The doors whoosh open to admit Christine and a security officer half-carrying another security officer between them. And there's no second crewman, no sign of the man they went to get.

"He bolted," she explains, calling over her shoulder as they dump the redshirt onto a bed. She pauses for a moment, a hand going to her side with a sharp breath in, and then she's busy with the redshirt on the bed, the other one hurrying out of medbay to join the search.

"We were talking to him, everything seemed fine. I even got a blood sample. Then out of nowhere he flies at us. He got away. Security is searching the ship."