He imagined that Trip, who’d risked more than anyone else to try to prevent what happened on Coridan, must also be tying himself into knots of misplaced guilt and self‑recrimination at this very moment. That is, if he’s even still alive.

The only consolation Archer could find for any of them–Gardner, Trip, or himself–was his own bedrock certainty that the enormity of the Coridan catastrophe, as terrible as it was, would have been far worse had Trip not gotten his warning through, and had Archer failed to relay that warning to the Coridanites as quickly as he did.

“I can’t believe that Chancellor Kalev really thinks that withdrawing from the Coalition is a good idea,” said Malcolm Reed, who stood beside Hoshi Sato and Travis Mayweather on the steps immediately behind and above Phlox.

“Kalev has more to face than a planetary disaster,” Travis said. “His people have also been in a low‑grade civil war for years.”

“Maybe the disaster they’re dealing with will help them pull together,” Hoshi said. “Unite them politically, as one people. Maybe then they’ll be ready to enter long‑term alliances with other worlds.”

Watching the ongoing and still quite loud squabble on the debate floor, Archer wondered what that “readiness” really consisted of–and if it was really possible to maintain it. Even Soval seemed downright furious, and T’Pau appeared to be considering breaking someone’s neck with her bare hands. Right now, none of the usually dignified, patrician Vulcans appeared particularly ready for–or deserving of–interstellar goodwill, even though they had achieved domestic political unity centuries ago.

And on that score, what arewe compared tothem? Archer thought, dispirited. Earth’s political unity was only around fifteen years old, dating from the time that Earth’s last holdout, the Independent Republic of Australia, grudgingly and belatedly followed the rest of the planet’s nation‑states in joining Earth’s global federated government.

“Let’s just hope that the Coridanites eventually decide that cooperation means strength and not weakness,” Reed said. “Maybe then they’ll finally join us. If they don’t get co‑opted in the meantime by the Klingons, or the Romulans.”

Reed’s last comment sent a slow shiver down Archer’s spine. He hated to think about it, but he knew that Coridan’s conquest by either the Klingons or the Romulans–who would end up controlling what still had to be the largest known dilithium reserves in several sectors of space–would mean certain disaster for every planet represented here today, including Earth. And the effect of that disaster would be multiplied by orders of magnitude should the representatives of the remaining worlds of the still‑unformed Coalition of Planets–which now seemed to be fracturing before his eyes like an over‑stressed dilithium crystal–were to succumb to the fear engendered by Coridan’s abrupt withdrawal by failing to sign the official Coalition Compact document.

And that signing was scheduled for a mere two days from today. If this thing falls apart now, the Klingons and the Romulans will find usall pretty easy pickings,Archer thought.

He realized then that Phlox had been absolutely right. He couldn’t simply stand by and watch this happen. He had to do something,regardless of what he thought of his own diplomatic skills. Even if he were to fall flat on his face, no one could possibly be any worse off for his efforts.

Archer turned to face his crew. “Wait here,” he said, raising his voice so he could be heard above the shouts reverberating across the chamber and beyond.

Then he turned again and strode purposefully down the stairs and straight into the center of the bedlam that reigned below.

Nathan Samuels was happy about only one thing: that he wasn’t carrying a phase pistol at the moment. With the Coalition literally falling apart before his very eyes, he was certain that he wouldn’t have hesitated to use the weapon on himself, and at its most lethal setting.

Once again, he vainly banged his gavel on his lectern. But no one was listening, or could even hear above the tumult.

Then he heard a high‑pitched whistle that pierced the wall of noise, startling every raised voice in the room into silence. The Vulcans, whose hearing was no doubt more acute than that of anyone else present, all appeared to be in some real physical pain as a result of the sound.

Samuels was only slightly surprised to note that it was an extremely grim and resolute‑looking Jonathan Archer who had stepped into the wide breach that his whistle had torn in the curtain of dismay and raised voices.

“The chair recognizes Captain Jonathan Archer,” Samuels said with a slowly spreading smile. He hadn’t forgotten the words of encouragement Archer had delivered the last time the Coalition of Planets’ debating practices had nearly become lethally contentious, in the wake of John Frederick Paxton’s recent acts of terrorism.

Archer took several more steps into the chamber, stopping when he reached the center, around which were arranged the long, semicircular tables occupied by the delegates.

“Thank you, Minister,” he said, nodding respectfully toward Samuels before returning his steely gaze to the assembled delegates, who had nigh miraculously remained quiet but for a few murmurs. Everyone present evidently had respect for this man–even the argumentative Tellarites, apparently–and seemed genuinely curious about what he intended to say.

“In spite of what’s happened here today, I still believe this Coalition is going to work,” Archer said, addressing the room in a strong, resounding voice.

Respect or no, the senior Tellarite delegate Gral rose to his feet, clearly unable to contain his reaction. “Hah! How can you be so certain of that, human?”

Archer displayed his even, white teeth. Following Tellarite etiquette to the letter, he said, “Because, Ambassador Gral, not even one so socially maladapted as yourself is stupid enough to allow this Coalition to fail.”

The Vulcans raised surprised eyebrows while Minister Haroun al‑Rashid grinned and Ambassador Thoris glowered. Gral folded his arms before him and nodded, but hurled no invective in the captain’s direction. Samuels breathed a quiet sigh of relief when Gral quietly took his seat again, evidently having taken Archer’s Tellarite‑style harangue as amicable, and not ironic or hostile.

“All of you are probably far better equipped than I am to imagine the consequences to all of us should this Coalition fail,” Archer continued. “And nothing illustrates that better than what has just happened on Coridan Prime.”

Archer began pacing slowly across the room’s center, gesturing broadly with his hands as he spoke. “When I first took command of Enterprise,I expected to be surprised by whatever we might find out there. I also expected that we would make some new friends. I knew that we probably wouldn’t be able to avoid making a few new adversaries as well. So far, we’ve encountered more than our share of the latter. The Suliban. The Klingons. The Tandarans. The Xindi.

“Now we face the Romulans, who have already done more damage than all of the others combined. And we don’t even know what they looklike yet. Like the Klingons, they can bring each of our worlds to its knees if they manage to prevent us from trading with the Coridanites for what’s left of their energy reserves. Of course, that trade will be damned tough to manage without the common purpose of a broad interstellar alliance.

“And what happens next, with no Coalition for any of us to lean on? I’ll tell you what.” Archer pointed toward Gral as he continued to pace. “You Tellarites will start squabbling again with the Coridanites over trade issues, and that’ll mean war. It won’t be long before the Andorians get dragged into it.” He glowered at Thoris, then faced Soval and T’Pau with a very hard stare. “Maybe the Vulcans will have to send ships and troops at that point, too, since the Andorians have been your main competitors for dilithium for a long time, and since neither of you has ever had much reason to trust the other.”