Redemption

Chapter 26

T'Pol watched the door close behind him and for a moment considered going after him. She wasn't sure why she'd pulled away. She felt confused and perplexed by her own actions.

At the barbecue she'd been starting to analyze his actions and her theories had made sense. If only he'd been straight with her about Rebecca.

She opened her hotel room door and looked down the corridor. There was no sign of him. She made her way to the elevator then entered the hotel lobby. He was no where to be seen. She asked the clerk if he'd seen him. He said a man fitting Archer's description had just made his way to the parking lot at the back of the hotel.

As she stepped into the car park she saw his car drive away. She hung her head down and concluded that this was probably for the best. She wasn't sure what had spurred her on to try and stop him. Maybe it was that sad look in his eyes or the dejected tone in his voice as he'd apologized for his actions.

The one thing she didn't wish to do was hurt him, and yet she appeared to have done a fine job of it. Why were relationships so complicated? Her knowledge was limited to observation of other couples. As for herself, the only thing close to dating she'd experienced was the few meetings that had been arranged by her family with Koss.

She returned to her bedroom and made some chamomile tea. She felt restless and agitated. She needed to meditate.

He'd asked her how he could make amends – she wished she'd told him that she needed to know exactly what was going on with him. She wanted the truth about Rebecca and she wanted to know his intentions. But instead she'd side-tracked him. Oh she did want him to deal with his own issues as well, but when they'd returned to Earth, she'd hoped by being together they could work on these issues and she could be some source of comfort to him.

His request had caught her off guard. And his comments about her not wanting to be around him were far from the truth. He didn't seem to realize that she considered taking the position on Columbia because being near him on Enterprise would be too hard in light of her feelings for him. Too much had happened for them to return to the pleasant comradeship they'd had. She imagined meetings in the Ready Room charged with tension – it might be that they couldn't work together anymore and taking a position with Hernandez was her only option.

But she hadn't decided yet.

So why had she pulled back tonight? The feel of his lips on hers had been pleasant but her logic reminded her going down this path was fraught with danger. He offered no guarantees and he hadn't exactly declared his own feelings. He just said he needed her and missed her. That didn't mean he loved her.

And then there was Maggie – maybe seeing her had brought back some old forgotten feelings and he didn't know how to deal with them. Had kissing her had anything to do with that? She was uncertain. Yes, it would have been best to discuss it but he'd been so hurt by her rejection he'd practically ran out the door.

She sat down on the thick carpet, crossed legged and sipped her tea. What would she tell Captain Hernandez tomorrow? Would she require an immediate answer? And Jonathan, as her commanding officer, had a right to know. She couldn't keep him waiting forever. It wasn't fair as he'd pointed out to her today at the barbecue.

Did she want to join Columbia? It would be a brand new crew and a new captain. She'd become attached to Enterprise and liked the familiarity. It would take a while to adjust. She realized in a moment of clarity that she didn't want to leave Enterprise at all – it had been her home for three years and the main reason why she'd decided to join Starfleet. Joining Columbia seemed illogical.

But what about Jonathan? Could their friendship be salvaged? Was being just friends even possible and more importantly, was that what she wanted? Contemplating all this made her head hurt.

Communication between them was definitely a problem. And yes she was hurt about him going to Fiji. Over the last few days it had prevented her over from speaking her true feelings. She'd waited for him to say something more than he'd simply missed her. She wanted an explanation. How could he expect her to drop everything and come running into his embrace just because he said he needed and missed her?

Her memory was excellent. She recalled with clarity exactly how he'd treated her before going to Fiji, how each time she'd reached out to him he'd pulled away. Every time they'd shared a tender embrace he'd ended up apologizing and saying it shouldn't have happened. Who was to say that would not happen again? He'd given her no indication whatsoever that he wished to pursue a serious relationship with her.

And for a Vulcan there was no other way. She would not be part of any kind of casual fling or romantic interlude. Her people bonded with their mates for life. It was that simple.

She finished her tea and prepared some candles for meditation. She needed to cleanse her mind. Hopefully she'd feel calmer in the morning.

Jonathan drove around the city, not wanting to go home straight away. He'd felt tired at the barbecue but that seemed secondary now in relation to how extremely foolish he felt. What had he been thinking? That she'd return his kiss and welcome him with open arms?

Sure that had been his wishful thinking but the stark reality was a lot less pleasant. Why hadn't he just told her the truth – instead of declaring his love he'd only said he needed her. Boy, talk about being selfish! But there was that fear that went way back, probably to the time when Maggie had refused him. He'd never told another woman that he loved them. He'd been rejected once – he didn't think he could cope with T'Pol rejecting him after confessing those three words. Tonight was bad enough.

He recalled the cold emotionless look in her eyes. It hadn't always been that way. He'd experienced the warmth in her eyes that night in the conference room when he's so rudely rejected her and accused her of experimentation. Then that day at the pier when he'd jerked his hand away. I'm an idiot, he decided. Only an idiot would refuse the affections of the woman he loved.

His head felt all jumbled up – too much had happened in the last few days and keeping his emotions in check was starting to take a toll. Steve, Maggie, the press hounding him, Erika and her selfishness, Forrest's complacency about the Illyrians and T'Pol hating him were hard to deal with all at once.

Did she hate him or was he exaggerating as she claimed? Okay, hate was a strong word but she sure didn't seem to want to be in his company. It's my fault entirely, he decided. Rebecca had given him hope, making him think he could patch things up with T'Pol. That didn't seem to be the case. And now he was about to lose her as his first officer as well. That was adding insult to injury.

He could not imagine her not being there. He'd felt that way ever since Forrest had told him T'Pol was to be recalled back to Vulcan in disgrace because of what had happened at P'Jem. It was then that he'd felt this strange pang in his heart and had to face up to the fact that he'd developed an affection for his first officer. It might even be more than that – but one thing he'd known for certain: he couldn't imagine Enterprise without her being around.

He couldn't imagine it then and he sure couldn't imagine it now. So what should he do? There was nothing he could do…he wasn't T'Pol's keeper – if this is what she wanted he was powerless to change her mind.

He pulled the car over and turned the engine off. He hadn't even been sure where he was going. He glanced around and realized he'd headed south on the 101 and he'd ended up in Palo Alto. He was near Stanford. Boy, that seemed like another century now. That was even before Maggie arrived on the scene.

Then his life had consisted of getting good grades and winning the local water polo championships. Yeah, it was more like another lifetime. He'd known then that his life was pretty much mapped out for him – it was his duty to carry on the family legacy and fulfill his father's dream. But back in those innocent times he'd never imagined he'd be in a position like he was today — flummoxed, guilty, scared and alone.

He buried his face in the steering wheel and sighed. He'd get through this wouldn't he? He had to, there wasn't much choice. If he had no hope of being with T'Pol then life would simply have to go on. He'd concentrate on rescuing the Illyrians and once that had been satisfactory resolved, well he hoped he could continue his father's dream and explore the strange new worlds out there waiting to be discovered.

But somehow that idea didn't satisfy him. Something was missing. It was what Frank Gardener had – a partner, a mate. Jonathan had wanted it once – with Maggie. He'd planned their lives out expecting her full cooperation. Her refusal had caught him completely off guard. To protect himself he'd decided not to give his heart to anyone again. Caroline, Erika and Rebecca had all deserved better. He was grateful that at least a good friendship had come out of his relationship with Rebecca.

He yawned and realized it was getting late. It was already after 11pm and he needed a clear head tomorrow for when he spoke to Forrest. He turned the car around and head back to San Francisco.

He entered the apartment and noticed a message had been left on the computer. He played it and Maggie's face appeared. She wanted to make arrangements for that lunch they'd agreed to and asked if he was free Wednesday around noon. He was supposed to pick up Rebecca at 2pm from the shuttleport but estimated he could do both. But he wouldn't call Maggie now, it was late.

It would be weird talking to her, one on one. The dinner at her apartment had been strange enough, but he hadn't shared a meal alone with her since that fateful night when she'd refused him. They'd had dinner at a cozy Italian Place in Ghirardelli Square before they'd walked back to her place. He'd been so nervous, checking his pants pocket every few minutes for the ring he was going to offer her.

She'd been completely unsuspecting. Their dinner conversation had entailed talking about some exams she was studying for and what outfit she was going to wear for his graduation from Flight School the next day. She never turned up. He didn't know how he'd got through that day – the memory was mostly a blur.

Was there any point to rehashing all of this? Didn't he have enough on his plate with his feelings for T'Pol without bringing up the past? Well he had to admit he was curious to hear Maggie's explanation – if she even had one. And he wanted to know about her and Steve, whether that had been the real reason for her refusal.

He checked on Porthos who was sound asleep and got ready for bed.

Archer and Forrest were welcomed aboard Enterprise by Commander Eric Stanton who'd been put in charge of repairs by Captain Jeffries.

"An honor to finally meet you, Captain," Stanton said, offering out his hand.

Jonathan gave an awkward smile and shook his hand. As he looked around he saw people at work in the corridors, wearing safety masks as they put back together panels, beams and other components that had been destroyed or damaged.

"Would you like to have a look at the Bridge?" Stanton asked him. "It's almost complete and your Ready Room was finished yesterday."

Archer nodded and the three of them made their way to the Bridge. For the amount of time the repair crews had had they'd done a thorough job. The bridge looked in pristine condition, apart from a couple loose wires still hanging from the ceiling. He entered his Ready Room and looked around, his hand caressing the desk – a new one, not the one T'Pol had smashed her PADD against.

Stanton said he wanted to show them the newly upgraded Command Center next. Jonathan said he'd join them in a minute. He wanted to be alone in here for a moment. He leaned up against the bulkhead and gazed out the window. Memories from a few months ago flooded back. The stars weren't streaming past as they normally were, but this is where he'd stood when he'd hatched his scheme.

The room had been in complete disarray. There'd been no lighting, except for that escaping from the Bridge and through the gap in the Ready Room door. He needed to get to Degra and he only had three days. With a fried warp coil it made no difference whether it was three days or three months. They'd never get there in time.

He'd already asked the Illyrian captain if they could do a trade of some sorts, and he'd been willing to trade anything but his warp coil. Each breath he took seemed labored and painful. His heart pounded in his chest. The ideas running through his mind horrified him. They sickened him to his very core. How could he even consider them?

What should he do? The Osaarian had warned him of a time like this, but he hadn't believed him. He'd been flippant, making some quip about how he wouldn't allow morality to get in the way of this mission. But he'd lied. Morality was Jonathan Archer's very foundation. And now he was to betray it. His conscience rebuked him for even thinking of such an idea, but he silenced it and instead concentrated on the logistics of the raid.

If they were quick no one would be hurt. He'd leave the Illyrians with Trellium and plenty of supplies. They'd make it home okay he told himself. He couldn't think otherwise, if he did he wouldn't be able to go through this.

The mere act of piracy, let alone stranding these poor people in the middle of nowhere was bad enough. But what else was there to do? He racked his brain hoping other solutions would surface but nothing came to him.

So he turned off his moral compass and decided to go ahead with his plan. He'd sat down at his desk and stared into the darkness wondering how he would deal with the guilt – because there would come a time, if the mission was a success, where he'd have to come to terms with the consequences of his actions.

He'd hoped Phlox might talk him out of his unethical plan, but the doctor hadn't even questioned it. It was T'Pol that cut him to the quick. He'd never seen her like this – eyes blazing, raised voice, tears in her eyes, desperately trying to reason with him. She reminded him of the words he's spoken to her in Sickbay about how he couldn't save Earth without holding on to what made him human.

She saw him as a compassionate, moral, noble and righteous man. Now he was going to betray his humanity and that image she had of him. As she yelled at him he felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. He wanted to yell back at her to shut up, to tell her he already knew all of this and making this decision was the hardest thing he'd ever had to do.

He was probably going to hate himself for the rest of his life. His hands were tied – he felt he had no choice and he tried to explain this to her. It appeared to work and he'd turned her into an accomplice.

Jonathan felt his heart pounding as he relived these memories. Perhaps coming back to Enterprise hadn't been such a good idea. And yet he had to come back at some point, he couldn't run from this forever.

He exited his Ready Room and headed for the Command Center. When he arrived a crewmember informed him that Forrest and Stanton had been and gone and were probably in Engineering by now.

Passing several repair crews on the way he finally made his way down the corridor which lead to Engineering. He opened the large hatch and walked through it to find Forrest questioning Stanton over the engines.

"Ah, Jon, you've decided to join us," Forrest said.

"What's going on here?" Jonathan asked.

"The crew are refitting some components and installing the new warp coil," Stanton explained.

He looked up to see two crewmen attempting to dislodge something from the engine. One of them called to a third person asking for their help. "What's the problem?" Archer asked.

"It's this alien technology – we're having a bit of trouble getting rid of it."

Jonathan felt a lump in his throat as he realized exactly what they were trying to remove. The three of them pulled together and he heard a metallic crash of sorts and a large metal object was thrown to the floor.

Jonathan walked over to it and glanced down at what was left of the Illyrian warp coil.

"Not sure how Tucker got this damn thing to work, it sure is rudimentary and there's still about a quarter of it jammed in here." He heard someone say.

They didn't have a clue. They didn't know what they were handling was what he'd sold his soul for; that this rudimentary piece of equipment as they referred to it, was what had enabled them to get to Degra in time and been the catalyst in saving Earth. They weren't aware that he'd stranded a whole crew of innocent people out in space just to have this now useless piece of metal.

He heard one of the crew ask the other for a specialized kind of spanner. "I might be able to wrench this out." Further noise ensued and several more pieces of twisted metal landed near Archer's feet.

"Jon, maybe it would be safer if you got out of the way," Forrest suggested.

Jonathan picked up a piece of the coil which lay at his feet and stared at it. "This is it, Admiral."

"What are you talking about, Jon?"

"Part of the Illyrians' coil."

Forrest approached him and tried to coax him away from the area of falling debris. "Commander Stanton, what's next to show us?"

"Some upgrades in the Armoury. Follow me, please."

Jonathan walked with them in a kind of daze. He'd placed the small metal object in his pants pocket and couldn't get his mind off it. The crew had treated the coil as a piece of garbage, as if it was worthless and undeveloped. He'd sold his soul for this and they'd dismantled it and tossed it aside in a matter of minutes as if it was yesterday's trash.

Stanton showed them around the Armoury but Jonathan didn't register anything that was said. Coming back to Enterprise had only served to remind him of his crimes. Forrest asked if he was feeling all right, noting that he looked a little pale.

"Maybe we could cut the tour short."

Forrest agreed and told Stanton he'd finish his inspection another day. They made their way to the airlock and boarded the shuttle. Jonathan was about to sit in the pilot's seat when Forrest said he'd fly the shuttle back to San Francisco. "Why?" Jonathan asked.

"Cause you said you're not feeling well."

"I'm well enough to fly." He'd been the pilot on the way up.

"I disagree. You're distracted. In the Armoury you had this glazed look in your eyes. What's going on, Jon?"

"Nothing, I'm fine."

"Are the ghosts haunting you?"

"What?" He couldn't believe Forrest was talking like this.

"You're fixated on what happened in the Expanse. That's why you didn't meet us in the Command Center, isn't it? And that's why you weren't listening to Stanton in the Armoury – because all your brain could process was the Illyrian coil being dismantled."

"Okay, I'll admit that being back onboard did bring back some memories. But I'm not fixated."

"What would you call it, Jon? Would obsession be a better word?" Forrest sat down at the helm controls and fired the shuttle up.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Being out there was no walk in the park."

"I read your report, Jon. I never thought going into the Expanse was an easy assignment. I knew it would take its toll on you. War is a nasty business and sometimes sacrifices and choices have to be made. You made one – for the good of Earth, and now you have to live with it. But you can't let it take over your life. This is affecting you on too deep a level."

Jonathan didn't answer, merely shrugged his shoulders. He sat down in the passenger seat and watched as they disembarked from spacedock. Soon Enterprise was just a dot in the distance and they were re-entering Earth's atmosphere.

"Do you want coffee, Jon?" Forrest asked when they were back in his office. He declined. Forrest asked his assistant to bring him a latte from the cafeteria. Then he called her back and said to get two, just in case Archer changed his mind.

"The coffee here has improved a lot since you were stationed on Earth, Jon."

"Oh." He didn't care either way; he just wanted to get to the matter at hand – the Illyrians. "I know you think this is some kind of obsession or fixation on my part, but just tell me straight — is there anything that can be done about these aliens who are stranded out there because of me?"

"I don't believe so."

"You could let me take Enterprise back out."

"Jon, be serious. It could take you months, maybe more to find them. I can't authorize sending you on a wild goose chase."

"It wouldn't be. I know where we left them. I'm sure we could map out a search area."

"Even if it was up to me, I can't say the rest of the Starfleet council would approve this."

"How do you know? It's worth a try isn't it?"

"I know because I already asked."

Jonathan gave him a confused look. This was unexpected. He'd thought Forrest was against the idea – and the way he'd accused him of being obsessed back on board Enterprise he hadn't had much hope of getting him to listen this afternoon.

"T'Pol asked me to," Forrest explained.

"Excuse me?" Jonathan asked, wondering if he'd misheard.

"When you were in Fiji T'Pol came to see me. She asked if I could help in arranging a rescue plan for the Illyrians."

He couldn't believe his ears. Why hadn't T'Pol said something to him? Maybe she'd only thought of it since he left for Fiji, but why hadn't she said anything since his return? Surely she knew how important this was to him.

"And your response?"

"I said I'd put her ideas forward at the next council meeting, which I did. The council isn't going to authorize any rescue. We just don't have the resources, Jon. There was a meeting this morning, and I questioned them again and the answer is the same. I'm sorry, Jonathan. It's time to accept what happened and move on."

"I can't…that's not acceptable to me." He fingered the metal object he'd placed in his pocket.

"Then maybe you should think about getting some help."

"Help?"

"You know what I mean. Talk to someone about this. I can see you are troubled. I'd hoped a vacation would help you, give you a chance to relax and de-stress. But it's obvious the situation is worse than that."

"Admiral, can you truthfully say you wouldn't be troubled if you'd done the same thing?"

"Of course I would be. But like I said to you earlier, you can't let it rule your life. What choice did you have? If you haven't stolen the coil, do you think we'd be here today having this conversation?"

"In other words the ends justify the means."

"Sometimes that's the way it is, Jon."

"We saved Earth, now it's time to make right what we did wrong."

"It's not within my power to authorize that."

"Then dammit, who is it up to?" Jonathan stood up from his chair and paced the room. He felt like he was banging his head against a brick wall. Forrest's assistant walked in at that moment with the coffees and placed them on the admiral's desk.

"These lattes are really good, here have one," Forrest offered.

"I don't give a damn about coffee, Admiral! I'm concerned about a group of people I stranded who can't make it home because of my orders."

"That's enough, Captain!" Forrest was now raising his voice. Jonathan sat back down and waited for his reprimand. He shouldn't have shouted at his commanding officer. "I'm sorry – but this is eating away at me."

"I can see that. I shouldn't have neglected this for so long. Jonathan, get some professional help, and if I have to make it an order, I will. I can't in good conscience send you out on another mission in this state."

"You're threatening me now?"

"I'm telling you to get some help and deal with this; that is if you want to continue being Enterprise's captain. Do you?"

"Yes." There wasn't anything else in his life that held any importance. If that was taken away he didn't know what he'd do with himself. It had been his life's path ever since he could remember.

Forrest taped some keys on the computer and handed Jonathan a PADD. "Here's a list of qualified personnel at Starfleet Medical who'd be happy to assist you."

"You mean shrinks," he said, as he perused the list. Dr. Steve Johnson was on the top of the list.

"If there was another way, I'd suggest it."

"There is. Can I least try and see if someone else can help?"

"Like who, Jon?"

"The Andorians, perhaps. Maybe even the Xindi themselves."

"T'Pol suggested the Xindi also, and the council didn't approve that."

It seemed he and T'Pol thought alike. "The council is being stubborn and prejudiced. We're at peace with the Xindi now."

"There's no more to discuss, Jon. Would you like me to make a referral for you or will you do it yourself?"

"Admiral, is this really necessary?"

"I think we both know it is. Dr. Johnson has extensive experience in helping people recover from the Xindi conflict – he was stationed in Florida not long after the attack."

"Yes I know him, but counseling bereaved relatives is different to trying to brainwash me into not feeling guilty anymore." Besides, he was angry at Steve for that stunt he pulled on Friday. How could he go to him for help?

"Sounds like you are knocking the idea before you even begin. I'm asking you to just give it a try – it might help."

"It feels like I don't have choice."

"That's right, Jon. You don't."

It was just after 4pm when he left Admiral Forrest's office. He waited impatiently for the elevator to arrive and wondered why it was taking its sweet time in getting here. He wanted to get out of here as soon as he could. It felt stifling. At last it arrived and the doors opened.

"Captain," T'Pol's voice said. He joined her and what looked like two young ensigns, who both greeted him.

"I thought you were seeing Erika at 1pm," he said.

"Captain Hernandez had a change of schedule and asked me to come at 3pm instead."

"So the meeting has just finished?"

"Yes."

The doors opened and everyone exited at the ground floor. The two ensigns went their way and Jonathan noticed T'Pol was walking at his side as they approached the main entrance. He held the door open for her.

"Jonathan, can I talk to you?" She was using his first name now that they were out of earshot.

"What's there to talk about?" Then he realized she was probably going to tell him he needed to recruit a new first officer. "Oh, right, you've accepted Erika's offer."

"Would you please not second guess me?"

"Okay, I'm sorry. My nerves are frazzled."

"Something happened with Admiral Forrest?" she asked with concern.

"Oh yeah, something happened."

"If it's agreeable why don't we walk over to the Spacedock Cafeteria, have something to eat and talk?"

She was certainly being friendly, he wondered why. Maybe she wanted to let him down easy about accepting the job on Columbia. He didn't know if being with her right now was the best thing. His emotions were all over the place.

"I don't think I'm very good company, T'Pol."

"I appreciate the warning, but I doubt I'd be witness to behaviour I haven't seen before."

He gave her a half smile. "That's generous of you. After last night I was sure you didn't want to be around me." He was tired and exasperated. He didn't have the energy to feel embarrassed about the kiss right now.

"Shall we go then?" He nodded.

His discussion with Forrest had given him an appetite and although it was too early for dinner he ordered a double cheeseburger and fries. T'Pol requested a salad.

"Yeah I know it's not exactly a healthy choice—"

"I'm not here to chastise you on what you eat, Jonathan."

He poured himself a glass of water and gulped it down. Boy, he was thirsty.

"About last night—"

He gestured with his hand, hoping she'd stop. "I think it's best if we just forget that."

"I wanted to explain."

"There's nothing to explain, T'Pol. And I'll ask as a favour to me if we can just drop that subject."

"If that's what you wish."

"Yes. Thank you." Was it his imagination or did she seem disappointed? Couldn't be, she'd been the one who'd pulled away from him. I'm tired and it's wishful thinking, he decided.

"So what happened with Admiral Forrest?" she asked.

"Why don't you go first and tell me about you and Erika?"

"Very well. She outlined what she considered were the advantages of being on Columbia. She told me who I'd be serving with and who'd be under my command. She explained what would be expected of me if I decided to take the position."

"And?"

"I don't follow."

"What was your answer?"

"I said I needed time to consider the matter. She was agreeable to this but asked that I get in touch with her within a week."

"Oh." So he was going to be in limbo for another week.

Their food was served and he bit into his burger as if he hadn't eaten for days. Boy, it tasted good. He'd noticed that apple pie with ice cream was on the menu and decided he'd order that after finishing this. After all, what was wrong with a bit of comfort food?

"Jonathan."

"Yes?"

She pointed to the corners of his mouth and handed him a napkin. "I believe it's called ketchup?"

"Right, thanks," he said taking the napkin and wiping his face. "Are you any closer to a decision?"

"No. It is difficult."

"Yeah. I imagine it is." He wished he could say something more intelligible, or at least something to convince her to stay on Enterprise. He'd done it before and both times it had worked like a charm.

The first time he'd pointed out to her how useful a Vulcan being on board would be to him, and she'd taken the bait. He'd had no idea it would be so easy. And the second time – well he'd told her plain and simple that she could catch up with Captain Sopek and convey her wishes if she wanted to. She'd made up some excuse about Phlox saying she needed to stay in Sickbay. Oh he hadn't been fooled one bit, it was as plain as day that she wanted to stay on board.

And the third time he hadn't even had to ask her to stay – she'd decided that of her own accord, resigning her commission and following him into the great unknown. None of them had known if they'd ever return from the Expanse. She'd given up a hell of a lot…and why?

You need me.

That was it. That had been her explanation – plain and simple. Well he'd told her he needed her last night, but it hadn't seemed to make much of an impression. Guess I lost my chance, he thought, and that familiar dull ache in his heart returned.

He offered her some fries. To his surprise she actually took a couple from his plate, spearing them with her fork. He studied her eating her salad. She made eating look like an art form. Everything was sliced neatly on her plate and then loaded onto her fork with such precision.

"Jonathan?"

"Yes?"

"You're staring."

"Am I? Sorry."

"You were going to tell me about your meeting with Admiral Forrest," she reminded him.

"Right." He fished something out of his pocket and placed it on the table in front of her. "Take a look at that."

She studied the object. "It appears to be part of an engine component."

"Yup, it's a piece from a warp coil. I went to see Enterprise today. They were removing this from the main engine."

"Is it—"

"Yes – it's part of the Illyrian warp coil." He replied in a hushed tone, making sure no one overheard them. "The repair crew knew nothing about it, aside from the fact that it was alien technology. You should have seen the way they disposed of it…like it was an annoyance hindering the speed of their repairs."

"They did not understand the significance of it, Jonathan."

"No, that they didn't," he agreed.

"You're upset."

"Oh yeah I was upset. Forrest thinks I'm losing it – called me fixated and obsessed. I've been ordered to seek professional help if I want to keep my captaincy."

"Perhaps it's for the best."

"I don't know." He sighed. "By the way, Forrest mentioned you. He said you'd been to see him. Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was nothing to tell you. I made a suggestion in regard to the Illyrians and was awaiting his response. The last I'd heard he was still waiting for a final decision from the council members."

"Well they convened today and the answer's no."

"That is disappointing, but not unexpected."

"No. Starfleet don't mind you doing the dirty work, but when it comes to cleaning up the mess they are nowhere to be seen." He finished off his burger and pushed the plate away from him. He called the waitress over and ordered the apple pie and a hot coffee. T'Pol asked for a fruit salad.

"Indulging in a sweet, huh?" he asked.

"It's fruit."

"Okay, so I guess that's not cheating."

"I was going to tell you."

"About?"

"The Illyrians. I had hoped it would be good news, that's why I never said anything before."

"Well thanks anyway. But it wasn't your responsibility."

"I wanted to help. Besides, I'm a member of your crew – I share in the responsibility. I told you this before."

"The sentiment is appreciated, T'Pol. But I gave the order and I know you were against it. Just being in my Ready Room today reminded me how much you were against it. I won't have you sharing any of the blame."

"So what now?" she asked.

"I don't know. If there was a way to contact Shran maybe…but Forrest isn't hearing of it. He thinks I just need to let it go."

He straightened up. Slouching wasn't good for his back. His shoulders were tense and his neck ached. He could feel a tension headache coming on. If only the last year could be erased – he wished things could go back to the way they were, before the Xindi attack. He wished he and T'Pol could go back to those times – of quiet, comfortable camaraderie with a hope of something more.

That's how it had felt over a year ago. Their friendship had developed into something strong – he'd felt a kinship with her.

"Jonathan," she said tenderly. He felt a feminine hand touch his. He quickly removed it. This was no more than pity. He looked tired and she probably sensed he was on edge. That's why she was being extra friendly. This had nothing to do with her caring for him – if it had she wouldn't have rejected him last night.

"You said last night this sort of thing was a bad idea. On reflection, I tend to agree with you."

"I apologize, I meant no offense."

"None taken."

They ate their dessert in silence. Suddenly comfort food didn't feel that comforting anymore. Thinking over what Forrest said he realized that the Admiral was right – he couldn't be Enterprise's captain, not in the state he was in now.

Rescuing the Atkins boy had been a kind of temporary reprise – he'd begun to feel better about himself. But being back on board Enterprise today had taken him a step back in his recovery. He had no idea how psychobabble was going to change any of this. Rescuing the Illyrians seemed the only way to appease his soul and cure his guilty conscience.

He paid the bill and they exited the cafeteria. "Do you have any plans for tonight?" T'Pol asked.

"No."

"Perhaps we could take Porthos for a walk together? It feels like a warm evening."

She felt sorry for him and didn't want him to be alone – that was the only explanation. God, how he hated when someone showed him pity. But he didn't relish the idea of solitude, so accepted her offer.

TBC