Redemption

Chapter 13

He was led into the courtroom by two guards, his hands restrained behind his back with handcuffs. The room was brimming over with spectators — all who'd come to watch the fall of the Earth captain and witness the final verdict. He sensed a thousand eyes boring into him.

He walked down the aisle and saw T'Pol, Hoshi, Phlox, Trip, Malcolm and Travis sitting faithfully on the defence side, as they'd done for the length of the trial. T'Pol looked drawn and pale — she'd been working tirelessly on his defence, even though he'd told her it was fruitless.

He was ushered into position at the front next to his legal counsel. He was uncuffed and instructed to sit down.

"There will be a delay in the final verdict as the prosecution wishes to call another witness to the stand," announced one of the clerks.

Jonathan wondered who it could be. In the end, it wasn't as if made any difference — his fate was already sealed. He knew they'd render the judgement of guilty.

"The prosecution calls Henry Archer to the stand."

What! His head jerked around to see his father walking down the aisle, past him and then up to the stand. It was impossible…yet his eyes didn't deceive him. Henry repeated the Illyrian oath to speak only the truth and then sat down.

Questions were fired at him — what was his involvement in the warp 5 project, what had been his purpose and motivation in creating his engine? He answered the sole purpose of his engine was for humans to explore the galaxy. He was asked if he'd have sanctioned it's use in a war. Henry's answer was simple — no. Next he was requested to identify the defendant.

"That's Jonathan Archer," Henry replied.

"Is he your son?" the lawyer questioned.

"He and I share DNA, but do I consider him my son? The answer to that question is no. My son would not have committed the crimes this trial accuses this man of."

Jonathan could feel tears pricking his eyes. This was worse than any punishment the Illyrians could inflict on him.

"Are you in effect disowning this man, Mr Archer?" The lawyer seemed to want to drive the point home.

"My son was an explorer — not a thief or criminal. I don't know the man sitting over there."

"Thank you, Mr Archer. You may step down." Henry Archer got up, and walked past his son.

"Dad," Jonathan called out to him, standing up. Henry stopped and glared at him. "If you'd just let me explain."

Henry's eyes turned to ice. "Don't call me dad, I don't have a son."

Jonathan watched him leave the courtroom and felt a stabbing pain in his chest. He'd failed his father, and would never have the chance to explain.

"Sit down," his counsel advised. He did as he was told, and awaited his fate. The jury stood and one of its members read out their verdict.

"For the charge of stealing a warp coil from an Illyrian ship, attacking and disabling it, we find the defendant, Captain Jonathan Archer, guilty." The jury member continued, "For the charge of involuntarily manslaughter to the Illyrian crew we find the defendant, guilty."

During the course of the trial Jonathan had learnt the fate of the Illyrian crew he'd stolen the warp coil from. They had been attacked by pirates — being defenseless they hadn't been able to ward them off. Most of the crew had been killed.

The judge thanked the jury for their verdict and delivered the punishment. "Captain Archer, please stand."

He did as requested.

"The jury has found you guilty of the crimes you were accused of. You are sentenced to life imprisonment on the Illyrian homeworld. Being an off-worlder, you will have no chance of appeal."

Jonathan was not surprised. He'd been prepared for this verdict from the very first day of this trial.

"However, in reviewing this case I feel there has been an oversight. Captain Archer didn't act alone in his deeds. His crew are sentient beings who could have refused his orders. Therefore, I feel it is my duty to charge all involved with the raid on the Illyrian vessel. I'm ordering the arrest of Commander Tucker, Lieutenant Reed and the Vulcan T'Pol. They will all stand trial."

"Nooo!" Jonathan yelled.

"Be quiet!" the judge ordered, "or you'll spend your first month's imprisonment in solitary confinement."

"They're innocent — it was all my idea. You can't do this! We had a deal. They were to be granted immunity."

"We don't make deals, Captain. This is not your Earth-style justice system."

"But they're innocent," he repeated, his cry falling on deaf ears. He turned around and saw the guards take away Trip, Malcolm and T'Pol. T'Pol's eyes locked with his for a brief moment— they were warm and kind, as if she wanted him to know she forgave him and it wasn't his fault.

"They're innocent," he cried. "It's not their fault…"

"It's not their fault!"

"Jonathan!" Rebecca shook him violently. "Jonathan, wake up!"

His eyes flew open and he saw Rebecca sitting across from him on his bed.

"I heard you shouting, I rushed in here and you were tossing and turning, repeating something about them being innocent," she explained.

"Oh god," he gasped, trying to catch his breath. "It was only a dream. It was so real." He sat up.

Rebecca leaned over and turned on his bedside lamp. Jonathan's hair was damp and his chest was covered in a film of sweat. "It's okay," she said, stroking his cheek. "I'll get you a glass of water."

"Thanks."

She returned with the water and he gulped it down. "What time is it?"

"A little after 5am."

"Sorry I woke you up."

"It's okay, don't worry about it. That must have been some dream."

"It wasn't. It was a nightmare. My father was there. He told me he disowned me, that he didn't have a son anymore."

"Jon, it's your subconscious playing tricks on you."

"What do you mean?" He looked puzzled.

"Well it figures you'd dream about your father after you were talking about him earlier."

"I was?"

"You don't remember our conversation before you went to bed?"

He tried to remember talking to Rebecca. He vaguely recalled downing several drinks at some bar, then walking back to the villa. Yeah, then he'd come back and had coffee.

"My memory's kinda messed up. I remember having coffee, but I'm a bit foggy on what I said." He hoped he hadn't divulged anything classified.

"We can talk about it later in the morning. You should try and get back to sleep."

"Rebecca, what did I say?" he asked, fear in his voice.

She smiled. "Don't worry. You talked a bit about your father, how hard it was in the Expanse, but you were extremely vague."

"Oh…okay."

"Now try and get some rest."

"No thanks. I'm getting up."

"Jon, you didn't get to sleep till almost 3am. You've had around two hours sleep."

"I don't care. I'm not going back to sleep." If there was any chance of dreaming the same dream or it continuing…well he wasn't taking it.

"Fair enough, I won't argue with you. I'm gonna go back to bed, unless you need me to talk?"

"Nah, I'll be okay. I might watch a movie or something."

"All right, Jon. I'll see you later." She kissed his cheek, and left his room.

He pulled back the sheets and climbed out of bed. First order of the day was to have a shower. As his feet touched the floor, he felt a little giddy — probably an after effect of his drinking bout earlier.

He stepped into the shower and turned the hot water on, letting the spray pummel his body. It was refreshing and soon he felt awake. God, what a nightmare! His guilty conscience mixed with alcohol was a lethal combination. They were pretty imaginative too. It had felt so real…especially his father. He couldn't erase the image of his father standing there saying he didn't have a son.

He was relieved he hadn't been overly open with Rebecca. Bits of their conversation were starting to come back to him. At least he hadn't mentioned the Illyrians or been specific about anything. Still he shouldn't have said anything in the first place. Well that would teach him that getting drunk wasn't a solution to anything. It was time to start acting like an adult.

He got dressed and as he strapped his wrist watch on he wondered what time it was in San Francisco. Rebecca had said there was a five hour time difference, so he estimated it was just after 10am there.

He decided to call T'Pol. After that dream he yearned to see her face, just to make sure she was doing okay. Truth be told he missed her, but he'd make it look casual, as if he was checking in on Porthos.

He walked into the living room and tapped in a few keys on the computer screen. He waited while it connected to the viewscreen in his apartment. T'Pol answered promptly.

"Jonathan!" She sounded surprised to hear from him. Was she pleased?

"I thought I'd just check in on things. Is everything going okay?"

"Are you well?" she asked.

Guess I look like crap, he thought. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just had trouble sleeping last night."

"I see." Why didn't she just say I told you so, I knew the vacation wouldn't help.

"So how's Porthos?" He wanted to sound casual and non-chalant, but felt nervous.

"All is well here. I've been walking Porthos every day and talking to him, just as you requested."

"That's good." He racked his brain trying to think up something to say. "How's the weather?" After saying that he thought what a dumb question!

"It's been warm and sunny the last few days," T'Pol answered.

"Great. The weather's been good here too. Nice and warm."

"I'm pleased."

"Anything else going on I should be aware of?" he asked, sensing the conversation was going to stall at any moment.

"Commander Tucker called here the morning you left."

"Trip? What did he want?"

"He wasn't specific, just said he wanted to talk to you and that he would get in touch upon your return."

"Okay. Is he having a good time in the Caymans?"

"I believe so."

"Good."

"Was there something else, Jonathan?"

Oh, so she wanted him off the line. He felt disappointed; she didn't miss him at all. He was just a nuisance to her now.

"Well, yeah, I haven't asked how you are."

"I'm fine."

"You been keeping busy?" He wondered what she'd been up to.

"Yes."

Okay, he gave up. She obviously didn't want to have a conversation with him; her one word responses proved that. He wasn't going to push it.

"Well I'm glad to hear everything's okay. I don't want to keep you—"

"Oh there is something I need to tell you," she interrupted.

"Yeah?"

"I was walking Porthos the other day and a man approached me. He asked me if I was on the Enterprise, and then said he knew you. His name was Steve Johnson."

The name sounded familiar but Jonathan couldn't quite place it at the moment. "Did he say what he wanted?"

"He asked me to convey his thanks for saving Earth."

"Oh."

"He's working at Starfleet Medical now, and said you could contact him there if you wished to do so upon your return."

"He's a doctor?"

"I believe so."

The puzzle came together and Jonathan remembered who he was — someone he hadn't seen in almost 18 years.

"Okay."

"You remember him, Jonathan?" T'Pol asked, showing the first sign of interest since this conversation started.

"Yeah, just an old acquaintance," he replied, being vague on purpose.

"If I see him again, should I relay a message?"

"You planning on bumping into him again, T'Pol?" From what she'd said he assumed their meeting was accidental.

"No, I am not planning on it." Her tone was cold and distant; he'd obviously annoyed her.

"Okay. Anyway, thanks for looking after Porthos. I appreciate it."

She didn't answer.

"Well bye then."

"Goodbye, Jonathan."

The screen went blank. The conversation couldn't have been more awkward or stilted. Every question he posed felt forced and each reply she gave was short and to the point, as if she wanted the call to end as soon as possible. Well what did he expect — adulation and affection? He'd made his bed…now he had to lay in it.

It had been good to see her; she looked well rested and as beautiful as ever. Being off-duty agreed with her. He hoped looking after Porthos wasn't too much of an inconvenience, and that his pet was on his best behaviour.

He stood up and went to the kitchen to make some breakfast. He was feeling hungry now. He opened the fridge up and decided to make some scrambled eggs. First he poured himself a glass of orange juice, then went to make some coffee. He'd need caffeine to keep awake, though at the moment he felt rather wired, and guessed it was the adrenaline which had been produced during his nightmare.

He ate breakfast outside and watched the sun rise. There was something magical and wondrous about watching the birth of a new day. Despite his recent experiences, he could still appreciate that.

Nature carried on unaware that its very existence had hung in the balance for the last year or so. He watched the gulls fly tirelessly over the water's edge, fishing for their breakfast. That's all they had to worry about — the next meal. Sometimes he envied the simplicity of the animal kingdom. They didn't have consciences to deal with or ethical dilemmas to agonise over.

He took a bite of toast as his mind churned over what T'Pol had said. He hoped Trip was enjoying himself in the Caymans — he deserved it. He was curious as to why he'd got in touch, if it had been something important he'd have left a specific message.
Trip and him hadn't exactly been the best of friends since the Expanse — maybe that could be remedied.

Then there was Steve Johnson — that was certainly a blast from the past, but it brought back a lot of memories he'd rather keep buried. It wasn't Steve's fault…it was just the mention of his name caused the memory of a beautiful young girl who'd broken his heart to resurface.

He tried to recall the last time he'd seen Steve. Must have been the party he'd held
at Berkeley, a few days before he'd left for his medical internship on the east coast. He'd wanted to stay for Jonathan's graduation from flight school, but he couldn't delay the start date of his new job.

Steve hadn't been around when Maggie had dropped her bombshell…but he guessed she must have told him. They were friends after all. He wondered if Steve had kept in touch with Maggie over the years. He suddenly felt a morbid sense of curiosity as to what had happened to Miss Mullin. Had she married? Did she have children? Where was she?

Well he guessed Steve could fill him in when he returned to San Francisco. He'd definitely give him a call.

After breakfast Jonathan tried watching a movie, but couldn't get into the plot. The memories of his dream last night were too distracting. So he tried reading a bestseller he'd brought with him. That was no good either. At 8:30am he decided to go for a drive.

He'd thought about going for a swim, but decided against it. He didn't feel in the mood for swimming. He drove into town, parked at the marina and decided to explore a little. He wondered if one could rent a speedboat for the day or maybe even a sailing boat.

When he'd gone sailing with A.G. and Forrest it hadn't been his boat, and he'd been a guest, so he'd sat back while Forrest had done all the navigating. It might be fun to take to the sea one afternoon. He'd always had a hankering to be captain of the seas at least once, even if it was only for an afternoon.

He went into the marina office and found an older looking white haired gentleman, probably in his mid to late 60s, sitting behind a desk.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"I was wondering if any of these boats are for hire." He realized he should have asked at the tourist office yesterday but the idea had never crossed his mind.

The man took out a few leaflets from one of the draws on his desk and handed them to Jonathan. "Here you go — all the details you need. You can rent a sailboat by the hour or for half a day. We also have speedboats, catamarans or you can take a group cruise on one of the yachts."

"Okay, thanks." He took the leaflets out of the man's hands. "So do I contact you to make the arrangements?"

"Yeah…all the info is in the literature."

Jonathan nodded and left. He thought he'd have a look around and walked past the yachts and boats docked in the marina. Some were very opulent and would easily accommodate a large family or group of friends. One in particular caught his notice — she was called the Sunset Princess. She was around 180 feet in length and three storeys high. He wouldn't mind taking something like that out for the day to tour the neighbouring islands.

A man came out on deck with a young boy, presumably his son. "I said no, Jonathan. You just have to accept that. I don't want you and your brother going off on your own. You can wait till your mother and I are ready to go with you."

Jonathan smiled at the sound of his name and the scene before him. It was reminiscent of one from his own childhood. He'd wanted to go to the movies with a friend from school, but his father had insisted an adult accompany them, and wanted to know all the details down to what snacks they'd be buying.

He walked away — he hadn't meant to stare and he wasn't sure if the young Jonathan had noticed him standing there or not.

He left the marina and went to get a coffee in a local café. As he sipped at his latte he studied the leaflets the guy in the office had given him. He liked the idea of hiring a sailing boat for an afternoon; he didn't really want to go on a group cruise, even if it was on one of those luxurious yachts like the Sunset Princess.

He deposited his now empty cup in the recycling bin and exited the café. He meandered around a few stores, just window shopping. He stopped in a sports shop and had an extensive look at their diving gear — it reminded him of the scuba diving trips he and Trip had been on in the Florida Keys. He was sure Trip was doing plenty of that while in the Caymans.

"Thanks," he said to the assistant who'd shown him the gear.

"Will you be buying it?" she asked.

"Not today…but thanks for your time and the information."

"You're welcome." The words and the smile that followed were fake; she was probably annoyed that after taking up over ten minutes of her precious time he wasn't going to purchase anything.

He left the store and drove back towards the villa. By the time he arrived home it was just after 11am. It was 4pm in San Francisco — a good time to contact Forrest. The business day was winding to an end, and the Admiral would probably be in an amiable frame of mind.

Jonathan had been mulling over the idea of talking to Forrest about the Illyrians for quite some time. He'd probably have brought it up on the day of the debriefing if Forrest hadn't relieved him of duty. His nightmare last night had been a kind of reminder. He couldn't just sit here and do nothing. It had been almost a week since he'd last seen Forrest — maybe now he'd be more willing to listen to suggestions.

He jumped out of the jeep and climbed up the steps to the villa. "Rebecca?" he called out.

"Out here on the balcony." He went to join her.

"Hey, you," she greeted. "How you feeling?"

"Not too bad, I guess."

"You look tired…maybe you should take a nap?"

"Nah, I'll be fine. Believe me this isn't the first time I've gone without sleep."

"Oh I'm sure it isn't. So did you buy anything in town?" When she'd gone back to bed in the early hours of the morning she'd expected to get up and find him watching movies in the living room, or out swimming in the ocean. She'd been surprised to find a hand-written note saying he was driving into Suva.

"No, just looked around. Rebecca?" He pulled up a chair and sat down.

"Yeah?"

"About my nightmare…you said something about my subconscious—"

"Playing tricks on you," she finished. "Yeah what about it?"

"What did you mean exactly?"

"Just that I'm not surprised you dreamt about your father. Last night you were saying stuff like if he was alive today he'd probably disown you."

"Right. Yeah probably would."

"You still feel that way?" she asked, surprised.

"Nothing's changed."

"I thought maybe it was just the drink speaking…I assumed in the light of day you'd see things differently."

"No."

"Look I know you can't tell me whatever it is that that's torturing you, but I don't think you should be so hard on yourself. Your father was human too, don't you think he'd do anything to save his home world?"

"Henry Archer built his engine to explore…not to go to war."

"Yes, but sometimes the unexpected happens. If he was alive today you think he'd forbid the use of his design to defend Earth? Do you honestly see him letting the Xindi attack Earth and stand by and do nothing?"

He didn't answer. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. "You're not a bad person, Jonathan. I mean you wouldn't even let my boss pay for dinner last night — I don't know many guys who would say no to a free meal."

He knew she was trying to make light of the current situation.

"If you want you can have one of my sleeping pills tonight. I often use them when I'm changing time zones. They'll knock you out and you'll have a dreamless sleep. So don't worry about having to go through that nightmarish journey your brain took you on last night again."

"That sounds like a good idea. Thanks, Rebecca."

She smiled in response and said he was welcome. He then told her about his trip to the marina office and showed her the leaflets. She liked the idea of a sailing boat and suggested they arrange to rent one tomorrow afternoon. He agreed and said he'd make the arrangements.

He walked back into the house and sat at the desk. He'd call the marina second…first of all he had a more pressing matter to discuss with Admiral Forrest.

TBC