A/N: As usual, thanks for the reviews! They are much appreciated.

CHAPTER 18

Archer hadn't forgotten about Sato. To the contrary, as he issued a flurry of orders to the bridge crew, he acknowledged to himself that she was turning out to be more valuable than he could ever have imagined. What he wouldn't give to have her on the bridge around the clock. Unfortunately, that wasn't feasible. She was, after all, human, and humans had to have breaks to sleep and eat. But he could bump her up to full-time status on the bridge. She could translate transmissions as they were picked up, instead of processing an entire day's worth each morning. There would be no more lounging around all afternoon in her quarters, at least until this crisis was past.

Archer's expression hardened as his gaze fell on the communications console, where Freeman was sending encrypted messages to Imperial fleet command and any fleet ships in the area. He had seen the officer shove Sato out of his chair. Archer hadn't reprimanded the man because, frankly, he had been occupied with more important things. If Sato were an Imperial fleet officer, Archer would have assigned her right then and there to take Freeman's place permanently as lead comm officer. As it was, Freeman might still be assigned to galley duty or scrubbing the plasma conduits if he failed to catch anything else of importance.

Satisfied that preparations were underway to make Enterprise ready to confront the Andorians, Archer resumed his seat in the command chair and watched his people work. The helmsman in front of him was trying to coax any extra speed out of the warp engine, and doing a good job at it; Tucker had already called the bridge to complain about the strain on the engine. T'Pol was taking readings with the long-range sensors, trying to pick up any information from the area around Panmikar, although it was going to be early the next day before they would be in range to pick up anything useful. Reed, his anticipation mounting at the prospect of a fight, was gleefully prepping the weapons systems, issuing almost as many orders to his armory staff as Archer had to the bridge crew.

A glance behind him at the auxiliary stations showed that Sato was again working on translations. The slight slump of her shoulders bothered him, though. She should be proud of what she'd just accomplished; instead, she was sitting there like a kicked puppy. Obviously the humans of her universe were too sensitive. She'd have to learn to be strong if she was going to survive in his.

Still, he needed to show her that he appreciated what she'd done, if only to encourage her to continue. He let his gaze roam one more time around the bridge. Everyone was hard at work. He got to his feet, climbed the two stairs to the upper level, and approached her. She didn't look up.

"Ms. Sato," he said.

She kept her gaze on the controls on her console, despite him standing right next to her. "Yes?"

"Hoshi," he said softly.

Now she did look up, mostly in surprise at his use of her first name, but there was something else there too. It wasn't the humiliation he'd expected to see caused by Freeman's treatment of her. No, it was more a vulnerability, an awareness that she was different from everyone else on the bridge. Well, of course she was different. Not that she was from a parallel universe so much, but that she'd done something no one else had managed. In doing so, she had given the empire -- and him -- the warning necessary to stop a war before it started. Didn't she realize that?

"Good work," he told her.

The corner of her mouth quirked up into a shy smile. "Thanks." Her gaze held his for a few moments, then faltered, and she looked back to her console. "I need to keep at this."

"That's exactly what I want you to do," Archer told her. "From now on, you have a full duty shift every day. I want you to go over the transmissions as we pick them up. I'll have Freeman route them to this station."

Sato blinked and looked up at him again.

"There's too much at stake to miss any more hidden transmissions, or have mistakes in translations," Archer told her. He looked over at Mayweather, who was standing a stride away. "Your orders have just changed to match her schedule, Corporal."

"Understood, sir," he responded crisply.

Archer looked down at Sato and gave her a nod of approval before moving back to his command chair.

Mayweather found his current duty interesting, although whether it would be a welcome change from his usual job was yet to be seen. He hadn't been on the bridge more than an hour before he'd almost had to act. That slimeball Reed was known to go after anything that was female, but Mayweather had thought he'd at least show a little tact around the captain's woman.

As far as the incident at the comm station, Mayweather knew when to leave well enough alone. His charge hadn't been in any physical danger. It was just Freeman venting his frustration at being bested. Competition was the lifeblood among those in the Imperial fleet. Too bad they didn't have the discipline instilled in combat troops like he did.

If Freeman had tried to follow up his shove with something potentially injurious, Mayweather would have of course stepped in. Still, he wished Sato had shown a little more spunk. She'd acquiesced without a fight. He wasn't used to that. The women aboard Imperial starships usually had more fortitude than what she'd shown.

Bodyguard duty, Mayweather thought dismally, might just turn out to be babysitting duty.

The Andorians were going to make a move against the Terran Empire. Not totally unexpected of the volatile blue-skinned species, T'Pol thought, but the possibility that they might target Vulcan after the Imperial colony gave her much to contemplate. Perhaps they would seek Vulcan as an ally.

Vulcans were a subject species of the Terran Empire, as were the Andorians. Vulcans, however, wouldn't act without the probability of success on their side. Andorians could behave rashly, without thinking out all the possible consequences.

If their aim was to overthrow the empire, she wished them the best. Throwing off the yoke of human oppression was an admirable aim. If they were successful, Vulcan could benefit. But if they failed, they might drag Vulcan down with them.

She looked across the bridge to where Sato sat under Mayweather's watchful eye. The petite human would now need all the protection she could get, despite her status as captain's woman. Between the humans like Freeman who resented her presence because she was more proficient than he was, the men like Reed who would desire her to satisfy his own base instincts, and the aliens on board who secretly wished that the Andorians would succeed and saw her as an obstacle to be eliminated, Sato's chances of survival had lessened considerably with her discovery of the embedded transmission.

It hadn't taken long for Reed to confirm that his department was at readiness. Phase cannons, torpedo launchers, and hull plating were all on standby at maximum parameters. All that firepower under his fingertips was intoxicating. Too bad he had to wait until the captain ordered him to use it.

And use it he would. He was certain of that. The Andorians had long been a thorn in the side of the empire. He was going to relish taking them down a notch or more. Maybe they'd get lucky and get orders from command to exterminate them all.

Too bad his anticipated rendezvous with Sato was going to be put on hold. He could have found an excuse to leave the bridge that afternoon -- not that he would relinquish his bridge position when at any moment they might have a fight on their hands -- but he'd heard Archer tell Sato that she would be on the bridge the entire day. He had to agree with the captain; Sato's skills at translating and her expertise in covert communications shouldn't be wasted. Not now. Not when they had a chance to crush a revolt before it barely had begun.

Still, he could appreciate the view. She was seated to his left, about four meters away, facing the auxiliary console on the aft bulkhead. The new outfit she was wearing, emphasizing her feminine curves, was a welcome distraction. He couldn't wait to peel it off her.

There was the small matter that she didn't want his attention, but he knew how to handle her. He'd dealt with recalcitrant women before. The fact that she was the captain's woman would only prove to be a challenge. He'd had two of them before her, and neither time had Archer been any the wiser.

Hoshi could hardly believe it. The captain had actually thanked her, on the bridge in front of the crew, no less.

True, she had done an excellent job finding and then tracing the embedded transmission, but she'd performed similar tasks many times on her own Enterprise. The difference was that she was fully aware of her abilities, but the captain here wasn't. She'd been careful about what information she volunteered. She still felt like it was wrong to tell the people of this universe anything unless it was absolutely necessary.

But in this case, she'd had to say something. Her conscience wouldn't let her do anything else. Even in the confusing situtation in which she'd found herself, some things were crystal clear. Civilians were civilians no matter where they were, and if she could prevent them from becoming the first casualties in a conflict, she'd had to tell Archer what she'd found. The ghosts of seven million people killed in the unprovoked Xindi attack on her own world demanded that she do everything she could to prevent any unnecessary deaths from happening again.

She was finally able to settle down to her work after Archer had gone back to his command chair. She worked steadily for a time, then shuddered as a movement registered in her peripheral vision. Reed was busy at his console and seemed to have forgotten about her. The tactical officer, so similar in appearance to the one she knew, apparently had none of the civility or morality of his counterpart. For the time being, she was safe from him, the captain having unwittingly provided her with a way to avoid his unwanted attention. She would be on duty for the duration of alpha shift, with a break for lunch, she assumed. She seriously doubted Reed would bother her then, for she would be in the crowded mess with T'Pol, and with Mayweather watching over her. And when she was off duty for the day, she'd be ensconced in the captain's quarters where she didn't think Reed could reach her.

She looked over her shoulder at the main viewscreen, where the stars whipped by in elongated blurs typical at warp speed. Although she wasn't a wizard with higher mathematics, she'd been able to roughly calculate in her head that they would reach Panmikar sometime late the next day.

She didn't like going into battle. It didn't matter if it was here or in her universe. The knot of anxiety that formed in her stomach felt the same in both places.