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“Thank you, sir,” she said, not sure whether to be grateful for his consideration, or to attempt to appreciate his attempt at droll humor. Her gratitude at not having to endure the whistle was quite real, however; because of her sensitive Vulcan hearing, she found the traditional naval instrument’s upper-partial overtones to be highly unpleasant, particularly at close quarters and in the reverberating acoustics of the launch bays.

Malcolm Reed emerged from the shuttlepod next, stepping onto the catwalk beside her as the captain moved toward a nearby companel.

“Archer to bridge.”

“Leydon here, Captain. Go ahead.”

“Shuttlepod One is docked, Ensign. Make best speed back to the Deneva-bound fleet, and return us to our point position at the head of it.”

“Aye, sir.”

Signing off, Archer strode purposefully toward the nearest turbolift. T’Pol slung her bag over her shoulder and fell into step beside him, leaving Reed and Sato to follow.

“It appears that I have chosen a propitious moment to return to Enterprise, Captain,” she said.

“You might say that, Commander,” Archer said with a nod as the group exited the launch bay and moved quickly toward E deck’s core. “You’ve been missed around here, that’s for damned sure. I’m relieved that we won’t have to liberate Deneva without you. And D.O. told me she’ll be extremely relieved to go back to being just the gamma-shift watch officer.”

It was only as they approached the central turboshaft, where the overhead light fixtures were closer to the deck than those in the launch bay, that she noticed how haggard the captain looked. He seemed to have aged a decade during her months-long absence. She experienced a pang of regret for having agreed to leave for such an extended period, especially with so little to show for it.

“I look forward to resuming my post, Captain,” she said as Archer allowed Reed and Sato to enter the open turbolift ahead of him. Archer got in next, but stopped on the threshold and turned to face T’Pol.

“I think you can find the time to visit your quarters first,” he said. “Drop off your luggage, get reacquainted with the ship—” He paused as he stepped all the way inside the lift, then pointed at her robe with a slight smirk. “And maybe think about putting on a regulation uniform, Commander.”

The turbolift doors hissed shut, leaving her standing alone in the corridor. It was true that the stresses of the past year had etched themselves indelibly upon the captain’s face. But in a fundamental and strangely reassuring way, he hadn’t changed at all.

Although Archer had expected T’Pol to waste no more time getting to the bridge than it took for her to don a uniform, his prodigal exec made it to her station even more quickly than he’d expected. Since the fleet was still hours away from the Kappa Fornacis system and Deneva, now seemed to be the ideal time to begin debriefing T’Pol about her mission on Vulcan. He asked her to join him in his ready room.

Archer was disappointed to learn that Administrator T’Pau still hadn’t budged. He wasn’t surprised, however, given everything T’Pol was telling him about T’Pau’s commitment to pure Syrrannite principles and her recent intimate contact with the living katra of Surak.

But T’Pol’s revelation that she had unearthed an apparent conspiracy within the Vulcan government—a plot to smuggle Vulcan arms technology into Romulan-controlled territory, no less—not only surprised him, it all but floored him.

“And you say you’ve found evidence implicating Minister Kuvak in this thing?” he asked, incredulous.

Standing in front of his desk, she reached across it to hand him a data module. “All the data and analysis are here.”

“What about T’Pau?” he said, staring at the module as though it were some poisonous insect that had lit on his hand. “Is she involved with this thing somehow?”

T’Pol shook her head. “If she is, she is probably the victim of a deception. I do not believe she would willingly work against