Two Vulcombies walk stiff-leggedly around, and the Uh-Oh calls Quantum over. "What are they doing?" Reed asks. We see the Vulcombies standing over the manhole opening to the sh'pod. If they heard a doorbell, do you think the Vulcombies would belch, "You raaaang?" Instead of taking their shots and stunning the Bridgekeepers out of the way so they can escape, Capt. Moron wastes time trying to explain themselves. Unfortunately, it's long been established that you can't reason with creatures with warty faces and hollowed-out eyes, so the Vulcombies flip a switch and raise the drawbridge on the Away Team, completely blocking them from any access to their ship. T'Pol tells them that there isn't another way to the airlock, just as more Vulcombies burst through other doors. "Doesn't anyone have a stake on them?" the Evil Dr. Mathra demands.
They fire, run, fire, fall down, fire, run. Fight scene at night, recapper's delight.
The Away Team crawls up a trapdoor. True to The House on Vulcan Hill, the Vulcombies grab at Quantum's legs and try to pull him down. Luckily, the three members of the Away Team are much stronger than a horde of crazed Vulcans -- who surely possess fiendish super-strength on top of the strength that is significant to their race -- so the captain is pulled to safety. Whew! Quantum tries to comm Enterprise, but all the phone lines were snipped by a gloved hand, so he can't get through. Plus, I think it's raining. T'Pol thinks they can possibly use the comm system on the Bridge, which is seven decks above them. Did she say "Se7en"? Quantum starts to climb, and Reed asks how many Vulcans are on board. T'Pol guesses one hundred forty-seven -- if they're all alive. For some reason, this makes Reed decide that going for the Selaya's launchbay is a good idea. He wants to boost one of their pods. Just make sure the license plate doesn't say "Chr'stine." Because, you know, it might be named for Nurse Chapel. In the future. I don't know. Quantum, tired of going up and down three rungs while no one follows, insists that they have to get to their own sh'pod, but T'Pol points at a red screen and says that all four bulkheads leading the airlock have been sealed. The Vulcombies make "breaking through to the other side" noises on the trapdoor, and Quantum stomps on it. To...scare them? Quantum checks on the Uh-Oh's arm who insists that he's fine. However, Reed says he's losing a lot of blood and they have to treat the wound. Quantum asks the way to Sickbay. Do you know the way to Si-i-ckbay? Sorry, but living out here means that a trip to Palo Alto gets "Do You Know The Way To San Jose?" stuck in my head for three days. Those stupid eBay commercials aren't helping matters either. T'Pol gives weak directions, and as soon as Reed and the Uh-Oh are out of sight, Quantum asks a waning T'Pol if she's okay. "Since we've come aboard I've been experiencing anxiety. Whatever's happened to this crew maybe starting to affect me," T'Pol tells him. Quantum promises they'll get her out of there as soon as they can. And he's even nice about it! Sit, Quantum, sit! Good boy.
Meanwhile, the Acting Captain sees fit to leave his Acting Command and lark about the asteroid field with May-All-That-They-Could-And-Do-Leave-Behind. I don't think Trip needs to worry about his little grey cells becoming cervelle de veaux for the Vulcombies any time soon either. May-All-That-They-Could-And-Do-Leave-Behind sets them down so they can wield a pick-axe, lick it, and spit, "Nuthin'!" May-All-That-They-Could-And-Do-Leave-Behind's landing is a little asteroidy, and he comments, "I hope you won't write that landing up in your log." "Are you kidding? I'm going to recommend you for a medal!" Trip announces. "The Medal of the Unknown Soldier?" the Evil Dr. Mathra wonders. May-All-That-They-Could-And-Do-Leave-Behind and Trip walk around the asteroid.