is hard to estimate accurately. The asteroid belt that lies between the plant and our ship seems to be exhibiting a low level graviton field and the sensors are having trouble penetrating the interference." She lifted her head form her charts and diagrams. "I would recommend against a landing party, Captain."

"Agreed," he acknowledged regretfully. "But nothing says we can't get a good long look at the planet. Continue scanning. Try and find out what you can about the inhabitants."

"As you wish," T'Pol agreed.

Everyone on the Bridge let out the breath they had been holding. Their primary mission of exploration had been put off for their trip into the Expanse, and all were hoping to resume their usual duties and make some new friends in the galaxy. It did not appear that today was the day that would happen.

"Sorry to get you all out of bed for nothing," Archer sighed as he looked around. Hoshi and T'Pol had both been at their stations already. Travis just grinned and nodded agreeably; he never minded being routed from bed. As a pilot, he always had a job to do when he was called to the bridge.

"Malcolm and I weren't in bed anyway, Cap'n" Trip acknowledged.

"You were in Sickbay if I recall." Jon arched an eyebrow. "You aren't sick, are you?"

"No, sir," Malcolm interjected quickly.

"We were just...talking to Andie," Trip finished awkwardly. He thought he saw T'Pol lift her head from her scans when she heard that, but when he turned around, she was concentrating on the screen before her.

"Is she in trouble?" Archer questioned casually. Things seemed to happen when Andie Brainerd was around. Chaotic things, he amended in his head. Loud things, he mentally added.

"Not today," Trip announced. A bloody nose during exercise was hardly worth mentioning.

"Gee, that's two days in a row," Archer smirked. "I think that's a record, don't you?"

"Could be, sir. I'll have 'em mark it in the log." Trip grinned easily. "If you don't need me, I'm gonna head off to bed then."

"We'll call you if anything interesting shows up," Archer grumbled in response, scowling at a view screen that refused to show him a planet that needed a good long exploratory mission. "You're relieved as well, Malcolm," Archer stated, when he turned his head and noticed the tactical officer still seated at his station. "Go get some rest."

"I think I will. Good night, sir." Malcolm rose and Ensign Higgins took back the tactical station.

Actually Malcolm didn't like being dismissed from the Bridge, but with his recent medical recommendation for rest lingering on the captain's mind, he didn't want to press his luck and wind up on forced leave for several days. Hoshi gave up her chair to Ensign Shannen but Ensign Caffrey found Commander T'Pol reluctant to give up her station, so she continued her work in the back of the Bridge, compiling data scanned from the planet below. There were several thousand life-forms down there, but unfortunately, they couldn't make the acquaintance of even a single one of them. Ensign Tanner was sent back to bed, as Mayweather made him self comfortable at the helm.

For some, it was going to be a long night.

They just didn't know how long it was really going to be.

Enterprise: Bridge

The Next Morning

Ten hours later, Jonathan Archer stood in front of the captain's chair and stared at the strange sight in front of his eyes. The NX-01 had navigated around the thickest part of the asteroid belt in an attempt to take further scans of the planet they could not visit, and discovered something floating amid the debris. Drifting idly through those rocky remnants was a ship. The alien vessel was larger than Enterprise, the pride of Starfleet's progress. It was smooth and round and contained a large bubble-like dome in the center, created with transparent material strong enough to withstand the vacuum of space. Had there been any lights on inside, the dome would have lit up the darkness around them. But there were no lights; it wafted darkly on the asteroidal eddies, surprising its watchers by serendipitously avoiding collisions with the jagged rocks around it. Hoshi had returned for her morning shift but shook her head in response to all queries about communications with the vessel that tumbled helplessly through the clutter on the fringe of a planet.

"I'm reading a surge of power deep inside the vessel," Commander T'Pol informed the captain. "Main power may still be online."

"Can you confirm bio-signs?" Archer inquired. He hated to leave a ship to roll around like junk. It just didn't seem neighborly. He could remember one dire circumstance early in their first year when leaving behind a derelict vessel full of dead bodies had nearly been worse than offering aid. That wasn't the sort of lesson he could forget. If the crew was dead, they deserved a burial of some kind.

"I cannot," T'Pol told him. "There appears to be bio-matter on board, but I cannot confirm scans of the interior."

"Is that due to the graviton field?"

"It may be due to structural damage, sir," Malcolm interjected. He, too, had returned for his morning duties and was once again occupying his seat at the tactical station. "I'm not detecting any evidence of weapons' fire. The outer hull appears to be in good condition. Whatever damage was done, must have come from inside."

Mayweather looked up from his seat at the helm. "You can see the stream of atmosphere where another section of the hull just decompressed," he interrupted, pointing a finger at a wisp of air on screen.

Jon looked at Hoshi. He didn't need to verbalize his request; she was still shaking her head. There was nobody sign to indicate the aliens had received their hails, if there was anyone left alive to receive them.

He hated to send his crew over when they couldn't adequately estimate what they would find inside. There could be enemies, or plagues or just a lot of nothing. Hoshi had managed to make out a few markings on the side of the ship and was currently running them through a translation matrix and the database for comparison. Archer had never seen anything like this ship in his years in space. But there might be somebody else on board who could give him some more information.

"Send a copy of this data down to Sickbay," he ordered T'Pol. "If the Doctor thinks its okay, we'll take a shuttle pod over to have a look. Start putting a team together, Malcolm. Tell Trip he's coming too. We might need an engineer."

"There's nothing to indicate a medical cause, sir," Malcolm objected with curiosity. "We can't even confirm life-signs. What can the doctor offer that we can't see for ourselves?"

"Can't hurt to ask," Archer grimaced. He left the bridge on the turbo-lift, leaving behind a puzzled armory officer.

"And you think I know…what, exactly?" Andie eyed the captain dubiously. She cradled a gray cat in her arms. Josephine did not look pleased about being held either. Archer had no doubt that Jojo would like nothing better than to hide under a table until he left the room. He probably smelled like dog, he realized. He could not locate Jojo's companion, Napoleon. The orange cat was usually never far from his mistress who had rescued them both from an ice-covered planet overrun with carnivores, but Leon could not be found at the moment.

"You've been out in space longer and farther than anyone else I know," he reminded her. That little fact was not widely known among the crew, but a select few on board were aware of her dubious past. "If you recognize the ship or the markings, tell me now. If not, gear up. We're going aboard."

"If I recognize the ship, I can stay here?" she questioned archly, repeating his words.

"No," he refused, silently cursing his misplaced clause. He was a captain, not an English teacher! "Either way, you're going. We may need a doctor once we're on board."

"It's a dead ship, Jon," she noted.

"It shows some power signatures," he protested. "It couldn't have been lost long. There may still be survivors."

"Not with this many hull ruptures," she noted, pointing to the gasps of air in the vacuum of space that Mayweather had also noticed. "This dome…" she laid her fingers on the view screen in Sickbay. "Scans of this dome seem to indicate a large number of plants. Maybe I should grab a pot of Denobulan lilies from the greenhouse to communicate with the vegetables on that ship?"

Now she was just messing with him. Archer tried not to roll his eyes. "Grab an EV suit and a medical kit. We leave in an hour." He stalked out the double doors of Sickbay trying not to think of how big a pain in the ass that woman was! He was going to give Admiral Gardiner an earful for bringing her on board. At lease she was only here for four more months!

Andie watched the captain go. She had the good sense to wait until the doors closed before muttering "Pain in my ass," into the gray fur on top of Jojo's head. She finished jabbing the hypo into the cat's neck, full of mandatory vitamins for growing kitties, before releasing the feline to move freely about the wide room. The first thing timid Jojo did was to run and with one giant leap soar to the top of the cupboards and make herself comfortable on a pillow on a shelf near the ceiling, where she felt safe. She had a view of all the comings and goings of the room but was unreachable from down below. Leon would surely join here there. He would lick her ears and allow her to sit on the edge of the cushion. Together they would watch the humans below.

Enterprise: Launch Bay

One hour later

The Launch Bay was crowded when Andie reached it, carrying her heavy case and dressed in her cumbersome gold environmental suit with a few minutes to spare. Archer was there; so was Trip Tucker. Unfortunately, so was Reed. The tactical officer held out a phase pistol and she debated arguing with him over whether or not she should wear one, as she had the first time she'd joined an away team. She stared at the pistol for a long moment, before wordlessly accepting it and tucking it onto the belt at her side. She couldn't help a sly grin at Reed. He'd once tried to make her re-take her weapons certification with him, and had wound up with a blank phase pistol cartridge used for training purposes being discharged against his backside. He remained convinced that she'd done it out of spite, while she continued to insist that it had been an unfortunate, if slightly funny, accident. After all this time, Reed was still not amused.

She descended into the shuttle and the others soon joined her. The room was sealed off, the double doors were opened and the shuttle was dropped down into the blackness outside. Archer sat at the navigational controls and Trip sat in the chair just behind him, the better to get a look outside. Reed and Andie faced off on opposite sides of the bench seats in the back. While Malcolm studied the PADD in front of him as though it contained the mysteries of the universe, Andie just watched Reed.

Her attention made him squirm, especially since Trip was within spitting distance. The engineer might be focused on the large saucer-like ship ahead of them, but that didn't give her leave to ogle him like...what? Like catnip to a starving cat, he decided. Did cats eat catnip, or did they just chew it to make them feel good? He vowed to look that up when he got back to the ship. Right now he had to concentrate on doing his job, and not on the blond woman's chameleon gaze.

Archer guided the little ship through the edges of the asteroid field to the derelict ship. He even made one whole pass around the vessel to seek out any hidden surprises. Trip pointed out what looked like an airlock and they made their way to it. They couldn't get a hard seal to secure life-support to the away team.

"Helmets on!" Archer chirped. He ignored Andie's dour expression in response to his cheeriness as she settled the helmet on her head and pressurized her suit. As soon as the docking arm was sealed against the side of the ship ensuring the pod would not drift away and leave them stranded, Trip reached up and unlocked the seals around the hatch. Before he could open the portal, Reed interjected.

"I'd like to go first, if you don't mind," Malcolm stated, lifting the phase pistol out of his holster. "You don't know what we might find in there." His voice was muffled by the speakers in the EV helmet.

"If anyone's alive, I don't want them worried about an armed man entering their ship unannounced," Archer objected.

"I'll attempt to look friendly, sir," Reed promised.

"Don't forget; this is a rescue mission first and foremost," Archer warned as his tactical officer lifted off the ground and drifted through the hatch in the zero-gravity atmosphere.

In a few moments, Reed's voice came through the comm channels into the helmets of those listening below. "All clear up here, sir. It's disgusting, but it's all clear."

Archer flipped open his communicator and sent word to Enterprise. "We're entering the ship now. We'll check back in one hour."

"Acknowledged," T'Pol's voice carried over the static.

Archer waved Trip up through the opening, and the engineer drifted away.

"After you," Jon swept his arm in invitation to the doctor.

"Haven't you heard?" Andie retorted. "It's disgusting up there. Please, after you." She mimicked his sweeping arm.

"Afraid to get dirty, Doc?" Archer teased, getting a grip on the portal.

"Yeah, that's my problem," she snorted as he drifted away from her. For some reason she couldn't put a finger on, she hesitated before following him into the alien ship. Taking a deep breath, she pushed off and drifted through the weightlessness of space. In a few moments she was standing beside the team in the corridor of a strange ship.

Reed was right. It was disgusting inside.

Alien ship: Docking hatch

The alien ship wasn't entirely lifeless; some atmosphere remained, although not enough to sustain the away team. There was also evidence of gravity plating, however it wasn't working at maximum efficiency either, evidenced by lightweight flotsam that drifted idly on unseen drafts like autumn leaves in a light breeze. The main corridor stretched fore and aft as far as the eye could see, curving gently in a wide circle. It reminded Trip of a doughnut wrapped around a transparent apple. He said as much to Reed, who told him he should have had a bigger breakfast before Archer arrived. Andie drifted through the hatch and activated the gravity seal on her boots, planting herself on the floor with a cringe as it squished softly under her boots.

In several locations along the passage there were piles of biological material that lay in sticky lumps against the wall and floor. There was a low level gravity field inside and some of the tendrils of bio-matter waved in the air like streamers at a party. Andie whipped out a scanner and took some readings of the spongy bio-matter while the others tried to determine which direction to go. She knelt down to scrape a sample into a specimen jar. Her gasp caught their attention over the open comm. channel connecting all their helmets.

"What's wrong?" Trip was the first at her side.

"Turn your lights on this spot right here," Andie indicated with her gloved finger. Gingerly she poked at the thing that caught her attention with a glass tubule from her kit. "It's an eye," she said, turning her head this way and that for a better glimpse.

In spite of their best intentions, Trip and Archer both took steps backward. "An eye? Where's the rest of his head?" Trip demanded.

Andie continued poking at the bio-matter on the ground. "I think this is his head," she announced, spooning the liquefied goo into the air and letting it drizzle back to the sticky deck plating. The light gravity let it drizzle slowly like a spider web back to its original pile.

"Be careful!" Reed warned her. "A ball of material that looked like goo once took hostages in the Cargo Bay."

"I don't think this is sentient. Or at least, it's not anymore." She determined. With a shrug she screwed the lid back on her sample container and stored it in the medical kit.

"Can you determine cause of death?" Reed asked, his hand immediately creeping closer to the phase pistol at his side.

"My preliminary exam suggests he was liquefied," she answered dryly. "And you realize I use the male gender as a generalization here without being certain that this pile of goo even has gender."

Turning around she saw Reed had drawn his phase pistol. She sighed. "Is that necessary?"

"Something broke the hull and something left those," he indicated the piles of goo. "That something might still be here."

Archer looked around them. "This passage continues in a straight line in both directions. If we split up we can search the ship for survivors much quicker."

"Do you really expect to find survivors?" Reed asked in a low voice.

"We're going to look anyway, just in case!" Archer spoke firmly. "How would you feel if rescue came so close and then turned away because it was unpleasant?"

Reed noticed the doctor eyeing Archer with a thoughtful look on her face. He caught her glance and frowned at her. He couldn't say why that calculating look made him uneasy, but it did. Whatever she was thinking, it didn't bode well for Archer.

"The doctor and I will head aft," Reed announced to the surprise of his team. He reached down to help the doctor to her feet, not that she needed it in the weightless atmosphere.

Jon had a different idea. "Actually the doctor and I will head aft," he announced. "You and Trip head forward. See if you can find the bridge."

Trip looked a little put out. "I can go with Andie," he offered with a smile to the female.

"Am I popular or doesn't anyone want to get stuck with Archer?" Andie smiled.

"Watch it!" Archer growled.

"You're the boss," she pointed out petulantly. "Nobody wants to get stuck with the boss. It's a fact!"

"Well, you're stuck with me," he told her with finality. "Trip, take Malcolm forward. We'll keep open comm. lines in case anything unexpected comes up." Jon pointed in the direction he intended to go and waited until Andie picked up her kit and started in that direction.

Reed and Trip exchanged significant glances before splitting away to head in the opposite direction.

Alien ship: Aft Corridor

The corridors were wide and dark. Except for the piles of bio-matter, there wasn't any sign of life. The bio-matter itself was a problem; giving off faint bio-readings even though there was no way anything survived in the remaining puddles. Walking through the ship and trying not to step on the frequent piles of what were possibly former sentient beings was difficult.

"Why are you so concerned about searching a ship that is clearly empty?" Andie asked, picking her way through the increasingly gooey corridor. This one was pale pink in color; that one was gold. The colors may once have been articles of clothing.

"There's something here," Archer told her. "I want to know what it is before it attacks my ship."

"What makes you so sure something's here?"

"The piles of goo," he answered shortly.

Andie looked at him blankly.

"This ship is open to space," Jon told her. "Space is cold, freezing even. The piles of goo are soggy. They are not frozen solid. Something's here, heating up the ship." He didn't mean to sound condescending, but he did. He continued walking ahead.

"Could just be an engine that was left on," she offered.

"The deck plating isn't vibrating."

"Maybe their inertial dampeners are more advanced than ours."

"And maybe there's something else here. That's why we're investigating." He turned around to hit her with his best paternal leader face when he noticed she wasn't right behind him. The speaker whispering in his ear was deceptive.

She was just a few steps away, having stopped short. Andie was peering up at the dark wall on the interior of the ship. They'd walked far enough that the large dome rising out of the center of the ship extended in an arc above their heads, visible through the many portholes that lined the ceiling of the arching corridor. "The dome should be through that wall," She indicated with a gloved finger.

"Yeah?" Archer stood beside her and craned his neck to look upward. "It's dark right here."

"The dome was transparent on top," Andie noted. "Why would they shade it down below? Unless…" she stepped forward and rested a gloved hand against the inner wall of the alien ship.

Archer reached out to stop her but he was too late. Something behind the darkened glass woke up. Something blinked at them. The eye was dark and wet, much like the bio-matter piles around their feet, but this inky black eye was fully aware of its surroundings on the other side of the dome.

Something knew they were here.

Andie gasped and drew back her hand. All along the darkened glass, other eyes opened. Dozens, even hundreds of eyes watched them. The writhing darkness suddenly stilled on the other side of a transparent fabric that the humans could only hope was stronger than regular glass before going dark again. All the eyes snapped closed at the same time.

"They're pressed up against the glass," Archer said, the words close to her ear through the speaker in her helmet. "There are thousands of them! They've filled the dome!"

"They're reproducing," Andie corrected him grimly. "That's why the seal was missing on the airlock. The vegetation that was in there…they're feeding on it. They're eating everything edible then breeding like crazy." A chill ran down her spine. "We're fresh meat for their newest born." She looked at Archer. "They are locked in there, right?"

Peering mistrustfully at the darkened wall, Archer picked up his communicator. "Trip, Reed? Can you hear me?"

"There doesn't seem to be any life forms, Captain," Trip's voice crackled over the speaker. "Just emptiness and goop. I can't make heads or tails out of their bridge console. Wait! I think…."

"Trip? Don't touch anything!" Archer shouted. Static crept in over his hand-held communicator.

"There are holes in the hull that couldn't have occurred naturally," Reed chimed in. "There are places that look as though they were...chewed open."

"Lieutenant! Don't touch anything! Make for the airlock!" Archer shouted. He reached out to guide the doctor, and it didn't take much encouragement to get her moving. Andie was way ahead of him, scooting around the piles and making for the hatch in their shuttle pod with all possible haste just before she went down.

Alien Ship: Forward Corridor

In the circular cabin that had been the bridge for this vessel, Trip was making little progress. The alien language that labeled everything was a series of vertical lines. It was like trying to read a bar code. It frustrated him to hear a slight hum that indicated machinery was at work, but he couldn't figure out what it did. Plus, he had other things on his mind.

"I can't hear anything," Trip shook his communicator roughly as though trying to shake some sense into the machine.

"You shouldn't have dropped it into a pile of goo," Malcolm told him severely.

"I didn't plan it!" Trip protested. "The floor just gave way beneath me, like it was made of soggy bread!"

"I repeat my suggestion that you should have dined on a hearty breakfast before we started this mission," Reed teased Trip some more.

"You keep that up, Loo-tenant, and I'll find some way to make you bring me breakfast in bed for a week!" Trip countered.

"I live to serve, Commander," Malcolm retorted. His head turned sharply as a slight movement caught his eye. "Did you see something?" He started toward the second door set into the wall. The doors were half-circles that pushed apart in the center. He reached out his hand.

"Trip, Reed? Can you hear me?" The captain's voice crackled over their helmet speakers. Reed jumped at the unexpected sound before glaring at Trip for chuckling.

"There doesn't seem to be any life forms, Captain," Trip raised his voice to be heard over the growing crackle in the speaker. "Just emptiness and goop. I can't make heads or tails out of their bridge console. Wait! I think…." The engineer's voice trailed off as he buried his head in the main computer panel. He'd been hoping to find some record of the misfortune that had befallen the craft and a blinking light had suddenly caught his attention. The captain was shouting something but it wasn't translating over the comm.

Reed gripped Trip's arm with one hand even as he pressed the transmitter button with his other. "There are holes in the hull that couldn't have occurred naturally," Reed chimed in. "There are places that look as though they were...chewed open. Let's not touch anything."

"Yeah, I'm almost ready," Trip grunted, pulling one final time on a square chunk of metal. "It's like they got this jammed in there real good." Finally it came free and Trip flew backward to land heavily on a pile of debris. He glared as Malcolm chuckled. The armory officer pulled him to his feet and helped check his EV suit for tears while Trip triumphantly struggled with the unit in his hand. He removed the small cylinders that most likely carried the memory core and the two men headed back in the direction of the airlock.

Trip couldn't help but notice how often Reed turned around to peer into the darkness behind them. "You think something's gonna jump outta the dark and grab me?" Trip chortled. "You can't come to movie night anymore!"

The armory officer continued to search the darkness around them while shaking his own communicator uselessly. "I think we just lost contact with the captain and the doctor. Let's hurry up," Reed stated with determination, still holding his silent device. It was probably just the graviton field in the asteroid belt they were exploring. That thought didn't offer him any comfort.

"We can't have lost contact," Trip refused to believe. "Let me see your communicator." The engineer reached out a hand. That's when they saw it; Trip's glove was coming apart. It was melting around his fingers where Trip's hand and communicator had met with a gooey pile while trying to remain upright on their way to the bridge area. The white safety foam that was usually deployed to prevent minor tears from opening wide was not filling up the damaged patch. "Oh my God! It's going to depressurize my suit!"

Reed stopped Trip from turning and running back to the airlock. He reached into a pocket in his EV suit and pulled out a tube of instant sealant. He broke the cap off and drizzled a hefty blob onto Trip's dissipating glove. "That'll keep you for a short time," Reed announced. "Let's hurry back to the airlock."

"Do you always carry sealant?" Trip gasped.

"Have you ever been impaled while wearing an EV suit?" Malcolm countered. "Let's go." During their brief job back to the shuttle pod, Malcolm could almost imagine the phantom pains in his upper thigh from the alien probe that had pinned him to the hull. He was relieved to find Archer and Andie lingering at the airlock hatch when they arrived. Andie was limping. Her EV suit bore a ring of heavy tape around her calf.

"She sank through the floor like it was made of rotten wood," Archer panted. "Something burned a hole in her suit."

"Are you all right?" Trip reached out a hand, but it was the one covered in goo and he didn't dare touch anything.

"I always carry heavy-duty engineering tape with me," she nodded, pale behind her transparent helmet.

"Do you now?" Trip repeated with a sudden grin at Malcolm.

"Have you ever been stuck in a cargo hold that's losing pressure by the second?" She countered archly. "You look like you had a run-in too." She gestured to his gooey hand.

"It was almost a flesh wound," Trip acknowledged grimly.

Archer had paused long enough to make sure the landing party was in one piece before sliding down the narrow opening through which they had arrived. Reed was peering into the hole, waiting to send the next crewman down after when Archer's head popped back up. "Isn't this the hatch where we parked our shuttle?" he asked.

"Of course it is!" Malcolm insisted.

"That's not funny, Cap'n!" Trip added.

Beside him, Andie gulped loudly. "Dude, where's our shuttle?"

"It's not where we left it," Archer supplied irritably.

"FUBAR," she muttered with a look over one shoulder at the darkness behind her. She tried not to think of all the places that a tiny space creature could be hiding in the gloom behind her.

"What is FUBAR?" Trip asked. Although he was accustomed to her cursing in a variety of alien languages, in addition to the usual English ones, he was doubly surprised when Reed answered first.

"Fouled Up Beyond All Recognition," Malcolm supplied before the doctor's more colorful language could be called into play. He took a turn to peer into the darkened tube that had once housed a functional airlock. His view was impeded by the captain still loitering there.

"That's one interpretation," Andie muttered dryly as she arched an eyebrow. "What would you call FUBAR?" Reed held up his hands to indicate he had no idea. "I'd say when you're stuck on a ship of carnivores and your shuttle isn't where you left it. That's FUBAR." She was quite proud of the way her voice did not quiver with nerves when she stated the obvious.

Trip nudged Reed aside to take his turn at poking his head into the shaft to get a look at the problem, trying not to touch anything with his recently repaired and still slightly sticky glove.

The shuttle pod that had transported them over here so efficiently was no longer holding its seal on the busted airlock hatch below them.

It was gone. And they were stuck.

"Did you say carnivores?" Trip repeated with concern, his blue gaze following Andie's into the dark corridor behind them.

"It's a working theory," Andie offered blandly. "It would account for the piles of bio-matter lying around."

"Maybe there aren't any left on board," Trip suggested. "Maybe they got their fill and left."

"They're breeding in the dome," she answered. "There are more of them now. And they know we're here."