Disclaimer: Don't own it.. Wish I did, (but if there's anyone who wants to know what to get me for my Birthday...) May Gene rest his heart (Bless him!) And may Brad come to his senses and put in some more action!

A.N: OK, as I sit here, I have absolutely no idea how this is going to go. I don't even know what it is that I'm doing. For those who are wondering, it's about half an hour until the hour of witching, and I am soooo going to pay for this, so you'd better enjoy it.

"My wife!!!" the battered stranger cried meekly, as he struggled to get up from the bed. Phlox looked down in concern at the blood-smeared man, his eyes showing the panic that seemed to be almost consuming him. "Calm down! I am going to see if we can find her. But I do need to treat you." Nimbly his hands prepared the equipment, "hold still please." The man dropped into unconsciousness as the spray hit his neck. With expert precision, he fixed the man's broken limbs and ribs. Just as he finished the last rib, one of his enlisted assistants shouted in alarm. Phlox rushed over to see a pair of rather familiar brown eyes staring back, green blood covering her face, her slightly gray hair messed and matted. But she was bleeding internally. "My husband... Where is he? I need him!!!" she whispered urgently. Without warning, her readings went critical. Oh, spirits! Please don't let this be true! He thought to himself, "We need to operate on her immediately!" he called out to the team. They surrounded the bed, and moved the woman out. Her skin looked pale, and her pointed ears were almost as white as sheets.

"Report!" Jonathan barked from the command chair, his bright green eyes blazing. The bridge shuddered around them, phaser fire slamming Enterprise.

"There's heavy damage to the hull, aft plating is down to 35%, engines are at the very least functioning. As for everything else, well, what can I say? Just about everything else isn't worth speaking of." Lieutenant Reed said in disgust. He looked down at his sparking and crackling board. He cursed. "Do we have weapons?" Jon demanded, "Cause if we do, then now would be a good time to hit them with everything that we've got!" Malcolm smiled, "Aye sir. Giving 'em hell. Torpedoes away, all phase cannons firing." He said with satisfaction. He hit at his pad with a sense of satisfaction. The screen blinded them all suddenly, before everything went dark. "Oh shit!" came Trip's voice over the comm. This rather mild expletive was followed by a stream of curses that made T'Pol's eyebrow shoot well up into her bangs. Everyone else looked. It wasn't everyday that the bridge was treated to such.language. Jon eyes went wide in shock, "What the! Trip what the heck is wrong!?" he looked over to T'Pol, who was as white as a sheet. There was a pause, "Cap'n, the damn' bastards blew out the warp engines! I ain't too sure how long it'll take to repair the damage, but it'll be a while." With a groan, Jon slumped back into the chair. He massaged his temples. It was one of those days. The comm. beeped again. "Archer here. What's up?" he said in exasperation. There was a breath, "Captain, I think you should get down to sickbay immediately. There's something that I think you should see." Oh crap. Nothing good ever came from the words "There's something I think you should see." With a groan, Jon stood up, "Reed, you're in charge here." Almost instantly, T'Pol was by his side. Together they entered the lift, and began towards sickbay, and whatever it was that they would find there.

Both were lost within their own worlds as the lift took them towards their destination. Almost absentmindedly, Jon's eyes came to rest on T'Pol's face. She almost looked troubled. A small frown seemed to crease at the corners of her mouth, and her eyes betrayed what was going on underneath the calm fa├žade that was her mask.

Without warning, there was a huge jolt! The lift came grinding to a halt, throwing T'Pol into Jon. The lights dimmed down to a faint flicker. Struggling to suppress a groan, Jonathan pulled himself up to his feet. In the dim light, he could see T'Pol's outline. "You all right, T'Pol?" he asked. "Yes, I am fine. Are you injured, Captain?" she questioned. Her outline walked towards him, and surprisingly strong hands gripped him and pulled him upwards. For a second, he almost heard an echo through the vaults of his mind. Then, it was gone. "Uh, yeah. I'm all right." He stumbled. What had that been? T'Pol gave him a penetrating look that he could feel even through the dark, "Then I suggest that we get ourselves out of here, and seek an answer to what has occurred. Now, would you please give me a leg up?" Mentally shrugging, he put out his hands. T'Pol briskly climbed onto them, before jimmying open the escape hatch. She slithered her way out, and onto the top of the lift. A hand came down in front of Jon's face, and he was lifted through the entrance. For her size, T'Pol sure had a lot more muscle than he expected!

The maintenance shaft was cramped and stuffy. It also didn't help that they were being thrown every which way by the jolting of the ship. Desperately, he looked for a comm. panel. Whoa! What the hell is going on out there?! He thought as he was once again thrown into T'Pol. Well, no matter what, he was going to find out.

*One mind reached for another, searching desperately for the safety from the storm. Around, the physical world shook, rolled and jerked. That was unimportant. What mattered was finding them, finding the support. In an absolute act of desperation, the mind called out a name: ~ T'Pol!!!!~ It was greeted by the weak presence of his better half, and, for just a moment, he found comfort. Yet all was not right. She knew it. Gently, he tried to calm her down through their bond, giving her his strength. For just a moment....*

A/N: so what do you think? All review are well appreciated!(Flames inc.) Please tell me if you can find any mistakes, but my stupid spellchecker says that there are none (the same as it did for my other stories...) so all blame is sent to microsoft. If you want more, than review. Ready, steady, GO!!!