The Romulan War_ Beneath the Raptor's Wing (Book 1) - Michael A. Martin [166]
Phlox had apparently noticed the same thing, since he had stopped, his gaze riveted to something in the sky over the East Bay, in the direction of what Archer immediately recognized as the constellation Boötes.
With no vehicular traffic crossing that particular patch of sky at the moment, it became immediately obvious what Phlox’s keen eyes had lit upon: a double star located some ninety-seven light-years from Earth: Iota Boötis, also known as 21 Boötis, HR 5350, Asellus Secundus, and several other more or less arcane designations, including Denobula Triaxa.
Whatever astronomers and stellar cartographers had chosen to call it over the centuries, it was the place that Phlox called home—a home that lay on the opposite side of the sky from those sectors that were now under Romulan attack.
“Thinking about jumping ship, too?” Archer said, only half serious about the question.
The pained look he saw when the doctor’s deep blue eyes met his made the captain regret the jab instantly. “It has crossed my mind from time to time over the past few months. Even though I’m quite sure there’s not a drop of either Chinese egg drop soup or Greek soupa avgolemono anywhere in the Denobula Triaxa system.”
“You never told me that,” Archer said, placing his hands in his jacket pockets even though the chill in his bones had little to do with the weather.
“That’s funny,” the doctor said with a chuckle. “I thought I had said as much when I finally confessed to having encouraged Commander T’Pol’s attempt to rescue Commander Tucker from Romulan space last year.”
“That’s water over the dam, Phlox,” Archer said softly. “What goes for T’Pol and Malcolm goes for you, too. I can’t afford to lose any of you. Not now. So tell me... is something wrong back home?”
“Wrong? No, nothing to speak of, though I must confess to feeling rather wistful lately about home, and my three wives. To say nothing of all the battlefield surgery that surely lies ahead.”
Archer finally thought he was beginning to understand Phlox’s misgivings. “You’re still thinking about Tarod IX.”
“Denobulans are no more attracted to war than are the Vulcans,” Phlox said. “We don’t like being enablers of war, and I am no exception.”
“You haven’t been... ‘enabling’ war, Phlox. The Romulans attacked, and you’ve been trying to stanch the bleeding.”
“And yet it goes on and on and on. There are times when I wonder if I can do the same.” The unearthly blue eyes shone with unshed tears. “I can’t help but wonder how many of those I saved at Tarod IX will lose their lives later on in this conflict. How many have done so already?”
“That’s not your responsibility, Phlox. You’re a doctor. The Romulans have made the wrong moral choice here. Not you.”
Phlox nodded. “I keep telling myself that. And that by becoming a battlefield medic I have not endorsed or enabled war: I have merely made the best of a bad situation. I believe you humans call that ‘choosing the lesser of two evils.’”
“That’s exactly what we call it,” Archer said, nodding. But although he was glad that Phlox had decided to put a philosophical face on the horrors of war, he felt anything but encouraged himself.
“So you’re saying that you agree that there are times when one evil or another is unavoidable,” Phlox said, interrupting Archer’s reverie.
“That’s what they teach us at the Academy.”
“So by staying on as Enterprise’s CMO—by trying to save the lives the Romulans would take—I have chosen the lesser of those unavoidable evils.”
Archer frowned. “I understand the concept, Phlox. What’s your point?”
“All right,” Phlox said, holding up a placating hand. “The Kobayashi Maru.”
Archer stiffened. What, is he about to reveal he’s telepathic on top of everything else?
“What about the Maru?”
“It’s omnipresent, Captain. It’s behind your fear that I might leave Enterprise the way Ensign Mayweather did—or any of the