A/N: Sorry it's taken so long to update this one.
The captain and first officer stared at each other in wonder and shock. Navaar was gone – almost as if she was transported away.
"Archer to Corporal Fields," Archer said. His thumb jammed against the button.
It was then T'Pol saw something in her peripheral vision: a sensor flashing alerting her to information she should've noticed before.
I have become distracted.
Focusing her attention on the board in front of her, she nudged a few buttons and then turned to stare into her scanner. There was a ship: an Andorian cargo vessel, and it was hailing them.
Just as she opened her mouth to relay the message, Reed gave the report.
"Sir, a vessel is located on our port bow."
Stunned and a little angry, he wheeled around. "Why didn't we notice it in our long-range sensors?"
Reed stared at T'Pol, and the Vulcan was about to answer, when she discovered more bad news to deliver.
"We're being hailed by an Andorian cargo vessel."
Archer, sighing loudly and wiping sweat off his brow, gave a nod as the Vulcan walked over to Hoshi's station to put it on the view screen. A blue man with white hair and wiggling antennae gave a toothy smile.
"Pink skin! You're looking more pink than usual."
"Shran! What the hell …!"
"I have her."
"What!"
T'Pol's eyebrow poked up. "Navaar?"
"Yes, Vulcan, I have her," Shran said.
"Give her back to us," Archer said.
"We should speak alone," Shran said. His eyes went directly to T'Pol and she flattened her brow with annoyance.
"I said, give her back."
The Andorian's antennae wiggled and a smile lighted his face. "I know you're sweet on her, but --"
Archer rolled his eyes. "We're investigating --"
"I know what you're investigating. I need to talk with you alone. You're about to open a kerak of targas."
Archer took two deep breaths, shot his gaze at T'Pol and then nodded with some hesitation. She knew the sign – it meant transfer the signal to his Ready Room. As soon as the door closed and the light at her station flickered off, meaning he was likely sitting at his desk talking to the blue man, she heard a loud curse. Scanning the room, she gathered no one else heard it.
Under normal circumstances, she would've let it go and refocused back on her job. This time, she nonchalantly stood and walked over to the Ready Room door hoping to catch more of the conversation. Although it was difficult to discern, she could hear Archer's end of the conversation.
Strolling the Bridge, so as not to arouse suspicion, she keened in on the captain's voice.
"You're shitting me." Archer said.
Silence rang out.
"Damn. I had no idea."
More silence.
"Jesus. You're not kidding, are you?"
His chair creaked as if he leaned forward. She could barely hear a request from Shran.
"No, I won't," Archer said.
Shran said something else and the captain smashed his hand against his desk.
"Fine. I'll do it."
Shran's voice raised and the words "you better" were the only ones she heard.
"I will."
The same words were repeated and she could hear Archer's boots clap against the deck plating as if he were pacing.
"I said, I will!"
Shran said something else, which caused his pacing to come to an abrupt halt.
"Shran! I will! I don't like it, but I'll do it. Don't think we have much of a choice."
Shran's voice was too low to determine exactly what he conveyed.
"I know that's what you said."
He sat back down at whatever Shran had to say.
"Yeah, we're going to recycle the air."
Another low question to the captain.
"Yeah, three days."
She heard the timbre of Shran's voice; it sounded like bragging and Archer sighed at the words.
"How convenient for Andorians."
The Andorian said something else and she heard Archer's chair squeak as if he leaned back in it.
"Doesn't matter about T'Pol."
Shran whispered something harshly, which is the only reason she could hear him say it. The words were difficult to determine, but she thought she heard something about how she would tell the Vulcan High Command.
"No, that doesn't mean she is. Listen, are you going to help us?"
Silence.
"Shran, are you gonna help us!"
His chair creaked again, as if he suddenly leaned forward and his fist slammed against the desk.
"You're not going to help us?"
An excuse was probably coming from Shran's lips.
"Gee, thanks."
More excuses came.
"Fine."
A small ribbing, which T'Pol could only tell because of the volume at which Archer sighed.
"Okay."
She heard his thumb jab the button to his computer, his chair creak as if he was standing up and then his boots clap the tinny floor. Strolling back to her station, she sat down quietly as he entered the Bridge – pretending as if she'd been there all along. Reed and Mayweather, who'd been following her with their eyes, didn't seem to really mind or notice the ruse.
Archer sat in his chair and crossed his legs. "T'Pol, I'd like to continue with the plan to get our people on the planet. One small change, Shran is going to give us some assistance."
"Oh?" she asked.
"Apparently," he said, exhaling, "Andorians aren't affected by Orion pheromones."
"He kidnapped Navaar," she said.
Archer shook his head. "Not exactly. We won't worry about that for right now. Our priority is recycling the air."
"I see," T'Pol said.
Even as he mentioned they wouldn't worry about her, she noticed the man licked his lips.
Leaning over to the intercom, she contacted Hoshi to let her know about the plans. Just as she did, she overheard the captain say a few words from his chair into the intercom, low so that no one would hear.
"Doc, you can stop trying to find out who the father is."
Phlox voice sounded sleepy. "Oh? You know who it is?"
Archer rested his arm against the chair and closed in on the comm. "Yes. It's me."
T'Pol's eyes fled over to the captain.
TBC