The Good That Men Do - Andy Mangels [37]
Archer frowned, annoyed to be reminded yet again of the impending diplomatic event on Earth. “If Shran hadn’t helped us, I never would’ve gotten aboard the Xindi weapon. Have you forgotten that? This alliance is based on friendship and loyalty- exactly what Shran is looking for right now.”
After a beat of silence, she said, very quietly, “I don’t trust him.”
“You don’t trust Andorians,” he said, his annoyance escalating another notch. “The Vulcan Council is a little more enlightened. If they’re willing to forge an alliance with Andoria, the least you can do is give Shran the benefit of the doubt.”
Though her Vulcan poise seemed to remain in place, Archer sensed that she was shrinking from his words, rebuked. He tried to soften his tone somewhat as he continued, “When we met four years ago, I didn’t trust you. For that matter, I didn’t trust any Vulcans. You helped me get past that, remember?” He paused, struggling for the words that would best explain the decision he’d just made. “I can’t turn my back on him, T’Pol. Try to understand.”
“I’ll try,” she said.
Porthos chose that moment to leap up onto the bed and into Archer’s lap with an enthusiastic woof. The captain tossed the water-polo ball aside and gave the beagle an affectionate scratch between the ears. T’Pol quietly edged away from Porthos, though she seemed to be making a concerted effort to be discreet about showing her persistent aversion to the dog.
Setting Porthos aside, Archer rose from the bed and crossed to the room’s small refrigeration unit, from which he extracted several small morsels of sharp cheddar cheese. He tossed them to Porthos, one at a time, and each piece vanished before hitting the deck, like skeet being launched and vaporized on a MACO phase-rifle range. Porthos sat up, his tail thumping against the deck in gratitude, his dark eyes regarding Archer expectantly.
“That’s all for today. Phlox says you need to watch your serum cholesterol.”
The beagle half growled and half whined in disappointment as Archer walked to the wall-mounted com unit beside which T’Pol was standing. He pushed the large button in the panel’s center.
“Archer to Lieutenant O’Neill.”
“O’Neill here, sir,” came the third watch commander’s crisp reply.
Archer’s eyes locked with T’Pol’s.
“Change our heading, Lieutenant. We’re going into Andorian space. Best speed.”
“Sir?”
“I want to follow the trail of that Orion slave ship. Ensign Sato will inform Shran and Theras. Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed will coordinate our efforts with theirs. Shran will provide us with the vessel’s warp-signature profile for our sensor scans.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Archer out.” He pressed the button again, closing the channel, then headed for the door.
“Captain,” T’Pol said.
He turned to face her, pausing in the open doorway. “Yes?”
“Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Always.” He stepped back toward her.
“I can’t help but wonder whether you had already made your mind up to help Shran before you contacted Admiral Gardner.”
Archer allowed himself an enigmatic smile. “I can see how it might look that way.”
“Indeed. Especially given the fact that you never came right out and asked the admiral for his permission to investigate the mass Aenar kidnapping.”
“I suppose you also noticed that Gardner never exactly ordered me not to go after the slavers. All he said was that he couldn’t order me to do it.”
She raised an eyebrow and a look rather like a smirk twisted her lips. “I will remember to mention that when I appear as a character witness at your court-martial.”
Archer couldn’t have been more stunned had she drawn a phase pistol on him and fired. “That’s remarkable, T’Pol. Did you… did you just make a joke?”
“For your sake, sir, I certainly hope so.”
Was that another one? he thought as he opened his door again. He let his enigmatic smile glide right into a mischievous grin as he walked back into the doorway.
“Sometimes,” he said over his shoulder