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Of course not, he thought, chiding himself for questioning T’Pau’s integrity. That integrity, that steadfast devotion to a principle, lay at the crux of her stubborn refusal to bring Vulcan into this war. The captain still hadn’t given up hoping to persuade her that choosing to fight was not the same as selling out her beliefs; he felt certain that the argument was far from finished.

“Well, at least she’s consistent,” he said, tucking the module into one of the cubbies on his desk. “That’s better than being corrupt, as appears to be the case with Kuvak—not to mention whomever he’s conspiring with.”

“My V’Shar contacts on Vulcan are continuing to try to determine who those co-conspirators may be,” she said. “With some help from Commander Tucker.”

Archer leaned forward in his chair, grabbing his desk for balance. “Trip? You’ve seen him? How is he?”

“He is well. He is working on Vulcan. And he wishes to return to Enterprise.”

“That works for me. Why the hell didn’t he come back here with you now?”

“He nearly did. But the commander decided that he needed to resolve certain... complexities to his satisfaction first.”

Over the past year Archer had given a great deal of thought to the many complexities Trip would face once he finally did return from the dead. As far as his family knew, Trip was dead, a fact that had provided Section 31 with an operative who could leave no trail because he did not officially exist. Archer didn’t much like the way they used Starfleet officers, the charter be damned.

“‘Complexities’?” Archer asked.

“For the most part, those complexities involve a Romulan military officer who is presently operating on Vulcan,” she said.

“A Romulan. Operating on Vulcan.” Just when I thought she’d run out of ways to surprise me, he thought.

“This Romulan has been conditioned, however, to believe that he is a Vulcan operative in the employ of the V’Shar.”

“Let me guess,” Archer said, holding up a hand. “This fake Vulcan agent could lapse into full Romulan mode at any moment.”

With a nod, she said, “The commander has elected to remain on Vulcan for an indeterminate period in an effort to prevent exactly that.”

Archer sighed. He was beginning to wonder if he would ever recover the best chief engineer he’d ever had, and his friend.

The shrill whistle of the intercom cut off his next question. Pushing a button on his desk, he said, “Archer here. Go ahead.”

“Lieutenant Reed, Captain,” Malcolm said unnecessarily. “The long-range sensors have just made contact with a ship.”

“Type of vessel?”

“It’s still on the edge of sensor resolution, sir. All we can tell so far is that it’s coming in at high warp—and it’s on an intercept course.”

The rest of the debriefing would have to wait. “Tactical Alert,” he said as he rose from his chair. “I’m on my way.”

Though the ship that appeared on the long-range sensors was not the one that Archer had hoped to see, he was nevertheless grateful for its arrival. The captain still held out the hope that Columbia would put in a miraculous eleventh-hour appearance as part of his attack group, but he was glad to have the I.G.S. Weytahn throw in with the Deneva fleet.

“Have you heard the news from Altair VI, General?” he said to the man whose hard, azure visage stared at him intently from the view-screen.

“I have, pinkskin,” said Shran. “The Coalition has achieved a proud victory over the Romulans today.”

“Which wouldn’t have been possible without the support of the Imperial Guard,” Archer said. “Starfleet is in your debt for persuading your government to help us hold the line against the Romulans.”

“You may be overestimating my influence, Captain. Especially once my government takes the cost in lives and starships into account.” He smiled. “But I have never minded having you in my debt.”

Archer found he didn’t have it in him to return that smile. “Whatever it takes to drive the bastards back where they came from, General. Whatever it takes.”

“Indeed. I see you’ve assembled quite an assault fleet.