Archer looked around at his officers assembled in the command center. As always, he started waiting for T'Pol until he remembered she wasn't there because she was on the Vulcan starship. Everyone that needed to be present was accounted for, including Phlox. He had asked the doctor to attend, a rare occurrence.

He took in the taut faces of his senior officers. In the three days since T'Pol had left they had met twice with the Vulcans and the Andorians, without anything worthwhile to report. This would be a much needed boost. Progress at long last. So long as one looked at the glass as half full. And they needed a half-full glass.

He launched directly into the reason for the meeting. There was no reason to keep the latest developments from them. "I just came back from meeting with Commander Kyres and Captain Soljark. The terrorists have agreed to an exchange." He saw the hope in Hoshi's face, the rounding of her mouth as she almost said 'oh' while Travis and Reed suddenly looked up at him with interest. Trip was the only holdout, still staring at the center command table. Archer knew he was counting the hours until T'Pol was safely back on board, and he couldn't blame him. Stuck in stationary orbit around the planet, there was very little for an engineer to do. Still, he needed him to at least seem like he was paying attention, for morale and also for discipline. "You have something to say, Commander Tucker?'

Trip's head snapped up and he looked around in surprise, then realized he had blatantly not been paying attention. "Uh, hostages sir?"

"Yes, Trip, of the hostages."

Trip inwardly sighed with relief. It didn't take a genius to know that given the situation chances were that it had to do with the hostages. He forced himself to focus on what Jonathan was saying.

"As I was saying," Archer started again with a pointed look at Trip "the terrorists have agreed to an exchange. They will let the children go in exchange for an equivalent number of adult Vulcans." Trip stared at Jonathan, thinking that this must be straight from the Vulcans. 'Equivalent number' was not the way Jonathan usually spoke.

"We have been asked to facilitate the exchange" Archer went on.

That roused Trip from his stupor "What do you mean, 'facilitate the exchange'?" he asked "Like we take names and make sure the count is right?" His question was met with nods from around the table. Diplomatic double-speak lacked in military precision. Archer had to admit they were right. He himself had asked the Admiral what exactly they were supposed to do.

"We've been thrust in the role of monitors" Archer explained "What it means is that we are going to go down to the planet and bring twenty-seven Vulcan children back on board." He looked at Phlox "That's why you're here, doctor."

"Only twenty-seven?" that was Hoshi. Archer looked at her kindly. "Twenty-seven out of over two hundred hostages, on a semi-military station out in deep space. That's quite a few." He actually would have expected the number to be closer to zero. "Even though by their standards Vulcans are children until they're well in their thirties, the terrorists used twenty as the cut-off. That means there still are children being held hostage down below, at least theoretically. But that was the best we could do."

He knew that the concession had come after hour upon hour of tense and sharp negotiations, between Vulcan, the terrorists, Andoria and the Federation. The terrorists had become aware that their actions with the six-year old boy had not ingratiated anyone to their cause, and had wisely decided to jettison potential reputational threats. The rest was simply convincing them not to outright get rid of the children by killing them, but to leverage their presence into gaining even more hostages. After that, it was a matter of settling on a 'price', which in that case had been one for one.

Outwardly, the terrorists gained in the exchange, going from twenty-seven useless hostages to twenty-seven meaningful ones. Though it was an optical illusion. The twenty-seven Vulcan meaningful hostages would not be civilians but trained crew from the Vulcan ships. The terrorists may be biting off more than they could chew.

"Why are we bringing the children back on board to Enterprise? Why not take them directly to the Vulcan ships?" Trip asked. If they went to the Vulcan ship, he could always find some angle about why he needed to accompany them there, and perhaps catch a sight of T'Pol.

"Captain Soljark asked us to keep the children on board Enterprise. Dr. Phlox will provide the first level of care and let us know if a Vulcan healer is needed. He didn't say much" Reed snorted and Archer shot him a quick glance "but the gist was that he sees Enterprise as neutral ground, whereas there is a possibility the Vulcan ships will become engaged in hostilities." Another possibility that Archer didn't care to voice openly was that the kids would be out of the way of whatever it was Soljark and the Vulcans had planned. He and Reed knew the excuse didn't hold under close scrutiny. If four of the ships had been sent with the express purpose of bringing back the hostages, wouldn't it make sense to have the kids sent to one of those ships as soon as they got out?

"Logistically," Archer went on "we're sending a team down to the surface before the Vulcans arrive, to make sure everything is above board. The Vulcan shuttles with the adult exchanges will land next. The terrorists will release the children only after Starfleet has confirmed that the adults have arrived. And they will only release the children to Starfleet."

Archer cleared his throat. "We will be doing the exchange. We are the ones who will be delivering the Vulcan adults to the terrorists." Sometimes, being the neutral party simply sucked. He didn't need to say how distasteful that second part was, and would be. The leader of the terrorists had worked it out so that Starfleet itself, and through it the Federation, would be delivering the hostages into his hands. The symbolism was not lost on the admirals or the Federation. But getting the children out was worth any number of sacrifices.

"Lieutenant Reed," Archer went on "I'll need you to figure out tactical – who's going to be receiving the kids and handing away the adults. We can only fit so many people in a Federation shuttle, and we need to bring the kids back. You'll also have to take Dr. Phlox and medical personnel on board." Phlox was nodding energetically, his usual smile gone.

"Should I plan for a surprise?" Reed asked.

Archer looked at him silently for several long seconds "I believe the Vulcans are above board on this one, they will do the exchange. Remember that if they don't, the terrorists still have two hundred hostages."

Reed nodded, lips thinned. He would have preferred any other mission, but when one was Chief Tactical Officer board Enterprise, one didn't get to choose.

"Ensign Mayweather," Archer turned to Travis "you will be the head pilot on this one. Work with Lieutenant Reed and figure out piloting needs down and back. There won't be any back-ups. Whoever is selected must be able to fly no matter what the conditions are on the surface. There won't be a do-over." The 'conditions on the surface' being a euphemism for enemy fire. From either side. The Federation-class shuttles were much bigger than the shuttlepods and shuttlecrafts that Travis had been flying during the Enterprises first missions. They could hold several people standing up, but as a result they were bulkier and less easily maneuverable. If anything went wrong on the planet, Travis would be having a very bad day.

"Ensign Sato, I'll need you to go down there with Dr. Phlox. Someone is going to have to make these kids feel at home, speak their language. Pick whoever you want from Science to go with you." He didn't need to add that T'Pol would have been a first choice for that role.

"Anything for me, Captain?" Trip asked. Archer sighed. He wished there was something to keep the Chief Engineer's mind, and heart, at bay. Inspiration came on the fly "You and I are staying on the ship, I can't leave it without senior officers. I need you to work on the sensors, multiply their focus, do whatever you need to do, but I want to be able to track the terrorists, the children and the Vulcans, all at the same time. We're going to need more people." Archer thought that would marry the engineer's love of the camera with his technical skills.

"Also, Trip," he added before disbanding the meeting "instead of the continuous 24-hour loop for records, see about switching to a 24-hour continuous feed. I know that's going to be mountains of useless material, but I have a feeling we're going to be glad we did some day."

"Aye sir."

"Everyone, you have your orders. Reed, let me know as soon as you have a plan. I haven't heard about the precise timing of the exchange yet, but odds are that it will be pretty soon."

xx

T'Pol looked up and met Sverig's gaze. The accuracy of their logical reasoning had been confirmed. They were going down on the planet.

On the dais, Captain T'Kullyl continued the emergency assembly that had been convened shortly after the interruption of life support systems that tolled yet another execution. The fourth one since she had left Enterprise. There would be others, how many they didn't know, but she would most likely be down on the planet for the next one. Along with Sverig and twenty-five other operatives, including some of the most seasoned ones.

T'Kullyl had gone over the plan in chilling detail. She called on the main computer for an image and the back wall turned into a room-dominating screen showing in elaborate detail the blueprints of the operations complex and the armory on Sterth Vega III, barring any undocumented changes that may have taken place during construction.

One hundred and twenty-six pairs of eyes would study every detail of the images that were also showing on individual screens in the center of each standing table. Twenty-seven of them would learn the blueprints as if they themselves had drawn them. The blueprints and a number of other importantly vital elements of the master plan. There was no telling who would be chosen, and they all had to have the exact same clarity of purpose and action. The twenty-seven would know no rest or meditation periods until they were on the ground. There would be ample time for both then. Or it wouldn't matter.