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"THE BRIAR PATCH" By Dinah Rating: PG Author’s note: I want to thank all of you for your reviews. I really appreciate it. This chapter includes some mild profanity. I hope no one is offended by it. It seemed appropriate for the situation. I also want to extend my sincere thanks to Blacknblue and Rigil Kent for their invaluable assistance.
CHAPTER 6: ARCHER “Do you have a minute, Captain?” Damn! No matter what he did, Jonathan Archer couldn’t seem to catch a break. He knew perfectly well that Phlox was standing beside his command chair – and had been for the past three or four minutes. Why couldn’t the doctor take the hint and head back down to sickbay. It must be obvious that he didn’t want to talk to anybody just now, especially the resident pill pusher. “Captain?” “This isn’t a good time, Phlox,” Archer growled. “I’m busy.” “I’m afraid I must insist.” “Later.” “I have the results of your annual physical.” Wincing, Archer tightened his grip on the arms of the chair. He’d been avoiding the doctor ever since Phlox had browbeaten him getting a checkup. He’d guessed that the results weren’t going to be good, given the stress he’d been under for the past couple of months. The fact that the doctor felt that it was necessary to track him down and confront him on the bridge only confirmed that fact. Phlox stepped around the chair so that he was squarely in Archer’s line of sight. The no-nonsense look on his face made it clear that this time he didn’t intend to be denied. “Shall we take this conversation to your ready room?” Archer knew the doctor was right. He didn’t want his lousy medical report to become public knowledge. Grudgingly, he stood up and waved a hand theatrically in the general direction of his ready room. “After you, Doctor.” They’d only taken a couple of steps when Hoshi called out, “Captain, Admiral Gardner wants to speak with you.” When Phlox looked at her skeptically, she quickly added, “It’s important, sir.” The picture of innocence, Archer raised both hands. “I swear I didn’t put her up to this, Phlox. Admiral Gardner really does want to speak with me.” Phlox knew when he was beaten, but before he struck his colors he fired one final salvo. “I expect to see you in sickbay in half an hour, Captain. No more excuses.” “Don’t worry, I’ll be there.” Glad for reprieve – even one which lasted only for thirty minutes – Archer started for his ready room. As soon as the door slid open, he called over his shoulder to Hoshi, “Put the call through.” Once inside the room, away from the inquisitive eyes of the bridge crew, his shoulders sagged. He knew he’d only traded one problem for another. But that wasn’t too surprising. That was the story of his life: one problem right after another with no solutions in sight. He’d barely slid into his seat when Admiral Gardner’s face appeared on the monitor in front of him. The admiral didn’t look much better than Archer felt. Evidently it was a bad day all-around. “Lieutenant Reed’s on his way back to Enterprise,” the admiral said, ignoring the social amenities and moving straight to the subject at hand. “Did he see Trip?” “Yes, for all the good it did. Three days and Tucker hasn’t said more than, ‘I’m no spy,’ to anyone.” “That sounds like Trip. He’s too damn stubborn for his own good.” “You can say that again. We’ve brought in the best interrogators Starfleet has to offer. And so far we’ve got exactly nothing to show for it.” Gardner’s eyes bored into Archer. “I want you down here, Jon. Maybe you can get through to him.” Archer took a deep breath, struggling to control the anger he felt bubbling up from deep inside him. For the past three weeks, Starfleet had quietly been investigating a series of security leaks. Every time one of their investigators turned over a rock something damning crawled out, further implicating Commander Charles Tucker III. After piecing together bits and pieces, Starfleet Security had decided that Tucker apparently sold out Earth for nothing more than a little slap and tickle with T’Pol. While Archer didn’t buy that for a minute, he still wanted to throttle Trip for getting mixed up in this mess in the first place. He was sick to death of secrets and half-truths. He sure as hell didn’t want to see Trip or talk to him. It was just too damn bad he couldn’t think of a legitimate reason to tell the admiral to take a hike. Resigned, he finally muttered, “When?” “As soon as possible. The future of the Coalition, our relations with the Vulcans – everything’s on hold until we can get this situation resolved. If Tucker’s innocent, I want him back on the job. Evidently the High Council is willing to give him access to their meetings once again.” “And if he’s found guilty?” Gardner scrubbed a hand over his face. “Then we’re going to hang his ass out to dry. I don’t like it, but there it is. I suppose the Vulcans could have been manipulating him without his knowledge, but we have no choice but to make an example of him. We’re still the new kids on the block out here. Humans can’t afford to get a reputation for being easy marks.” “Have you located T’Pol yet?” “No,” Gardner snapped, his brow furrowing in a scowl. This was obviously a sore subject with him. “Starfleet Security screwed up royally when they let her slip through their fingers. From the information we’ve been able to gather so far, she’s as guilty as Tucker… probably more so. We should have known better than to allow someone trained by the Vulcan Ministry of Security to serve on one of our ships.” Jon stiffened. He’d expected something like this, but the words still stung nonetheless. Gardner knew full well who had pushed Starfleet into giving T’Pol a commission, and he had no intention of letting Archer forget it. “You’re wrong about T’Pol, Admiral. She hasn’t been anything but loyal.” Archer knew he was wasting his breath, but he still felt the need to defend his former first officer. In similar circumstances, he knew that she would do the same for him. “We would never have been able to stop the Xindi weapon without her help. She’s saved all our butts countless…” Gardner held up a hand, silencing him. “If she’s innocent, why hasn’t she come forward?” “Maybe she doesn’t think she’ll get a fair trial from Humans.” “We have no intention of railroading either of them. They’ll have their day in court. If they’re innocent, they have nothing to worry about.” Gardner nervously ran his fingers through his hair, suddenly reminding Archer of Trip. “Look, this isn’t getting us anywhere. Just get down here, the sooner the better.” Feeling restless, Jon started to rise from his chair, but quickly thought better of it and sat back down again. “Admiral, I’m not sure I’m the right man for the job.” Clearly taken by surprise, Gardner asked, “Why not?” “You’ve already brought in the best interrogators in Starfleet,” Archer hedged. “I seriously doubt that I could do any better…and besides I still have a lot of work to do on the convoy schedules.” Because of his former dealings with Ambassador Gral, Archer was one of a handful of people who had spent the past month trying to avert war between the Tellarites and the Andorians, who continued to deny that they were responsible for the attacks on the Tellarite ships. These Coalition representatives, minus the Vulcans who were once again conspicuous by their absence, managed to hammer out a deal at the last minute whereby Earth, Rigel and Coridan pledged to develop a convoy system to protect cargo vessels. The Tellarites, satisfied with the Coalition’s quick response to the crisis, agreed to hold off on delivering their ultimatum. Now all Jonathan Archer had to do was find a way to make the convoy system work. “I know you’re busy,” Gardner replied, “but this situation is every bit as volatile as the attacks on the Tellarites. You’re Tucker’s friend, aren’t you? If he’d talk to anybody, it would be you.” “I’m afraid we aren’t as close as we used to be,” Jon admitted tightly. “I seriously doubt that he’d confide in me.” It was a bitter admission for him to make. He and Trip had once been so close. Then the Xindi weapon had changed everything. He’d forced himself to remain isolated in the Expanse, to focus solely on the mission; it was the only way he knew to get the job done. When the Xindi threat was over, Jon had wanted to rekindle their friendship, but by that time it was like trying to repair a shattered pane of glass. He’d tried one more time to be a friend when Trip was battling depression. Tried and failed. Trip was more distant now than ever. Every spare moment was spent with the Vulcans. Jon balled his hands into two tight fists. How could Trip choose them over his own people? Gardner sat quietly and studied Archer. “I thought it was strange that you hadn’t tried to see him.” “Trip knows he could have come to me – we could have talked – but he didn’t. It’s a little late now. He’s made his bed.” “So you’ve made up your mind that he’s guilty.” Jon hesitated as he struggled to get past his feelings of betrayal. “No,” he finally answered. “Trip’s the most honorable man I know. I can’t believe it’s in him to commit treason.” Gardner nodded. “Then help us prove it. So far we’ve been able to keep this out of the media, but several reporters have already started sniffing around. You know what the mood’s been like on Earth lately. Once this gets out Tucker’s career will be ruined, whether he’s guilty or not. I don’t have to tell you what a loss that would be to our Warp 7 program, not to mention the damage this would do to any future diplomatic relations with the Vulcans.” “I understand.” Archer knew he’d pushed the admiral as far has he could. “Let me talk to Lieutenant Reed first.” “Do whatever you have to do, but I want you in the embassy by 14:00 today. That’s the time for Tucker’s next interrogation session. I’ll arrange for you to observe. After you’ve seen firsthand what we’re up against, I want you to talk to him.” “I’ll be there,” Archer replied, resigned now to his fate. “Good. I’ll be waiting for your report. Don’t let me down, Jon.” As soon as the admiral signed off, Archer sank back and buried his face in his hands. He’d been dreading this. It had been hard enough to confront Malcolm when he appeared to be in league with the Klingons. This shaped up to be a hundred times worse. But then he should have known that he couldn’t run from his responsibilities. He should have headed for the brig as soon as Trip was brought in. Face things and be done with them. That’s what his father had always taught him. Restlessly, Archer pushed himself out of his chair and walked over to the viewport. Why did everything have to change? The stars stayed the same. Why couldn’t he? Why couldn’t his friends? Trip had been an important part of his life for almost two decades. He’d loved him like a brother. And T’Pol. He’d only know her for only a quarter of that time, but he’d learned to trust her with his ship, his crew, his very life. Now he was going to be forced to give evidence at their courts-martial. Sometimes life really sucked. Jon was saved from any further soul-searching by a call from Hoshi. Reed’s shuttle had landed and he was on his way to the ready room. Less than two minutes later the door chimes rang and Malcolm entered. “Any luck?” Archer looked into Reed’s eyes and immediately knew the answer. Malcolm’s words only served as confirmation. “No, sir. I’m sorry.” Archer motioned to the chair by the door. Uncharacteristically, Malcolm pulled the chair over without any further prodding and sat down. Leaning forward, Jon rested his forearms on the desk. “Let’s hear it.” “I tried everything to get him to talk,” Reed said wearily. “He just glared at me and muttered, ‘I don’t care what you think. I’m not some damn spy.’ That was it. I begged. I pleaded. I yelled. Nothing.” Malcolm dropped his head and ran one finger absently over the edge of the desk. “I thought I could make him listen to reason. I was wrong. He tuned me out as soon as I walked into the brig.” “It’s not your fault, Malcolm. You did your best.” “My best…right.” In frustration, Reed suddenly brought his fist down hard on the desk. “Doesn’t he realize how much trouble he’s in? He could spend the rest of his life in prison! Everything he’s worked for will be destroyed!” Tensing, Archer sat motionless. It was never pleasant to hear one’s worst fears spoken aloud. It gave them an indisputable sense of legitimacy. If he and Malcolm could see that the shit was about to hit the fan, why couldn’t Trip? Quickly regaining his composure, Malcolm murmured, “I apologize for my outburst, sir. This has been a very frustrating day.” “Don’t apologize. Your observations are right on the mark. Trip’s been in trouble before, but nothing like this.” “Maybe he’s trying to cover for T’Pol. That would be just like him: the perfect southern gentleman right to the bitter end.” “You think T’Pol’s guilty?” Archer asked testily. “No, but something Trip saw or heard might lead him to believe that she’s been spying for the Vulcans. I think he’d do anything to protect her, including foolishly taking the blame himself. She means a great deal to him.” “Yeah, I know.” Malcolm was right. That sounded exactly like something Trip would do. Archer glanced at the chronometer on his desk. There was someone he wanted to speak to and time was running short. He hit the comm button. “Archer to Lieutenant Mayweather.” After the hoopla surrounding their return from the Expanse, Archer had expected to see well-deserved promotions for members of his crew. Starfleet, however, saw things differently. The official word was that they couldn’t afford to give Enterprise personnel preferential treatment. They would just have to be patient. Over a year later Starfleet was just now getting around to giving Archer’s people something more tangible than a pat on the back for their sacrifices in the fight against the Xindi. Last week, promotions had come down for Mayweather, Sato, Kelly and five other ensigns. Gardner had also assured Archer that the promotion list next month would include the names of Reed, Hess, Rostov, and at least twenty others. “Mayweather here, sir.” “Meet me in the launch bay. I want you to ferry me down to the embassy.” “Aye, sir.” As soon as Jon started to rise, Malcolm scrambled to his feet. “Admiral Gardner wants me to see Trip this afternoon,” Archer stated. Reed seemed to brighten a little. “Bringing in the first team, are they?” “I don’t know that I’d go quite that far.” Jon slowly walked around the end of his desk. “It’s 10:45 now. I’m going to try to find Soval. I think we’re overdue for a chat. While I’m gone, I want you and Hoshi to go over the evidence we’ve gathered one more time.” “We’ve been over and over that data, sir,” Malcolm groaned. “Everything points to Trip’s guilt.” “Then go over it again,” Archer snapped. “I don’t think Trip’s guilty; neither do you. We must be missing something. Find it.” Malcolm lifted his chin. “Aye, sir.” Archer headed for the door. He briefly entertained the idea of asking Reed to include Enterprise’s new first officer, Lt. Commander Kevin Byum, but he decided against it. Something told him that this was one investigation that should be kept strictly in the family. Jon raised his hand to open the door, but Malcolm’s voice stopped him. “Before you go, sir, if I could have one more minute of your time?” Archer turned to face him and nodded. “I don’t make this suggestion lightly, but…I’d like to contact Harris. Perhaps he might know something that would help Trip.” Lips compressed into a thin line, Jon folded his arms over his chest as he considered Reed’s suggestion. The idea had some merit, but he’d just as soon avoid any further dealings with Harris. The man couldn’t be trusted. But then again, if he knew something that could help Trip and T’Pol, if he could point Reed toward the real culprits, maybe it would be worth it. “If Harris has information, he’ll probably want something in return. Are you prepared to deal with that, Lieutenant?” “Are you, sir?” Reed looked unflinchingly at the captain. “Make the call.” Archer slapped the button and the door slid open. “We’ll deal with any quid-pro-quo issues when and if they arise.” As he strode across the bridge, Jon said, “Hoshi, tell Phlox I’m sorry, but Admiral Gardner wants me at the embassy. My visit to sickbay will have to wait until I get back.” - - - - - - - - - - - - “If you would just slow down, sir, I could brief you on…” “I don’t need a briefing,” Archer growled. What had he been thinking when he asked Admiral Gardner’s adjutant to help him locate Soval? He must have been out of his mind. The woman was a menace. “I appreciate your help, but I’m sure you have other duties to attend to. Now that I’ve seen the ambassador, I can find my way back to our embassy.” “It’s no trouble, sir,” Lieutenant Greta Troeger replied primly. “It wouldn’t do for you to get lost.” Archer gritted his teeth. Subtle hints were lost on this woman. He began to lengthen his strides. If he couldn’t discourage her from following him, maybe he could outdistance her. She was almost as bad as one of Phlox’s Aldebaran mud leeches. Five feet five inches tall with wavy brown hair, laser-sharp brown eyes, and a mouth that was just a little too wide for her oval face, the lieutenant was a force to be reckoned with. Her life apparently revolved around Starfleet and little else. She willingly worked long hours, approaching each task with an accountant’s attention to detail and an organizational ability that put lesser mortals to shame. Unfortunately, since she expected the same dedication and perfection from everyone else, she spent most of her life annoyed, disgusted or downright outraged. Jon snuck a peek out of the corner of his eye. It was really too bad, too. She had a nice shape for a thirty-something woman, and her low, throaty voice would be sexy as hell if it was wrapped in a less intimidating package. The two officers were hurrying along one of the wide walkways which cut through the Vulcan capital city. Archer had to admit that these flora-lined paths were an improvement over similar urban settings on Earth. Here, ground level was designated for pedestrian traffic only. Vehicles either traveled below the surface or used cantilevered landing platforms, which jutted from buildings high overhead. “Admiral Gardner was very specific, Captain.” Not to be denied, she quickened her pace, taking two steps for every one of Archer’s. “He wants to be sure you fully understand Starfleet’s position vis-a-vis Commander Tucker.” “Trust me, I understand Starfleet’s position,” Archer snapped. “I got it straight from the admiral a couple of hours ago. I don’t need to hear it again from you.” “But it’s absolutely vital that you understand…” That did it. Coming to an abrupt halt, Archer planted his hands on his hips and glared at Troeger. “Look, I have some thinking to do, Lieutenant. What I need right now is privacy, not a lecture from you. I’ll be at the embassy at 14:00 as per the admiral’s request. You’re dismissed.” “But…” “Disappear. That’s an order.” Stiffening, Lieutenant Troeger allowed her lower lip to slide forward just enough to let Archer know that she was thoroughly pissed. It didn’t take much imagination to see that a struggle of titanic proportions was going on in that regimented brain of hers. Should she stand her ground, thereby disobeying a direct order, or should she leave without completing her assigned task? Both options were unacceptable. Jon didn’t have time for this nonsense. “Good-bye, Lieutenant,” he said with an air of finality. Then he started down a walkway that led away from the embassy and, hopefully, away from her. “Admiral Gardner will not be pleased!” she shouted at his retreating form. “I don’t care!” Refusing to look back to see if he was being followed, Jon proceeded full steam ahead. After several minutes, when he failed to hear the pitter-patter of little feet, he finally decided to slacken his pace. The heat was really oppressive. He raised a hand to shield his eyes as he turned his face skyward. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to a red sky. It just made this sweltering planet seem even hotter. He could sure use a cold beer right about now. Something to cool him off and help numb the pain. He saw a bench ahead near a small decorative garden of rocks and succulent plants and decided to sit down. The plants had a surprising sweet aroma similar to the hyacinths that bloomed in his mother’s garden each spring. After wiping one sleeve over his brow, he leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. Now that he’d managed to ditch Lieutenant Troeger, he could take a few minutes to try to get himself under control before he had to return to the embassy. Thanks to Troeger’s birddog instincts, she’d managed to locate Soval in record time. Unfortunately, the subsequent meeting had not gone well. True to form, the Vulcans had washed their hands of Trip. There would be no statement from the High Council stating categorically that the Vulcan government had not suborned the commander and to their knowledge, no acts of espionage had been committed. Soval was sorry, but there was nothing he could do. At least Soval had eased his mind slightly in regard to T’Pol. The ambassador had refused to say where she was, but he made it clear that she was safe…and would remain so. Even though she was still viewed as a renegade by many of her people, the Vulcans would not give her up. The High Council had no intention of allowing Starfleet to sit in judgment of a Vulcan citizen. Trip, on the other hand, had no one to help him. Not his family. Not Starfleet. Not the government of United Earth. Not even his new best friends, the Vulcans. No one gave a damn about him but Jonathan Archer and a few loyal friends back on Enterprise. Jon looked up when two Vulcan males walked by, but when they made a point of ignoring him, he returned the favor. He had to think. He had to find some way to help Trip. Staring off into the distance, he mentally began to work through the evidence Malcolm and Hoshi had uncovered. “Captain Archer?” a feminine voice called softly from behind him. Jon stifled a long-suffering sigh and shook his head. Even on Vulcan – a planet full of total strangers – he couldn’t get any peace. At least he was sure of one thing: it wasn’t Lieutenant Troeger. The voice was too high pitched. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw a pretty young woman in the uniform of Starfleet Intelligence. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. “You may not remember me,” she said as she walked around the bench to face him. “My name is Gannet Brooks.” “Of course.” Archer got to his feet. “Forgive me, I should have recognized you. In my own defense, you do look different in uniform.” “It’s a nice change of pace. Undercover work is exciting, but it gets old very quickly.” “You’re stationed here on Vulcan?” “Yes, sir. I’m one of three intelligence officers currently attached to our embassy.” She squared her shoulders and clasped her hands behind her back. “I’ve spent the last month building a dossier on Commander Tucker.” That got Archer’s attention. “You helped put Trip in jail?” he snapped. “I did my job: collect and analyze intelligence information.” “I see.” Archer lifted his chin dismissively and looked off to the right. “I’m afraid I have an appointment at the embassy at 14:00. It was nice to see you again, but now you must…” “Travis told me where I might find you,” she interjected before he could make his escape. “I only want a few minutes of your time.” “If you’re here to tell me Trip’s guilty, you can forget it.” “During my time on Enterprise, I really didn’t have a chance to get to know the commander, but I know Travis thinks a great deal of him. I’ve come across something which might be important and…well…I’d like to help if I can.” Archer studied her closely. This all seemed too good to be true. “Do your superiors know you’re doing this?” “Your security clearance covers anything I might divulge.” “You didn’t answer my question.” “Do you want to hear what I have to say or don’t you?” What choice did he have? He was desperate for anything that might help Trip, and he had a sinking feeling that Lieutenant (JG) Brooks was well aware of that fact. Why was she doing this? Odds were that it wasn’t out of the sheer goodness of her heart. After all, he really didn’t know her. Could she be trusted? Was her information reliable? No, there were just too many unanswered questions. “I’m sorry, but I really do have to get back to the embassy,” he finally said. “Commander Tucker’s interrogation. Yes, I know. I promise to keep things brief.” Her face was suddenly transformed by a dazzling smile. “You won’t regret it.” After a brief struggle with his conscience, Archer reluctantly motioned toward a nearby walkway. “After you.” A Vulcan woman, holding two children by the hand, came toward them. The smallest child, a pretty little girl with dark brown hair, looked at them inquisitively. Her mother and older brother kept their eyes focused straight ahead as though the two visitors to their planet didn’t exist. Gannet, in typical Human fashion, waved to the little girl. The child responded by dipping her head and bashfully moving closer to her mother. As soon as the family had moved out of earshot, Gannet said, “After Paxton tried to wipe out Starfleet Headquarters with the verteron array, our agents began to actively infiltrate Terra Prime. We’ve had some casualties, but we’ve also had our share of successes. A week ago, one of our agents shared a bottle of gin with a former member of your crew.” “Who?” “Commander Kelby.” Archer shook his head. “If you think Kelby’s part of Terra Prime, you’re barking up the wrong tree. Ensign Masaro was the agent. He confessed that much to me personally, right before he put a phase pistol to his head.” “Masaro stole the commanders’ DNA and sabotaged your shuttlepod. That doesn’t mean he was the only crewman who was interested in the garbage Paxton was selling.” “Starfleet Security did background checks on everyone in my crew. Kelby was cleared of any involvement.” “Times change, people change. Our agent spent three hours listening to Kelby’s drunken ramblings. When we did a follow-up, everything Kelby had said checked out. Now do you want to hear the rest of this or am I just wasting my time?” “Get on with it,” Archer grumbled. He knew he was making this harder for Gannet that it needed to be, but he was tired of being bombarded by his subordinates’ sordid little secrets. Wasn’t anybody who they appeared to be? “Evidently, Kelby’s experience with the Orion women really messed him up. That’s why he requested a transfer back to Earth. He’d had his fill of aliens, especially alien females. He became active in Terra Prime as soon as he reached Starfleet’s research and development complex at Bozeman, Montana.” Archer took a few minutes to absorb this information. Unfortunately, it made sense. “I wondered at the time why he was willing to settle for a routine desk job instead of a posting to another ship. He told me he wanted to get married, but the girl refused to accept his ring until he promised to settle down.” Archer smiled ruefully. “It seemed reasonable to me. I’ve been in that same position myself.” “There was a girl and he did get married. It lasted a month and a half. Apparently he had some intimacy issues. The bottle’s been his best friend ever since.” “Kelby certainly wasn’t in Trip’s league, but he was a good, solid engineer. He could have been a real asset on another ship.” “Before Kelby ever left Enterprise, he’d decided that Commander Tucker was out to sabotage his career. There’d been a fight…” “But only because Kelby was under the influence of one of the alien women. Trip understood that. Besides, he’s not the kind of man to hold a grudge.” “Be that as it may, all Kelby could see was a “little tin god” who came back and stole his job because he wasn’t good enough.” Reaching up, Gannet brushed a lock of hair back into place. “It also didn’t help when the ship’s rumor mill started to comment on the amount of time Tucker was, once again, spending with T’Pol.” Things suddenly began to fall into place for Archer. Even when Trip came back from Columbia his mind was often on other things. If Kelby had the inclination, he would have had more than enough time to make a few alterations. Without further delay, he pulled out his communicator. “Archer to Enterprise.” “Sato here, sir.” “I want to speak to Lieutenant Reed. Be sure the channel’s secure.” “Aye, sir.” After a few moments, Reed came on the line. “Reed here, sir. Is there a problem?” “Malcolm, we may have just been handed our first break. I want you to work with Lieutenant Hess. Put together a team, people you trust without reservation, and go over the ship with a fine tooth comb.” “Are we looking for anything in particular?” “I want to know if someone could have devised a way to manipulate or fabricate the evidence against Trip.” “We’ve checked and rechecked the systems. There are no irregularities.” “Dig deeper. Commander Kelby may have left us with a few parting gifts.” “Kelby?” “He’s a member of Terra Prime.” “Bloody hell. I knew there was something about him I didn’t like. We’ll get on it right away, sir.” “Let me know if you find anything. Archer out.” Jon was just putting away his communicator when Gannet came to a halt. “I won’t take up any more of your time, Captain. We both have other matters which require our attention.” “Thanks for the information.” He stuck out his hand and she shook it. “I’m sorry I had to waylay you, but it would have taken weeks for this little tidbit to be released through official channels, and even then it would only have been on a need-to-know basis. We have to protect our agent. If word leaked out, it wouldn’t take long for Kelby to figure out who informed on him.” “I understand. I only hope that it will help us prove that the evidence against Trip was planted.” “Good luck, Captain.” Upping the wattage on her smile, she winked at Archer. “Tell Travis I’ll be seeing him.” As Archer watched her walk away, he decided that Travis was a very lucky man. - - - - - - - - - - - - - With time growing short, Jon quickly covered the short distance to the embassy. Upon entering the main lobby, he checked the large chronometer on the wall: 13:52. He’d have to hurry. The detention area was tucked away in a corner of the top floor. Admiral Gardner was probably waiting there for him. He started for the lift, but quickly changed course when a problem at the reception desk caught his attention. “You’re not listening to me,” a middle-aged man snapped, his voice rising in frustration. He was dressed casually in a navy blue shirt and khaki pants, but it was obvious from the cut of the garments that he was a man of wealth and position. “I’ll say it again…slowly.” He leaned forward and glared, a trick he’d no doubt used frequently in the past when underlings failed to deliver as promised. This time, however, he appeared to have met his match. The young ensign seated behind the circular black desk was obviously not impressed. Towheaded, with the body of a weight-lifter and the face of a cherub, he wore the expression of someone who had heard it all before. Archer found that rather disquieting, considering that the young man looked to be no older than twenty-five. “I have an appointment with Commander Charles Tucker III,” the man pressed. “I’ve tried calling his room. No one answers. Find him and tell him I’m down here waiting for him.” “I’m sorry, sir,” the ensign replied in a calm, composed voice, “but if you’ve tried to contact the commander and he doesn’t answer, perhaps he’s indisposed.” “Indisposed?” The man made no effort to hide his disgust. “You make him sound like some little, old, grey-haired maiden lady.” “It would probably be best if you rescheduled your appointment.” “There’s nothing I’d like better, but I can’t reschedule my appointment with Tucker if I can’t find him. I’m a guest at this embassy and a citizen of Earth. What do I have to do to get a little help around here?” Archer’s eyes darted around the lobby. Apparently he wasn’t the only person interested in this conversation. Several other people had stopped to listen, including one woman who’d interviewed Jon not too long ago for one of Earth’s news agencies. The shrewd look on her face clearly indicated that she was weighing the news value of what she was hearing. That wasn’t good. Starfleet hadn’t made public the fact that Trip was under arrest; it would be best not to call attention to his absence. Since the man apparently seemed unwilling to let the matter rest, Archer decided he’d better intervene. Walking over to the desk, he said quietly, “Excuse me. Perhaps I can be of assistance. My name’s Jonathan Archer.” The man stared at Jon. “Captain Jonathan Archer?” Archer sighed inwardly. This was when the glad-handing and back-slapping usually began. He didn’t think he’d ever feel comfortable with the fuss most people tended to make over him. “Yes.” “This is quite an honor.” The man stuck out his hand and Archer shook it. “My name’s Martin Granville – Marty to my friends. I’m the CEO of the United Earth Cargo Corporation. Maybe you’ve heard of it.” Archer nodded. “I have an appointment with Trip Tucker, but he’s late.” Craning his neck, Granville took one more look around the lobby. “I know he’s staying here at the embassy, but I can’t seem to get any help from this gentleman.” He motioned with his head in the direction of the ensign on duty. Glancing at the young man’s nametag, Archer made a mental note to run a check on him. Ensign Roudebush might make an interesting addition to his crew. Archer motioned to one of the waiting rooms, which opened off the lobby and Granville followed him. Once they reached the far side of the room, away from prying eyes and ears, Archer said, “My guess is that Trip’s been called into some last minute meeting.” That was stretching things a bit, but it wasn’t far from the truth. “You’re a busy man. I’m sure you know how it is.” Granville’s eyes narrowed. “If that was the case, I think Commander Tucker would have contacted me. In our previous meetings, he’s always conducted himself in a very professional manner.” “I’ll be seeing Trip later today. I’ll let him know that he missed your appointment.” Granville didn’t look particularly pleased, but he had little choice but to acquiesce. “I guess that will have to do.” “Good.” Archer really didn’t have time for further conversation, but his curiosity got the better of him. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you meeting with Trip?” “I don’t mind at all.” Granville’s face brightened. “I’m trying to persuade him to come to work for me.” Archer blinked. “What?” “I want him to take over UECC’s research and development department.” “Trip’s thinking about leaving Starfleet?” Jon felt like he’d just been sucker punched. “I certainly hope so. He’s a tremendously hot property right now. Plenty of people have been beating down his door, but I think we’ve got the inside track. We’re offering a first-class package: brand new state-of-the-art facility, total creative control, unlimited budget, generous compensation, incentives. As a matter of fact, I feel so strongly about bringing him on board that I’m determined to stay on Vulcan until I’ve got his name on a contract. Our projections show that with Trip running research and development for us, we’ll be able to triple our business in ten years.” A hot property? Trip? When did all this happen? He’d always thought Trip was happy in Starfleet. Obviously that wasn’t the case. Staggered by the revelations of the past couple of days, he wondered how many other things his “friend” had been keeping from him. “I know Trip used to work for you on Enterprise,” Granville continued, apparently unaware of Archer’s discomfort. “I hope you’ll put in a good word for us. Trip’s told me he’s impressed with our company, with what we have to offer. All we have to do now is close the deal.” “You seem to be pretty sure of Trip.” “I’ve spent enough time with him to know that he’s not happy in Starfleet right now.” “He told you that?” “Not in so many words, but it’s easy to read between the lines. He’s bored and looking for a challenge. We can give that to him and more. We’ve even found a place for Commander T’Pol, if she wants to tag along.” Archer knew that Trip and T’Pol had tried to be reassigned after they were denied access to the High Council. He probably should have offered to help them, but he’d had too many other things on his mind. Besides, he’d figured that this interest in Vulcan was just a phase Trip was going through. Perhaps he’d misjudged the situation. “I tell you what,” Granville said expansively. “I feel so good about this situation that I want to invite you to stop by our main plant in Indianapolis the next time you’re on Earth. Trip can show you around.” His smile was a bit too smug for Archer’s liking. “You see, I believe in the power of positive thinking.” Jon had had just about enough. It was going to take a whole lot more than positive thinking to get Trip’s ass out of jail. Besides, he was willing to bet that as soon as Granville found out that his hot property was public enemy number one, he’d be on the next ship back to Earth. It was all Archer could do to keep from laying the whole sordid mess out for this two-bit big shot. That would wipe that self-satisfied grin off of Granville’s face. “As much as I’ve…enjoyed our conversation, Mr. Granville…” “Marty.” “Marty,” Archer responded tightly. “I’m afraid I have another appointment. I’ll tell Trip that I saw you.” “I would appreciate that.” Granville offered his hand again and reluctantly Archer shook it. “It’s been a real honor meeting you, Captain. If you ever decide to leave Starfleet, please look me up. There’s always a place at UECC for exceptional men.” “If you’ll excuse me...” Archer started to pull his hand away, but Granville held on. “You know I’d heard from a number of people that you and Tucker used to be close. Given his engineering expertise, I’m surprised you let him get away.” Behind the smile, Granville had the calculating look of a man who was carefully sizing up his opponent. After a rather tense moment, he released Archer’s hand. “Fortunately, it looks as though your loss will be my gain. Good-bye, Captain.” Archer stood motionless as Granville walked away. He wasn’t quite sure what had just happened. He felt vaguely as though he’d just been threatened, but Granville had been nothing but polite. Maybe it was because he didn’t think his friendship with Trip was any of Granville’s business. Or maybe it was because he felt like he’d just been judged and found wanting. The normal hustle and bustle of the lobby suddenly intruded on his thoughts and he roused himself. He was late. Gardner wasn’t going to be pleased. He crossed the waiting room and entered the lobby. He caught Ensign Roudebush’s eye and the two men exchanged a quick nod of recognition. As he crossed to the lift, Jon was careful to avoid making eye contact with the woman from the news agency, who’d already managed to grab hold of Martin Granville. As soon as she saw Archer, though, she hesitated. Who was the bigger story? Fortunately, she opted to stick with the man she’d already cornered. When the lift doors opened on the top floor of the embassy, Gardner was waiting for him. “I was just coming to look for you.” “Sorry. I ran into Martin Granville downstairs.” “Granville?” Gardner started down the corridor and Jon fell into step beside him. “What did he want?” “Trip evidently.” When Gardner looked askance, Jon clarified, “He wants Trip to come to work for him.” “That’s interesting. I’d heard that people were sniffing around Tucker, but this is the first confirmation I’ve had that they’re trying to steal him away from Starfleet.” “Do you know Granville?” “We’ve never met, but I know of him. Don’t take him lightly. He’s a very influential man, who has a reputation for getting what he wants. His company already controls 60% of Earth’s cargo ships, and this past year they’ve opened offices on half a dozen other worlds. Some people think the company’s trying to grow too fast, but in the past Granville’s always found a way to make things work.” “And now he wants Trip,” Archer added glumly. “If Tucker doesn’t begin to cooperate, it won’t make any difference who wants him. He’s going to be spending the rest of his days in jail.” Gardner pointed to a doorway. “He’s going to be brought in here. We’re in the next room.” As they drew close, a security officer stood to attention and opened the door for them. The room, with its transparent floor-to-ceiling walls on three sides, was little more than a giant glass box. The two parallel walls gave access to interrogation rooms, while the wall at the far end of the room provided a view into one of the holding cells, which at the moment was unoccupied. A wide, padded bench and a small desk with a built in computer terminal were the only furnishings in the room. On the monitor were pictures of Trip, full face and profile, a copy of his service record, and a list of the charges being brought against him. Archer squeezed his eyes shut. This had to be nothing but a terrible nightmare. Any minute now Porthos would lick his face and he’d wake up. Trip and T’Pol would be back on Enterprise, and the only charges he’d have to deal with would be Trip’s overly enthusiastic fouls on the basketball court. Unfortunately the admiral quickly brought him back to reality. “We’ve decided to stop pulling our punches.” Gardner eased down on the bench, apparently feeling every one of his fifty plus years. “We’re going to lay it all out for Tucker today. JAG’s sent Commander Lucia Sabatini to prosecute. She’s got a reputation for going straight for the throat, but in this instance, I’m afraid that’s just what we need. Maybe she can get him to cooperate.” “Lucy and I are old friends.” Years ago during the NX Test Program, Archer had gotten to know Sabatini over drinks at the 602 Club. He’d always had trouble reconciling her ball-busting professional personna with the warm, funny lady, who loved romantic poetry, antique music boxes, Chardonnay, and her family, which had grown over the years to include a doting husband and four beautiful daughters. “Since you know her, maybe the two of you can work together to… Wait a minute.” Gardner pointed toward the interrogation room. “Here he comes.” Archer thought he was prepared, but the sight of Trip, shackled hand and foot, being led into the room by two sober-faced security guards left him speechless. What had seemed right and proper on Arik Soong looked obscene on his friend. A guard motioned toward one of four chairs pulled up to a brushed metal table and Trip, clad in a grey prison jumpsuit, sat down. Judging by the dark circles under his eyes, he wasn’t sleeping, but he was clean-shaven, his hair was neatly combed, and there was nothing in the set of his shoulders that suggested defeat. Plopping his shackled hands on the table, he stared straight ahead. Soon after, Lucy entered the room, two padds in hand, and directed the security guards to take up positions on either side of the door. Her curly brown hair was shorter than Jon remembered and there were a few more laugh lines around her eyes, but on the whole she hadn’t changed much over the years. She’d always had the sturdy build of an athlete – volleyball was her sport – but even after four children, her figure could still turn heads. She took a moment to review the information on the padds before saying, “Please state your name for the record.” “Commander Charles Anthony Tucker III.” “My name is Commander Sabatini. I’m going to be prosecuting your case.” She looked up and placed both padds on the table. “I don’t see your attorney. You were instructed to have him here today.” “I don’t need an attorney,” Trip muttered, without making eye contact. “You refuse representation?” Tucker nodded. “Aloud, Commander.” “Yes.” “That is most unwise, but if that’s your decision, we’ll proceed.” She pulled out the chair across from Trip and sat down. “You’ve been questioned before. Do you understand the charges against you?” “I understand them all right, but like I keep tellin’ you people, I’m not a spy. Why won’t anybody believe me?” “Unfortunately, Commander, we have evidence to the contrary.” “You’ve got nothing.” Sighing, Sabatini picked up one of the padds and scrolled through it. “That is not altogether true. As a matter of fact, I feel confident that we have enough to convict you right now.” Trip grew pale, but he kept his head up and his expression fixed. “I thought you might want to refer to this as we go through the charges. We’ve added a few more since the last time you were questioned.” She shoved the padd across the table. “Please feel free to bring to my attention any facts which you believe to be in error.” “Your so-called evidence is nothing but errors.” Trip’s voice had a defiant ring, but instead of picking up the padd, he pulled his hands back as if he expected it to grow fangs and strike at him. “I hardly think so,” Sabatini sniffed superciliously. “Commander Tucker, before we go through the charges, I want to give you a chance to tell your side of the story. If you can explain your actions, it will save everybody a great deal of time.” “I’ve got nothing to say.” “Very well. Let’s get on with it.” Planting her forearms firmly on the table, she leaned forward. “You’ve trained your engineering staff well. It took them practically no time at all to find the subtle modifications you made to the communications system.” “I never made any modifications.” “Of course you did. How else were you able to send all those clandestine transmissions to your Vulcan friends? As a matter of fact, we have several engineers who are eagerly awaiting their chance to testify at your court-martial. Evidently they were quite impressed with your ingenuity. But then you’re reputed to be the best of the best, aren’t you, Commander? “Each time you carefully deleted the information you passed along to the Vulcans, but fortunately for us, Lieutenant Sato is also very good at her job. She’s been able to recover just enough so that we have a pretty good idea of the damage you’ve done. So far we’ve discovered that you passed along classified information on Starfleet ship deployments, construction timetables for our four new starships, and preliminary designs for our new space station, Deep Space One. “Oh, and don’t worry about those data disks you stashed in the embassy’s mechanical room. We found those, too.” Trip tilted his head as though he was trying to figure out what she was talking about. “Profiles on every senior officer in Starfleet, and your fingerprints are all over them. You really should have been a little more circumspect; some of those profiles aren’t very flattering. When did you intend to pass those along to your Vulcan friends?” Pressing his lips together, Trip just shook his head. “You would have needed help to lay your hands on that kind of top-secret information. Why don’t you do yourself a big favor and give me the names of your accomplices? If you help us, I can see that things go easier for you. Maybe even reduce your time in prison.” “Since I’m not a spy, I don’t need accomplices,” Trip growled. “Suit yourself. If you want to take the fall alone, so be it.” “Why would I do it? Answer me that.” Trip drew himself up, anger flashing in his eyes. “I’ve fought and bled for Earth. Why would I betray my own people?” Sabatini sat back in her chair and nonchalantly brushed a speck of dust from the table. “It’s the oldest story in the book, Commander. Lust for a woman.” Tucker stiffened instantly, clenching both fists. One of the guards warily took a step forward in case he might be called upon to restrain the prisoner, but Trip remained motionless. “Looking back, the Vulcans’ plan is clear enough,” Sabatini stated, clearly pleased by his response. “T’Pol was put on Enterprise to get to know the senior officers, identify the weak link, and then entice him into betraying Earth. When she realized that she couldn’t seduce Captain Archer, she went looking for someone else…and found you. “Your affair with T’Pol is well-documented. We have the transcripts from Paxton’s trial. You stated under oath that the two of you were sleeping together. We also have affidavits from a number of your shipmates, describing your rather tortured relationship with her. And then there are your personal logs, Commander. They tell the story of a man who is hopelessly smitten, a man who is incapable of thinking straight when it comes to that woman.” Commander Sabatini got to her feet and walked slowly around the table until she was standing directly behind Trip. “After you returned from the Expanse, you chose not to visit your parents. That was hardly the act of a dutiful son. They probably would have appreciated some consolation from you after the untimely death of their daughter, but you couldn’t be bothered. You headed straight for Vulcan. Is that when they recruited you to spy for them?” Angry and frustrated, Archer took a couple of steps forward and pressed one fist against the glass. If he could only punch through this damn wall, he could grab Trip and shake some sense into that stubborn head of his. Why was he just sitting there? Why didn’t he try to defend himself? What in the hell was he waiting for? “You need to step back from the glass, Jon,” Gardner said quietly. “The one-way properties are supposed to be foolproof, but we don’t want to take any chances.” A portion of Archer’s brain processed the admiral’s request and he dropped his hand, but his feet remained rooted to the spot. His attention was focused solely on the prisoner in the next room. The Trip Tucker he knew was open, honest, and loyal to a fault. He’d never betray Earth. He’d never give up without a fight, either. He’d be proclaiming his innocence at the top of his lungs. This Trip Tucker was a total stranger. Could he really have changed so much? Damn it, what was he hiding? “While Captain Archer was in the Forge,” Commander Sabatini continued, “you spent a lot of time closeted in the ready room with Soval. It’s clear from the statements of Lieutenant Reed and several others that Soval was already manipulating you, even to the point of forcing you to disobey a direct order from Starfleet Command.” “I did what I had to do to stop a war,” Trip said in a voice barely above a whisper. “It was my decision, not Soval’s.” “And later, was it your idea to seek medical help from the Vulcans when you were suffering from depression or did T’Pol suggest it?” Trip clenched his jaw and looked away. “Oh yes, we know all about that, too. Your shipmates were more than happy to fill us in on your abnormal behavior. It didn’t take long for the doctors at Starfleet Medical to make a diagnosis of clinical depression. You were smart to try to keep it a secret. With that on your record, you can just about kiss your career good-bye. But it was a stroke of luck for the Vulcans. Once they got you to the Sanctuary, they were finally able to finish the brain washing that T’Pol had started. “ From that point on, you were their fair-haired boy, weren’t you, Commander? Admiral Kiran, who’s made it clear that he has no love for Humans, selected you above every other officer in Starfleet to serve as an observer on the Tar’hana. What a surprise. “Then following the attack on the Ti’Mur, you snuck away in the middle of the night with T’Pol and two other Vulcans. The next day you showed up with two data disks that purportedly contained the Romulans’ timetable for conquering Vulcan and Earth. You couldn’t explain how they came into the Vulcans’ possession, but you were willing to swear that they were genuine. How very convenient for the Vulcans.” She snapped her fingers. “Just like that, you produce proof that the Romulans are our enemies, too. Why should the Vulcans fight their own battles when they can get Humans to do it for them?” She finished her circuit of the table and stood facing him once again. “The Vulcans thought they were very clever when they asked Starfleet to have you and Commander T’Pol transferred from Enterprise to our embassy. Not only did it give you access to up-to-the-minute information on our relations with the Coalition and the Andorians, but it also allowed you to come and go as you pleased. Surveillance records show that you slipped away several times each week with T’Pol and your Vulcan bodyguard. You always managed to shake the Starfleet Security officers who were tailing you…except for one night when you got careless. Imagine their surprise when you led them straight to the home of Minister Vaaris, the man who oversees the Vulcan Ministry of Security. I bet he took all the information you spoon fed him and never once said thank you. And you can’t understand why we think you’ve turned on your own people.” Sabatini brought her hand down hard on the table. “I’m done playing games with you, Commander. I want to know the names of your accomplices. I want to know what other classified information you’ve passed to the Vulcans. I want to know the whereabouts of Commander T’Pol, and I want your help to bring her into custody.” When Trip remained silent, Sabatini lowered her voice and said, “T’Pol may be your lover, but believe me, she’s not your friend. The Vulcans have thrown you to the wolves. No one in their government will even claim responsibility for getting the two of you reassigned. They’re barely willing to acknowledge that you exist. You can’t expect any help from them. Don’t let them get away with using you like this.” Tucker got a far-away look in his eyes. Maybe he was finally beginning to realize just how alone he was. “Just start from the beginning, Commander, and tell me how you got involved in this mess.” “I keep tellin’ ya, I’m not a spy,” Trip replied quietly but firmly. “I’ve got nothing to say.” “If you don’t cooperate with me,” Sabatini said ominously, “I’m going to make your life a living hell. So far we’ve been able to keep this out of the media, but if you don’t start talking right now, you’re going to be the lead story on news broadcasts from pole to pole tomorrow morning. Everyone on Earth will finally see you for the sneaky, lying bastard you really are.” “I haven’t done anything wrong.” “Like hell you haven’t! You sold out Earth just so could get some Vulcan bitch in the sack!” Archer heard Gardner call out, “Jon, no!” but he was already on his way out the door. He was so mad he could barely see straight. He was mad at Lucy Sabatini for browbeating his friend. He was mad at Trip for being so damn stubborn. He was mad at the Vulcans for dragging Trip into this sordid mess in the first place. But most of all, he was mad at himself for caring so much about Trip and Enterprise and Starfleet and Earth and the Coalition and the whole damn universe, for that matter. Everybody seemed to want a little piece of him, and there just wasn’t enough of him to go around. The two guards grabbed him as soon as he set foot in the interrogation room. Angrily he tried to break their hold on him, but they only gripped his arms tighter. The scowl on Sabatini’s face made her displeasure plain enough and that was fine by him. Why should he be the only one who was pissed? After a brief staring match, Lucy finally blinked first and motioned for the guards to release him. “As usual, your timing stinks, Jon,” she said coldly. “You better have a damn good reason for interrupting my interrogation.” Archer took a couple of steps forward and glared at Tucker. “I want to talk to Trip. Alone.” Planting her hands on her hips, Sabatini said, “This isn’t a good time. You can talk to him later, after we’re finished.” When Jon saw Trip self-consciously pull his shackled hands into his lap, he was finally able to put his anger aside long enough to really look at his friend. The stricken look on Trip’s face brought him up short. What was he doing? There were enough people ganging up on Trip already. What he needed now was a friend. The least Jon could do was offer his support and a sympathetic ear. Taking the edge off his voice, he stated, “I want to talk to him now.” Obviously annoyed, Sabatini took a deep breath, trying to keep her temper in check. Instead of arguing with him, though, she surprised Archer by pulling out one of the chairs and motioning for him to sit down. “No thanks. I said alone. We don’t need an audience.” “You forget, Captain, you’re not on Enterprise. Here you play by my rules.” She grabbed the chair and plunked it down next to him. “Sit or leave. Your choice.” Archer was tempted to leave, but he couldn’t bring himself to abandon Trip. Frowning, he sat down. “Actually this might work out rather well.” Sabatini started to make another pass around the table. “Maybe you can be of some assistance. Tell me, Captain, a month ago when Commanders Tucker and T’Pol left the meeting with the Vulcans so abruptly, you eventually went in search of them. Is that correct?” “Yes.” “Did you find them?” Jon eyed her warily. “Yes.” “At the Vulcan Sanctuary on Mount Seleya?” “Yes.” “What was Commander Tucker’s condition when you found him?” Jon looked over at Trip and saw the beseeching look on his face. Lying wasn’t an option – not even for Trip – but maybe just this once he could shade the truth a little. “He’d had a bad day. Physically, he was fine, but he was…out of sorts.” Commander Sabatini walked over to the table and picked up the padd she’d kept for herself and scrolled through the data until she found what she was looking for. “We have a sworn statement from Ensign Luann Acre. In case you don’t recognize the name, she was the shuttle pilot who took you and Admirals Gardner and Uhlani to the meeting with the Vulcans, following the attack on the Ti’Mur. She remained with the shuttle, so she was perfectly placed to overhear anything that was said on the landing platform. She said you appeared to be very surprised and pleased to see the commander. To her best recollection – and her memory, by the way, is excellent – you called out, ‘I didn’t expect to see you here. I was worried. Don’t scare me like that again.’ Does that tally with what you recall of the event?” Archer shifted uncomfortably in the chair. “I might have said that. I don’t remember exactly. It was a long time ago.” “That sounds like something you’d say to a person who has bigger problems than just an off-day. I’ll ask you once more. What was Commander Tucker’s condition when you saw him? I’d appreciate the truth this time, Captain.” “What I said was the truth.” Archer scrubbed a hand over his forehead as he desperately tried to phrase this so that Trip didn’t come off sounding like a raving lunatic. “When Trip met with the High Priest, they talked about some things that brought back some unpleasant memories for him. He was upset.” “I think it was probably a little more serious than that. We know the commander was suffering from depression at that point. If I had to make a guess, I’d say that you thought he was having a nervous breakdown. Am I right?” She looked from Archer to Tucker and back again. Archer studied his hands clasped together in his lap. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Trip. “I’m not sure I’d go quite that far,” he said finally. “Like I said, he was…upset. Something happened while we were in the Expanse – it drove a wedge between us. We just needed to talk it out.” “And two days later he shows up and he’s fine, so fine that you were taken completely by surprise. Didn’t you find that strange?” Clenching his jaw, Archer turned away. He was afraid that his face might betray him. At the time, he’d wondered about Trip’s miracle cure. Sure, his friend had explained about the mind meld with Torok and the memories he’d recovered about his grandparents’ accident, but it had seemed almost too good to be true. After months of misery, Trip was, for all intents and purposes, back to his old self – in just two days. Jon had to admit that, sometimes when he thought about it, it did still bother him. “I was just happy to have Trip back,” Jon finally said in a carefully controlled voice. “I needed him at that meeting.” “Two days with the Vulcans, and he comes back a different person. I’d say that’s pretty damning, wouldn’t you, Captain?” She leaned over until she caught Archer’s eye. “Is it so hard to believe that this man could turn traitor? The Vulcans have been controlling him for months.” When Archer looked up, he saw Trip sitting there like a statue chiseled from a single block of granite. The emotionless mask was back in place; only his eyes allowed Jon to catch a glimpse of the pain and humiliation he was feeling. Purposely refusing to comment on Sabatini’s last question, Archer stood up and walked to the far end of the room. He had to end this right now. “Trip and I need to talk.” He jerked a thumb in the direction of the one-way glass wall, which from this side appeared no different from its other three institutional-green counterparts. “Just the two of us. No eavesdroppers.” Commander Sabatini studied him briefly. “All right, I’ll allow it, but I think you’re wasting your time.” She motioned toward the two security guards and they obediently filed out of the room. “I’m sorry about this, Jon. I didn’t want to put you on the spot, but you might as well accept the fact that you’re going to be called to testify at his court-martial. It’s all going to come out.” She tapped the padd against her hand a couple of times. “Do what you can to make him see reason. If he pleads guilty now, it’s possible that we can keep this from becoming a media circus like the Paxton trial. There’s a lot at stake here. Not just for Earth, but for this entire sector.” Tensing, Archer replied, “I don’t need you to tell me what’s at stake.” “No, of course not. I’ll be right outside. We’ll touch base when you’re finished.” “What Trip and I have to say to each other is not for…” “I’ll be outside,” she replied firmly. “Be careful, Jon. Don’t let him drag you down with him.” As soon as the door swished shut behind Sabatini, Archer realized that he didn’t know what to say. A part of him wanted to give Trip a swift kick in the ass for not cooperating. Diplomatic relations between Earth and Vulcan were hanging by a thread. This situation had to be resolved and quickly. But then again this was Trip. Jon just couldn’t bring himself to believe that his friend, the man he loved like a brother, was capable of committing treason. And as for T’Pol – the loyal first officer who had given up so much to follow him into the Expanse – he would never believe that T’Pol was a Mata Hari. Finally Trip broke the silence. “It sounds pretty damning once you hear it all laid out like that, doesn’t it?” Head bowed, he was holding the padd Sabatini had given him. He looked to Archer like a man who, low on ammunition, knew the Indians were closing in and there was no cavalry patrol in sight. “Yeah, it does.” Trip tossed the padd onto the table. “I’m sorry I got you mixed up in this.” “Don’t worry about me. Right now you’re the one everybody’s gunning for.” Archer walked over and sat down across from Trip. “Why don’t you just tell them what they want to know? Commander Sabatini isn’t your enemy. She’s just trying to protect Starfleet and Earth.” “I know that.” Trip nervously ran his fingers through his hair, a task made more challenging by the presence of the shackles. “I’ve given this a lot of thought. I’m just trying to do what’s right.” “For whom?” Jon bristled. “For the Vulcans? When did you start putting their welfare over the welfare of your own people?” “I’m not just doing this for the Vulcans.” Trip’s chin came up resolutely. Archer could practically see him preparing to dig in his heels. “I’m doing what has to be done to keep the Coalition from going under. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” “And the only way you can do that is to pass classified information to the Vulcans.” “No!” Trip exclaimed. “I’ve never given them anything…not a single word. I’m no traitor. You have to believe me!” “Why should I?” Archer hadn’t intended to be so blunt, but he was hurt that Trip wouldn’t open up to him. “When was the last time you were completely honest with me?” He pointed to the door. “I ran into Martin Granville downstairs. He says you’re thinking about leaving Starfleet to go to work for him. Were you going to tell me about that or was I just going to get a transmission from Earth one day saying, ‘Greetings from Indianapolis’?” The color rose in Tucker’s face. “I wanted to tell you, but you were busy and I was…” He flicked one hand angrily in the direction of the door. “…stuck in this damn embassy. If you want to know the truth, I’ve had quite a few offers. Starfleet sure as hell doesn’t want me. Why shouldn’t I be open to other possibilities? Sitting around all day with nothing to do but stare at four walls is not what I had in mind when I signed on.” Archer knew, of course, that Trip and T’Pol had desperately been trying to return to Enterprise. He’d intended to help them, but somehow time had gotten away from him. There was just too much to do. He should have… Now wait just a minute. Why should he feel guilty? He wasn’t the one wearing a prison jumpsuit. Trip wasn’t going to get off the hook by dumping the blame on him. “All right, I’ll admit that I should have gone to bat for you with Admiral Gardner, but this isn’t the first time that you haven’t been honest with me. When you got sick, you refused to confide in me, even when your depression began to affect your job performance. How do you think it makes me feel that you could talk to some Vulcan priest – a perfect stranger – but you couldn’t talk to me?” “I never meant to hurt you. It wasn’t planned. Once we got to the Sanctuary, Soval suggested that Torok might be willing to…” “Wait a minute.” Archer wrinkled his brow in confusion. “You didn’t know about this high priest before you went there?” “No. I…” Trip’s eyes suddenly widened and he snapped his mouth shut. “So why’d you go to the Sanctuary in the first place?” Trip ran his tongue nervously over his lips. It was obvious that he was desperately trying to come up with an answer. “Why’d you go there?” Archer repeated impatiently. Swallowing hard, Trip started to say something, but the words seemed to stick in his throat. Finally he mumbled, “Research.” “Not likely. What are you trying to hide?” Trip bit down on his lower lip and shook his head. “I’ve got nothing to say.” “Bullshit!” Archer took a deep breath, trying to keep his temper under control. “All right, if you don’t like that question, try this one on for size. What really happened on the Tar’hana? Two ships explode and all I ever got from you was the white-washed version straight from T’Pau and the High Council. Or maybe you can tell me why you were sneaking out in the middle of the night to meet with Minister Vaaris? If you weren’t handing out classified information, what were you doing? And what the hell is going on with you and T’Pol? You two are always together. You don’t even have time for a drink with me anymore.” Cleary distraught, Trip’s only response was to bury his face in his hands. Seeing his friend so upset, Archer, against his better judgment, began to weaken. “Trip, look at me.” He leaned over and, taking a hold of Tucker’s arm, gave it a reassuring squeeze. “If you’ll just talk to me, I’ll do everything I can to help you. We’ll get through this together.” When he looked up, Trip’s face crumpled in anguish. “Please don’t ask me. I can’t. I’m sorry, but…I can’t.” “T’Pol isn’t here to help you now. I am. You’ve trusted me with your life before; you can do it again.” “I gave my word.” “To whom?” “I can’t say. Please trust me just this once. I know what I’m doing. If I can just talk to Soval, I know I can …” Trip must have realized instantly that he’d made a mistake because he began to falter. “…get things …straightened…out. Cap’n?” Suddenly feeling as cold as one of the Andorian ice caves, Archer jerked his hand away from Trip’s arm. “Let me get this straight,” he hissed. “You can talk to Soval, but you can’t talk to me. Is that right?” “You don’t understand!” “No, I don’t. What about your oath to Starfleet? What about your obligation to Earth?” “I’m doing this for Earth. This isn’t what I wanted, but now I’ve got to play the hand I’ve been dealt. I’m sorry, sir.” “Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Archer snapped as he got to his feet. “I’ve never lied to you,” Trip exclaimed plaintively. “Don’t give me that! When was the last time you were completely honest with me? I thought we were supposed to be friends, damn it!” “We are.” “If this is what you call friendship I don’t want any part of it. I’ve had it up to here with your secrets.” Jon made a slashing motion across his throat. “I’m sick of having to bail you out of trouble. If you’re hell-bent on throwing away your career, I’m not going to stand in your way.” Under a full head of steam, Archer started for the door, but Trip’s voice stopped him before he could open it. “Cap’n! I didn’t give that information to the Vulcans. You’ve gotta believe me. I don’t know how they got it.” “And the two data disks that supposedly contained the Romulans’ plans – where did they come from?” “From the Vulcans.” “And where did they get them?” “I…” Trip shook his head, his blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I can’t tell you.” Gritting his teeth, Archer turned toward the door. He’d had enough. “This is the end of the line for us, Commander,” he said in a strained voice. “I’ve tried my best, but you refuse to even meet me halfway. I won’t work with people who aren’t honest with me, and I sure as hell don’t want them for a friend. “If by some stroke of luck you manage to wiggle out of this mess, don’t come looking for me; there’s no place on Enterprise for you. I doubt that any other Starfleet captain will want you, either. Maybe if you play your cards right, your buddy Granville will still be willing to give you a job.” Archer slammed his hand against the door panel and when the door slid open, he stalked out. Admiral Gardner and Commander Sabatini were waiting in the corridor for him. Angry and upset, he knew that talking to them was the last thing he wanted to do, but he was trapped. “Judging by the look on your face,” Lucy observed, “I’m going to guess that you didn’t have any more luck than I did.” When Archer shook his head, Gardner patted him sympathetically on the back. “I’m sure you did everything you could, Jon. We’ll hold off for another 24 hours to see if he comes around. After that…” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m afraid we’ll have no choice but to set a date for his court-martial.” “The sooner the better,” Lucy added. “The media vultures are already starting to circle. They know something’s up.” “When this news hits Earth,” the admiral said grimly, “it’s going to set off a tidal wave of anti-Vulcan sentiment. We’re going to be hard-pressed to keep the United Earth government from pulling out of the Coalition.” Gardner turned to Lucy Sabatini. “Commander, I want you to work with Starfleet Security. Make sure the Tucker family is taken into protective custody before news of the court-martial is made public. That family is going to have enough to deal with without bomb threats, hate mail, and a mob of reporters camping out on their front lawn.” Lucy nodded. “I’ll take care of it, sir. I think you’re right. Things are going to get very ugly before this is over.” “Schedule a date for the Article 32 hearing. Make it soon; let’s not drag this out. By the way, I know Captain Stoyakovich is coming over to serve as military judge, but who’s going to be defending Tucker?” “Lieutenant Commander Alistair Halsworthy.” “I don’t know him. Is he any good?” “Yes, sir. Very good. He came in on the Shenandoah with me last night. He’s already spoken to Commander Tucker. I’m afraid it wasn’t a very productive meeting.” “That doesn’t come as a big surprise. I want to meet Commander Halsworthy. Why don’t the two of you plan to have dinner with Admiral Uhlani and me this evening?” He placed a hand on Archer’s shoulder. “Care to join us, Jon? You look like you could use a little casual conversation, a thick porterhouse steak with all the trimmings, and a good, stiff belt of whiskey.” Archer shook his head wearily. “If you don’t mind, sir, I’ll take a rain check. I should get back to Enterprise.” “All right, but I’m going to hold you to that rain check.” “Admiral.” Archer couldn’t help grimacing. The voice belonged to Lieutenant Troeger. At least this time she wasn’t after him. “Yes, Lieutenant.” Arms folded, Gardner waited patiently as Greta hurried over to him. “Ambassador V’Lar is down at the reception desk. She wants to speak with you.” When she’d finished delivering the message, Troeger shot a scathing glance in Archer’s direction. Evidently she wasn’t one to forgive and forget. “Is she here about Commander Tucker?” “No, sir. The guard on duty at the desk said something about an invitation.” Gardner sighed and pressed one hand against his temple. “Okay, I’ll see her. Have someone escort the ambassador to my office.” “Aye, sir.” “Oh, and have we heard anything more from Columbia?” “Not since Captain Hernandez’s last transmission about three hours ago.” “Very good, Lieutenant. See to the ambassador. I’ll be right with her.” Troeger gave the admiral a brisk nod and, turning on her heel, headed back the way she came. “Is there a problem with Columbia?” Jon asked, keeping his voice level. He wasn’t sure that he could handle another friend in trouble right now. “No, but something appears to be brewing on Andoria. Over the past week, the Imperial Guard has been very active – lots of comings and goings.” “And the talks with the Andorians?” “Hernandez doesn’t hold out much hope that we’ll be able to come to any kind of agreement with the Andorian government. They’re demanding that Earth sever all ties with the Vulcans before they’ll entertain the idea of improving diplomatic and trade relations with us.” Commander Sabatini focused her attention on the floor as she ran the toe of one boot back and forth over the tile. “Depending on how this business with Tucker plays out, that might not be as far-fetched as it sounds. Earth has just about had it with the Vulcans. If strengthening our ties with the Andorians could keep us from getting dragged into another war, I’m willing to bet that there will be a for sale sign on the Vulcan Compound in short order.” “Let’s hope that isn’t necessary.” Gardner motioned toward one of the guards outside the interrogation room door. “After we’ve gone, take Commander Tucker back to his cell.” The guard snapped to attention. “Aye, sir.” “Now if you’ll excuse me, Ambassador V’Lar is waiting.” Lucy waited until the admiral was gone before saying, “I’m sorry we had to meet again under these circumstances, Jon.” “Yeah.” Archer ran a hand over the back of his neck, trying in vain to relieve the tension in his muscles. “This must be very difficult for you. The admiral told me that you and Tucker are close.” “We were.” “I’m sorry to hear that.” She took his arm and the two of them started to walk down the corridor toward the lift. “Good friends are a rare enough commodity these days. Try not to worry. We haven’t closed the investigation yet. If he’s innocent, we’ll find the proof.” When they reached the lift, Lucy leaned over and kissed Jon on the cheek. “I’ll leave you here. I have some work to do on the case. Let me buy you lunch tomorrow. It would give us a chance to talk over happier times.” Smiling weakly, Jon said, “Tomorrow is fine, but lunch is on me. I’ll send a shuttle for you at 1300. I always enjoy showing off Enterprise.” “It’s a date. See you tomorrow, Captain.” When he was finally alone, Archer headed straight for the embassy’s landing platform, taking care to avoid the lobby or any public areas where the woman from the news agency or any of her colleagues might be lurking. Travis was waiting for him and in a matter of minutes Shuttlepod One was on its way back to Enterprise. As he gazed out the viewport, Archer couldn’t get the desperate, pleading look on Trip’s face out of his mind. He knew he’d done the right thing, the only thing he could have done under the circumstances. He had to be able trust the people who served under him and Trip no longer measured up. Damn! Why did this have to happen? If given a choice, Jon knew he’d give the order to break orbit as soon as he got back on board. He wanted nothing more than to put as much distance as possible between himself and this cursed planet. It wasn’t enough that the Vulcans had kept his father from realizing his dream. Now they were not only sabotaging the Coalition he’d worked so hard to form, but also orchestrating the destruction of his best friend. Unfortunately, duty demanded that he once again put his personal feelings aside. He’d stay here, put on a brave face, and continue on as though nothing was wrong. His work would not suffer. He would not allow his anger and despair to affect his dealings with his crew. He would attend the court-martial and testify truthfully and without reservation. And when it was all over – when Trip was locked away in prison for the rest of his life – no one would ever know just how truly heartbroken he was. Before Enterprise left space dock for the first time, people had warned him that it was a mistake to get too close to members of his crew. Friendships wouldn’t last, they’d said. But in those heady days that had seemed laughable. He knew that he and Trip would be the exception; their friendship would stand the test of time. Trip was his brother in all but blood. Now it appeared as though the joke was on him. To be continued... |
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