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Ignoring the captain’s obviously facetious comments, T’Pol said, “Regardless, Captain, it seems I will soon have an opportunity to investigate the inner workings of Administrator T’Pau’s government in considerable detail.”

Archer’s frown only deepened. “What are you talking about?”

Deciding there was no point in avoiding the reason for her visit any longer, T’Pol said, “I have just received messages from Vulcan, both from the High Command and the civilian government. They have ordered me to return to Vulcan.”

Archer’s frown gave way to shock. Gently nudging the canine aside, he stood up. “As part of T’Pau’s decision to withdraw Vulcan’s ‘strategic offworld assets.’”

“‘Redeploy,’” T’Pol reminded him. “But you are essentially correct.”

Archer looked pale and bereft, like a man who had absorbed entirely too much loss in much too short a time. And that, T’Pol thought, was exactly what Jonathan Archer was, whether he understood it himself or not.

“Are they sending a ship out here to pick you up?” Archer said after sitting heavily back upon the edge of his bed.

“The High Command says it has insufficient offworld assets to send a transport ship to bring me home,” T’Pol said, hoping that this detail would provide her captain with some temporary solace. “Pursuant to Administrator T’Pau’s new redeployment orders.”

“We’re months away from Earth this far out,” Archer said, staring into the middle distance as though reviewing star charts of the core Coalition systems in his head. “But we’ll pass Vulcan on the way home. The High Command must be expecting us to drop you off there.”

T’Pol nodded. “That is my conclusion as well. I believe my superiors in the High Command are not highly motivated to expedite my return.”

An ironic smile began to displace Archer’s gloomy expression. “I understand completely. Starfleet Command frequently considers me a pain in the ass, too.”

T’Pol could see that now was the time, as the humans liked to say, to “drop the other boot.”

“I am refusing my redeployment orders, Captain,” she said, struggling to keep her voice affect-free and uninflected.

“What?”

“I intend to formally resign my commission in the Vulcan Defense Directorate in favor of my honorary Starfleet commander’s commission.”

Archer looked surprised. “Are you sure that’s wise?”

“No,” she said, seeing no reason to answer with less than perfect candor.

Archer rose to his feet again. The animal, which had been attracted back to his lap like iron filings to a magnet, issued a low growl of annoyance.

“You’re taking quite a gamble with your career, Commander,” Archer said.

T’Pol nodded. “Perhaps. But my place is here, at your side.”

Until Trip returns—if he returns—you have no one else, she thought. Besides, she felt a show of loyalty on such a scale as this was necessary in the interests of ameliorating whatever residual distrust the captain might harbor toward her since she left on an unauthorized voyage into Romulan space to rescue Trip some ten days earlier.

“I want you to go to Vulcan,” Archer said, snapping her out of her reverie.

His words had taken her completely by surprise. “I’m sorry?” she said.

“You heard me, Commander.”

“You’re not satisfied with my performance as your executive officer?” she said, confused.

“Of course I’m satisfied,” he said, his frown returning for a moment before settling down to a more benign expression. Spreading both his hands before him, the captain added, “Look, I appreciate your wanting to stay aboard Enterprise. Hell, I’ve come to depend on you a whole hell of a lot over the years, particularly now that Trip is... wherever the hell he is right now.

“But I need somebody I can trust working for me on Vulcan,” Archer said, looking into her eyes as he gently laid his hands on her shoulders. “Somebody who can at least help me figure out what T’Pau is really thinking. Somebody who might, if we’re lucky, help me persuade her to change her mind about leaving Earth