CHAPTER 18

JONATHAN ARCHER STOOD UP as the door chime on his ready room jingled. “Come in.”

T’Pol and Tucker came in, oddly side by side and not even spitting. What had gone on here while he was incommunicado?

“I’ve just gotten a response to the message I sent to Admiral Forrest,” he told them. “He enjoyed telling the Vulcan High Command about the Suliban we ran into. It’s not every day he gets to be the one dispensing information.”

T’Pol looked quizzical, but she got the inference. Archer grinned and decided he owed Forrest an apology. The admiral had proven more canny than Archer had given him credit for. They now had a formally logged record of humans and Vulcans working together under duress, with two completely different methods of command—and doing all right together. Starfleet could do worse. It gave them all a platform from which to spring.

“I wanted you both to hear Starfleet’s new orders before I inform the crew.”

“Orders?” Tucker asked.

Archer nodded and looked at T’Pol. “Your people are sending a transport to pick you up.”

She seemed hesitant, but buried it. “I was under the impression that Enterprise would be taking me back to Earth.”

“It would be a little out of our way. Admiral Forrest sees no reason why we shouldn’t keep going.”

Tucker went up on his toes. “Son of a bitch!”

Archer smiled and agreed, “I have a feeling Dr. Phlox won’t mind staying around for a while. He’s developing a fondness for the human endocrine system.”

“I’ll get double watches on the repair work!”

“I think the outer hull’s going to need a little patching up,” Archer said. “Let’s hope that’s the last time somebody takes a shot at us.”

“Let’s hope!”

Oh, well, famous last words. We’ll see.

Tucker, now very happy, spun on a heel and headed for the door. T’Pol started to follow him, but Archer stopped her.

“Would you stick around for a minute?” he asked.

She glanced at Tucker as the door shut between them, but turned again to the captain.

“Ever since I can remember,” he began, “I’ve seen Vulcans as an obstacle, always keeping us from standing on our own two feet.”

“I understand,” she said quietly.

“No, I don’t think you do. If I’m going to pull this off, there are a few things I have to leave behind. Things like preconceptions ... holding grudges ...” He paused, and tilted his head to soften his meaning. “This mission would’ve failed without your help.”

“I won’t dispute that,” she said.

A retort popped up behind Archer’s tongue, but he bit it off. Maybe she was joking. “I was thinking a Vulcan science officer could come in handy ... but if I ask you to stay, it might look like I wasn’t ready to do this on my own.”

She raised her chin in that way she had. “Perhaps you should add pride to your list.”

“Perhaps I should.”

She considered his honesty, then said, “It might be best if I were to contact my superiors and make the request myself. With your permission,” she added decorously.

Finally they understood each other. It felt good to be on the same page.

Archer smiled again. “Permission granted.”

They stood together in companionable unity for a few moments as the ship streaked along at its new high-warp cruising speed.

“Will you join me on the bridge, Sub-Commander?” he asked, and gestured toward the door. “We have some good news for the crew, don’t we?”

“Captain,” she said with a lilt, “I will be honored to assist.”

The other crew members were at their stations as he and T’Pol came out of the ready room. They might have suspected something was going on, but they seemed to be assuming the worst. Reed was straight as a stick. Mayweather was leaning forward on his helm controls, almost sagging. Hoshi’s eyebrows were both up in anticipation. Tucker’s absence bothered Archer a little, but he knew the engineer was larking about belowdecks, doing what he liked to do.

Archer came to a place on the bridge where he could see them all, and they could all see him. T’Pol politely moved a little off to one side and let him have the stage.

“I hope nobody’s in a big hurry to get home,” he began. “Starfleet seems to think we’re ready to begin our mission. Mr. Reed, I understand there is an inhabited planet a few light-years from here?”

“Sensors show a nitrogen-sulfide atmosphere,” Reed said, not exactly confirming or dismissing what Archer had just said.

“Probably not humanoids,” Hoshi clarified.

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Archer reminded. “Travis, prepare to break orbit and lay in a course.”

Mayweather looked up at him, beaming. “I’m reading an ion storm on that trajectory, sir ... should I go around it?”

Archer smiled at him, at all of them, and turned to look at the swirl of open space, all the oxtails and elephant trunks, nebulae and anomalies out there to be gone through, and he brushed his toe on the deck of the ship that would take them there.

“We can’t be afraid of the wind, Ensign,” he said. “Take us to warp four.”