Daybreak

Daybreak

by ShouldKnowBetter

Summary: Tucker has Enterprise and T’Pol back, but it still seems that Humanity doesn’t stand a cat-in-hell’s chance of survival. Not until the Vulcans decide to get involved, anyway.

Category: a/u

Rating: PG13.

Pen Name: ShouldKnowBetter

Disclaimer:
1. Paramount owns the characters, the Star Trek franchise and the universe. I just use them for my own private, non-profit making amusement.

Author’s Notes:
1. This is a sequel to The Mean Old Vulcan and the MACO and to Ceti Alpha V. (Yes, the ordering is deliberate. I’m indulging my fascination with Soval and Amanda Cole again.)
2. I started this before Season 3 was complete, so T’Pol’s behaviour in the story has nothing to do with Trellium-D. But unless TPTB had seriously undermined her character (for me, anyway), I’d never have dared make her out to be an idiot.
3. Because I started the story so long ago, there are also various other bits and pieces that aren’t consistent with canon.
4. And yet another prejudice of mine runs throughout this story – Humans aren’t the only ones who are capable of saving the universe.

Chapter 1 – The Descent of Man
Chapter 2 – Too Many Damn Problems
Chapter 3 – Low Life
Chapter 4 - Assassin
Chapter 5 – The Way Back
Chapter 6 – On the Edge
Chapter 7 – A Slippery Slope
Chapter 8 – Liar, Liar
Chapter 9 – False Start
Chapter 10 - Genesis
Chapter 11 – One Step Forward
Chapter 12 – Reversal
Chapter 13 - Hijack
Epilogue - Convergence

~~~~~~

Chapter 1 – The Descent of Man

When T’Pol entered the Mess Hall, an hour after that night’s movie had been scheduled to end, she found that her prediction was correct: Enterprise’s captain was seated at one of the restored tables, deeply involved in a discussion with a motley selection of his crew. She sighed faintly as she went to collect a drink. A captain should not socialise with his crew, but there was little point informing Tucker of that. He would simply tell her that the rules had changed and that the crew needed to know that he was there for them – and he would be correct. Illogical it might be, but over the past three months, T’Pol had watched Enterprise’s dedicated crew become visibly happier as their new captain integrated himself into the command structure and into their lives, with his characteristic mix of charm and intelligence, and a touch of cynicism that was new since his year on Ceti Alpha V. She had not appreciated until then how tense the atmosphere had become under Archer’s totalitarian regime, a regime that she had fully supported, believing that strict discipline and firm leadership were the only options in the dangerous world the Xindi had created. Tucker was doing a different and rather more effective job. She just wished that it did not take up quite so much of his time.

“Sub-commander!” Startled out of her reflections, T’Pol’s gaze fell on Sato, who was seated nearby. “Would you care to join me?” The Human woman nodded towards the discussion group, smiling a little. “Unless you want to debate the relative merits of Hope and Crosby.”

T’Pol perched a little cautiously on a chair, wondering why Sato had issued the invitation. Even after many years’ association, few of the crew approached their Vulcan first officer socially.

“You didn’t attend the movie tonight, sub-commander.”

“No.” To T’Pol’s observant gaze, Sato appeared far too focussed for a casual conversation: the communications officer had an agenda. “I do not care for tonight’s genre.” Classic thrillers she found mildly diverting. Classic Westerns were tolerable for certain private reasons. Classic sci-fi and horror sometimes proved interesting if naïve. Classic comedy was intolerable.

Another smile flitted across Sato’s face. “I agree, but at least we have movie night back.” T’Pol remained determinedly silent; Archer had cancelled the weekly event, with the result that it had gone underground, something she had only discovered since Tucker had returned. “It’s good to have Captain Tucker back too.” Again T’Pol did not reply, although Sato left a pause that she evidently hoped would be filled, but the Vulcan woman still had no idea where the conversation was going. “I suppose it must be strange for you, sub-commander. We’ve had him as our captain before, but last time you were both on Enterprise, he was just the chief engineer.”

Sato’s observation was astute. T’Pol did find it strange to know that Tucker could now overrule her if he wished. He had not done so yet, but a professional conflict between them was inevitable at some point. “I do not believe Captain Tucker or Commander Hess would appreciate you describing the position as ‘just’ that of the chief engineer.”

“True.” Finally Sato seemed to accept that an oblique approach to the subject that concerned her was not going to work and came to the point. “Sub-Commander, are you and Captain Tucker doing okay?” T’Pol felt an eyebrow rising and Sato had the grace to blush, but she remained determined. “Only you don’t seem to spend much time together.”

T’Pol suppressed the urge to agree emphatically with the observation. “Why do you ask?”

The Human woman looked away, embarrassed. “We all know why Captain Tucker left Enterprise, sub-commander. We just want to know,” bravely she looked back to meet T’Pol’s outraged stare, “that you’re together now.”

There was no possible – or at least polite – answer that T’Pol could give. Vulcans did not speak of private matters to any but their partners. Although perhaps in retrospect she should not have insisted that Tucker disguise the fact that calls to his cabin were routed through to hers at night. It would have ensured that the crew did not indulge in idle and intrusive speculation.

“What’s up?” Even T’Pol was startled by the question, having been too affronted to notice Tucker’s approach, while Sato jumped guiltily. The captain glanced between the two women, a faint frown forming. “T’Pol?”

He might be out of uniform, but she was aware that it hadn’t been an idle question. Tucker was extremely quick to pick up on tensions amongst his crew – and to diffuse them as fast as possible. “Lieutenant Sato was enquiring into the state of our personal relationship.”

“Excuse me?” The Human woman squirmed under his glare. “What the hell business is it of yours?”

Irrationally calmed now that Tucker was there to share her outrage, T’Pol explained further. “Apparently the crew are concerned that our association is purely professional.”

He glared at her for good measure. “Then what the hell business is it of theirs?”

T’Pol sighed and decided to resolve the situation. If she did not take radical action, it was likely that Tucker would remain in a temper for the rest of the evening, which was not consistent with her plans for him. He certainly wasn’t expecting her reaction as she rose to her feet and demonstrated the nature of their personal relationship by pulling his head down for a lingering kiss. His expression of complete disbelief when she pulled back reminded her sharply of the first time she had kissed him, before she had taken even more direct action to demonstrate that she considered him her property. “Are you ready to leave, captain?”

Tucker managed to close his mouth, although he retained the appearance of a man who had just been deeply shocked. “Maybe we’d better.” He cast a faintly resentful look around the room, where his crew were mainly failing not to laugh. “Before you take it further.” So he too had remembered; T’Pol permitted herself to feel slightly smug about that. “But keeping my crew happy’s a hell of a reason to have to kiss a girl.”

T’Pol was still experiencing gratification at the success of her stratagem when Tucker was hailed urgently from the Bridge.

~

The tension on the Bridge was already palpable when Tucker and T’Pol emerged from the lift, and Hayes looked even sterner than normal as he rose from the command chair. “We’ve received a distress call, captain.” The pause he left was long enough to alert them to the fact that it wasn’t just any distress call. “It’s the Horizon.”

“Put it on.” Tucker slipped into the seat Hayes had vacated, while T’Pol went to the science station to run a sensor sweep, in case her relief had missed anything relevant. But she too raised her head to the view screen when it became obvious that the message had included a visual component.

The image of the young man that formed was noisy, but that didn’t prevent them from seeing that he was scared. “This is the transport vessel Horizon. We’re under attack.” As if to prove his point, the bridge from which he spoke shook, forcing him to grab a chair back for support. “Please, we need help. We’ve children aboard.” There was an explosion to one side and the image broke up, but the verbal appeal continued with increasing desperation. “The Xindi are all around us! This is Captain Paul Mayweather of the transport vessel Horizon. Please help us! Repeat, we’re under …”

The message cut off abruptly, to leave Enterprise’s Bridge in strained silence until Hayes said quietly, “That’s all there is, sir.”

Tucker barely acknowledged the information, leaning forward with his elbows braced on his knees, frowning at the screen.

“Captain, we’re less than an hour from the Horizon’s position at maximum warp.” The helmsman swung around to face the older man, practically pleading; he was Enterprise’s newest crewmember and very young – painfully so, as Tucker had described it to T’Pol. “The course is laid in. Shall I engage, sir?”

“Not yet.” Tucker came abruptly to his feet, swinging towards the command centre almost in the same movement. “T’Pol, Hayes.”

They followed him, almost as perplexed as the helmsman, who protested instinctively. “But, captain …”

“I said, ‘not yet’.” Tucker’s tone was final and he didn’t even glance around, heading straight for the main bank of equipment as the doors closed behind the two who had followed him. By the time they reached him, he had brought up a star chart and superimposed the Horizon’s position on it. “D’you remember the last report Shran forwarded us?” He didn’t wait for a reply, adding another icon to the display. “The Andorians escorted half a dozen Xindi ships out of their territory. That puts them about here a week ago.”

“You believe it is the same group?” T’Pol asked, although it still did not explain why Tucker had not instantly charged to the Horizon’s rescue. The responsibilities of command had forced him to overcome his tendency to take impulsive action, but T’Pol had never known him hold back from danger when lives were at stake.

“I don’t think the Horizon’s the real target.” Tucker turned to face his first officer and T’Pol saw that he was pale with tension. “Travis told us the Xindi have been taking a real keen interest in his itinerary lately.”

Now she understood his reaction. “You think they are looking for the ß-colony.”

“I think they’ve found it.” He turned back to the screen and added a projected course through the two points already marked. It intersected a star system not far beyond the Horizon’s position. “‘The Xindi are all around us.’ They only hunt in packs when there’s a firm target.” He glanced between his two senior officers. “Are you with me?” Hayes took another look at the display and nodded slowly, while T’Pol kept her gaze on Tucker’s face. If she pointed out the flaws in his logic, he would listen, but this was one of those occasions when she suspected that Human intuition had identified the most probable scenario ahead of logic. “T’Pol?”

“Yes.”

He touched her arm lightly in passing as he strode back to the Bridge, to lean over the helm, tapping in a series of numbers. “Set a course for these coordinates and engage, warp 5.”

“Sir!” The helmsman looked up in horror. “The Horizon …”

“Isn’t our primary concern right now.” Determined blue eyes met furious grey ones. “Lay in the course, Ensign Graveney.”

“But, sir, there are over fifty people on the Horizon!” Graveney knew that very well: like Travis Mayweather before him, Enterprise’s helmsman was a boomer. “We can’t …”

“I gave you an order, ensign.” Once Tucker might have shouted. Now his voice was quiet. “Are you gonna obey it, or do I have to relieve you of duty?”

Watching the exchange, T’Pol wondered if Graveney’s youth and Tucker’s usually relaxed command style were going to result in open rebellion, then the young man dropped his head, hands moving over the console before him. “Laying in your required course, sir.”

“What’s our ETA?”

“We should be there in,” there was a slight pause, more to allow Graveney to steady himself than to perform the calculation, “two hours eight minutes, captain.”

Tucker headed for the lift again. “Major, let’s see if we can get those modified torpedoes on-line. T’Pol, try to raise the Intrepid. Tell them a Xindi strike force could be en-route for the colony. I’ll be in the Armoury if you need me.”

~

They came out of warp close enough to the planet to surprise anyone who hadn’t been keeping an eye on long-range scanners, but far enough away to have time for target selection. Tucker didn’t need to ask for a report: both T’Pol and Hayes knew what was required.

“I make it six Xindi ships,” the MACO said crisply, “all concentrating fire on the defenders.”

“The Potomac is drifting, Yorktown and Intrepid are losing hull plating but still have weapons.” T’Pol turned her head to catch Tucker’s eye, tension creeping into her voice. “Liberty is venting plasma and structural integrity is failing.”

“Course 198 mark 214.” Tucker was leaning over the helm, reading coordinates off the display. “Half impulse. Target the Xindi ships’ power grids, major.”

Enterprise dived on the enemy ships circling the crippled Liberty, scoring direct hits, one of which took out its target in a spectacular explosion that rocked the Human ship as it caught the bow wave of the debris field. Graveney whooped and Tucker gave him a stern look.

“Save the celebrations, ensign. Steer 035 mark 164. Bring us under that other ship. Fire.”

The second ship disintegrated and Tucker had just ordered a course change to go to the Intrepid’s assistance when T’Pol said urgently, “Captain!” He looked over sharply and she raised an alarmed gaze to his. “A sub-space corridor is opening.”

“Keep targeting those ships,” he snapped at Hayes, and joined T’Pol, having to grab for a handhold as Enterprise rocked under returning fire for the first time.

On the view screen, another Xindi ship tumbled away, helpless, although Enterprise shook again, overhead power conduits rupturing. Tucker ducked, instinctively shielding T’Pol from the shower of sparks, even as he remained focussed on the scanner output. “Hell.”

“A Xindi weapon ship,” T’Pol confirmed. “A small one.”

“It’s not a big colony,” he muttered. “How long until it’s in position?”

“I cannot tell.”

“Guess!”

Even for her, his tone didn’t leave room for argument. “Perhaps – three minutes.”

Tucker slapped his hand against the console and headed for the command chair. “Hoshi, tell Intrepid to be ready to intercept the weapon. Major, get that damned ship off Intrepid’s tail.” Hayes complied and both Free Human ships turned in a dead run to cut off the probe as it headed for a specific point in the orbit of the planet below them. “Load torpedoes, maximum yield.”

“The remaining Xindi ships are breaking off their attack on Potomac to follow us,” T’Pol reported, and Tucker shook his head.

“Ignore them.” Ignoring the incoming fire wasn’t easy, but Enterprise’s crew had become accustomed to being shot at over the years, and if their captain was concerned at the hammering the ship was taking, he gave no sign of it. “Time to intercept?”

“Ninety seconds.” Hayes was glued to the tactical station.

“Intrepid has lost engines.” T’Pol raised her head to ensure she had Tucker’s attention. “I estimate three minutes until our hull plating fails.”

“How long until the probe fires?”

“One hundred twenty seconds.”

Tucker hit the comm. button on the arm of his chair. “Bridge to Engineering. Divert all spare power, including life support, to structural integrity generators.” He bounced to his feet to lean over the helm again, gripping the back of the chair to stay upright: T’Pol had warned him that he would break his neck one day, but he continued to ignore her advice. “Bring us over the probe, then reverse course by 180o and hold position.”

“Ay, sir.” The young man didn’t sound happy at the order, but had learnt not to argue in a crisis.

“Major, hold your fire until we’ve reversed course.”

“If we’re still in one piece,” the man growled and Tucker spared him a brief grin.

“She’s a good ship. Trust me on that one.”

Then they all had to clutch at chairs and consoles as Graveney flung Enterprise into a curve her original designers hadn’t addressed in their simulations. More power conduits failed under the stress of the manoeuvre, then they were directly in the probe’s path, the opening maw of the device only a few thousand metres dead ahead.

“Fire!”

A full salvo of torpedoes raced away, impacting the probe only a few seconds later. The results were spectacular. Most of the way through its arming sequence, the energy that would have devastated the colony below was released internally, ripping the probe apart and sending out a lethal ring of debris and radiation.

Enterprise was caught in the backlash, tumbling until Graveney managed to regain helm control and stabilised their flight path, giving the Bridge crew time to catch their breath. “Good work.” Tucker punched the young man’s shoulder briefly in passing as he scrambled back to the command chair. “T’Pol, where are the Xindi?”

Even the Vulcan woman was breathing quickly as she assessed the situation. “All but one of their ships has been disabled or destroyed. That one is attempting to escape.”

“Lay in a pursuit course, maximum impulse.” Tucker didn’t hesitate. “Hoshi, is the jamming field around the system still in place?”

She nodded, glancing up at him with seeming reluctance. “Ay, sir.”

“Fire when you’re ready, Major Hayes.”

It was over within seconds as the fleeing Xindi ship disintegrated and Tucker leant back with a faint sigh, not turning as Hayes said approvingly, “Good weapon mod.s, captain.”

“Yeah, we’re getting real good at this.” T’Pol looked up sharply at the resigned bitterness in his tone, even as he straightened, professional again. “Damage report?”

“Numerous reports of minor damage, but all major systems are still on-line. No fatalities.”

“The Intrepid’s hailing us, sir,” Sato put in and Tucker rose to his feet.

“Put them on.”

The image of an older man formed, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. “Where the hell were you, Captain Tucker?”

Tucker’s mouth tightened. “We got here as fast as we could, Captain Gonzales.”

“You’re supposed to be part of the security cordon! You’re supposed to prevent this sort of attack.”

“Then maybe we should rethink our intelligence gathering.”

“Of course, you’re an expert on that!”

Muscles shifted along Tucker’s jaw, as his tongue teased the inside of his cheek. “It’s a suggestion.”

“Just stick to your orders, captain. Leave the strategy to those of us who stayed loyal.”

“D’you need help with your repairs?”

“No.”

“Then, Captain Gonzales, Enterprise’ll follow her orders – we’ve got a distress call to answer.” Sato cut the channel in response to Tucker’s curt gesture and he sunk into the command chair again, his face a mask of barely suppressed anger. “Lay in a course for the Horizon’s last known position. Warp 5.”

Around him, the Bridge crew kept quiet. There really wasn’t anything to be said when it had once again been made clear that, however much loyalty and liking Enterprise’s captain might command from his own crew, the rest of the Free Human leadership still considered him an unreliable outsider.

~

“Come.” Tucker glanced up as the ready room door opened in response to his brief command, leaning his head against the high back of his chair as T’Pol came to stand over him, hands clasped behind her. “Are you gonna tell me that I shouldn’t have taken that call on the Bridge?”

“Is it necessary for me to do so?”

His mouth pulled to one side. “I guess I just keep hoping they’ll come around to the idea.” He shook his head abruptly. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, T’Pol. What the hell use am I as Enterprise’s captain if the rest of the Free Humans don’t trust me?”

“You would prefer to return to Earth?”

“No.” He held out a hand and, after a brief hesitation, the Vulcan woman took it, allowing her captain to pull her close enough to rest his hands on her waist. “T’Pol, you know Forrest and the rest only let me come back because there wasn’t anyone else.”

She reached out to stroke his cheek gently. “The crew want you here.”

“What chance do we have against the Xindi if we can’t even agree amongst ourselves?”

Fortunately, T’Pol wasn’t required to answer that one as Sato’s voice came over the comm. “Captain to the Bridge.”

Tucker drew a deep breath and let it out slowly as T’Pol stepped back to give him room to stand, his expression settling back into one of calm determination as he headed for the Bridge. It could have been Archer she was following, except that he had never doubted himself so fiercely.

“We’ve detected the Horizon, captain.” Hayes barely glanced up from his station as Tucker moved to lean on the back of the command chair, while T’Pol crossed to the science station.

“On screen.” Tucker’s mouth tightened as the image appeared, the cargo ship clearly drifting, the damage to her hull easily visible. “Life signs?”

“None that I can detect.” T’Pol’s voice was quiet with regret.

He nodded almost absently. “Major Hayes, put together a security team. We’ll go take a look.”

“Captain.” The helmsman was on his feet, facing Tucker. “Permission to join the away team, sir.”

“Denied.” There was no hesitation whatsoever. “I want us ready to go to warp at the slightest sign of trouble, ensign. That’s an order. T’Pol.”

She followed him into the lift, her head tilting fractionally to one side as she watched him press for the launch bay. “You cannot protect Ensign Graveney indefinitely.”

“I’m not taking an eighteen year old kid into the scene of a massacre.” Tucker sighed. “Not until I have to, anyway.”

“If you are concerned about his youth …”

“We’ve been there, T’Pol. We don’t have a choice, but I still don’t have to like it.”

“Perhaps Admiral Forrest will accept your proposal that suitable candidates be sent to the academy on Vulcan.”

“Yeah. And perhaps the Xindi’ll stop hunting us.” The lift doors opened and Tucker strode out, nodding to the MACO in charge of the assault team as he led the way to the waiting shuttle pod.

~

Many of Horizon’s crew had been killed by the depressurisation when the hull was breached. Those that hadn’t had been systematically slaughtered when Xindi troops boarded the crippled vessel. The away team explored the ship because they felt a moral obligation to be sure no one had survived, but they did it in almost total silence, and T’Pol suspected that the Humans were silently adding every body to their debt against the Xindi. But even she found it impossible to remain unmoved when they reached the nursery, where even the Horizon’s children had been killed. Tucker looked around with the barely suppressed fury she had first seen after the initial attack on Earth, over four years before. “I told Soval we’d win this war, or our children would. We’re not even gonna make it into another generation!”

The MACOs had moved on, still searching, and T’Pol was about to follow them, knowing there was nothing she could say that would reach Tucker when he was so bitterly angry, when her scanner bleeped softly. Startled because she, along with the rest, had given up hope of survivors, she followed the weak signal, releasing the wall panel where it led. “Charles.” She had the baby in her arms by the time he joined her, turning a wide-eyed gaze on him.

He shook his head sadly, stroking a gentle finger over the child’s head. “We’re still dying, T’Pol. There just aren’t enough of us left.”

~

The current HQ of the Free Human movement was a hut constructed out of salvaged plastic; metal was too precious to be wasted on ground-based construction. The relentless drumming of rain on the roof, barely half a metre above Tucker’s head, was shortening his already strained temper, as if the circular debate between Forrest, Gonzales and Decker wasn’t enough for him to bear. No longer able to stand passively to one side, he roamed to the door to look out at the muddy ground beyond. The planet might be capable of sustaining Human life, but it wasn’t a pleasant place to live. That, of course, had been a contributing factor to its selection as the site of Humanity’s second chance: no other race had claimed the planet, which, besides an unpleasant climate, boasted no mineral reserves of any significance. No other race had been desperate enough.

“Captain Tucker!” He turned back to meet Forrest’s frown. “Are you part of this meeting?”

“I wouldn’t know, admiral.” He had lost the will to be diplomatic a long time since. “Am I?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I think Captain Tucker’s referring to the fact that we don’t trust him – with reason.”

Decker’s tone was hostile, and Forrest turned the frown on him. “You’re out of line, Paul. Trip’s been back onside for quite some time now.”

“Really? And which side would that be? The Vulcans? The Xindi?”

Both Gonzales and Forrest got in the way, to prevent Tucker’s aggressive movement towards his fellow captain. “Back off, Trip.” The admiral’s tone was firm. “Paul, that remark calls for an apology.”

“I’m not apologising to any damn traitor.”

“I never betrayed anyone!” Tucker wrenched himself free of the two men restraining him and headed for the door. “I’ll be on Enterprise. You want my opinion?” He looked back from the door, voicing it whether they wanted it or not. “This colony was a mistake. It’s just a nice, soft target for the Xindi to hit, where they can wipe out nine tenths of us in one go. We have to evacuate.”

~

“Charles,” T’Pol was becoming as frustrated as her captain, “it is not your fault that Admiral Forrest and the rest will not listen to you. You did all you could.”

Tucker pulled away from her hands that were moving over his bare back, wrenching himself onto his side to glare at her. “Five billion didn’t die so that I could sit on my butt and say I did all I could!” For a second, their eyes locked, then he came to his feet, grabbing for his sweatshirt, his voice muffled as he pulled it over his head. “I need to do some thinking.” Not quite believing that he was really walking out on her, T’Pol remained on the floor, eyes wide with hurt as she stared after him. He was at the door before he hesitated, half turning back. “I love you, T’Pol. I’m not trying to shut you out. I just,” he paused, shaking his head a little, “I just need some time.”

She nodded fractionally, because there was no other choice, then sat watching the closed door, arms clasped around her bent legs, chin on her knees. If Charles loved her, why did he keep leaving her alone? She needed him, just as she had thought he needed her, but it was becoming clear that all Enterprise’s captain needed was a first officer.

~

A few tables in the Mess Hall were still occupied by small groups in desultory conversation when Tucker entered, but there were plenty of empty ones. Despite that, however, and the fact that he had claimed to need time alone, Enterprise’s captain collected a glass of milk and the inevitable serving of dessert, and headed for the one person sitting by himself.

Graveney jumped nervously when Tucker took the seat opposite, pulling himself up stiffly. “Sir!”

“Relax, ensign.” Tucker broke off a segment of the pie and ate it with something approaching relief. “I swear chef knows when I need a little piece of heaven.” He shot the helmsman a quick look as he attacked the content of his plate again, noted the still rigid pose, and continued talking. “T’Pol says the things chef does with Sash-savas these days shouldn’t be allowed. Me? I reckon the High Command should give him a medal.”

“Captain.” Tucker looked peaceably into Graveney’s resolute face. “I owe you an apology, sir. For my behaviour on the Bridge today.”

“You were doing your job, ensign.”

“I shouldn’t have questioned your orders, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” The captain replaced his fork on the empty plate and picked up his glass, both hands clasping it loosely as he rested his elbows on the table. “I need officers who ask questions, Peter. One day I’m gonna make a mistake. Maybe it’ll be you who spots it.”

“Yes, sir.” Graveney didn’t sound convinced, but Tucker let it lie. “I realise that the colony had to be our priority, captain. It’s just …”

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few.”

There was a hint of mockery in Tucker’s tone and Graveney frowned. “Sir?”

“It’s one of those cute Vulcan sayings they like to quote at you. It’s true – but it doesn’t make the decisions any easier.”

“No, sir.”

Tucker straightened, jerking his head towards the door. “Go to bed, Peter. I need you alert tomorrow.”

“Ay, sir.” The young man rose obediently, but hesitated. “What about you, sir? It’s late …”

“Don’t push your luck, ensign.” Tucker’s smile took the sting out of the rebuke. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, captain.”

Alone, Tucker leant back with a sigh, rubbing his eyes. Graveney was right, he was tired – tired of pretending to his crew that he thought Humanity stood a cat-in-hell’s chance of survival. And he’d only been back in command for three months. At this rate, he’d crack up again. He had thought it would be easier this time around, with T’Pol to keep him sane, but these days she seemed as fragile as he felt. If he was honest about it, none of them were fit for duty by any standard that Starfleet had once applied. They were all indelibly scarred by the events of the last few years, and there were moments when he found himself wondering if the universe would be a better place without the angry, bitter remnant of his species cluttering it up.

With a sigh that was almost a groan, he hoisted himself to his feet. He hadn’t done any thinking, but maybe he had ensured that there was one member of his crew who wouldn’t lie awake tonight. Now he had to go and do the same for T’Pol.

~

Continue to Chapter 2

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