The planet was nothing like Earth. Leaning with his forearm on his ready room's porthole, Archer looked at the largely blue portion of its sphere that Enterprise was cruising over, in its orbit around it. Fresh water covered much of this world, and he could see why it might be coveted by people living on planets threatened by drought. What he could not understand was why the two rival species needed to fight tooth and nail over it. Surely here was enough water for everyone? Yet the Shinxes and the Ravajas had been at it for the past few months. The planet stood smack in the middle between their home worlds. Many small islands peppered the planet's surface. It was the single bigger one, virtually a small continent, that both species coveted, though. That bigger island was where Archer was headed: to a large military structure the Shinxes had erected in the past months, which was going to be the set for a mediation which did not promise to be easy.
The doorbell rang and Archer turned around. "Come," he said. Unexpectedly, it was Trip. "Commander?" Archer asked, uncertain of the reason for this visit.
Trip took a step inside and let the door swish closed. He wrung his hands. "Capt'n, I'm not comfortable with havin' ya go down without security," he said outright. "Why don't you take Müller with you, instead of T'Pol..."
Archer leaned back against his desk. "I appreciate your concern, Trip," he said, "but I feel it's better if I go without security, to help win the trust of both sides." The expression on his friend's face, though, told him that the words had done nothing to reassure him. "Look, we'll be fine. And if I see that things take a bad turn, there's always the transporter."
"As if we could count on that," Trip muttered. "Things usually go awry before you can transport anyone out."
The doorbell rang again, and Trip moved aside to make room for whoever that was. As it turned out, it was their CMO.
Archer frowned in concern. "Doctor," he said, "is it Malcolm?"
"No, Captain. Lieutenant Reed, as far as I can tell, is perfectly all right." Phlox's very blue eyes shifted from Archer to Trip and back again.
"I'll be going, then, Capt'n," Trip said, seeming to feel he should give them some privacy.
"Actually, Commander, perhaps you too had better hear what I've come to say," the Doctor stopped him. He turned to Archer. "Subcommander T'Pol has come down with a bout of labyrinthitis," he said straight out, "due to an infection of the ear she probably caught from those colourful aliens. I'm afraid she won't be up to accompanying you on your mission, Captain."
Archer narrowed his eyes. "Is it serious? Can it spread to the crew?"
"No, Captain!" the Denobulan reassured him, in a singing tone. "And with treatment and rest she'll get over it quickly enough. However, due to the Vulcans' hearing apparatus, labyrinthitis is a particularly debilitating ailment for her species. Her balance is completely off."
Archer filled his lungs with air and slowly blew it out. "Wonderful."
"I'm sorry to be the harbinger of bad news, but perhaps the Commander could take her place on the incoming mission?" Phlox suggested, casting an encouraging glance in Trip's direction.
Archer pursed his lips in thought. "If T'Pol is incapacitated, I need Trip on the Bridge," he reasoned. "He'll be Acting Captain while I'm away. She couldn't have chosen a better time, to come down with something," he muttered on. "Maybe I should just go myself."
Phlox's chin jerked back in that characteristic disapproving way of his. "Now, now, Captain. I'm sure you're aware that the Starfleet rulebook forbids a captain to leave their ship unaccompanied."
Archer clenched his jaw. "Perhaps Hoshi, then. She's a linguist, she'll probably jump at the occasion…"
"Capt'n, if you can't take T'Pol, take security," Trip insisted. "'Sides, courtesy of the Vulcans' database, Hoshi has upgraded UTs with the languages of those two species. You won't really need her."
Archer considered the words for a moment. He then turned to his CMO. "Tell me about Malcolm."
Phlox shrugged. "There's nothing to tell, really. I'm puzzled. He's checked out fine in every test that I've given him. In any case, ever since he was placed off duty a couple of days ago, he hasn't experienced any more of those strange visions."
Archer returned to look out of the porthole, giving his back to the other two men. "Müller is a fine officer, don't get me wrong," he said at length, almost to himself, "but he's so young, and there's a lot to be said about experience in tricky diplomatic situations."
"Can't you take both?" Trip wondered.
Jon turned about "No. Only two representatives of each species are admitted. I'd feel more comfortable taking Reed with me." He bore into Phlox's intelligent gaze. "Doctor?"
The corners of Phlox's mouth turned down pensively. "Medically speaking he's perfectly fine," he said. "Of course, there might be problems that I'm unable to detect."
Archer thought for a moment longer, then took the plunge. "Well, I'll take my chances with Malcolm," he decided. "Dismissed, Gentlemen."
And as Phlox and Trip left, he reached for the comm. to inform his Security Officer that he was back on duty.
Trip opened the hatch to the Armoury and took a peek inside. Malcolm was checking the charge of his phase pistol. He did not turn to the sound of someone entering, his focus entirely on what he was doing, although Trip was quite sure that he was still aware of his presence. Trip approached, unsure exactly what he had come to say.
"Commander," Malcolm curtly greeted, with a quick glance when Trip was a couple of steps away.
"I see you're packing light," Trip quipped, taking in the microcharges and four extra charges that were on the desk before Reed.
"Have you been talking to the Captain?" Reed wondered wryly. "Believe me," he went on rather grimly, "I am packing light. The Captain insisted that we should keep a low profile."
Trip took in the tension that exuded from Malcolm's body and a knot of worry formed in his stomach. "Ah, you'll do fine, Malcolm," he blurted out before he could stop himself. He half expected another droll retort, something along the lines of Easy for you to say, but instead Reed hinted at a smile and said, "Thanks for the vote of confidence." He grabbed a couple of extra charges and began to stuff them into his pockets with deliberate focus. He then lifted undecipherable eyes on Trip and gave a military nod, turning to leave.
"Hold on, Malcolm," Trip said, grabbing his arm.
"The Captain is waiting for me, Commander," the man reminded him.
"Yeah, I know…" Trip jerked his head to the side. "Listen, do me a favour, and if you get any of those visions… just disregard them and concentrate on what Lieutenant Reed would do."
Malcolm's eyebrows shot up briefly. "That's the plan," he huffed out. And with another, final nod, he broke free and headed for the docking bay.
The mood in the Shuttlepod was not what you'd call relaxed. Not for the first time, Archer wondered what it was about himself that put Reed so ill at ease. Probably just the fact that he was his commanding officer. Like all military men, Malcolm was very mindful of the chain of command.
Hearing the man clear his throat, he turned to glance at him. "Any… vibes, before we land, Lieutenant?" he asked with a defusing smile.
"No, Sir." Reed cleared his throat again. "I wouldn't mind going over the situation we are going to find down there again, Captain." Awkwardly, he added, "I didn't… have much time to prepare for this mission."
"I know, and I apologise for that," Jon replied. "Things took more than one unexpected turn over the past few days." He returned his focus to the planet, making a small correction to their course, and wondered if he had made the right decision in bringing this man along. To be honest, he would not have minded having T'Pol and her diplomatic experience at his side in this mission, instead of security. Swivelling in his chair again, he cast another a quick look back. "In a nutshell, two species, the Ravajas and the Shinxes – both quite determined – and one planet in contention."
"Yes. Pardon my asking, Sir, but where do we come into the equation?" Reed wondered.
Archer shrugged. "It does seem that we're a bit new out here for this sort of diplomatic mission," he agreed. "The truth? As far as I'm concerned, either the Vulcans really believe that I am likely to succeed, or they hope that I will fail. It's no secret what Soval thinks of us humans taking to the stars."
"Permission to speak freely, Sir?" Reed asked. And when Jon nodded he went on, "No offence, Captain, but it's more likely the second: they want us to fail, so that they can prove that we aren't ready for space travel."
Jon chuckled. "I wouldn't be surprised. That's why we need to try our best to succeed."
They travelled in silence for a few minutes.
"So… there will only be six people around the table, correct?" Reed enquired.
There was an edge to Malcolm's voice. Jon began to feel a bit guilty to have thrown him into the fray so abruptly. "Yes," he replied, "only two people from each delegation. The place has been declared a neutral zone, no military presence on the planet. It ought to be pretty safe, really." He turned to cast a wary glance at the phase pistol hanging from Malcolm's side. "Therefore, I'd rather you didn't make that weapon conspicuous, Lieutenant."
"Sir, the point of me being here is to be able to avert any possible danger," Malcolm parried. "Without a weapon…"
"I know, I know." Jon allowed himself a wince, knowing that Malcolm could not see it. "But try to keep it out of sight."
"Aye, Sir," Reed replied, sounding rather displeased.
