With the captain secure in our hands, there's really no point in Major Hayes continuing to hold out against us. We retake command of the ship and the MACOs are stood down and relieved of duty while Captain Archer is delivered to Sickbay, where Phlox straps his inert body onto the table that will take it into the imaging chamber. Being of little further use there, I retire to the Bridge. It's understandable that his XO and Chief Engineer want to be on the scene when the results are delivered but I'm uneasily conscious that we're still deep in enemy territory – heading deeper into it with every second, now T'Pol has ordered we resume course to Azati Prime – and I'll continue to hold the chair until relieved.

It's a worrying wait, though, on more than one score. We may have concluded from the captain's increasingly erratic behaviour that he'd been influenced by some 'chemical cocktail' that the eggs squirted at him (and which nobody saw fit to mention to me AT THE TIME or I might have put two and two together a hell of a lot faster, but hell, don't mind me, I'm just the ship's security officer; and as long as we get there eventually I suppose…), but Phlox couldn't verify that until he'd been able to get him into the imaging chamber. And now that he's in there, with any luck they'll find out how this stuff was able to get control of him and – more importantly still – how to counteract its effects. Because one doesn't necessarily imply the other, even with a genius like Phlox. And if he can't work the miracle we're stuck with a CO fixated on baby Insectoids for the rest of the mission.

I daresay we'd manage. Somehow. But the circumstances are dire enough without having your captain taken out of the equation because he's as barmy as a bandicoot. The whole crew looks up to him, we depend on him. I don't even want to think about what would happen if we can't get him out of this.

I've never been much for Biblical quotations but the words 'A house divided against itself cannot stand' keep creeping through my mind. Hayes is on Captain Archer's side, end of. If we have to confine the captain it's Hayes' duty to try to rescue him. We'd have MACOs versus Starfleet, neither side able to trust the other, fighting each other while we're trying to deal with the exponentially bigger threat of the Xindi. It's that sort of flaw that breaks armies when the pressure comes on. We need to be united. We need to be strong.

As for the act of mutiny – the crime of munity – well, in spite of my Reed heritage that says my ancestors should be spinning in their coffins, my heart is strangely at peace on that score. Whatever may be wrong with the captain at this present moment, he's imbued us all with the passion that's driven us since we set out from Earth: stop the weapon. And if the cost is my career, well, so be it. We weren't going to be stopping anything, obsessing over those baby Insectoids till their grown-up friends and relatives turned up to exact revenge for something we actually didn't do. Desperate actions were required, and we took them. Only history (if the mission succeeds well enough for us to actually have any history) will judge whether we were justified or not.

An hour creeps past, and then another. It's almost the end of my shift but I don't want to stand down; I couldn't eat, and I sure as hell couldn't sleep.

In the middle of the tense silence, the comm chirps. "T'Pol to Lieutenant Reed."

"Reed."

"Please bring Major Hayes to Sickbay, Lieutenant. T'Pol out."

From her calm voice there's no saying what the news is, but surely there's got to be something they need to show him?

Just to be on the safe side, I arrange for Ensign Walsh to accompany us, with a phase pistol that can be used if necessary. To be fair, I don't think it will be – however determined and resourceful Hayes is, he's also a realist – but I see no point in taking chances.

The ensign stops and waits outside Sickbay while the two of us walk in.

T'Pol, Trip and Phlox are looking at something on a view screen.

Of course, Hayes looks around for the captain. "Where is he?"

"In his quarters, resting," Phlox replies amiably. "Do you recall when the Captain was attacked by one of the eggs?"

"It sprayed something in his face."

Phlox continues, gesturing at the display screen. "I thought it was a defence reflex, but it was actually something far more sophisticated. The substance contained a unique neurochemical. It infiltrated the Captain's synaptic pathways, causing him to reverse imprint on the baby Insectoids. It's the opposite of what happens when a young animal bonds with its mother."

Hayes gives him the disbelieving expression (not surprisingly, to be honest). "Are you saying he thought he was the mother of those things?"

"Well, more likely a caretaker. Of course, the Captain didn't realise this on a conscious level. Eventually he became obsessed with protecting the eggs to the exclusion of everything else."

"Including our mission," says T'Pol dryly.

The major stares at the screen, clearly evaluating the situation. "I'd like to speak with him, if you don't mind."

"He'll be awake in a few hours. He should be fully recovered by then," Phlox says cheerfully.

T'Pol then turns to the major herself. "I want you and your men to return to duty."

She's the officer in charge now and he knows it. Whatever his doubts, he'll set them aside until he can speak to the captain. And if the captain has been released to his quarters to rest, it's because Phlox has administered an antidote and the situation has now been resolved. "Yes, ma'am."

Satisfied that there's nothing more for either of them to do, T'Pol and Trip leave Sickbay; at a guess she'll be going up to take charge on the Bridge, and personally I'm more than relieved to be able to hand over command.

Hayes lingers for a few moments, still staring at the display screen. Finally, "Not the sort of thing they trained us for at West Point." It's as close as he's going to come to – if not an apology – an admission.

"I imagine not."

He turns to me then, his expression hard to decipher. "You could have come to me, explained the situation."

Oddly enough, I feel a little sympathetic. Well, more sympathetic than I usually do to him, and I daresay it won't last – certainly not past his next venture into rearranging the ship's training schedules. And, having won, I can afford magnanimity. "We couldn't take the chance that you'd side with the Captain."

This is where he could try bullshitting me, but once again he surprises me. "I probably would have."

"Yes."

There's nothing much more for me to say, and most likely I'm not his favourite person aboard Enterprise at the best of times and certainly not now. But almost before I realise I'm going to do it, I turn back at the door and glance at him. "Would you care for a coffee, Major? We could talk a little more about those simulations you were experimenting with."

He blinks in surprise, and then a faint, hesitant smile creeps over his face. "I'd be happy to, Lieutenant."

Peace? I doubt it. A truce? Maybe. Permanent? Ask me next time he utters the words 'I don't think that's how the captain would see it'. But out here we're all we've got. And if we're going to succeed against the Xindi, the house cannot be divided.

There's a whole world behind us who are depending on it.

THE END.