Goddammit!Archer thought, kicking himself, hard. Why didnt I see this coming?

Struggling to keep any trace of anger out of his voice, he said, “When did Commander TPol depart, Ensign?

“Let me check the log, sir.A pause. “Yesterday evening at eleven‑hundred hours, nine minutes.

“Thank you, Ensign. Archer out.

TPol had no doubt wanted him to believe that shed been in meditation continuously since around that time, Archer reflected. Now he understood clearly the realreason she hadnt been on the bridge when Enterprisehad received Columbias report about the Klingon attack on Draylax. So much for that renowned Vulcan inability to lie, he thought. That little whopper has got to be the most useful lie the Vulcans ever got us to swallow.

And as a partial consequence of that lie, TPol was now off on a foolish quest in hostile territory.

All alone.

He keyed the com again. “Archer to Reed. He paused to await a response, but none came. Though he hated to bother a man afflicted with the sort of nasty gastrointestinal trouble that had sidelined Malcolmespecially at such a late hourhe pressed on. “Malcolm, I need to talk to you. Even if we have to chat through the bathroom door.

Still nothing.

Oh, no, he thought, shaking his head as he struggled to tamp down a rising tide of anger. Well, at least she hasnt charged off to oblivion alone.

It occurred to him that at least one of them would have left him a note before doing something so damned stupid. Taking a seat before TPols monitor, he started searching the com logs.

The desktop terminal brightened a few moments later, then suddenly displayed the serious‑miened faces of Enterprises exec and weapons officer. They were standing awkwardly side‑by‑side in a cramped, dimly illuminated cabin that Archer immediately recognized as the interior of his missing shuttlepod. Both were out of uniform, clad instead in dark, nondescript clothing devoid of any visible insignia linking them to Starfleet, Earth, or the Coalition.

“Captain Archer, by the time you view this recording, Lieutenant Reed and I will probably be deep inside Romulan territory,TPol began without preamble. “Please accept my apologies for the ratherunorthodox actions we have taken. However, our mission is one of the utmost importance. And not merely for the safety of the man we both know as Lazarus.

Lazarus, Archer repeated silently, recalling the code name Trip had used when he had delivered his last‑minute warning about the attack on Coridan.

“I must also protect the vital work that Lazarus is performing inside the Romulan sphere of influence,TPol continued. “Should we fail, the repercussions will be incalculably larger than the life of any one person.

“Or evenour lives, I suppose,Malcolm said.

Something written millennia ago by the Vulcan philosopher Surak, a long‑dead man whose living spirit had nonetheless once briefly shared the space inside his skull, sprang unbidden into Archers head, soothing his roiling emotions: The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.

Reed added, “I know I once promised you that I was finished with this kind of subterfuge, Captain, and that my first loyalty was to you and toEnterprise I understand the consequences of my actions. But I wouldnt be doing this if I thought we had a better alternative.

As he listened, Archer felt a renewed surge of anger begin to sweep away the calming memory of once having been in close proximity to Suraks peaceful, orderly mind. How could the two of them leaveEnterprise at a time like this?he thought. Regardless of TPols vehement certainty that Trip was in mortal danger, her actions were a far cry from what hed come to expect from his logical first officer. Reed, yes. Trip, certainly. But not TPol.

“If it is at all possible,TPols image said, “we will return toEnterprise at our earliest opportunity, to take responsibility for our unauthorized actions. And to face whatever disciplinary consequences await us.

She raised her right hand in a familiar split‑fingered gesture. “Live long, and prosper.

The message abruptly ended.

Slumping backward into TPols chair, Archer sighed into the semidarkness that surrounded him. Whatever qualms he had about what his subordinates had just done, he knew there could be no changing any of it now. The die was cast. Railing against what was done would do absolutely no good.

“Godspeed, he whispered to the blank screen.

Even before hed heard the recording, the main reason behind TPol and Malcolms clandestine stunt had been glaringly obvious to him.

Trip.

And because this entire business revolved around a man believed dead by all but a handful of people, there was only one person currently aboard Enterprisewith whom Archer could speak freely about what TPol and Malcolm were trying to do.

His frustration welled up again, and he slammed his fist down on another com button, striking the console nearly hard enough to shatter it. He found the pain that shot through his hand strangely calming.

“Archer to Phlox, he said, addressing the one crew member who would be awake regardless of the lateness of the hour. “Doctor, I have a hugeproblem on my hands.

SEVENTEEN

Friday, July 18, 2155 83 Leonis V

T RIP FOUND HIMSELFadrift in a borderless white nothingness that seemed to stretch out into infinity.

He tried to calm the terror that clawed his guts. I must be dreaming,he thought, though the vivid clarity of his senses argued otherwise. As did the fact that he had been to this very same nonplace before.

A familiar voice behind him spoke urgently. “Trip.

Though he didnt understand how his feet were able to find purchase in this insubstantial netherworld, he nevertheless planted them solidly and turned toward the sound.

TPol stood before him, attired in a Starfleet uniform. “Are you safe at the moment?

He chuckled and waggled his hand back and forth. “Safe enough to fall asleep about a swords length away from a Romulan soldier who thinks Im a Vulcan spy. Or maybe Im just tired enough to hallucinate.

“Youre not asleep, Trip. And youre not hallucinating or dreaming.

He shrugged. “Then I guess Im as safe as safe gets here in the belly of the beast. Unless my watchdog decides to turn on me, that is.

The only thing he felt fairly certain about was that Admiral Valdore wasnt deliberately feeding him disinformation. At least not since hed received independent confirmation from Captain Stillwell that an Earth Cargo Service freighter had indeed gone missing from its pre‑filed course, a fact that was consistent with the Klingon attack that a Romulan outpost had reported having witnessed in the Gamma Hydra sector.

TPol nodded, a look of concern threatening to overwhelm her usual Vulcan stoicism. “Help is coming, Trip. In the meantime, please be careful.

He smiled at the dream‑image of the woman with whom hed once thought he might build a future. But he knew enough about nostalgia and wish‑fulfillment fantasies to resist believing that she was really communicating with him telepathically and in real time across all the boundless light‑years that separated them.

And he knew enough about life not to expect any hairbreadth rescues or other miracles to intervene on his behalf.

“I promise to wear my mittens until the cavalry comes, he said, not quite suppressing an ironic smile.

She raised an eyebrow in a classic expression of Vulcan perplexity. “Stay safe, Trip, she said after a seemingly uncertain pause. “And remain vigilant.

I know,Trip thought wistfully. I guess I still love you, too.