For the past several days, whenever he hadnt been preoccupied with some emergency or otherhis life‑or‑death duel on QonoS sprang instantly, not to mention painfully, to mindArcher had mentally rehearsed what he planned to say to TPol and Malcolm once they returned. The chance that they might notmake it back had been a variable he hadnt allowed himself to consider; he couldnt bear to dwell on the possibility that he might have lost two more of his most valuable officers and friends so soon after Trips “death.
But now, as his reunion with the two errant officers neared, he felt his anger being pushed into the recesses of his mind by a rising sense of relief; his momentary pleasure at that unexpected feeling calmed his soul. Whether the root cause was mere fatigue or an emotional ricochet off the ceaseless frustrations all the recent political uncertainty within both Starfleet and the Coalition Council had caused him, by the time he reached the entrance to Launch Bay Two he had settled into an almost Vulcan state of serenity.
The hatch slid open in front of him, and Archer saw that Ensign Bougie was scuttling about outside the newly docked shuttlepod, making post‑flight checks of the little ships outer hull and external propulsion components. The launch bays magnetic docking arm stood just above the shuttlepods roof, and the launch bay air seemed charged with expectation, along with the traditional chill it usually carried immediately after the bay had been repressurized.
“Ensign, Id like a bit of privacy to welcome my officers back aboard, Archer said.
Bougie looked up, apparently surprised and caught in mid‑thought, his mouth twisted to one side. “Yes, sir, he said finally, gathering his materials up quickly. Archer noted that he still used old‑style writing implements and clipboards, checking off the items on his duty list manually rather than relying on computers and datapads.
A few moments later Archer had positioned himself directly outside the shuttlepod, standing beside its stabilizer wing as he waited for the dorsal hatch to open. TPol exited first, followed by Reed. Both wore dark, tight‑fitting but otherwise nondescript clothing, which was partially covered by loose Vulcan‑style travelers robes.
“Welcome back aboard Enterprise,Archer said, inflating his words with an air of laconic drollness. In spite of himself, he was enjoying the look of discomfiture he saw on both their faces, especially Malcolms.
“Captain, we can explain, Reed said in a guilt‑ridden tone, before TPol had even had a chance to open her mouth.
Archer released a long exhalation through pursed lips. He wanted to ask after Trip Tucker, whose absence now seemed as conspicuous as a corpse at a funeral. At the moment, however, he was in no mood to hear what could well prove to be very bad news. Instead of saying anything, he opted instead merely to smile as he held both arms out before him, making the universal gesture for “give me a hug.
“You can save your explanations for later, he said. “First, are both of you all right?
Reed stepped awkwardly into the hug, half embracing Archer while patting him on the back lightly, though just hard enough to force him to suppress a wince. TPol merely stood in place, looking nearly as awkward as Reed did.
“We managed to make it back in one piece, with no scratches or dents, as has the shuttlepod, Reed said in overemphatic tones as he pulled back just enough to make a close study of Archers bruised face. “Which is apparently more than we can say about you, Captain.
“Cracked ribs, Archer said. “I had a mean encounter with a Klingon admiral, but I think he ended up looking even worse than I do. Long story, short ending.
“Like I said, well have a long talk later about what the hell you two were doing when you took that shuttlepod, Archer said, trying to color his words with the same stern, scolding authority he remembered from the occasional childhood reprimands he had received from his father. “All Im going to say on the subject right now is that Im getting a bit tired of my most trusted officers deciding that the rules dont apply to them. Finding a detour off the main road doesnt automatically make it the route to take. And ifmy most trusted officers want to continuebeing my most trusted officers, theyd better have an explicit understanding that there will notbe any more detours.
TPol raised an eyebrow. “Captain, you have my sincere apologies. Our actions wereinappropriate and badly timed. I hope that you will allow me and Lieutenant Reed to make amends.
Archer turned and strode in the direction of the hatchway that led out of the launch bay and deeper into E decks interior, TPol and Reed following in his wake. “As far as anyone on this ship other than myself is concerned, you wont needto make amends. Phlox is the only person other than the three of us who knows that what you did wasnt authorized. Everybody else thinks you were on some kind of secret spy mission for Starfleet.
“Which is true, except for the Starfleet part, Reed said, grinning sheepishly.
Archer turneda bit too sharply for his ribsand growled, “Nobody else needs to know that. My log will show that TPol needed a lotof therapeutic meditation, and that you, Malcolm, were in your quarters recovering from the worst case of the Altairian quick‑step in the history of human space exploration.
Reed made a face, but said nothing in response.
“Captain, the ship that helped ferry us in and out of Romulan space was a Vulcan intelligence vessel, TPol said.
“I was wondering how you were going to manage to pull off that part of your plan, Archer said. “You wereflying a short‑range Starfleet shuttlepod, after all.
“Apparently, a craft as small as a shuttlepod canescape detection even deep inside Romulan space so long as it calls no undue attention to itself, TPol said. “Unfortunately, the only way we could discover that fact was to proceed with our plan.
“Gaining access to a Vulcan spys rather detailed Romulan star charts didnt hurt either, Reed added.
Archer stared at him as the hatch that led to E decks corridors opened in front of them. “Youve got maps? The official Coalition maps of the Romulan Empire were astonishingly incomplete, cobbled together mainly by means of long‑range scans. Archer didnt know what good Reeds maps would do anyone at the moment, but he suspected that they might become extremely valuable in the days ahead.
Reed nodded, grinning an “aw‑shucks grin that he had developed after four years of close association with Trip. “I certainly hope those maps will buy us back some of the goodwill weve lost.
“Ill consider it a down payment, Archer said. “As long as it stays in trustworthy hands, and away from certain shady characters I could name. The idea of having a resource that the mysterious black‑garbed Agent Harris and his secretive Starfleet intelligence organization might lack appealed to him greatly.
Reed swiped his index finger across his chest, miming the letter X. “Cross my heart, sir. This little adventure of ours had nothingto do with the bureau.
As they approached the central turboshaft, TPol spoke again. “Captain, while we docked with the Vulcan vessel, we also discovered some intelligence related to you.
“Me? Archer said as he came to a stop just outside the turbolift door, which slid obediently open for him.
She nodded. “We know, for instance, about the evidence you presented to the Coalition Council concerning the Romulans and this new ability of theirs to remotely commandeer Klingon vessels.
As the trio stepped into the turbolift, Archer said, “Good. That ought to make it easier to persuade the Council not to get caught up in the wrong war against the wrong enemy. The doors hissed closed and Archer directed the turbolift to A deck, and the bridge.
“Our understanding, at least from those aboard the Vulcan ship, TPol said, “was that the Vulcan government may be far more inclined to accept your interpretation of the danger posed by the Romulans than are the other Coalition members.