3. The Lose-Lose Scenario

Archer came into sickbay at 0300 ship's time, and found Phlox peering through a microscope, wide awake and humming happily. He straightened and turned as the doors slid open, and greeted the Captain in a voice far too chipper for the hour. "Well, hello Captain! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Archer leaned against a counter, blinking determinedly, trying to clear his vision. It was intensely annoying to feel as if he were about to keel over, and yet not be able to sleep a wink. "You're the only other person on the ship who's awake, that doesn't have to be."

"Well, that isn't technically true," Phlox said. "My duty schedule is adapted to account for my physiologic needs, and I am 'on duty' right now."

Archer glanced at the microscope, and the array of prepared slides scattered around it. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Oh, no, nothing critical. I am all yours, if you need me." Phlox began cleaning up his slides, placing them carefully in a storage box.

"Just couldn't sleep, and wanted some company," Archer said.

Phlox closed the box and slid it into a rack behind the microscope. "I'm due for a dinner break," he suggested. "Perhaps you'd like to accompany me to the mess hall, where we can sit more comfortably?"

"Sure," Archer said, and followed Phlox out.

In the empty mess hall, Archer sat with a cup of decaf while Phlox selected a sandwich and a slice of pie from the stasis unit. "So, Captain," Phlox said, sitting down with his food. "What is keeping you awake at the nadir of your circadian cycle?"

"The usual," Archer said, fighting the urge to lay his head down on the table and fall asleep. If he couldn't sleep in his own bed, he wasn't going to allow himself to sleep instead slumped over a table in the mess hall. What would that do to morale? Just think of the rumors. They would probably involve lots of Andorian ale. Which actually didn't sound like a half-bad idea right now. Maybe a little Andorian ale would help with the sleeping. Although Phlox would disapprove.

"Nightmares again?"

Archer nodded. The escalating tensions with the Romulans were weighing heavily on him. Insomnia and nightmares were among his most difficult symptoms.

"What is it this time?"

"The Illyrians." Archer said, cradling his coffee. His voice was rough — too much emotion; too little sleep. "I can still see their captain's face, when he asked me why I was doing this."

"You did it because you felt you had no better choice."

"Before we went into the Expanse, I would have insisted that there is always a right choice and a wrong choice, and a good man should always make the right choice."

For a moment, Archer thought Phlox was going to try again to talk him into a course of medication that would relieve his symptoms somewhat. But Archer didn't want to stop feeling guilty about the Illyrians. He didn't really want his symptoms relieved, at least not that easily.

But Phlox didn't go down that road. "Tell me, then," the doctor said, "What was the 'right choice' that you should have made on that occasion?"

"There wasn't a right choice," Archer replied. "It wouldn't have been right to lose what was probably our only chance to save Earth. And it wasn't right to take the Illyrians' warp coil. Both choices were wrong."

"If you learned anything in the Expanse," Phlox said, "surely it was that not all choices are right-wrong, or win-lose. Sometimes the only choices are bad ones. Sometimes all of your options are lose-lose."

"I wish someone had told me that before we ever went into the Expanse," Archer said bitterly.

Phlox considered. "You are concerned that there will be war with the Romulans."

"It's a virtual certainty. The question is, can we put together an alliance that will hold against them?"

"And you are concerned that there will be others who are not prepared for the toll it takes, having to make these best-of-a-bad-set-of-options kinds of choices."

Archer nodded.

"Well. Perhaps you will be the one to find a way to teach them that lesson, so that they will be prepared when they do encounter those circumstances," Phlox said.

"Maybe you're right, doctor."

"Hmmm….Captain."

"Yes?"

"I think there's another important lesson to be learned here."

"What's that?"

"Everyone makes regrettable decisions sometimes, even in situations where there is a clear right choice and wrong choice," Phlox said. "None of us can claim that we do not. The question after that becomes, will we let those regrets poison us, so that we descend into increasingly selfish and destructive choices, or not?"

Archer looked over his coffee cup at Phlox. The doctor looked so alert. Archer's eyes were gritty and sore, and his body ached with weariness. He tried to make sense of what Phlox was trying to tell him, but thinking was increasingly difficult.

"I think the only way to prevent it is to learn to forgive ourselves," Phlox said, "and let it teach us to forgive others when we find them wanting."

"That sounds awfully pat," Archer said.

"Only until you try to put it into practice," Phlox said.

Archer stared down at the table, and then abruptly pushed himself to his feet. "Maybe you're right, doctor," he said a second time. Maybe not, but Archer was too exhausted to sort it out right now.

"Good night, Captain."

Archer tossed his coffee cup in the recycler. "Good night, Phlox."

He went back to bed. And finally, he slept.