Star Trek Enterprise Bk. 03 - The War Ch. 11

Over the next few days every detail of the mission was poured over and the other five members of the ground team were chosen to accompany Lt. D'Arcy and Maj. Forrest. Lt. Reed adamantly wanted to be a part of it, but ultimately it was decided that he would be far more useful manning the weapons console once they had control of the drone ships. Maj. Forrest hand picked the other five members of the team. Sergeants Garnet, Rosewood, Carmine, Current and Cochineal were all good men with exemplary records that had shown courage in battle. They understood well what was on the line and the risk that was involved. All of them were willing to take it.

Every possible beaming location on the planet Charon was scouted for safety. The last thing they needed to do was drop seven people in the middle of a battalion of Romulan troops. Over and over they discussed where to hide the ship from Romulan sensors while still being close enough to get the team out when the time came. Every senior officer thought they had the perfect answer, but ultimately T'Pol found the sweet spot. Every detail of the mission was carefully planned out, minute by minute. Duplicate cloaks were made and they rehearsed wearing them. Weapons were selected and each member spent time running drills with them. Acher, Nathan, T'Pol, and even Trip all wanted to know how Lt. D'Arcy was going to overcome the language barrier since the Romulan's would undoubtedly recognize the universal translator. She never fully explained, just assured them that she had it well in hand.

The food poisoning incident had faded into memory for everyone except Lt. D'Arcy. She still couldn't quite shake it although most of the time she felt fine. There was far too much to do and far too much at stake for her to give in to anything as trivial as that. It was hardly the first time she had shown that attitude. The first time that she could recall was at the age of seven while competing against the other kids during a field day on the holodeck of the Enterprise-D. Her father was giving the awards and she was expected to participate in an obstacle course. Part of it consisted of climbing a wall, which she had practiced numerous times and succeeded, boosting her confidence. The day of the event she made it to the top but as she was going over she slipped and cracked two ribs and her clavicle. The pain was terrible but seeing her father watching her, she kept on going and won. The look of pride in her father's eyes as he slipped the medal around her neck was worth it even as she clutched her side and fought back tears of pain.

Of course now there was a lot more on the line then winning a medal and making Jean-Luc Picard proud. The entire future of Earth, the Coalition of Planets, the birth of the Federation and everything she knew was on the line, not to forget that six men were putting their lives in her hands. They were trusting her to get them safely in and safely out. On the one hand she knew the mission was sound and she had checked and rechecked for errors many times over and had plans in place for every possible contingency. On the other hand, she couldn't help second guessing herself. What if she missed something? What if everything went wrong? What if she was leading them all to their death? These thoughts made sleep impossible. At night, when the ship was at its quietest, Danaë would wander down to the mess hall and stare at the stars, wishing she could summon her father's courage. She never needed it more than the night before such an important mission.

Lt. D'Arcy must have watched her father, Jean-Luc Picard, do the same thing a million times growing up, especially when the future seemed the most uncertain. There was something reassuring about seeing those countless heavenly bodies hanging out there for endless millenia that made every human care seem small and insignificant. That she should be thinking of him right before embarking on such a dangerous mission only seemed right and for a brief moment she wondered what he would say about it all. No doubt he would say that it was 'dangerous and a foolish undertaking that could only lead to certain death' just like Archer. Neither were wrong.

She heaved a sigh reminding herself that whatever protestations he would have had at her going on this mission, he would not have hesitated to risk his own life if there was even the slightest chance of success. This was true for both her father and Jonathan Archer. For her the decision was easy. If she and her team pulled this off then they would have an armada that would easily put an end to the Romulan threat. IF. Everything was riding on that one big IF.

She turned to the table closest to her and looked down at the half written letter she had started and picked up her pen. She had so much to say to Archer and yet couldn't quite find the words. With a sigh she scrawled out a few more heartfelt words while making sure to stay away from any of her father's witty sayings. That had not gone over so well the last time she used them. In the silence of the mess hall the tip of the pen made soft scratching sounds against the paper. She spoke of all he had been to her these last few years and how sorry she was not to be there for the future they had planned. She wrote about the future, telling Acher all he would bring about and just how great a man... a leader... he would be. She expressed her love for him and assured him that it could never really be the end for them as the wheel of time would always lead her back to him.

Not sure of what else she should say, she set her pen down and looked absently off in the distance as her fingers twirled the sparkling star pendant Archer had gotten her on Risa. Not once had she taken it off since he had first put it around her neck. She wore it close to her heart beneath her uniform where no one could see it, but she could feel it and that was all that mattered. Here she was professing her love and yet there had been a time when she had gazed upon portraits of President Archer and had seen nothing but a stuffy, humorless, old man who cared more about rules and regulation than people. Just hearing his name had often made her physically cringe.

The most notable experience of this was when she was thirteen years old. It had been made quite clear to her that she wasn't allowed to go into the engine on the Enterprise-E. In fact there were only a small number of places she was permitted to enter at all and they were all the most boring and benign spots like Ten Forward, or sometimes the holodeck (of course there she was locked out of most programs or the safety was on). There was no overriding the captain's lock, at least not without an admiral's authorization, or the combined authorization of the senior officers or Beverly Crusher's. The doctor could always override if the captain was deemed mentally or physically incapacitated. Dr. Crusher was never going to do that.

At first Danaë was pleased that her father had made special arrangements for her to stay with him on the Enterprise-E. It was proof in her mind that he wanted her and loved her, something she often questioned due to his long hours and sporadic absences on missions. The excitement of joining him quickly fizzled as she found herself in a state of constant boredom. This new ship was not a family vessel so there were no other children on board and very little she was allowed to do. Captain Picard tried to keep her occupied by adding to her studies, such as learning Romulan and Klingon along with French and Latin. He even threw in piano lessons, which she neither enjoyed or liked.

Desperately seeking to stem the monotony, Danaë reverted to her usual way of amusing herself, hacking. She had usually kept it to small things like reprogramming the food replicator or simply lifting Captain Picard's parental lock on the holodeck. She did it all using the tricorder she had stolen and reprogrammed. Its disappearance had already caused a stir as she had taken it from a supply container of new ones being loaded onto the ship. In reality it had been the favorite tricorder of a certain Ensign McDermott and he had gone so far as to name it Auto. The ensign filed repeated reports on its theft and periodically approached the captain to know if it had been found yet. Danaë had not known about the ensign's attachment, only that it had been sitting on top of the others and assumed it was one of the new ones.

These small side-steps to authority were enough to keep her off the ship's radar for the first several years they were on board. Unfortunately it couldn't stave it off forever. Perhaps it was inevitable that she would eventually get caught. At the time she told herself that she had made her foolhardy decision because her mind was just too gifted and always looking to learn how things worked. Captain Picard saw it for what it was, a burgeoning teenage rebellion. She had just turned thirteen a few days before and the desire to push boundaries and exert her independence was driving her. She still loved to bring up the NX-01 on the holodeck and walk around and manipulate everything, but it wasn't the same as a real engine. She longed to lay her hands on the real thing and soon decided she would.

The first thing she needed to do was bypass the sensors on the control panel so she could have access to the touch screens. The consoles of every starship were designed to read the fingerprints and DNA of skin cells and recognize only those authorized to use the system. If Danaë touched the console nothing would happen since she had no authorization. She would soon fix that though. Using her altered tricorder she accessed her father's computer and began to make changes to the protocols and give herself access to the consoles. Although some might argue that she was a bit of a prodigy when it came to engineering, she was still a kid and with one wrong, fat-fingered, keystroke she accidentally wiped out all of Commander Geordi LaForge's access.

The issue was discovered instantly followed by a rapid investigation that led right back to Danaë since all changes came from the computer in the captain's quarters. Oh how her father tore into her. Never had she seen so much anger in her father's eyes, at least not since they had gone back in time to the very first contact and fought the Borg to save the Enterprise. He cited every thing that could have gone wrong. How many people could have been killed... how she could have been killed had her plan actually worked and she attempted to play around in the engine room. He demanded to know how she had hacked into the system, but she never spoke. She stood there tight lipped and refused to answer him. At her defiant attitude Picard started to remind her of what an officer's first duty was and that was the truth. He began to cite articles on the matter written by President Archer and even started quoting him. Perhaps he had only said the name once, but to her it sounded like a broken record skipping and repeating the name Archer.

"Yes, I believe that is chapter 56 verse 19 of the holy book of President Jonathan Archer." She responded flippantly, but still not giving up her tricks. Usually she just stood there and waited for him to run out of steam, but this time, hearing him once more lord over her, the perfect wisdom of the first Starfleet captain just grated on her and she couldn't take another moment of it. Picard also seemed surprised to hear her talk back to him and he didn't like this change in attitude. "Perhaps you need some new material from a different dead figurehead"

"Well, if you feel you have too much time on your hands and need something to do, then perhaps there is a place for you after-all."

After that, when she wasn't studying she was working in Ten Forward with Guinan. At the memory, Danaë couldn't help laughing to herself. How stupid she had been back then. What would she have thought if she had known she would fall in love with the very man so often quoted in her disciplinary lectures. Of course back then what did she know of Archer except his presidential portrait where he appeared aged and stoic. Now she couldn't imagine life without him.

She looked down at her writing then dropped the pen and went back to the window. She never was good at expressing her feelings. She had so much she wanted to say, but her words just seemed feeble. With a sigh she once more picked up the pen then looked up to see T'Pol walk into the mess hall and get herself a drink. Calmly she walked over to the lieutenant, surprised to see her still awake, or at least as surprised as a Vulcan could be.

"I should think you would be resting up for your mission tomorrow."

"I couldn't sleep. Too much to think about," This answer seemed only logical to the sub-commander as she well understood what was on the line. However, she also knew having one's strength during such an undertaking was vital and looking at a plate on the table with food that was untouched it was obvious the lieutenant had not been eating either.

"Is there something wrong with your food? I'm sure chef..."

"No, no. It's fine. My stomach has just been out of sorts, that's all. Probably just nerves."

"Lieutenant, if you are having second thoughts, I'm sure Captain Archer... " T'pol started to say, but was quickly cut off by Danaë.

"I'm sure he would," Lt. D'Arcy smirked. She was well acquainted with the captain's opinion regarding her going on this mission and she couldn't disagree with his feelings.

"Under the circumstances fear is a natural emotion to have. The odds of success are at least..."

"I know the odds, sub-commander. Sometimes it takes courage to try, despite the odds. Courage is an emotion too. Isn't it the Vulcans that say 'The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few?'"

"Or the one." T'Pol finished, well versed in the statement. "Are you afraid of dying?" The sub-commander had been in many a starship that was being fired upon and shook to its very bolts before. She had stared into the eyes of dead bodies of various species, even her own. She had held her own child (a genetic creation made by the terrorist group Terra Prime) as it passed out of this world. Even with all that she had never had to face her own mortality and she was curious.

"Yes... no... both, I guess," she answered, as best she could. "Vulcan's believe that their katra can exist outside the body and even be passed on to another. It's what the captain experienced first hand at the Forge." she punctuated this with a half-hearted laugh, although T'Pol could only raise an eyebrow. She still had doubts about what Archer had experienced despite all he seemed to know and open their eyes to. "Humans have a similar belief. Each of us carries a soul and some would say that when you die you go to heaven or hell depending on if they were good or bad. I have no great belief about either. I do think that whatever happens tomorrow, I will find my way back home. If it goes well, then that will be here on the NX-01 with all of you. If it doesn't... then my soul will go to my family's home in La Barr and walk among the rows of grapes where I believe every Picard goes. I think I will find my father there some day."

Danaë sat down at the table and began writing feverishly then set the pen aside and started folding the paper. This was only one of many preparations she had before the zero hour hit, but for her it was one of the most important. There were so many things she had never said to Jonathan Archer, things she wanted him to know should things go bad. Or a moment she sat holding the folded piece of stationery and wondered if it was enough. Was there something else she needed to say? Would he understand? Deciding it would have to suffice, she carefully slipped the folded paper into an envelope, sealed it, then wrote 'Jonathan' across the front. Satisfied, she looked back at T'Pol contemplating her next step.

"Can I ask a favor of you, sub-commander?" the lieutenant asked, hesitantly. "I'm not one to open up and firmly believe in keeping my personal life to myself, but I find myself in need of someone I can confide in, someone capable of showing great deal discretion."

"Of course."

This was a great relief to Danaë, but she still found herself struggling to find the right words. Quietly she rose, still holding the envelope in her hands, and turned to look out the window at the stars. Silently she asked her father for strength, a habit she had gotten into as a child. He had always appeared so strong to her, even now he did even though she understood just how fragile a captain can be. Her finger tip traced the edge of her letter as she found her words.

"Captain Archer has a way of putting on a face that appears confident and brave. All good captains do. I'm sure you know, as do I, that he is not as strong as he appears. He will need someone to keep him going, to keep him fighting. I know he will win this war and go on to great things, but he is less confident in that and will need someone to keep pushing him should I not come back. Please promise me that you will be there to kick his ass when he needs it." At this phrase T'Pol raised an eyebrow clearly uncertain how physically striking the captain would help. "I'm speaking figuratively." Danaë explained.

The sub-commander was rather surprised by this request. Based on her own observations she had never noticed even a hint of friendship between the captain and lieutenant. On those occasions when she had seen them together it was technical jargon regarding ship or engine repairs and modifications. She had never witnessed them having any personal interaction or even a friendly conversation. In fact rumors circulated that they did not get along and that was why they communicated as they did. Of course the sub-commander was never one to believe gossip and she knew well that appearances could be deceiving. She and Trip Tucker had done a fine job of concealing their own feelings and closeness from the rest of the ship. She could see that Danaë was excellent at burying her emotions, but they still were apparent in her eyes and T'Pol could see them. Perhaps there were more secrets hiding in the walls of this ship than anyone realized.

"I will look out for the captain," she assured the lieutenant. "And you can trust in my discretion."

"Thank you."

While this was a relief to the Lieutenant, it could not assuage all of her doubts and fears. Nor could any words she put on paper ease pain and heartbreak that the captain would feel if she didn't make it back from her mission. This was weighing heavily on the captain's mind as well. He couldn't even pay attention to the water polo game he had turned on in his quarters. It was the most recent match from Earth and hoping to distract himself he had invited Cmdr Tucker to watch it with him. Normally Archer would have been shouting and cheering over his favorite team scoring, but he had hardly looked at the screen and instead was nervously bouncing his polo ball off the wall over and over again in rapid succession. A few random bounces against the wall didn't usually bother Trip, but the constant whappity-whappity was quickly becoming annoying and more than a little distracting. Before the captain could give the ball another toss, Tucker grabbed it from his hands and walked it over to the desk where he set it down.

"Somethin' on your mind, cap'?"

"Sorry," he answered, realizing for the first time just how much he was bouncing that ball. "I guess I just can't stop thinking about tomorrow's mission."

"For what it's worth, if anybody can pull this off and survive then it's Lt. D'Arcy."

"Maybe," Archer answered as Porthos jumped up on the bed and laid across his lap.

"I'm not gonna lie, I don't pretend to know where she came from or how she ended up way out here in space. I'm not even going to pretend I haven't wanted to knock her on her ass a few times for pushing her luck and coming damn close to insubordination." Cmdr Tucker explained. At the description the captain's lips curved into a smile and a slight ripple of laughter escaped. "Seriously, there are days when she is a colossal pain in the ass, but I know that any task I assign her to is not only done, but better then I asked for."