End Of The Long Road? II

End Of The Long Road? II

By Sue

E-Mail: susieqla@yahoo.com
Category: Romance/Drama
Rating: PG-13 (T)
Archive: All Enterprise archives are fine.
Disclaimer: Star Trek Enterprise is the property (sadly) of
Paramount and its subsidiaries. No profit is being made, only closure.
Spoiler(s): “Similitude,” “Terra Prime - Part 2,” “These Are The
Voyages”
Summary: A sequel to my story, End of the Long Road?.

*****************************************************************************

Shran had faked his own death...his daughter had been kidnapped by former nefarious associates of his...but the girl had been recovered. Several hours from now, once his shuttle had powered up sufficiently, father and daughter would leave for home, safe and sound...

Archer looked up from the third draft of his speech. He had the sneaking suspicion he had worked on this before. 'Deja vu?' he thought to himself, shaking his head. No, it was something more concrete than that. He'd be damned if he knew what else to call it. Whether it felt as though he'd worked on this before, or not, the fact remained something unprecedented was expected of him, and he was duty-bound to deliver.

His forehead wrinkled in dissatisfaction. The tone of the last sentence he'd hastily written seemed off. He was about to draw a line through it when a familiar voice interrupted.

"Jonathan."

Archer nearly broke the point off the lead pencil. He stared at the ephemeral intruder for a few moments, wondering if seeing the last of him would ever be a reality. "Daniels..."

"I know what you're thinking," the mysterious agent voiced in that staid way he had. It unsettled Archer.

Sounding resigned, the captain said, "If you did, you'd be handing me a finished speech.

"That speech you're working on is important, but a matter of greater concern is why I've come."

Never one to mince words, Jon was abrupt. "What matter?"

Daniels seemed to be on the same plane as Archer. "I'll preface myself by saying that dwelling in the past has its limitations, but in this instance, it's a prerequisite. The past isn't necessarily set in stone as it generally seems. Perhaps I've never told you...increments of time can be thought of as subroutines."

Archer barely got to squeeze out, "What's that supposed--" The captain forcefully closed his mouth, seeing where Daniels and he were."

"I've conveyed you back to a critical fulcrum. Observe."

Carefully framing his statement, Jon whispered, "This is the past...it's after they lost their baby..." It didn't sit well with him, their spying on T’Pol and Trip like this. His two officers looked life-like enough, but were mannequin-esque in comportment. "What's the point of our being here?"

"Further, rather unstinting investigations have revealed that time along this line was punctuated by fractures, egregious trade-offs compromising its structural integrity. Discontinuity was traced from this point onward. Before repair can begin, progressive evaluations must be made. Since you are intimately involved, Jonathan, I invite you to participate." Cordially, Daniels bade, "Listen, observe..." Whatever the time agent was capable of effecting commenced live action.

Tearfully, Trip began, "The, uh, delegates at the conference, they've, uh, asked about the service." His voice broke again. "For, um...for Elizabeth. They want to attend."

"She was important."

Within their circular, nebulous covert of spatial flux, that had them suspended over T’Pol's quarters, Archer mumbled to Daniels, "We shouldn't be here. It isn't right."

"Right?" Daniels pursed his lips, holding Archer's incisive gaze. "A sentiment that is the crux of the matter. The rightness of things is undergoing severe analysis." Daniels motioned for his companion's
silence.

"There's something else," Trip continued, his breaths coming in spurts. "I spoke with Phlox. It turns out there was a flaw in the technique that Paxton's doctors used in the cloning process."

Without warning, Daniels 'froze' the action again. He turned discriminating eyes to Archer and spoke. "Take careful note, Jonathan. Your third-in-command mentions the cloning process. It is significant." The agent resumed what had already unfolded.

Trip went on, struggling with himself. "Human DNA and Vulcan DNA...Phlox says there's no medical reason why they can't combine. So, if a Vulcan and a human ever decided to have a child...it'd probably be okay."

Archer's heart went out to his dear friend. Then he quickly corrected himself. To *both* dear friends.

"That's sort of comforting," Trip painfully finished.

Archer noticed T’Pol's uncompromising grasp of Trip's hand and the captain heard Tucker practically gasp after the Vulcan had spoken his name, almost like a supplication.

Realization, in all its intensity, struck the captain. His first and second officers were intimately involved. All the rumors had their basis in cold, hard fact. They'd been selected by Paxton for a cogent reason. The nature of their private relationship had lent itself to the exaggerated point the fanatic had been trying to make. If Archer
hadn't felt terrible for his colleagues before, he felt doubly worse for them now.

Hardly moving his lips, Archer said in aside to Daniels, "As I said before, this isn't right, our eavesdropping on them like this. They deserve their privacy."

"They had that, the initial time." Daniels wasn't apologetic in the least. "All facets of the facts must be gathered before any direct intervention proceeds."

"Direct intervention?" Archer's thoughts pulsated and leapt ahead. "Then you haven't gone back far enough."

Daniels froze Trip's and T’Pol's interaction again. No look of inquiry graced his face which looked leaner, but he was anticipatory.

"We should be at the point in time where their beautiful baby girl dies." Bitterly, and with full possession of knowing what needed to be said, Archer insisted, "If anything needs rectification, it's that debacle! Xenophobes murdered their child."

Not sounding charitable, Daniels responded, "Yes, all in good time. That temporal skein is deceptive in its complexity..."

Archer rankled. "Deceptive," the captain parroted. "It's a heartbreaker! It's broken everyone's aboard ENTERPRISE along with Trip's parents and one of the few Vulcans T’Pol is close to...Soval. Think of the good it would have done if that baby had lived. Just look at them." Jon canted his head in his officers' direction, feeling the heaviness in his own heart again.

"The death of the child is likewise undergoing painstaking analysis."

"Her death was horrific for T’Pol and Trip. Something they'll never get over." Archer said, sounding impatient. "And it caused many hard feelings."

"If I haven't made it clear, then it's my fault," Daniels owned up. "All convoluted variants of this timeline are being rigorously re-analyzed. Intervention is dependent upon these reevaluations."

"Then why didn't you say so?"

It wasn't in Daniels' nature to look stymied, and he wasn't about to start at this point in time. "Then I'm saying it now, Jonathan. The infant's death as well as the aftermath are subject to change if mitigating factors that come to the fore prove valid."

"So, timelines *are* fair game."

Daniels gave Archer a patronizing look, but tried not to sound overly judgmental. "Malignancies detected warrant finer resolutions."

At this juncture, Daniels allowed Trip and T’Pol to take up where he'd forced them to leave off...

Given the setting, it didn't take Daniels or the captain much to see how heavily these two drew upon each other. Where had he been all this time, Jonathan wondered? Aboard another starship? Their involvement was irrefutably serious. They cared for each other deeply; true affection radiated from both.

"Oh, God, T’Pol, it hurts so much. God help us." Trip's tears began again. "Our little darlin' never had a chance. It's like losin' Lizzie all over again, and it hurts like hell. Worse."

Archer saw Trip's head sag way down.

"She was so helpless and she was ours. *Ours*, T’Pol!"

T’Pol said, "Elizabeth's demise was deliberate, intentionally planned to further Paxton's xenophobic ends. A defectively engineered example of what interspecies breeding would produce. A heinous act, one I find impossible to dismiss--ever."

"I was picturin' her bein' the spitin' image of you, growin' up smart as a whip and utterly beautiful, with us by her side every step of the way." His sobbing seemed as though it would never abate. "Your mom--now this! God, when does it end?"

Archer often wondered the same...

"With you. I won't lose you."

"That's a straight-up promise. I'm not goin' anywhere without you, my love. Least you got to hold her some. Every time I asked to, and kept demandin' to see you, I was told to go freak myself since I'm so fond of doin' it with aliens. I swore I was gonna waste every last one of those motherless bigots!"

Just as Archer was on the verge of predicting what T’Pol would say next, Daniels stopped the dialogue and said, "Much of this is superfluous."

The captain wouldn't have minded hearing every syllable. He loved these people greatly, perhaps even more so now with their being so tender, so honest with each other. The command of time this operative had, Archer deliberated. Daniels advanced the couple's conversation, continuing to astound Archer.

Trip whispered something against T’Pol's cheek and she said, "It's more."

"So much more, darlin'."

"It's a mandate." T’Pol extended two fingers to Trip's. "Ours. "I wish to be the mother of your children. The bond between Elizabeth and me had begun forming."

Trip squeezed his eyes shut. "Crap, crap, crap. Those murderers! When that son-of-a-bitch Greaves put his pistol to your head, all I saw was me beatin'' the livin' crap out of him and kickin' him into the next century. Callin' Vulcans not human. It's rich. Way, way back when, whites, now Andorians call us 'pinkskins,' used to say the same about people with his skin color. Enslaved 'em, treated their own dogs better. Humans aren't any better than anyone else."

"Yours is a very unique species."

Archer noted how carefully T’Pol massaged Trip's hand.

"We have our points, but so do you. It just takes some gettin' to know each other."

"I wasn't afraid to die. This is not meant to criticize your feelings."

"You don't think I knew that?"

"I knew, as well as knowing you would do everything in your power to stop them, without endangering me."

"Or our baby..."

"Our baby."

"Your death would've insured the destruction of that facility, T’Pol. I would've taken it apart with my bare hands after tearin' every last one of those deranged bastards limb from limb."

"Rash actions beget the consequences that befit such actions."

Archer smiled. Even in the face of such appalling tragedy, her stoic mind was the voice of reason.

Trip took up the IDIC with T’Pol's hand in tow. "There's a lot of truth in that."

"I once read in the ancient book which the majority of your species considers sacred how knowing the truth sets one free."

"I'm a man in love up to my eyeballs. If they'd murdered you, they would've killed us both on the spot. Would ya expect me to act any different?"

It was then Archer noticed how uncomfortable Daniels had begun looking. The captain wasn't left to wonder why for long.

"Maybe my timin's lousy, but when has it ever been great? So many times I've wanted to tell ya, but it never seemed to be the right time. The right time? When'll that be? When either one of us dies too soon, and it never gets said?" Trip brought his lips close to her cheek. "I love you." With more firmness he maintained, "T’Pol, I
love you, regardless of what you feel or don't feel for me."

"TRIP..."

Softly he replied, "Yes, T’Pol?"

"I..."

Archer held his breath and marveled at the same time. Would she say it back, Jon pondered.

"I love you, Trip. Love you truly, 'k'diwa.'"

The captain reminded himself to let out the breath which felt as if he'd been holding in for years.

"Beloved...I never thought I'd ever hear you tell me so. Somehow I knew, though. You had to feel something, expressin' it in your own sweet time."

"Initially it was revulsion."

Daniels raced things up...and T’Pol was still speaking.

"Our hearts have merged, our hearts are one...and it is how they will remain until we're no more."

"That better be for a very long time because I plan to be with you a very, very long time."

"We make a hell of a team."

"The assessment remains valid."

Trip kissed T’Pol tenderly in his one-armed embrace. Gradually, passion entered in and they gave in to abandon.

"I am highly emotional."

Daniels, much to Archer's feeling letdown, moved things along...

"You're so beautiful, especially when you're emotional. You take my breath away whenever you're just like this. Inn't true love grand?"

"Admitting our feelings to each other is logical."

"It took the death of our precious innocent to force our hands, but what hurts so much can only make us stronger. You make me happy, so very happy..."

Archer blinked several times seeing Trip tumble to his knees.

"T’Pol, all the bigots can go straight to hell! What we have is for keeps. We'll fight to protect it, and be winners!"

Tears welled in Archer's eyes.

"I love you, I need you. I pledge myself to you. All I am, all I have, and hope to be is yours, sweetheart." Trip breathed deeply.

"T’Pol, darlin', would you consent to be--"

"YES."

"You didn't let me pop the question."

'Nice touch,' Archer thought, seeing Trip kiss the top of T’Pol's hand.

"Not to throw cold water, but it's customary lettin' the guy get his proposal out before he's cut off."

"Oh...I--"

"No harm, no foul. You're eager is all. We're alike in so many ways. It never fails to blow me away."

If ever he felt caught in a time warp, Archer surely felt so now.

"But nobody can know," Trip was quick to announce, the wheels in his mind turning at break neck speed.

'Ah, so this is where that all began,' Jonathan was prompt to assimilate.

"Everyone will. They know already. We are public spectacles. Paxton saw to that."

"Exactly my point. I have other ideas."

"Which are?"

"From now on, things have to be different. For our own safety and the safety of any children we might bring into this partisan world, the small-minded universe outside of Starfleet, we have to lead double lives, T’Pol."

"You assume that the majority of individuals are Terra Prime sympathizers."

"Damn right I do! Terra Prime's only the tip of the iceberg, darlin'. There are dangerous people out there, hell-bent against the kind of life we want to have together. Malcolm and I have had long talks, not about us exactly, but close enough. All I heard in and around the moon-based mining facility was diatribe after diatribe of how aliens spell trouble for humans. Isolation, and if that's not enough, aggression as a deterrent, are the only ways to fortify Earth's security."

"But progress is being made. The alliance of pla--"

"An alliance...that's nice talk, but Paxton's succeeded in stirring folks up, and that's bad."

Archer couldn't help but note the bitterness in Trip's voice.

"T’Pol, it's the only way if we want this."

"What do you propose?"

"I haven't figured it out all the way through, but here's a start. Bein' discreet's the key. Bein' even more discreet than we've been up to now. If anything ever happened to you, T’Pol, on account of this life we want together that could be fraught with danger, I'd never forgive myself. Yes, I want us married. I also want us safe."

"In my eyes, we're already married, my husband. We will be safe because we'll be logical."

"Bingo. Logical never sounded so doable. Particularly since I'm keepin’ company with the poster gal who could write the book on bein' just that."

"You, Trip, are...many things I find I don't wish to live without," T’Pol poignantly remarked.

"Do *you* really want this, darlin'? Bein' my family?"

"I have never wanted anything more in my entire life, 'ashayam.'"

Archer's heart warmed seeing Trip rest his head in T’Pol's lap with the IDIC up near his forehead.

"Neither have I. You're it for me, T’Pol. There could never be anyone else who really gets me like you do. We're just about the two most fortunate people there could ever be. We see nothin' but the wonderful in each other and that's what keeps us comin' back for more."

"I have chosen wisely."

"That goes double for me."

"I will abide by your decisions that pertain to our life together...my husband."

Once again, as if almost on cue, Daniels halted what had gone before without Archer being any wiser. "You have the background set, Jonathan..."

"I'd like a little more," the captain objected.

"There will be," the temporal agent said, obligating himself, but he granted Archer a tidbit.

"Jon..."

"Will marry us. Indeed."

Daniels 'fast-forwarded,' the scene until he deemed it added credence overall.

"We have the ceremony, we go ahead with the reception...and not more than fifteen minutes in, we have a terrible, I mean a terrible fight. You say some pretty hurtful things, like I've got the stinkiest feet you've ever had the misfortune to gag on, I'm a hick...and then you tell me to drop dead."

"I could never want that. What would be the logic?"

"You don't mean it. You're pretendin'. I gotta get the last word in and tell ya your elfie, pointed ears are the stuff of nightmares. They make me sick--"

Archer recognized their exchange that had taken place six years ago for what it was, and had always been...a cleverly contrived ruse.

"I am not averse to having my ears surgically altered if that is your wish, beloved."

Archer stared agog at T’Pol over that remark.

"Absolutely not! Don't you dare! Not under *any* circumstances--ever. I'm crazy for your ears. How many times have I told you how much they turn me on. We're only *playin'*, T’Pol. Makin' believe we're breakin' it off, goin' our separate ways. Like we made the biggest mistake, thought better of it and decided to end it before goin' any further. We have to act the part so it'll be believed by *everyone*. Understand?"

"Subterfuge. A masquerade. We could end our relationship without being married."

"It's more dramatic this way. It's our big blow-out to really throw even our friends way off. Just follow my lead and we'll do fine..."

It was here where Daniels stopped the past events in this scheme of temporal continuity for the final time.

"What you've shown me happened years ago," Archer said, casting a resigned look over to Trip and T’Pol who were moored in this past." 'So,' he thought, 'I married them and they never got it annulled.' He recalled bits and pieces of half-remembered conversations coupled with things that had happened. 'They really pulled it off, impressively.' "If you're going to say they weren't justified keeping their marriage a secret, I'd disagree. Could you blame him for his attitude? Hatred killed their daughter. Trip did what he thought best. Trying to guarantee that he and T’Pol had a future. One in which hatred and prejudice didn't dog them every step of the way."

Daniels removed an elegant ovoid device from his chest pocket. He flipped its beveled edge of a lid, waited for the device to glow a soft amber and then said, "Shift marker one is in place. I've just activated number two. We can now proceed."

"Proceed?" Archer leveled. "Proceed where?"

"To the future, Jonathan. Where else? All that I must show you won't take long. You'll be back in plenty of time to deliver your..." Daniels looked almost whimsical, if Archer didn't know him better. "Groundbreaking speech."

=-=-=-=-=-=

The venue was now Sickbay and it was empty. If Phlox were anywhere around, he wasn't in immediate view. It was quiet too. The doctor's creatures weren't making any sounds. Daniels closed the lid on his device and pocketed it. "Pay close attention to the conversation, Jonathan."

"*What* conversation?" Archer sounded put-upon when he stated the obvious. "There's nobody here."

"I set the delay. There will be one shortly."

The pedantic tone Daniels used was beginning to irritate him. Aptly, the captain posed, "And Isn't that why I'm here? To make sure all facts have been gathered."

"What's being afforded isn't solely for temporal integrity and continuum stability." Keeping his tone neutral, Daniels continued, "I happen to like you, Jonathan. I requested to oversee this matter because I regard it as being personal."

"Personal how?"

"You'll see," Daniels cryptically played up.

His remark lowered the pit of Archer's stomach which already felt as though it were bottoming out. "How personal?"

No sooner had Jonathan asked, when the biological essences of Phlox and Trip coalesced before their eyes. Estimable physician and handsome engineering wiz were clearly visible. It also appeared, just as doctor and the chief engineer had, that they were in the middle of a divisive discussion.

"You've got the means to help, and you're standin' there refusin' to." Trip looked as though he was all set to explode. "Fakin' my own death so T’Pol and I can go someplace...someplace like Risa where bein' of different species and bein' together doesn't matter. It makes real sense. Practically everybody in this known star system knows our story, our faces, what we like doin' for fun, no thanks to Paxton. So you tell me. What are we supposed to do? We never broke it off, never went through with the annulment. You're the first I've told."

"Are you sure it's what T’Pol wants?" Phlox probed.

"Fake his own death?" Jon whispered to Daniels. "That's Shran talking," Archer derided.

"Sure it's what she wants. She loves me, tells me so every chance she gets. We make each other happy. I'm her husband. She does what I say."

"That's not what I asked, Commander. How certain are you that T’Pol agrees with your decision to violate ethics? She would never condone violating the Lyssarian Prime Conclave's ban on the creation of simbiotes, let alone one designed from your genetic makeup and your wishing it to intentionally destroy itself. She loves you. There. You already have her answer."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Meaning?" Phlox challenged.

"I'm not tellin' her. Bond or no bond, when I don't want her in my head, she stays out."

"Commander..." Reproving him, the doctor peered into Tucker's eyes as though trying to see the contagion that lurked within. "I'd like to run a full diagnostic--"

"I'm fine, dammit! Never felt better!"

"You don't sound as though you're fine. You sound seriously impaired."

"Like hell. I'm impaired because I want a life with the woman I love after ENTERPRISE is mothballed."

"What makes you believe you can't without the callous termination of a precious life?"

"Bigotry, hatred, rampant xenophobia--that's what!"

"You're deluding yourself, Commander, if you think you can blithely order your clone to commit what amounts to nothing less than suicide. You weren't privy to Sim's reaction when he learned what was to become of him."

"Yeah, but in the end he did what was expected of him."

Changing tack somewhat, Phlox continued to oppose. "I lived through Sim's demise, and I must tell you, not well. I vowed I'd never be a party to the pre-meditated destruction of an intelligent, sentient being. I won't help you. That is my answer, Commander, and it's final."

Gruffly, Trip fired back, "And how will ya feel hearin' about T’Pol and me dyin' at the hands of some angry, narrow-minded mob, twisted by extreme species-hatred, in the heart of San Francisco because we strayed too far from the Vulcan complex. If they let such a place remain? Could ya live with *that*? You of all folks should know. Malcolm and Travis told me about those idiots who taunted you at the bar. The fight that broke out."

Phlox, looking dismayed, shook his head. "Go to Risa, by all means. Just don't ask me to do this." Phlox backed away from Tucker, but that wasn't all. "When the Lyssarian Desevae develops into your clone, your mimetic simbiote, the match is exact. For all intent and purposes, I'd assist you with murdering your own brother, Commander."

"I can live with it," Trip told him, sounding hostile.

"As I told you, I will not. Whatever's come over you, Mister Tucker, I can't say I like it. Perhaps you can, live with it, which I doubt. But *I* can't." Sounding as though we was washing his hands of the entire matter, the Denobulan said with finality, "This discussion is
over."

"Oh, ya think so? Just like that, huh?" Trip smiled maliciously.

"I don't know this man," Archer admitted, full of sorrow.

"I realize this must be painful for you..." Daniels observed.

Archer was getting used to the agent halting the sequence of events and advancing them to a point in time he sanctioned as appropriate. What the starship captain saw next made him blanch. Finding his tongue, he blurted, "But...b-but Phlox told him no, in no uncertain terms. The doctor could never do it again under *any* circumstances. Why--"

Placidly, Daniels expounded. "The paranoid Trip Tucker, poisoned by the death of his child along with xenophobic hatred, blackmailed the good doctor."

"He did--what!" Shocked, Archer couldn't believe his ears. "Blackmailed!" Trip, eaten alive by paranoia, desperation? Jolted, the captain was forced to take stock. Was this the future, the life his beloved friend would share with T’Pol, in the end? Compounding the tragedy of their loss by perpetrating all that was foul? "What with?"

"Tucker threatened to expose Doctor Phlox. Your chief engineer vowed to disclose his licentious conduct with a certain Orion female by the name of Navar who was once a passenger aboard your vessel. Phlox has three wives."

"I know that," Archer snapped.

"Two of them are tolerant of extra-marital behavior. One is given to insane jealousy and reprisals. Phlox buckled under the pressure."

"But Trip wouldn't--"

"He would, and did. He used his knowledge against the physician. Jonathan, Commander Tucker was never the same after the infant's death. He hid his grief from others, yourself included, but not from his wife. T’Pol Tucker suffered mental cruelty at his hands until he left her no choice. Finally, she left him. The Charles Tucker of this timeline proved to be vindictive, sinister fanatic. With T’Pol no longer in his life, in effect, he became another Paxton on the opposite side of the coin, intolerant of those who advocated Terran isolation. Later, he formed an underground cell which realized many of their goals through violent means. His group was responsible for thousands of deaths."

The captain balled his hands into fists, feeling helpless. He scowled at the dormant simbiote lying on the biobed nearby. Jon's thoughts were bleak, as his blood ran cold. "Trip..." he said tonelessly. Archer turned accusatory eyes on Daniels. "There's got to be a way to prevent their little girl from dying. I refuse to accept the unchangeability of it. Daniels, please, for my friends' sake--please. They're good people. Find a way. I'm begging you. If there's anything I can do for them, I'll do it! Just find a way to help them. Save them from such a wretched existence. Prevent such needless deaths."

Archer's facial expression brightened, sensing Daniels was giving his plea serious consideration. "Very well, Jonathan. The aberrations embedded in this timeline warrant further investigation." In less than the blink of an eye, they were standing in the captain's ready room. "I will extrapolate and reexamine more exhaustively. I consider you a friend, Jonathan and I choose mine prudently." Archer had a visitor, indicated by the chime sounding. Daniels, knowing who it was, instructed, "Watch your responses, and promise him nothing."

When Archer turned away from the door to face Daniels, the operative was gone. "Come in," the captain ordered. Surprise was absent from his demeanor, as he'd had a feeling who it was. "Trip...what can I do for you?"

=-=-=-=-=-=

Daniels' stipulation that Archer shouldn't promise Trip anything had been correct. Before storming out of the ready room, the younger man had become vehement with him. Jonathan hardly recognized the southerner, venting, demanding he accept the rash course of action he'd taken on his own. Trip had gone too far, ordering the captain to accompany him to Sickbay to see the ill-fated twin, the 'fall-guy,' he had coerced Phlox into creating.

Jon, still dizzy from the raucous exchange, sat at his desk, clutching its edge. 'How could Trip think I'd condone his gross disregard for life?' The experience with Sim bit into his conscience still. Jon lowered his head into his hands. The captain felt miserable for his friend, what he'd been reduced to.

He also felt utterly helpless. The idea badgered him that he should place Trip in the Brig for insubordination. The way his senior officer had spoken to his superior certainly warranted some disciplinary action. A mere slap on the wrist wouldn't suffice, and perhaps locking Trip up for a while would be for his own good, somehow.

The more he thought about it, the more Archer liked the idea. Taking to the comm, the captain, issued, "Security."

"Aye, sir." Reed's voice was as sharp as a tack.

"Dispatch a detail. I want Commander Tucker placed in the Brig till further notice. Understood?"

"Aye, Captain," the armory officer dutifully acknowledged, not questioning. "I'll see to it. Reed out."

Once off the comm, Archer felt adrift. Aloud, he said, "And T’Pol's pregnant..." Not anticipating any response, he started quite a lot when, from out of the blue, he got one.

"That's correct, Jonathan. She is." Daniels was giving him a sobering look. "The new life T’Pol carries inside herself is defective. The stress within her marriage will ultimately take its toll. This baby will die in childbirth." Seeing how broken Archer looked, touched, Daniels expressed, "I'm sorry."

"Not sorrier than I," the captain complained, irascible, intractable for what he knew to be fair. "Losing one child isn't enough? They lose this one too? Damn it to hell! They don't deserve this. They were in love, had everything to look forward to. The rightness of things demands equity for them." He shot to his feet, looking as though he was ready to battle the entire star system for the sake of his friends' happiness.

Daniels regarded him for several contemplative moments before divulging his findings which he had obtained by exhaustive effort. "I've found something, Jonathan. Well several co-junctions in particular. While preserving temporal integrity, the refined calculations and modifications made indicates saving your friends' offspring is the true exponent."

"What you're really saying is their beautiful little Elizabeth should live. Must live!"

Looking like a sage was no stretch for Daniels. Succinctly, he illuminated, "It turns out, and this is my fault. Initially, I'd overlooked at least two relevant variants, and misinterpreting the second one's ramifications. Along an alternate timeline, their daughter plays a significant role within the workings of interstellar diplomacy. It is the timeline of greatest dividend."

His optimism revived, Archer's eyes lit up. "She becomes a big shot, is what you mean," he announced, quickly becoming delirious. "How could you have overlooked such a glaring detail like that?"

Sounding pensive, Daniels said, "I've been a little distracted lately..."

"*You*?"

"Temporal agents aren't without their foibles too."

"Care to elaborate on the distraction?" The captain looked puckish in his inquisitiveness.

"Now isn't the time, nor place," Daniels admonished. "To set things right, moving quickly is essential. Two lives hang in the balance."

"Two lives?" Jon echoed. "Who's the other?"

"The father-to-be, your friend, the Commander."

"Trip?" Archer exclaimed, incredulous and his heart started beating raggedly. "He dies at some point?"

"He could. That is why not wasting time is of the essence. One of the timelines that could come into play implicates his death."

Under his breath, Archer reminded himself, "I've him locked in the Brig. Maybe he's a sitting duck there for..." The captain frowned, clearly perplexed.

Daniels' hearing was sharp. "Commander Tucker's stay in the Brig won't amount to much."

"I've got this overwhelming feeling you're going to show me why," Archer said candidly.

"You're beginning to sound blasé." Another time shift was on the agenda, and the agent said, "First things first, Jonathan. I suppose describing their daughter's future ambition your way is acceptable." Daniels, still nodding, reached for his trusty device. On the cusp of his saying, "Let's make sure she lives to fulfill her destiny."

Those words filled the captain with hope.

=-=-=-=-=-=

Archer knew where they were without needing to be told. This was Paxton's mining colony and Daniels and he were deep within its bowels. They were observers in one of the aseptic genetic engineering laboratories. Two techs, garbed in white lab coats, who looked more like hazmat specialists, pored over a brace of agar plates.

"So we agree..."

"Yes, we're agreed."

Though the voices were somewhat muffled, they were intelligible.

"Condemning, what will become, this innocent child to death is unconscionable. Paxton's dogma is corrupt, and we're the ones to stop him. What we do is for the future." The tech recalibrated the symmetry of the splicing and was satisfied.

The other hooded associate nodded. "No individual, a fanatic at best, has any right to dictate that his myopic vision of the future is the one, only correct one. The aliens who live and work among us negate his bigotry, just as our organization has been saying for years. Our spies were correct. This madman's extrusion is for the greater good." The accomplice removed one of the plates from the control field. Critically, the female stipulated, "Careful. The helixic breadth must be exact."

"And it is. The phenolization and deliberate ethanol-based precipitation will evince a viable, healthy organism." Sounding satisfied, the tech said, "There. That's the final sequencing of recombinants. The desired result is as it should be."

Following some further minute inspection of their work, performed by highly specialized equipment, the techs moved off. They deposited the fruit of their meticulous labor into isolation, the environment of which was painstakingly maintained. Standing apart for several moments, the man and woman, highly distinguished graduates of Tulane, heartily embraced.

Daniels and Archer heard them whisper to each other, "We've done the right thing..."

The captain, nodding along with them, said to Daniels with a voice full of emotion, "Thank you. I'm not alone in saying that."

"I know, Jonathan. I know..."

What felt like seconds later was anything but. The men stood in a place familiar to Archer. Someone familiar was winding up his speech. The captain whisked his eyes about the hall filled with delegates whose attention belonged to Minister Nathan Samuels.

"Just as humbling as when I heard it the first time," Jon commented. It felt strange seeing himself standing with his crew at this distance, actually reading their less than enthusiastic reactions. He saw himself ordering Trip to clap louder, and it made him smile.

"He's nearly finished," Daniels remarked.

"Just about," the captain rejoined with a shrewd smile on his face, thinking back to the politician's closing words adorning his hunger for the spotlight.

Samuels had concluded and events, still fresh in Archer's memory, flowed as he kept his eyes trained on Trip's and T’Pol's movements. The reason for Daniels' and his presence quickly came to the fore. The captain, out the corner of his eye, keyed in on another familiar figure who approached his First Officer. The woman bore a tiny bundle which she clung to as if her life depended on it..

"They were going to kill her..." The blonde woman thrust the bundle into T’Pol who reacted instinctively by taking it into her arms.

"Excuse me?"

"I escaped with her. She's yours." The woman buckled to her knees, swayed and crumpled to the floor.

"Susan Khouri..." escaped from Archer's lips. "She still played a crucial role in this."

"Yes, she did," Daniels agreed. "If not for her self-less actions, their child would still have died at the hands of the hate faction."

"But the baby's healthy," Jon stated more than inquired.

"Perfectly," was Daniels' confirmatory response. "No genetic defects inherent in improper cloning technique."

"No grieving parents." Archer looked to T’Pol who was
eyeing the baby girl suspiciously, but cradled her in her arms, nevertheless. "You have your first family aboard your vessel, Jonathan."

"With Starfleet approval?"

"Not only its approval, but a glowing endorsement. A groundbreaking family whose example made great strides in this timeline. As I pointed out, this trajectory yields the highest payoffs in interstellar advancement."

Archer, feeling dazed but exultant, owned up, "Can't say I don't feel a bit lost after so many time shifts, but this last one has certainly made my day." Beaming, he grinned from ear to ear, noticing then that Trip had come to stand with T’Pol. His heart bursting for them, the
captain said, "Thank you, Daniels."

"Don't thank me yet," he cautioned.

"Why..."

"You'll see."

=-=-=-=-=-=

Archer gawked at himself and then at Daniels. With a furrowed brow he asked, "Trip looks happy enough. He is the Trip who's a family man. Isn't he?" The captain saw that his chief engineer and he were in the mess hall with a bottle of whiskey between them. It still took some getting used to, seeing himself lodged in another timeframe. "This is the future, I take it."

"Yes, it is..." There was a reticence about Daniels now that the captain found more than a little disturbing.

"What's supposed to ha--"

"Observe, listen," was all Daniels said. But then, as though he'd had a change of heart, he cued, "This is where the most important of all the modifications made must occur. Events must run their course up to a point to safeguard cohesive tangibility."

"I love it when you talk way over my head," Archer gifted.

"My invitation still stands, Jonathan, you could always come work for us. There's such a broad scope of opportunities in temporal mechanics. A talented, innovative man, such as yourself, would go far."

"Oh, I'm sure I would," Archer humored with considerable largess.

Drawing in closer to the captain, Daniels tipped, "I've practically recommended you."

"I really have my heart set on moving up in the ranks of Starfleet, that is...if you don't mind."

"Mind? I? Of course not, it was just a suggestion," Daniels acknowledged, but sounded a little put off. He advised Jon should pay rapt attention to events that
would rapidly unfold.

"So you think this alliance is gonna hold?"

"We'd better hope so. There are thousands of planets within reach. It's got to start somewhere."

Trip sighed, sounding wistful. "Who woulda guessed? Vulcans and Andorians in the same bed."

"The Tellarites were never big fans of the Andorians, either." Future Archer cast appreciative eyes at the libation. "This is a special bottle of whiskey. Zefram Cochrane gave it to my father the day they broke ground at the warp five complex."

"And here we are...toastin' the warp seven."

"Here's to the next generation."

"Written your speech yet?" Trip asked.

"I always crammed before exams. I've got three days left."

"The biggest day of your life, and you're gonna wait until the night before."

"It's the biggest day of *our* lives."

Trip, sounding like a mediator corrected, "Oh, I hate to contradict you, Captain, but...you're the man they're waitin' to see..."

---Archer to the Bridge---

Future Archer responded crisply, "What's going on?"

It was T’Pol. "We're under attack."

"Who are they?"

"We don't know yet, sir."

The intruder alert alarm began blaring.

Daniels and Archer quickened their pace to keep up with Trip and future Jon who were racing along the corridor, en route to the Bridge. Their dash came to an abrupt halt when the intruders showed themselves.

"We've come for Shran and the child."

Daniels froze the event stream. It appeared he was tagging elements, using his device as one would use an old-fashioned bookmark. Then he brought the stream up to speed. The Archer witnessing these incidents couldn't hold back and said, "I have a very bad feeling about this..."

Daniels merely nodded and allowed the chain of cumulative
circumstances to flow on.

Future Archer was adamant. "Shran left six hours ago. You're too late."

"You're lying. His shuttle is still in your launch bay. Kill him."

Frantically, his hands waving wildly, Trip pleaded, "Hold on. Wait a minute!"

"Trip! I'll take care of this."

"The hell you will. I'll bring you to Shran," Trip interceded. I know where he is."

"I gave you an order, Commander."

Ignoring future Archer, Trip persisted. "You heard me. I said I'd bring you to Shran."

"Trip!"

"Very well. Turn around, both of you," the rapacious looking leader of the band barked.

"Hey, this guy's the Captain."

"That's enough."

"He's my boss." Trip seemed to be arguing with himself. "I'll disobey his order. I don't want him coming along," he interposed, blocking approach to future Archer.

"Trip, that's enough!"

"Listen. I won't do this if you kill him, but could you please shut him up?"

When the rifle butt connected with future Archer's jaw, Jonathan, with Daniels resting his hand squarely on his shoulder, winced in reflex.

"Stop! You can't expect me to just leave him here alive?" the long-haired alien objected.

"He's out cold. He's not gonna cause any trouble.

"Stay here." The leader instructed his partners, "If we're not back in ten minutes, kill him."

Trip was frantic. "Didn't you hear what I just said? I won't help you if you kill him. This might take longer than ten minutes."

"Take me to Shran or I'll kill him right now!"

Hysterically, Trip shouted, "Okay, okay!" Then, visibly pulling himself together, he offered, "I've got a better idea. I'll bring Shran to us. We don't have to go anywhere."

"Be very careful," the intruder on vigilant guard warned.

"You can all come see for yourselves." Trip was leading the intruders away from the fallen, future Archer. "This is just a com station. I'm gonna need to open this so I can bypass the security protocols. Is that okay?"

The Archer standing with Daniels started in shock, knowing full well this future Trip was lying through his teeth. He hadn't led the intruders to any com station. It was a power juncture. Raw current lay embedded in those relay cables!

"What's he going to do?" Jon fearfully asked Daniels, watching Trip keep up the pretense.

"As long as you keep your hands where we can see them."

"No problem," Trip complied. "Now, all I need to do is connect this to the relay inside that panel..."

"Stop!" To one of his men, the leader demanded, "Open it for him." He warned Trip, "If there's a weapon in there, you're going to die before your Captain."

"Die!" Mesmerized, Archer, in league with the temporal operative, gulped deeply; he'd sounded slow-witted. "Daniels, I don't like this. Do something before--"

"Satisfied?" Trip defended.

"Proceed." The menacer watched Trip like a hawk whose prey scurried to get away. "Hurry up! You're running out of time."

"Daniels!" Archer's bad feeling was trouncing his gut. "Please--I know what he's going to do, and you can't let him!"

"There's just one other thing I need to tell you..." Trip held up the relays as though they were trophies. His voice was matter-of-fact, quite engaging, really. Giving nothing away as he brought the antipodal ends of the power cables together he advocated, "You can all go straight to hell!"

"TRIP--NO!" Archer, horrified, roared and sprang into action, thinking he could get to Trip and save him from certain death, somehow. The steadying hand of Daniels held him back and before Jon could say another word, he and Daniels were tucked back into the captain's ready room, where this cross-cutting excursion through time had begun.

Sedately, Daniels told him, "You witnessed the future, a forerunner of actual events, if this deviation of a spike in this continuum is allowed to run its course. You, Jonathan, and you alone, have the power to alter this course."

"You hit reset, of a sort. But how? How can you do these unimaginable things?" Archer tensely asked. He echoed words he had spoken to this transcendental figure once before when Silik's shape-shifting abilities had been a topic of conversation.

The intruder alert alarm began blaring.

"Go take care of this thread of the future, Jonathan." Daniels canted his head to the side. "I'll be seeing you. Sooner than you think."

His eyes radiating gratitude to match the timbre of his voice, Jon said, "Thank you, Daniels. Drop in any time you're between passages that don't happen to involve me or this crew." The captain's eyes gleamed, as mischief replaced his having the heebie-jeebies. "Who knows...I might just give your offer some serious consideration if this job doesn't quite pan out the way I'd hoped. I want a new commission, not being chained to a desk, but Starfleet might have other ideas."

"Be seeing you, Jon. Take good care."

Jon pressed, "You too. And thanks so much again for...well, doing what you do best, I guess. Giving history a little nudge in the right direction."

"Any time..." With that, Daniels went his mysterious way.

Swiftly, Archer accessed the comm to contact Security. He gave Lt. Reed the exact location of ENTERPRISE's unwelcome visitors. "Hold Shran's would-be attackers."

"Sir," Reed said, his voice inquiry itself, "how do you know these intruders are here for Shran?"

"Having insider information never hurts, Lieutenant. I'll explain, later, Mister Reed. Now, get a move on. Apprehend them immediately! I'll meet you at the Brig."

"Yes, sir, right away, sir," came the lieutenant's expedient reply. Malcolm was already contacting personnel for the detail.

"Archer to Engineering. Commander Tucker!"

"Engineering, Captain. Rostov here, sir."

"Where's Commander Tucker?"

"In Sickbay."

"Thank you, Crewman. Archer out." Jon's level voice belied his sudden misgivings. He wasted no time leaving his ready room and getting to Sickbay as quickly as possible. Visions of future Trip incinerating himself accompanied him the entire way there, serving to cloud his mind. What if Trip had happened upon the alien band of three first, before Malcolm and the MACOs apprehending them? What if his chief engineer had done the same thing he'd done in the future, now? Was he broken, bleeding, fighting for his life?

'But wouldn't Daniels have shown that to me as well?' Archer reasoned, 'And prevented that outcome just as he'd done with the first one? The captain's mind lurched in turmoil. If anything ever happened to Trip...

Sickbay's doors stood right before him, and not hesitating for an instant, the captain barged through them. The sight that greeted the agitation in his eyes warmed the cockles of his heart. This was better than any birthday or Christmas, rolled into one, could ever have been.

"Trip--you're all right!"

"Why shouldn't I be, Cap'n?" a playful Tucker rebutted jovially. He lifted his vibrant little girl, who was tearful no longer, to his mouth for a generous kiss on her cheek. T’Pol, who was standing an arm's length away moved nearer to her family.

"I was told you were here."

"You were told right, Cap'n. T’Pol was here ahead of me."

"After apprising you of the intruder, my presence was also requested, Captain," T’Pol informed. "It seems our daughter--"

"Don't say it like that," Trip officiously corrected. "Like T'Lizzie is--"

"*Elizabeth*," T’Pol said, leaking more firmness into her delivery than she normally did, with her facial expression corresponding. "I will not have *my* child referred to by the contrived nickname you see fit to adopt."

Archer worked hard to suppress a chuckle. This sort of family togetherness was priceless, not to mention timeless and ageless. Equally not to be overlooked was its being real, in the here and now. All credit went to Daniels.

"Aw, c'mon, T’Pol, can't ya give a little? Would it kill ya to give in just this once? The way I usually seem to."

Tersely, T’Pol replied, "We will have this same discussion again later, not *here*. Though, I fail to see the need for further debate. I was under the impression we had settled this difference of opinion last week." Stiffly, she addressed Archer. "Captain, I'm sure you have more important things to attend to than ascertaining Elizabeth's
correct nomenclature."

"There my missus goes again, Cap'n. Referrin' to our bubbly pride and joy like she's antiseptic and all set to jump under a microscope."

Archer was beginning to lose the battle, on the verge of giving into side-splitting laughter. Theirs was certainly a match scripted aboard ENTERPRISE.

"Trip!" T’Pol was looking very maternal at the moment with her arms at the ready to remove Elizabeth from him. Her daughter and her husband, both, stopped making faces at each other.

"Yes, dear," Tucker rejoined with a good-natured barb at the end, edging it off just right.

"Momma play too. Play with us. Play now!"

"We'll all play together, honeybunnie," Trip tenderly reassured, while lovingly placing his daughter into her mother's waiting arms. "Won't we?" He aimed his cajoling at T’Pol, and his wife rested her chin on her daughter's head, looking a fraction more understanding. "Seems our little darlin' needs her folks front and center before she'll let Phlox get near her for a check-up," Tucker cheerfully supplied, lightly tapping Elizabeth on her nose. The doctor stood at the ready with a diagnostic device. "She's fine when he's caretakin' 'Unckee' Phlox, makin' with the funny faces and the goofy noises. But, just let him slip into doctor mode and it's no go."

"Oh, she just likes me better when I make her laugh." Phlox gave them a brief sample of his facial and audio antics and had the winsome-faced, sandy blonde-haired girl laughing spiritedly.

"That's right, honey," her dad said proudly, "give your beautiful mom a great big ol' hug to go along with those laughs."

Instinctively, Elizabeth obeyed her father. The child lavished upon her unflappable mother what Trip had given his little charmer on her glowing cheek. Lots more saliva figured in, though. "Love you, Mommy. Love you!"

T’Pol, affected, just barely concealing it, bound the child up in warmth, doting upon her. Not only had Trip's love changed her, her daughter's had also, profoundly. Her husband would attest to it, and though Elizabeth was still very young, she thrived on her mother's loving care.

Wiping some errant tears which were a unique blend of satisfaction and hilarity, from his eyes, Archer said, I've got to go see our armory officer about some intruders in the Brig. We're on for dinner tonight, aren't we?" Jon smiled warmly at Elizabeth, and his heart melted when she struggled to drag her sleepy eyes to his.

"Unckee Jon-Jon..." Elizabeth murmured.

The captain's heart fluttered in such a splendid way. After all, he considered contentedly, taking in his loyal friends for several happy moments, 'I *am* her godfather.'

"That ya are, that ya are, Cap'n. Sure thing," Trip concurred. "Lizzie sits in that boosted seat of a highchair I made for her like such a proper little lady. Just like Mommy." He skittered questioning eyes at his wife, looking to her for consensus. "Um, T’Pol?"

"I recall that tonight is customarily regarded as family night..."

"As well as movie night too," Phlox stridently reminded everyone. "I believe you requested 'The Jungle Book,' Mister Tucker. One of my particular favorites...so many delightful, colorful creatures." Teasingly, his finger grazed Elizabeth's cheek. "Seems she's ready for her afternoon nap." To the doting parents, the doctor stated, "I'll postpone her check-up until later, then."

"Fine, Doc," Trip readily responded.

"It is preferable." T’Pol backed up against the biobed behind her and sat. "If it is acceptable, I will remain with her until she falls completely asleep." Her child clung to her tenaciously.

"I'd like to do the same, sir. Things are a mite slow in Engineerin', I'm happy to say. The shakedowns were completed just this mornin'. Engines purrin' like milk-fed kittens. We'll hand her back better than when we got her, Cap'n."

Trip's boyish face, strikingly lit up, said it all, Jonathan saw. ENTERPRISE, even if she were refitted and re-launched, would never have a man, or woman, for that matter, more qualified, more gifted for its Chief Engineer than Commander Charles 'Trip' Tucker, The Third.

"Carry on then, family. I'll see the three of you later." Before Archer left Sickbay he turned from its door to give his wonderful friends one more glance before departing. Not lending sound to the words, he mouthed, "Thank you again, Daniels. Thank you so very much. I'll return the favor, anytime. This was the best going away present I could have ever received..."

"Get a move on, Cap'n. You know how much you hate keepin' prisoners waitin'," Tucker teased.

"I do, don't I? Especially these." With a swat of his hand at the dear, old friend who possessed such dramatic, twinkling blue eyes, Jon left.

=-=-=-=-=-=

T’Pol, Trip and little Elizabeth Tucker waited in the lounge for Jonathan Archer. The sound of thunderous applause served as the keynote speaker's backdrop as he came bounding down the plush red-carpeted steps to exit the regal podium.

"Well, how was I?" the captain asked somewhat breathlessly when he reached the family of three.

"You were great, Jon, you knocked the socks off 'em," Trip enthusiastically endorsed, giving his friend the biggest ear to ear grin possible coupled with several hearty claps on the back. "Those who wear socks, that is."

Even Lizzie was clapping gaily, her animated movements thoroughly enchanting as she bobbed up and down in her mom's arms.

"What about your verdict, T’Pol?"

Stoically, the Vulcan replied, "The sentiments befit this historic occasion, admirably, Captain."

"Yes, but was I good?" Archer pressed.

T’Pol thought for a moment, then answered, "Yes. You were quite effective."

"We promised Lizzie..." Trip's voice trailed off. "What?" he asked giving his wife a needling look.

"We agreed."

"I know, but I wasn't gonna push it." Trip took his child into his arms after T’Pol handed her off.

"The designation has..." T’Pol dropped some of her impassivity. "As you would say, 'grown on me.'"

Laughing, Trip nodded and happily told Jon, "We promised T'Liz..."

"You know you want to say it the way you want to, so do," T’Pol prompted.

"Okay, okay...T'Lizzie--"

Archer shook with laughter, and agreed to take their daughter who was straining her arms towards the captain with all her might.

"Captain," T’Pol spoke up crisply, "we promised we'd take her to this city's zoological park. Would you care to join us?"

"We'd love ya to come along, Boss, that is unless you can't get out of attending the reception."

After nuzzling the crown of Elizabeth's head, Jon returned, "I can't think of a better way to celebrate new beginnings. Come on, let's get underway before the Klingon ambassador insists I meet his daughter."

Jokingly, Trip insinuated, "What's she look like, Cap'n?"

T’Pol cocked an eyebrow at her husband.

Sidling up next to T’Pol, Jonathan levied, "Never you mind. I'd much rather escort the enchanting Tucker women to the zoo this day, and leave the schmoozing to the politicians who've got it down to a science."

"I'm with you, Jon," Trip sympathized, unswervingly siding with him. First one to the Monkey House wins a giant box of Cracker Jacks!"

“You’re on!”

Unceremoniously, Archer and company quietly slipped out a side door of the great hall, and into the bright rays of the glorious San Franciscan sun. Escape never felt this good, or more perfect.

End

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Half a dozen of you have made comments

Nice fix. Daniels to the rescue! Though I wish it never happened in the first place...

Thank you, thank you, thank you for fixing not only the finale, but the clone issue as well. I must say I was having a really hard time figuring out how you were gonna fix things after part one. Nice job!

Neat. I got a bit confused with all the different timelines, but the ending made it all better! :)

Dang am I glad that whole clone issue was part of a screwed up AU that Daniels had to clean up,,, Now I really loved how Ya cleaned things up this time.

Excellent job! I also liked how you handled the clone issue and how you made T'Pol more assertive in this timeline. Nice Fix!

That was a great fix for the ending... I really enjoyed the clone twist and how you ended it. This would be great to see on film.