Summary of the story thus far: When Trip goes on a secret mission his vessel is attacked. At the last minute Trip is transported to another ship and sold as a slave to the Romulans. He meets four other prisoners, the Vulcans V'Ran and Mita, who is pregnant, the Tellerite Gel and the Andorian Skrov. He introduces himself as Rokel. As they work in a mining facility, Mita discovers that someone has planted an alien insect called a rovotkau behind Trip's ear for the purpose of blocking his bond with T'Pol. The treatment for his insect infestation makes Trip very ill, but in the end he is able to meet T'Pol in their white space.

A/N: Thank you, readers and reviewers, for your patience! I also want to thank Distracted for her excellent work as a beta.

The part about Jon's youth was inspired by the information about his father's illness. Trip mentions in this chapter "the meaning of his official Earth name". The name Charles means "human" or "male".

This story is a sequel to The Captives. The evil genius in that story was Senator Tenson, Starfleet Liaison for Vulcan Affairs, who turned out to be a Romulan spy. In this chapter she returns to the stage.

Disclaimer: see first chapter

Part one

37 years ago….

– 2124 – Saint Mary's Medical Center, San Francisco

Silver – The silvery painted door of his father's hospital room was closed. Emory, his father's friend who had gone with him to Saint Mary's, had told him he had to speak with the doctor and had asked Jon to wait for him in the waiting area. Jon had his favorite book, a copy of The Cosmos: A to Z, with him. He had already spent hours of staring at every picture of celestial objects in the book, but he still liked to go through the pages, trying to discover something new.

From his seat in the waiting area Jon had a good view of his father's room. He felt nervous. He loved Dad. He missed Dad. Dad was his hero. But would the person behind that silvery door today be his father or the stranger he sometimes became?

After his mother had died, his father had spent more time at home. Dad had been there at breakfast and when he came home from school. They had spent hours with their hobby, building models of spaceships. The best part was when they went to the beach nearby, when they tried to make the ship fly. Many times it worked, and the joy of that moment was followed by a ritual of drinking hot chocolate with marshmallows and eating French toast in Barney's, the cafeteria on the beach. When he went to bed, Dad came to tuck him in and they talked about school, friends, his mother, about what he wanted to be when he grew up.

But a year ago things had gone wrong. Dad sometimes forgot to tuck him in. Jon had waited for hours for him to come by before he finally fell asleep. Dad also forgot about Jon's school work. He complained about headaches. Jon could see his father was in a lot of pain, and there had been nothing he could do.

His father had started to act strange. He sometimes saw things that weren't there. One day he sang Christmas carols aloud and asked Jon if he had seen the Christmas tree his mother had decorated. Mom had died three years before and it was the middle of summer. Dad had meant it for real. More strange things happened, and deep inside Jon had become afraid.

Friends had told his father he needed to see a doctor. The doctor found out that Dad was very sick. A disease was destroying his brain. They told Jon this illness was the reason that his Dad sometimes saw things that weren't true. It wasn't his father talking. It was his disease. But whatever the doctors told him, it didn't make Jon feel any better.

Dad was admitted to the hospital. His pain and hallucinations became worse.

One time his father had been convinced that bugs were crawling on his blanket, rows and rows of bugs, eating his blanket. He had yelled to the nurse to chase them away. Another time his father started to scream that his room was on fire and to put the fire alarm on. He screamed and raved until the doctors sedated him.

The weirdest thing was his obsession that the Vulcans were out to kill him. A couple times his father had told him that the nurse – who was clearly human – was a Vulcan spy who wanted to poison him. Dad had begged Jon to ask the medical staff for a different nurse.

However disturbing it was to see Dad, his strong, wonderful father, raving like a lunatic, it was never as disturbing as his father being silent and cold and failing to recognize him. Those were the times when his "Hi Dad, it's me, Jonathan" was met with a cold stare and the words "I don't have a son. Who are you?"

Jon still shivered thinking about those events. He looked up to the closed door of his father's room. Every day he looked forward to visiting his father, but he was also afraid. Afraid of what kind of person he would find behind that silvery painted door: his loving father, or this stranger that looked like his father but acted so weird.

The door opened. Two people stepped out, a man and a young woman with long red hair. Jon was surprised. He didn't know his father had visitors. The couple smiled to each other. The man put his arm around her and they walked away. They just passed Emory, who gestured to him to come. Together they walked into his father's room.

The lines in his father's face showed that he was in agonizing pain. "Jon!" he whispered and he managed a smile. Dad and Jon talked for a while, and for Jon it felt like old times. He told his father that he and Emory had visited his new school. He looked forward to going there. When he was in the midst of explaining about the subjects he was going to have, all the sports he could do at his new school, and how the school had a great pool for swimming lessons and water polo, Dad suddenly turned to Emory and said "Hank Black and Ellen Tenson were here this morning. It was good to see them."

"Do I know them?" Emory asked. He hadn't said much before; he'd mostly let Jon and Dad talk.

"They're friends. Hank worked with me in the earlier stages of the warp project," Dad said. The soft features of his Dad's face suddenly changed into a grim mask. Jon hated that face. Dad got that fanatic look in his eyes. He bowed down to Jon and whispered to him "Hank and Ellen said it too. The Vulcans are our enemies. We should look for new allies."

"Good of them to visit, Henry," Emory said, ignoring his father's remark. Emory pushed him back to his pillow. "Would you like something to drink? I can ask the nurse for some juice."

Dad leaned back on the pillow, looking terribly pale. "That would be great, Emory," he answered, now with his normal voice. "And would you get this young man some hot chocolate?" Jon let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Dad acted normal again. He smiled at him and nodded. He'd rather have had a soda, but if Dad wanted to treat him to hot chocolate, he was going to enjoy it.

Emory got the drinks, and after they had consumed them they spent some time laughing and talking before he said goodbye to Dad. Dad had become more tired, and the pain was obvious in his eyes. When Jon hugged his father, he felt how skinny his father had become. Dad whispered the words to him that had been his goodbye since he had been admitted to the hospital. "Keep things straight and steady. Finish what you start. Embrace trust, not fear, Jonny." Jon wriggled himself out of his father's hug, said goodbye and left with Emory. At the silver door he stopped and waved at his Dad. Dad managed to lift his hand and waved back. His voice was hardly audible. "Bye, son."

It was one of the last times Jon saw his Dad. In a week's time his father's got worse and worse, and despite all the efforts of the doctors, Henry Archer, beloved father and friend, departed from this life, leaving his 12-year old son Jonathan Archer behind.

Part two

-2161- Present time - Farel Moon – The moon on which Trip (under the name of Rokel) is held captive.

Silver. It was a cold and clear night. The curtains were open; through the two windows the silvery night light of the planet – caused by the reflection of the huge lights of the facility on the silver colored moon surface - shone into the workers' living quarters. It illuminated the place with soft light. V'Ran had been trying to fall asleep in his bed, when he heard a sound. He moved upwards, feeling the cold material of the da ek'zura that he was wearing under his clothes on his skin. It was Rokel's medallion.

Instead of exchanging it for the materials for the antidote, V'Ran had kept the medallion. It was a family piece, after all, and when Gel had offered another means to trade, he had taken it gladly. Afterwards, when Rokel was fighting his illness, he had studied the family jewelry from the way the different components were welded together to the lines carved in silver and the images of silverbirds on the back. The silver lines were ancient Vulcan writing. It was easy for V'Ran to translate the characters. The medallion had led him to an astonishing discovery about Rokel's background.

V'Ran didn't know what it was about the young Human. Since they'd met in that prison cell, V'Ran had known Rokel was a special person. He had felt a strange need to protect him. The discovery that somebody had tried to block Rokel's bond with his Vulcan wife and finding out which family she belonged to had made him very alert to the danger that awaited Rokel. It was his obligation to warn him.

For now, that was impossible. The Human had returned from the medical facility, but was still unconscious. During his treatment for his infestation with the rovotkau insect Rokel had gotten very ill. It got noticed by the guards, and they transferred him to the facility. They had given him a short treatment. Rokel looked better when he returned, still in a deep sleep.

With Rokel being ill and not able to defend himself, V'Ran kept a close eye on him. He wasn't the only one. The noise that he had heard had come from Mita. The silvery moonlight provided enough light to see that Mita had gotten out of bed. Mita was heading towards the bed in which Rokel rested.

"Mita", V'Ran called to her softly. She stood by the sleeping Human, observing him. Her normally straight posture seemed less rigid. V'Ran stepped out of bed and walked towards her. "You have done well," he whispered. He touched her lightly with two fingers on one shoulder, realizing how much he respected her. He acted without thinking, the gesture seemed to come naturally, and yet it filled him with shame and confusion afterwards.

Mita most have picked up the warmth in his voice, because in the moonlight he saw the tips of her ears turn light green. The fact that she was blushing filled him with a silly pride. He suppressed it quickly. He was a middle aged man of 120 years old, not some love-sick 60-year old.

But the feelings he was having when it came to Mita simply were overwhelming. V'Ran realized those feelings had been under the surface for some time. What had happened to them on Hetaria had only amplified it. The memory of his fever time was blurred; it was like looking through a haze. However, during meditation pieces of those moments returned to him: the burning of the fever, the smell of Mita, her soft skin under his hands, her hot body against his, the powerful images of her mind, revealing her true self, united with his mind. But the memories were always followed by what he had felt after the fever had been quenched: shame, guilt, and confusion.

In spite of their complex and difficult past and the emotions that went with it, V'Ran knew without a doubt that he had formed a strong bond with Mita based on mutual affection. The first signs had been two years ago, but it hadn't been a full bond as it was now. This all gave him food for thought regarding what had happened to that other bond, and to his wife T'Prel, at home on Vulcan. He hadn't seen T'Prel in 50 years, but the bond had been there. At least it had been up to five years ago. Had she died? Had their bond withered away? Not only the shame of what happened on Hetaria plagued him during meditation, but he was also trying to find the logic in losing the bond with T'Prel and bonding with Mita.

"It looks like Rokel is recovering," Mita's soft voice interrupted his thoughts. V'Ran took a closer look at the Human. His face was reddish, his moist hair in that strange blond color pasted on his forehead. However, his breathing wasn't erratic anymore. Instead he breathed calmly. Mita placed her hand on Rokel's forehead. He stirred in his sleep. "His fever has gone down," Mita stated.

"That's good news," he said, knowing Mita had been concerned about Rokel's condition. "We must return to our beds. The guards could be here any minute."

Mita nodded. As they stepped back to their beds, he noticed Mita squeezed her eyes twice. When she sat on her bed, ready to slip under the blanket, she waited a second. Her hands went up to her face and she started to massage her temples. As she took her place under the blanket, she looked pale and drained.

At the risk of being caught by the guards, he seated himself on the bed. "Headache?" he suggested.

"Yes," she answered. "The child… he is giving me headaches."

V'Ran knew that in the early months of pregnancy the bonding of the baby to his mother caused headaches. But Mita had been pregnant for four months, two weeks and three days. She had explained to him that children also needed to bond with their fathers and had encouraged him to touch her belly in order to connect with the child. He had been very reluctant to do so.

Now he felt rather selfish. No matter his struggles, the child needed him. "The baby needs his father," he answered Mita.

"Yes," she said. There was no condemnation in her voice nor– what he feared the most – were her eyes cold with judgment. She accepted him. It was one of the reasons he loved her.

Without thinking, he simply acted, and laid his hand on her belly. He closed his eyes in meditation and concentrated on the child. It took him a few seconds, and there he felt it: the presence of the baby, touching his katra. In his mind images flashed by: a child, floating in the water of his mother's womb. It had perfectly pointed ears. The baby was small and slimly built, but very active, moving his legs up and down. The child turned his head slightly and V'Ran saw two eyes; they were Mita's eyes. He was beautiful. V'Ran was touched in his deepest katra. Joy, amazement, pride and a deep desire to protect the child welled up in him. Then he felt a soft movement under his hand, like a small heel under his hand. He pulled his hand back quickly.

"He kicked," Mita said.

He avoided looking at her. If he had, he would have had even more trouble containing his emotions. This brief connection with his child, it was the most beautiful gift Mita could have given him. He felt Mita's soft hand on his; he moved his hand under hers and held it. He closed his eyes and they sat there for several seconds, holding hands as he placed all of his spinning emotions under the law of logic and calmed down. He needed to. Order was of utmost importance.

V'Ran opened his eyes .He looked around in the workers' living quarters, seeing the rows of beds. Under every gray blanket was a prisoner, most of them with a history of violence. "This is no place for a child to grow up," he said to Mita.

"He has us, V'Ran," Mita said merely. "Now go to bed. You need your sleep. Tomorrow is going be a long day again."

Part three

Present time – 2161 – Farel Moon – a few hours later.

Silver. At 3 am V'Ran woke up at his usual time for meditation. As he seated himself cross legged on the bed he saw someone sitting at the edge of the bed across from him. It was Rokel. His shoulders were slumped. When he looked up, the ordeal of the past days was written on this face. However, his reddish color had disappeared, and the look in his eyes was clear and alert. As he greeted V'Ran with a broad smile V'Ran was struck by the joy that sparkled in his alien blue eyes. The silvery writings on the back of the da ek'zura had described Rokel as the "blue eyed male", and V'Ran realized how fitting that description was.

But it wasn't his habit to greet others in the same enthusiastic fashion, no matter how glad he was that Rokel had recovered. So he nodded to Rokel and continued with his meditation.

As the alarm sounded at 4 am and all the workers got up and reported in, so did Rokel. He was welcomed by Gel and Skrov, Gel (in his usual Tellerite way) telling Rokel that it was about time that he'd finally gotten his lazy body out of bed, Skrov with a short slap on his shoulder. Both men seemed glad to see him well again. V'Ran observed two other workers greeting Rokel as well. He was amazed at Rokel's talent for endearing himself to people of all kinds, even hardened prisoners and slaves.

Rokel's recovery also didn't get unnoticed by the guards. They had the rule that anyone who could stand also could work, so after their quick breakfast all the workers, including Rokel, gathered for their transport to the mines.

In the mines V'Ran was assigned to work with Rokel in one of the tunnels. Before they started working he warned Rokel that he should take it slowly. "Don't worry, I'm fine," Rokel replied. In the next hours V'Ran noticed Rokel was wise enough not to rush himself, but worked diligently and at a steady pace.

Working alone with Rokel proved a good opportunity for him to asked Rokel about the medallion and his family history. "You're Captain Kirak's son in law," he started.

Rokel gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"Before you were treated for the rovotkau you told me that you're married to a Vulcan woman," he answered. "We talked about the Kah-ka – the bond."

V'Ran hesitated. Bonds could be felt over great distances. If they were not, they must be blocked or in the worst case, severed. Rokel's situation would be proof of that. "Did you restore the bond with your wife?" V'Ran asked. He realized it was a very personal question.

A flash of pure joy crossed over Rokel's face. "Yes," he confirmed. "I spoke to her." Happiness was clear in his voice. Then he frowned. "But what has this to do with my father in law? He's been gone for ages."

V'Ran's hand went under his shirt; he took the medallion out. "I kept it for you," V'Ran said.

Rokel recognized the jewelry at once. "I thought you sold it for the antidote," he stammered.

"I found something else to trade for," he answered. "Or rather, Gel did. Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a dilithium smuggler."

Rokel laughed, but his demeanor soon turned serious as V'Ran placed the medallion in the palm of his hand and showed it to Rokel. The silvery writings were plain. With one finger he went over the symbols as V'Ran started to explain them. "These are characters of birds carved out in silver. The silver birds are the symbol of the clan of Tilekheyakuli. They have ruled over an area famous for two spear-shaped mountains. The two straight up arrows next to the birds refer to that."

"I remember those mountains from the time I visited T'Pol's home," Rokel remarked. Rokel's voice was neutral, but V'Ran detected a reserve that indicated the visit hadn't been all pleasant. V"Ran could imagine Kirak's family not being all too pleased to have a Human in the family.

V'Ran continued with his explanation. "This symbol stands for strength, or kirak in Vulcan," he pointed at the symbol in the middle. "The symbols above him are his forefather and foremother, the small line between them means they were married. Kirak is of course married to this person, symbolized with short strokes like rain and a double line. Its means solid, from the word lesau, and indicates his wife, T'Les."

Rokel grinned. "You forget my favorite," he said, running with his finger over the characters of his wife's name. 'The line under a circle means the sun shining on the desert together with the flower, and symbolizes the desert flower, Polau. I love the idea that T'Pol's name means desert flower. And those are the characters of blue, eyes and male. That's me. My official Earth name means male."

V'Ran pointed to the last three symbols. "Those three flowers under you and T'Pol seemed to indicate… children."

Rokel sighed. "Lorian, he is far away. Elizabeth… we lost her six years ago. And that small one…T'Pol had a miscarriage."

V'Ran understood his sorrow. His son Kel had died at age 5 in a shuttle accident. It had been 55 years ago, but he remembered his son if it had been yesterday. "I grieve with you," he responded.

"Thank you," Rokel replied.

V'Ran changed the subject and gave the medallion back to Rokel. "It's yours. You would be wise to keep it always out of sight. You don't want the guards or anyone else to see it or to get their hands on it."

Rokel nodded, quickly got the necklace on, and hid it under his shirt. As he was busy doing that, V'Ran said, "Your marriage to T'Pol must be well known and well documented. She is from an important Vulcan clan and you're a Human. Maybe it has changed in my absence, but I assume there wouldn't be many Vulcan-Human couples in the universe."

Rokel gave him a painful smile. "There are a few. But not a lot of people on Earth and Vulcan know that T'Pol is my wife."

"I don't understand," he responded, confused.

"It's a long and complex story," Rokel answered, in such a matter that V'Ran didn't want to ask any further. Still he found it necessary to warn Rokel. "The enemies of Kirak must know of your marriage to T'Pol," he argued. "Why else would they plant a rovotkau insect in your brain? It must have been for no other reason than to block your bond with T'Pol."

"Yes, they wanted to block my bond with T'Pol, so they must know about our marriage. They also must have knowledge about the bond and how to block it," Rokel agreed. "But why would the enemies of my father-in-law care about T'Pol and me? He's long gone; T'Pol lost her father about 40 years ago."

V'Ran nodded. "That's correct; Captain Kirak became a Romulan slave four decades ago."

Rokel looked at him, unbelief written on his face. "You know him? He didn't die 40 years ago? He is alive?"

"Kirak was very much alive when I met him the last time. That was 10 years ago," he told Rokel. "And I must warn you: your connection to him puts you in danger, Rokel. I think it's the reason why you're imprisoned."

"Why should my relationship with T'Pol's father put me in danger?" Rokel asked. His questions were not without logic. "You told me he was a slave. Even when he was alive he could hardly pose a threat to the Romulans."

He had to correct Rokel's assumption. "Skil-tor ahkh svi'kashkau t'ausutra," he quoted in Vulcan. "Do you know what that means?"

Rokel's face had turned pale when he heard the Vulcan words. "I have heard that expression before", he said, "From a dying man who was investigating a Romulan spy. It means "The war is won in the minds of the people."

"Ideas can be powerful, Rokel," V'Ran told him. "Captain Kirak is indeed a slave, but his ideas are followed by a small group of people. It has made him a wanted man and a feared enemy of the Romulan Empire. You should be very careful."

Part four

2161 – Present – San Francisco, Earth

Starfleet Headquarters

Silver. As Jon walked into his office his eyes fell on a silvery colored magazine lying on his desk next to row of PADDs. He picked it and saw it was the newest edition of the Science Monitor. He knew the magazine; it was one of the leading scientific magazines, with a paper edition read by around a million people and a digital version with over 10 million readers. To his surprise there was a note attached to the magazine. On the note in elegant and precise handwriting, the words "Please read this" were written.

He had seen this writing before. It could have come from no one other than his former XO, T'Pol.

He hadn't spoken to or seen T'Pol since she'd gone off the radar. This was her first attempt to communicate with him. All kind of questions went through his mind, from how she had managed to come into his office unseen and place this magazine on his desk to why she wanted him to read this magazine.

Jon quickly took a seat and began to turn the pages. There were a couple of very interesting articles about the newest space ship armory technology and some new medical achievements, but the article that got his attention was a story about Trip. Without a doubt that had to be the article T'Pol wanted him to read.

Soon he found himself engrossed by the story about Trip's scientific achievements. He was pleased that someone had finally taken in interest in that side of Trip, instead of the nonsense stories he had read elsewhere. Trip had been a great Starfleet officer, his best friend, and a rock during the war. His improvements during the war had helped Starfleet win the war. Trip deserved some credit for that, and it seemed like the journalist, a certain Henry Dubois, seem to have recognized that. It was a well written piece and he enjoyed reading it.

At the end of the story, he was surprised to find an interview with T'Pol. Jon swallowed. The picture next to the text spoke more than a thousand words. T'Pol was grieving over Trip. Why hadn't he seen it the last time they spoke?

He knew the answer: because he felt guilty over Trip's death. He shouldn't be. It had been his job as Starfleet captain to assign Trip to the mission. Trip had accepted it, including the risk he was taking. Jon had been aware it would be a difficult mission, but he had never thought it would lead to Trip's death.

Jon continued reading, but not for long. In a sub-sentence the writer expressed his surprise that not only had Starfleet hardly given credit to Trip for his achievements after his death, but also that Jon, a close friend of Trip, had shown so little emotion about his death.

The words hit Jon like a brick. "He couldn't be more wrong," he muttered beneath his breath. He pushed his chair away, got up, and started to pace.

He got mad at T'Pol. Why had she wanted him to read this article? Did she really think he didn't care about Trip's death? He'd had a hard time understanding T'Pol the last few weeks. She had acted so strangely after he had told the crew that Trip had died in an incident. Trip and T'Pol seemed to have their own special way of communicating and he had no doubt that Trip had told her about the mission. Yet, after his death she'd acted like she had no clue what happened. He was tempted to tell her, but his strict orders not to share the mission with anyone had stopped him. Instead, he had tried to reach out to her and give her some comfort.

She had been so unresponsive. He remembered that just before he had made that speech about the Coalition charter he had spoken to her. At the end of their talk– seeing her loneliness behind that Vulcan facade – he'd given her a friendly hug. She had stiffened under his embrace. She didn't want his friendship. He never would understand her.

Maybe it would have been much better if he just had told her the truth: that Trip was sent on an important secret mission, and that he hadn't been in contact with Trip, not until Starfleet Intelligence reported that they had found Trip's vessel.

Or what was left of it.

The first images Jon had gotten from the site were of Trip's vessel, blown into pieces. In the debris they had found parts of the warp core, exploded from inside out. A small scientific team had examined the site and gathered the debris. They had found Trip's DNA on almost every piece. According to the team leader Trip had been very close to the warp core when it exploded. No man could have survived. The mission had been a complete failure.

Trip had gone on the mission because he wanted to clear T'Pol's name. Would he have known that for Jon the mission was also of utmost importance? It had been the only means to get his father Henry Archer absolved.

His father… Jon's head started to pound again, the familiar beginning of his headaches. He rummaged in his drawer and took out some pills. Then he walked to his closet to find a bottle of bourbon. He got some water, swallowed the pills, and washed the awful taste away with some bourbon.

He felt much better now.

He tried very much not to think about the moment his headaches and his nightmare had begun. But his thoughts were hard to stop.

It all started with the war. Or more precisely after the war, when everybody he knew tried to cope with the war and the new life that lay ahead for them. He should have been happy; Starfleet had won a bloody war and saved Earth from Romulan rule. But he wasn't.

As a captain he couldn't let his mood interfere with his job. No one noticed that anything was different with him.

However, alone in his cabin, with only Porthos as his company, he only wanted to lie on his bunk and stare at the ceiling.

He thought of Erika, who he had lost in the first year of the war. She had been his friend and lover, but also a great listener. She had been the only person he could open up to. After she was gone, it seemed like there was no one he could turn to.

No even Trip. After a couple of rough patches in their relationship, they had become good friends again. But the confusion and pain he felt after Erika's death – he kept them inside.

Deep inside he wanted to leave his life as a captain, as the only thing that kept him going was his sense of duty to Starfleet and his crew. But his father had taught him to finish what you started, so he stayed at his post.

It was on one of those nights in his cabin that Admiral Black paid him a visit. Enterprise was traveling back from Andoria to Earth. Admiral Black, who had paid a visit to the Imperial government, traveled with them. He and Black had spoken shortly before, so he was surprised that Black appeared on his doorstep.

After he invited him in, Black closed the door and took a seat. "Have you forgotten something, Admiral?" Jon asked.

Black looked uncomfortable. "I'm here because I'm an old friend of your father I feel it's my responsibility to share this information first with you…" He paused and looked at his hands. "Before I let Starfleet Intelligence investigate some data that has been sent to my communications officer."

"What data are you talking about, Admiral?" Jon asked, suppressing his rising feeling of unrest.

"Do you know the planet Tikari, captain? It's in the Dosa system. It used to be a Romulan ruled planet, but they abandoned the planet during the war. In their old offices most data were erased or destroyed, but we did find several interesting documents that will help us understand the Romulans better," Black said. He paused. "We also discovered one data file containing information about your father."

Jon shrugged, not impressed by this news. "I'm sure the Romulans have data on everyone who worked on the warp project. They probably have files on every one in Starfleet."

Black shook his head. "That's true, no doubt, but this is different. The data showed that one and a half year before his death, your father was contacted by an alien. That person worked for the Romulans and offered your father information about new technology that would benefit his warp project. In exchange your father had to give all kind of information about Earth," Black took out a PADD and gave it to him. "It's all here. I had it checked and checked over again, but it seems the real thing. What makes it worse, your father did make a significant breakthrough in his research almost right after the time when this would have taken place."

"My father would never do that, Admiral," Jon said firmly. "He would have worked himself to death before betraying Earth like this. His passion was the warp project, and he wanted it to succeed, but not with the help of some unknown aliens." While he spoke, doubt crept into his mind. Jon didn't show it, but he couldn't help thinking about his father's hostility against Vulcans and the madness that sometimes had plagued him during that horrible last year that he lived.

Jon returned the PADD to Black. When he spoke to Black he was also trying to convince himself. "They're all lies. Lies, Admiral." His father wasn't a traitor. He had been a man with strong convictions and a great moral code, a rock, a genius of his time, and a wonderful father.

"I agree with you, Captain and we will keep this a secret until we have proven that these documents have be falsified," Black assured him. "It won't be easy, but I have everyone on my team working around the clock to get this past us as soon as possible. We can't have a scandal now about your father. Not with you as Starfleet's first candidate for president of the Coalition."

Jon had been asked to present himself for the position of president; after long consideration he had told Starfleet he was ready. Daniels had told him he would be an important man in the history of Earth and those words had made a great impact on him. But Jon was perfectly aware that part of his career was based on the fact that he was Henry Archer's son. Having a scandal about his father wouldn't just ruin his legacy and image people had of him, but would also hurt Jon's good name.

Black put the PADD back in his pocket and held out a hand. "You have my word, Jon; I will do everything to clear your father's name."

Jon took the hand and shook it. "Thanks, Admiral. I can't tell how much I appreciate you helping me."

At first Jon had been grateful for Black's help, certainly after he had studied the data himself and realized how damaging it would be if the information got out. But later he felt trapped by the situation, held back by Admiral Black. It was almost as if Black was pulling the strings; Jon hated that feeling.

As if his father's name being smeared wasn't enough, the next thing that he was confronted with was another discovery from the Tikari data concerning T'Pol. The first moments after he had heard the news he had been taken aback at the word that T'Pol might have sold technological data to the Romulans in exchange for information about the whereabouts of her father, who had disappeared years ago. Jon and T'Pol weren't close anymore, but he didn't believe she would ever do such a thing. On top of that, the story came from the same data source that had incriminated his father. The stories were so similar that he had no doubt someone had tampered with the information files on Tikari.

Trip was send to the planet to investigate the data. Jon had great hopes that not only would Trip find evidence that the accusations against T'Pol were false, but also that he would find information that would clear his father's name.

But the mission went completely wrong, leaving Trip dead and T'Pol estranged from him, sending him a magazine with the clear message she didn't want anything to do with him anymore.

Anger filled him. The whole situation was such a mess. Enraged, he grabbed the magazine, ready to tear out the pages with the interview or T'Pol. Then he saw in the corner of his eye that T'Pol had placed a marker on one of the pages. His fury flooded away. He opened the magazine at the marked page. It was an article about warp technology, an article about his father, also written by this Henry Dubois.

Eagerly, he started to read. It was a wonderful story, full of details about his father's earlier career, his first setbacks and breakthroughs. On the fifth page of the article several pictures were to be seen of the pioneer of warp technology: Zephram Cochran, one of his father, and a picture of his father's first team. His eyes went over the caption of that last picture: Henry Archer, Sima Qian, John Singh, Charles Levi, Hensenius ("Hank")Black, and Aimeka Sato.

He stopped reading. Hensenius Black. There weren't many people with the same unique first name as Admiral Black. Jon studied the face on the picture. It was him: Admiral Black in his younger years. He had seen that face before, many years ago when his father was still alive.

He closed his eyes and concentrated. A memory of his childhood days came to his mind. He saw himself, 12 years old, sitting in that waiting room, his eyes fixed on his father's hospital door. A couple came out the door. They were Hank Black and Ellen Tenson. Hank had his arm around her.

He opened his eyes again. Ellen Tenson wasn't just anyone. She had become an assistant to former President Samuels, a Senator and Starfleet Liaison for Vulcan affairs , and had been unmasked as Romulan spy, leaving a trail of destruction behind her

It daunted him. Black had been more than friends with her in the past. That was odd, considering the fact that Black had led the investigation after Tenson had been unmasked and managed to escape.

All of a sudden he looked differently at Black. Jon had trusted him completely. But all those accusations, all that evidence against his father and T'Pol came from Black's people. It was strong evidence, almost impossible to contradict. But what if Black had a hand in all this? What if Tenson hadn't been alone, what if she had a helper in the person of Black – and he was still active, destroying everything in his path so the Romulans could benefit?

His head was spinning and his headache returned in full force. Jon decided to take a nap in his office and then to return home. He lay down on the small couch in his office and dozed off.

He was awakened by the soft buzz of his comm system. Still drowsy, he turned it on. A distorted black and white image came into view. Still, he recognized the person at once: T'Pol.

"Captain," T'Pol's clear voice said.

"Why are you contacting me, T'Pol?" Jon interrupted her. "You should turn yourself in and let Starfleet investigate those accusations against you. We all know they're false."

"I contacted you because we need to talk, Captain."

He threw his hands in the air. "The time to talk is over, T'Pol." He took the Science Monitor with his silvery cover from his desk and waved it in front of the screen. "Why did you send me this magazine? What do you want from me?"

He saw T'Pol blink when he held up the magazine. "I don't know about a magazine, Captain," she retorted. "And I didn't think there was a time limit on our friendship."

Her words about their friendship meant more to him than he had expected, and he became calmer. "So what do you want," he asked again.

"I want to talk to you, Captain. According to Starfleet records, Commander Charles Tucker the Third died two weeks ago, but the records are incorrect," she said in a neutral voice. Before he could say anything back to her, she looked him straight in the face and said, in an almost Trip-like fashion "And you are going to help me prove it."