Author's Note:

This is my first submission and I don't claim to be even an aspiring author. I do have this incessant drive to write and that's largely what this story is designed to appease. Just a fantasy that's been spinning around in my head for quite a while now, I thought I'd toss it out here for other, much more talented authors to rip to shreds.

Best case scenario: I'll get some constructive criticism that might, possible, just maybe make some future submission palatable. If you some constructive criticism laying around not tagged for anything in particular, by all means feel free to toss some of it my way.

Nevertheless, take this as fair warning. If you're a serious writer of any sort you'll probably end up scratching your eyeballs out after reading this one. I have never taken a writing course of any kind, haven't even pretended to try to improve my writing skills up to this point and this whole mess is designed solely to meet my own ready approval.

If you were to lower your standards sufficiently, you might enjoy the story of course. But if you find that too difficult to be worth the effort then by all means submit pointers on those areas where improvement on my part can make that easier for you. I'll do my best to make this a work in progress that in the end might be something worthy of general approval. Because that'd be pretty awesome.

Additionally:

My apologies to those who've offered such kind reviews so far...for having obliterated them. I apparently don't know what the heck I'm doing. But I've learned at least how delete my entire story. So...ahem...I'll try not to do that again. But I do have copies of your reviews in my email so they didn't go to waste.

Thank you and my apologies again.

**********

Starfleet Headquarters

San Francisco, California

Just when he thought the universe had thrown him every curve ball it could…it seemed there was always something new and interesting coming right out of nowhere to blindside him.

Admiral Jonathan Archer could only sit and shake his head a little, staring at the orders in his hand, amazed at what he'd just read. You'd think after all these years, all the insanity he'd seen put forth as if it made any damned sense at all…Hell, nothing should faze him anymore. And yet…

"Harnes…" Archer glanced up at the shadowy figure across his desk. "If that is your real name…?"

The man in question only shrugged slightly, with perhaps the barest hint of a sneer at his lips. "Does it really matter?"

"Fine, Harnes then." No, it didn't really matter. "Have you ever heard the expression, 'I don't know whether to shit or go blind?'"

That at least got a mild reaction out of the man.

"It's an old southern saying. Something I picked up from a certain engineer. I'm sure you can guess who."

Archer stood up slowly to stalk around his desk and confront the man a bit more directly. Face to face. 'Up close and personal like', as the engineer in question might himself have said. Damned if some young Section 31 punk would have him cowering behind a desk.

"It's the kind of thing one might say when confronted with something like this. Something so completely outrageous that there's simply no reasonable response to it."

A longsuffering sigh issued from the young man, as if all the world's trouble had so unjustly descended upon him. For the love of…do they train these idiots to do that? Archer had to wonder. Harris had displayed the same annoying habit.

"Admiral, I think perhaps…"

"I think perhaps you should just return to your superiors and inform them I've decided they can all go jump in a lake. Or better yet, just tender your damned resignation, son."

Waving the offending PADD at the man, Archer carried on. "If they're insane enough to come up with something like this then I can't see that you have an especially bright future with them. I suggest you get out while you still can."

"Admiral Archer." A smirking smile now. Just a little prod to get the Admiral's temper up and out of the way. "I can assure you the events set in motion here haven't all been orchestrated by our organization. Sometimes one must simply…work with the tools available."

Archer's voice began at last to heat up a bit. "You're saying more than one super secret gang of busybodies are responsible for this crew manifest being the utter joke that it is?" Archer glared for a brief moment. "Well, I have to admit that seems more likely. I can't imagine even Section 31 could pull off something this grotesquely stupid all on their own."

The old man was clearly working himself into a proper meltdown. Finally. That at least was more in keeping with the profile he'd been given on the aging Starfleet officer. Agent Harnes had wondered at first if he'd somehow managed to contact the wrong Admiral Archer.

"I'm afraid that's more or less the case, Admiral. But we need her in place before things heat up with the Romulans…and that would be now. That is really all you need to know."

"I'll decide what I need to know here!" And now the inevitable shouting down, right on cue. As if the agent were just other subordinate whom Archer could abuse to make himself feel better. "I don't work for you, son, and I'm not on some 'need to know' basis! If this is the best you can offer me then you can take this manifest and shove it up sideways!"

Archer tossed to PADD to the carpet with disdainful flick of the wrist, stalking back to his side of the desk. Reaching for…the intercom? Well that was unexpected. Surely the old fool didn't intend to call security?

Agent Harnes spoke quickly. "I assume it's escaped your notice that T'Pril has requested your cooperation in this matter?"

Well, now. That brought the old fart up short.

"Or should I call her Elizabeth? Interesting that she adopted that name again when she applied to the academy. T'Pril Elizabeth Tucker." Harnes said. "Ever wonder what that suggested?"

As Archer stared, one hand frozen over the intercom, Agent Harnes took his leisure retrieving the fallen PADD at his feet.

"The personal note attached in the addendum. From her to you." Again the slight sneer, as he offered the PADD back to Archer. Only a slight sneer, of course. One doesn't poke even an old dog too much with the stick.

The Admiral took a moment to regard the PADD he'd only just discarded before accepting it once again. With obvious reluctance he keyed up the text to scroll down to the bottom. Harnes moved obliquely to the window.

"Take your time, Admiral. I think you'll find T'Pril understands exactly what she represents to the Vulcan people…and what her role is here."

Harnes waited without further comment. There was no point in provoking the grumpy old bastard any more than necessary. Perhaps he was a bit of a pain in the ass and prodding him a little proved entertaining but pushing him any further would surely drag this out longer and louder than he would prefer. And there really wasn't all that much room to play games here.

Eventually Archer dropped the PADD to his desk. As predicted, T'Pril's personal plea had knocked the wind right out of his sails.

Concede defeat, Archer. Grumble a bit until you've consoled yourself and then let's wrap the matter up before we have to suffer a full blown temper tantrum.

"You bastards."

And here we go…clockwork.

"After everything they've been through you pull their daughter into…whatever the hell this is?"

"No one's pulled T'Pril Tucker into anything, Admiral. She understands the situation we face and she's willing to do what is necessary."

"What's necessary…?"

"To win this war, Admiral."

"And what exactly is it she's expected to do? She just graduated from the academy yesterday. She's still an ensign and you have her tagged for…a command?!"

"Don't be dense, Archer. I think you understand very well how the Vulcans will react to this. Perhaps in the past she may have been some…illogical embarrassment to them. Something best forgotten. But today?"

Archer could only turn away, fists balled at tightly at his sides.

"Oh, they may not dare to say it out loud. But they're coming around to what T'Pau has been preaching all these years. The rumors have gotten around a bit, you know. The daughter of Charles Tucker, the hero who twice saved Vulcan from a devastating, pointless war? Of T'Pol, who recovered the Kir'shara from…Oh, hell Archer. I don't need to go over all that mystical destiny crap with you, of all people. For her to join Starfleet now? Fast tracked for a command position?"

"Haven't they done enough, damn it?!" Now Archer had whirled around to expend his final bit of rage. "Haven't they sacrificed and suffered enough? For you and the rest of the damned universe!"

Harnes spoke coldly. "Yes, they have. And now it's time for their daughter to do her part."

And just that quickly Archer slumped over, leaning on the edge of his desk with his eyes shut tight. "Damn it. What the hell more can you people want…"

"To win this war, Admiral. To secure humanity's place in the galaxy. Whatever you may think of us, our goals are the same as yours. You know as well as anyone that's what this has all been about. This war, against this threat, at this point in history. To bring together the coalition you've been working for all these years, with Earth right there at the table."

As Archer slumped under the weight of his burdens Harnes moved in, bringing his own weight down on him as well.

"The High Command knows damned well we'll push them out of the way in just a few more decades. In trade, technology…hell, diplomacy even."

Harnes looked down at the Admiral. "But it's not just the Vulcans, is it? The Andorians as well. They may call us their brothers but they can read a map. We've already edged out around them to explore systems they've been too busy snarling at the Vulcans to get around to. And the Tellarites? They were busy taking advantage of that very situation themselves when we came on the scene. And they haven't failed to notice how quickly we've caught up in the last fifty years."

At Archer's fleeting glance, Harnes could see his speech was having the effect he expected it would. Too easy.

"Shall I go on? Alpha Centauri? Orion? Nausicaa? What do they all think of those upstart humans? Take a look at recent history, Archer. From any perspective you care to. It's all the same. Where do they all see us in another fifty years? Another hundred?"

Towering over the aging Admiral now, he let the man slump back into his chair again before continuing. "We're too damned ambitious for our own good. We know it. And we offer no apologies for it. But don't think there isn't a political body anywhere out there that doesn't tremble at the prospect of a grand Terran Empire in the next couple hundred years."

Agent Harnes picked up the PADD that Archer had closed his eyes so tightly against. "Sign it, Archer. Without all of us together in this war…without a common victory against a common enemy…hell, they'd all be fools not to turncoat and join the Romulans in stomping us out before it's too damned late."

Harnes dropped the PADD to the desk with a sharp 'clack'. His turn to express some disdain. "And make no mistake, Admiral. The Romulans are just such an enemy. Every bit as ambitious as we are and still foolish enough to believe dominating the rest of the galaxy is a grand idea."

He moved to the door. If he was wrong about Archer, now would be the time for him to offer up another argument. Take another swing in this fight. But the admiral remained silent.

So Harnes stopped at the door. Never leave an opponent on the ground without a solid kick or two to make sure they stay down.

"You know how the Vulcans think, Archer. As long as they're around no one else has any excuse to be civilized. We can all murder one another like savages. Because we all know we can rely on the good old Vulcans to clean up the mess, make peace and keep order. That's how they've stayed on top all this time. Until we came along, anyway."

Archer at last raised his head wearily. Harnes knew he had him. Hook, line and sinker.

He shrugged. "It's up to you, Admiral. If you want Humanity to be just another savage lesser race…well, you don't have to do anything. But if you think we can do better…then you sign that order. Bring us all togetheron this. Because this war is the only way that's ever going to happen."

Agent Harnes left the room.

**********

As Agent Harnes entered the waiting vehicle and settled in with a weary sigh, Butler removed his earphone and pocketed it. He eyed Harnes for a moment before commenting.

"Well, Harnes, I gotta tell yah. That's the most craptastic bunch of crap I've ever heard crapped."

Harnes chuckled. "Well, Archer needed some crap. So he got some."

Butler groaned and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "And these are the people running the universe. No wonder I can't afford a house on Risa."

Harnes laughed at that. "We work with the tools available, Butler. What are you going to do?"

"Does that old fossil really think the Vulcans are all out to get us? I mean, they're practically castrating themselves to convince us to do this."

"The old man's got this…thing about Vulcans. So yeah. He really does think they'll sit on their hands while the Rommies tear ass across the galaxy." The young agent shook his head sadly.

"Well I can't say we're any smarter. How the hell we're going to pull this one off, I can't tell you."

Harnes could only grunt in agreement. He leaned back, rubbing the tension from his own eyes as the unseen driver steered the cruiser into the night.

Butler wasn't finished, though. "We have to get a wet behind the ears Vulcan half-breed in command of a ship. While dealing with the Andorian agent on board watching her every move…that we have to politely pretend not to notice, of course."

"Yeah."

"With nothing but a clueless flight officer…who doesn't even know she's working for us yet…and, I might add, who happens to be dying of one of the most debilitating illnesses I've ever heard of…and shouldn't even be in Starfleet to begin with…"

"Yeah. You're killing me here, Butler."

"A worn out NX class ship, of course. With half the crew dead or retiring and nothing but a bunch of ensigns to replace them all with. Including the aforementioned half-breed…and our soon to be agent, if she doesn't die first…without pissing off the whole human race at the glaring ineptitude of Starfleet in the process of all this."

"Yeah, yeah. Enough already. Why don't you just go ahead and shoot me?"

"Hell, maybe the Rommies should just tear ass over the galaxy. They can't be this stupid. Maybe I can get that house on Risa under their administration."

"I take it back. Because now I have to shoot you instead, traitor."

"Hey, I'm just saying. If we manage to pull this one off I might have to start believing all that crap myself. Because obviously we really do kick everybody's ass."

"You work with the tools available, Butler. I keep telling you."

"Yeah. And then you bury them. The other thing you keep telling me."

Harnes sighed. "Because they're freakin' embarrassing."