Chapter Six

Six days later


Phlox had informed Doctor Zeller during their usual midnight game that Captain Archer wanted to speak with her. They were only three days away from the science station in the Ohniaka system and her patients. She had received a subspace message two days earlier telling her that five researchers and one member of the station's command personnel had died of the disease. The situation was growing more desperate by the day, and Astrid Zeller was their only hope. Knowing that filled her with pride, of course, but she wondered why the captain wished to see her. Since greeting her when she came aboard, he not made any attempt to contact her, leaving her to her own devices for the better part of eleven days. Was it something to do with her mission or rather something to do with her personally? With the except of a few polite junior officers, the crew mostly let her be or actively avoided her. She had to wonder as she boarded the lift that morning to visit Archer in his ready room.

The captain was sitting in his ready room, reading the last report on the efficiency of the warp engine from Commander Tucker, when the sound of someone at the door interrupted his train of thought. Rumors and gossip concerning Doctor Zeller had reached his ears, which was something of a rare occurrence. It was unusual for anything of that nature to come to the attention of the captain. The crew, whenever there was something to talk about, usually made their best effort to keep it among themselves and off the radar screen of their commanding officer. A few of them actually seemed to pride themselves in doing so, especially concerning ship board romances, a few of which Archer secretly believed were beginning to bloom. But rumors suggesting the Doctor Zeller was both xenophobic and paranoid were apparently running rampant, and they were beginning to bother him. The straw that broke the camels back came when T'Pol asked him why the crew seemed more solicitous toward her than usual. Archer decided that the best way to find out if he had cause to be truly concerned was to have a conversation with Astrid Zeller himself.

"Come in." Archer called when the door beeped. For a moment he thought about laying the data pad aside, but he didn't want her to be the center of his attention. At least not right away.

Before Doctor Zeller stepped into the room, he had anticipated that she would be in uniform. She was an officer, after all, and could probably have been considered on-duty. Her rank, he had learned through careful investigation, was that of a lieutenant commander. She had not been promoted in sometime, but he suspected that the rank meant nothing to her as a doctor and scientist. It rankled ever-so-slightly when she walked into his officer in a conservative blue-gray dress that hung nearly to the floor. Astrid looked more like someone's parsimonious maiden aunt coming for a visit from the country than a Star Fleet officer.

"I was told that you wanted to see me, captain." she said easily, taking a seat before he had the opportunity to invite her to do so. Zeller glanced around his ready room with a measured gaze as though trying to decide whether she approved of it.

"I have been meaning to have this meeting for a few days now." Archer prefaced. "But up until now I've had the luxury of avoiding it. You see, I've been hearing some ... things about you from the crew." he explained.

"It's all true." she interjected with a slight smirk. "Whatever you've heard, it's probably all true."

"Well, be that as it may, I still want to hear it from the horse's mouth, doctor." said Archer, smiling to hide his irritation.

"How about telling me just exactly what you've heard, and I will confirm or deny it?" she suggestion, leaning forward in her seat. To all appearances, she was enjoying herself.

"Look, I really don't care about the anti-alien views that you ascribe too, but this is beginning to interfere with my crew and their performance. Having ..." he said, not bothering to mince words, "someone who so unabashedly advocates xenophobia onboard is becoming stressful for many of them, especially those who have grandparents or great grandparents that remember the post atomic horrors and all that."

"Thank you for spelling that out for me, captain, but I am not advocating violence." she said, wrinkling her nose at the idea that he identified her with barbarism, especially barbarism carried out between members of the human race.

"But you do see my point, doctor?"

"Yes, I suppose I do. You want to maintain order on your ship and perceive me as a threat." she told him.

"Not at all." chuckled Archer. "You are not a threat. You are an inconvenience." he said, correcting her.

"Does this mean that you are confining me to quarters for the last three days during which I will be ... inconvenient?" she inquired.

"Not at all, doctor. I'm not even telling you not to talk to my crew. You see, doctor, if I did that, if I isolated or punished you for your opinions and beliefs, then I would become just a little like you. After all, prejudice is prejudice. You have a right to your beliefs, especially since they are only hurting you. I just want you to understand the effect your having." said Archer.

"Are you finished? Do you feel superior now? Enlightened maybe? In any case, captain, eventually some of these aliens that you are so eager to defend will be our undoing, and just as likely will we be theirs, and you will remember me perhaps a bit more kindly or at least you will come to know that I was right." she told him.

"Doctor Zeller, when I signed up to come out here, it occurred to be on more than one occasion that we, that humanity, might find enemies out here as well as friends, but nevertheless I chose to go boldly where no man has gone before. I thought the risk was worth it. I still do, doctor."

"And this conversation? What do you think you will gain from it, captain? I hope you weren't hoping to change me or seriously challenge my ideals. You have done neither." Doctor Zeller told him in acid tones.

"I don't know exactly what I was hoping for, but I have one last question for you, doctor?"

"Go ahead."

"How on earth have you made it so far in Star Fleet, to the point of being requested for missions, with your views?" questioned Archer.

Astrid's lip curled when she answered, "Through determination, expertise, and knowing the right people, captain."

Captain Archer knew that she was referring to the admirals that had insisted on a human doctor for their current assignment. The only question left unanswered was which came first, Astrid or the increase in xenophobic tendencies? Secretly, he was reasonably certain that it was Astrid.

"I don't doubt it." muttered Archer. He nodded toward the door and told her, "You're dismissed."

She rose gracefully from the chair and smiled as she said, "I hope nothing I've said will keep you up at night, captain."

Archer wasn't sure who had won the argument, but he certainly didn't feel victorious. But then, he wasn't certain that their argument was one with clearly defined winners and losers. His heart told him that he was right, and yet he had to acknowledge that Doctor Zeller's probably told her the same thing. The uncertainty resided in the fact that there was no way to prove to Astrid that humans and aliens could and were meant to exist together.

"But we have learned to live together, after all." he mused, thinking of both humanity and his crew.


Sometimes Doctor Zeller was forced to give credit where credit was due. Captain Archer was a far more rational opponent in an argument than many of his peers at Star Fleet and his subordinates aboard the Enterprise. Archer was more passionate as well, an increasingly rare characteristic in a man of his years. After so many years of service, the initial passion found in almost every cadet and ensign had dwindled or died. Astrid found great relief in that fact, and it disturbed her profoundly that the captain seemed to retain his youthful idealism well into middle age.

"A generation of Captain Archers ... and my ideas will be extinct." she muttered as the lift began taking her back in the direction of sickbay where she presumed her cargo containers would be waiting. She had instructed Phlox to have them moved to sickbay in anticipation of the ship's arrival at the science station.

Two crewmen who looked a little bit like security personnel were just beginning to carry the metallic crates into sickbay when she arrived. She squeezed by them as they carried one crate through the doors. Phlox was looking mildly exasperated as he tried to make room for her medical supplies in the small sickbay.

"I'll take care of unpacking those." she told him as he began to break the seal of one of the crates.

"You have what I believe they call trust issues, Astrid." he remarked.

"I packed the boxes myself, Phlox, so it would be more efficient if I unpacked them too." she told him, putting her hands on her hips.

"I see." the doctor nodded as he held up his hands and stepped away from her crates, feeling that she was being unreasonably possessive about her cargo.

"Really, Phlox, I'm not trying to say anything about you or your medical qualifications. I think I've enough argument for one morning. Just suffice it to say that I would rather do some things myself." she said with a sigh.

"Did Captain Archer prove to be ... more imposing than you might have previously believed him to be?" questioned Phlox with a rather satisfied smile.

"I suppose that is one way of putting it, but I generally prefer the term challenging." agreed Zeller.

"Of course." he acknowledged. As Doctor Zeller began to open the first of her containers, Phlox asked her, "You do realize that space is limited, right, Astrid?"

"The thought has not left my mind in days." she assured him.

"Just as long as you know."

"Phlox, how about going for a walk while I do this? I'll mind the shop while you're gone." she said, frowning severely at him.

"Your wish is my command." he muttered, tottering out of sickbay with the understanding that she didn't want him underfoot while she did her unpacking.

For her part, Astrid was surprised that he left willingly and without complaint. She could have used some help with her chore, but she knew that if she wanted the job done right, she would indeed have to do it herself.

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Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and/or emailing!