Last Full Measure - Michael A. Martin [104]
One of those insights was this: Xindi humanoids were fairly homogeneous politically, ideologically, and philosophically. And because of the at least superficial resemblances between his species and the Terran humans, Degra had to assume that Archer and his crew had achieved a degree of unity of purpose similar to that which his own species had attained—a unanimity that now had to be spread equally among five completely disparate species if any of the Xindi races were to stand any chance at all of long-term survival.
A sense of deep emptiness and dark despair enfolded Degra’s soul as he quietly considered these weighty matters. Was such a degree of unity even possible, especially among races as fractious as those of the Xindi homeworld? Was there even the slightest chance that the humans might be riven by internal conflicts resembling those that continually threatened to distract the Council from the urgent, essential business of slaying the enemy?
Guruk’s long, hissing exhalation pulled Degra abruptly back from his reverie. “Very well. We will agree to follow your and Narsanyala’s recommendation and maintain a low military profile—for now.”
“As will we,” Shresht said. “Unless the human threat escalates significantly before Degra’s Weapon Project is ready to deploy.”
After the formal vote that followed, Degra felt enormously relieved that all parties had voiced their assent, however grudgingly, to a motion against making any risky alterations to the Xindi homeworld’s current military posture. Immediately following the tally, the reptilians and insectoids rose as one and exited the chamber, followed by Narsanyala, whose continued faith in Degra’s ability to keep the Weapon Project on track was arguably all that was keeping the Council from splitting asunder and turning on itself.
Walking out into the wide, stately corridor with Mallora at his side, Degra rallied his flagging spirits with the hope that the Xindi’s unity of purpose would ultimately prove at least equal to that of the humans.
For at least the several moonturns that remained until the Weapon could embark on its fifty-six-
light-cycle journey to Earth, all Xindi races would stand united. They had no other viable choice.
But what’s going to happen afterward is anybody’s guess, Degra thought as he headed for the courtyard, eager to feel the wan light of the Xindi sun against his face.
Eighteen
Friday, September 14, 2153,
Enterprise NX-01
EVER SINCE HIS MOTHER had died during his childhood, Jonathan Archer had hated funerals. But even before he entered Starfleet’s command track, he had known that such affairs were unavoidable. He knew that was so no matter how much sweat and blood he might invest in safeguarding the crew in his charge—people he had come to regard over the past two years as a sort of de facto family, a feeling that had only intensified since Enterprise’s long, isolated, and open-ended sojourn in the Delphic Expanse had begun. And he had always been bitterly aware that the task of commemorating the passing of any member of his shipboard family was a duty that fell squarely on his shoulders, and on nobody else’s.
Archer stood in silence in the armory located on the forward end of F deck, where more than two dozen assorted Starfleet personnel and MACO troopers stood facing him with somber, solemn faces, some red and moistened by their anguish, while others merely looked harder and more resolute than usual. Hoshi, Phlox, D.O., and Travis numbered among the former camp, while Hayes, T’Pol, Malcolm, and Trip belonged to the latter. Gazing briefly from face to face, from his own command crew to various members of the MACO complement, which included Corporal McKenzie and Sergeant Kemper, Archer noticed that Enterprise’s Starfleet contingent held no monopoly over the tears that were being quietly shed all around the room.
The armory had always seemed cramped to Archer, even when it accommodated only the various racks of variable-yield photonic torpedoes and the other weapons it was designed to hold. The large number of people who now