Cmdr. Tucker was correct in his assertion that the captain would not believe what had happened at the inquest. Even after he heard it, Archer sat there at the bar in disbelief for several moments. When he had been led from the hall, he had believed that the delegates were fully siding with the Romulans against Earth. It seemed that except for Earth, each of the ambassadors were familiar with the Romulans and knew better than to take their story or evidence at face value. Tomorrow they would start hearing the testimony of Columbia’s survivors and Archer truly regretted that he could not be there to hear it. At least Trip and Malcolm would be able to let him know what was happening.

The first to testify was the ship’s communications officer Ensign Lila Spencer. She explained that they had received a distress call from the Romulan vessel. When they arrived they were surprised to discover nothing wrong with the ship. They attempted to contact the Romulans but they did not answer. She said Captain Hernandez found their behavior suspicious and decided it was best to leave the area, but before they could someone or something opened fire on the Romulan vessel. It appeared to come from their vicinity, but the Columbia never fired. The captain offered assistance once again, but the Romulans locked their weapons and began to attack. The crew did their best to protect and defend themselves, but their technology was no match for the Romulans. They continued unabated until the ship blew aside. The captain’s last act was to order all crew to the escape pods, but there simply wasn’t enough time. Records and voice recordings all corroborated her testimony.

Lila tried to keep her composure as she spoke, but more than once she had to stop to keep from breaking down completely. For her the attack and the destruction of the Earth ship were still very real. It invaded her thoughts constantly and at times she found herself reliving it in her mind. Coming to the inquest and testifying had been extremely difficult, but she felt she had owed it to her captain and crew. They deserved some measure of justice and so did she. Lila’s testimony and cross-examination lasted all day, but despite the rawness of her emotions and her ongoing trauma, she held up admirably, even when the Romulans tried to discredit her.

The next day Archer was allowed to return to the inquest. This time the testimony was being given by a crewman working in the armory. His story was short, but he was able to give first hand knowledge that the initial shot that sparked everything had not come from the Columbia. At this point the delegates looked over the ship’s manifests and records and indeed it backed up the crewman’s story. There was no evidence that phase cannons were fired or torpedoes shot at the time stamp submitted by the Romulans. For Archer this was another victory in Erika’s favor and he was relieved to see it.

The last two witnesses, the chef and a science officer were not called to testify since their positions had not placed them anywhere where they could speak regarding what had transpired between the ships. With all of the depositions from both sides and evidence from the two ships in hand, the delegates went off to deliberate. The captain was certain that between the two survivors, ship’s logs and records, a verdict would be quick and in Earth’s favor, but that was not the case. To his dismay a decision was not so swiftly given.

For months the delegates deliberated, arguing one way and then another. Archer was in no position to hear what was being said nor could he help sway the decision in Earth’s favor. All he could do was wait and it grated on him. To him there should have been no debate and the answer simple and unanimous, but still there was no decision. At least during the day he had the distraction of advising on the new ships being built. Over the last five years they had experienced so many things, met so many species, and had gone through so many highs and lows, that he had a lot to say about what had worked well on the Enterprise and what had not. He also had a long list of suggestions that could make these new vessels better, stronger and more formidable. Archer also drew on the expertise of both Commander Tucker and Lt. Reed who were invaluable to him.. As they went over the specs of numerous weapons and picked what worked best and optimal placement, the captain found himself laughing. How strange to think that once he had refused having too much armament because he had believed that a vessel of exploration had no need of it. Now he couldn’t think of enough methods to protect Earth ships.

When the work was done for the day then the three shipmates would go out to a nearby bar and unwind for a couple of hours with jokes, humorous observations or anything else that would pass for light-hearted entertainment before going their separate methods. While Trip and Malcolm would go back to their apartments, tired and ready for a night’s sleep, Archer was far too restless. Rather than go home, he would take Porthos for a walk down to the wharf and sit beneath an ancient clock tower that marked an old ferry terminal from two and a half centuries before. He did this in hopes of finding Danaë there at exactly ten. After the Xindi conflict when they had finally admitted their feelings for each other, it had become their favorite rendezvous point. Anytime they were on Earth they would meet there before going back to Archer’s apartment together. It had become regular enough that when they had a chance to exchange a word or two in the presence of others they would manage to slip in the phrase “by the clock” as code. This small sentence meant more than just a promise to meet later, it was their way of saying ‘I love you’ without anyone knowing. Occasionally he saw Lt, D’Arcy working with the others to get these new ships ready, but there were all the time people around and there was never any time to chat or even exchange pleasantries.

Three weeks into the deliberation, Archer was still showing up every night at the wharf, but Danaë had yet to and it bothered him. Their last encounter had been an odd one and even perhaps a bit cryptic. They hadn’t exactly broken up but it was obvious that the nature of their relationship was problematic and he wasn’t sure it could go on the way it was. The amount of strain created between two people when they tried to keep things going long distance or when things are kept in secret could only go on so long before cracks appear and things fall aside. He hoped against hope that this had not happened between him and Danaë.

After so many fruitless nights of sitting alone with just Porthos, Archer was about to give up on gonna the wharf, but his heart rather than his mind continued to lead him there anyway. He stood for a few moments in the darkness of the colonnade that ran beneath the clock tower then shook his head and thought ‘what am I doing here’ before deciding to walk away. Looking for a change of scenery he walked around to the other side of the building to the plaza that went out over the water. No one seemed to be around and he couldn’t help thinking that being there was all just a waste of time. He turned to leave only to see a lone silhouette watching him from the corner of the building.

At first he was suspicious, after-all, he was not without enemies from many galaxies. The Klingons were eager to pay a steep price to capture him, but this form was far too short and shapely to be a Klingon. He called to the figure to show themself then steeled himself for a fight. After a moment the figure stepped forward, the lamp light illuminating their long, loose golden curls and the creamy color of her skin. He knew those hazel-gray eyes and the shapely figure that stood before him. He was not so familiar with the long form-fitting gray, black and white striped dress she was wearing, nor did he care where she got it. All that mattered was that it was Danaë and she was here. Silently he approached her and, taking her hand in his, led her to a dark secluded area in the back of the building.

Neither spoke as he claimed her mouth and pressed her body against the building with his own. He was not a man normally given to taking wreckless chances. He was methodical, careful, focused, an example of the Starfleet ideal. There were times in the past when he had been presented with opportunities to have a dalliance with an officer of lesser rank, such as Erika Hernandez. Each and every time, without hesitation, he had wisely nipped it in the bud and never regretted it. Yet when it came to Danaë he found himself unable to withstand. In her arms all rules were forgotten and he never even felt guilty over it. He just needed her with him… all the time.

Hidden in the shadows, he silently reminded himself that at this time of night and at this location there was no one around to interrupt, no rules or regulations, there was nothing but the two of them. Her hands worked their way up his shirt, caressing the taut muscles of his back before moving to his solid abdomen and chest. She breathed in the scent of him as her arm went around his neck and and her fingers threaded themselves through his hair. No man had ever had the power to move her in body, heart and soul but Jonathan Archer could. He only needed to reach out his hand and she would follow him into hell and back and it was the same for him.

She moved her fingers down to the waistband of his pants and began to fumble with his fly and button. He in turn roved his hands over her soft mounds of her breasts to waist and then her round bottom. Slowly he began to pull up the hem of her dress until it was high enough for him to access her warm, wet treasury. Even more delightful was the discovery that there were no undergarments to hinder his exploration. Danaë once more wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her up and pressed her against the wall. Their kisses were deep, penetrating and hungry. The only pause was when he slid himself inside of her, exacting a slight gasp of pleasure.

She wrapped herself around Archer and clung to him as he moved in and out, slowly at first then quicker and quicker. Her fingers slid beneath the collar of his shirt and her nails dug into his skin as her arousal grew. Her breath was coming out in pants and at the feel of her body tensing up in orgasm, Archer quickly covered her mouth with his in order to prevent any moans that might give them away before spilling himself into her. After a few precious seconds his mouth released hers but their body’s still remained entwined as their sensitive flesh continued to tingle as they tried to catch their breath.

“I-is that a… new dress?” The captain finally said in between shudders as he tried to collect himself.

“Uh… uh, yes.” she managed to answer as another shiver of pleasure rippled through her.

“I like it… I-it looks good on you,” he commented, as his body returned to typical.

“Thanks,” Danaë returned. “You realize if we keep taking these kinds of chances, we’re going to get caught. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Probably,” he agreed as he lowered her back down and allowed her feet to once more touch the pavement. Suddenly cognizant of where they were and the probability of someone passing by them, she immediately pulled her dress back down and Archer hastily fixed himself.

He was about to suggest they go back to his apartment and talk, but before he could get the words out the captain’s communicator went off causing him to not only roll his eyes but his entire head. What could be so essential that it needed his attention right now at this time of night? He flipped it open and answered with a “Captain Archer here” that didn’t entirely mask his annoyance. It seemed that the engine on the Intrepid had malfunctioned and was being taken off line. Standard procedure to notify the captain when doing so and since one had yet to be assigned to that ship, Archer was contacted. Thankfully it did not need his presence, just his acknowledgement and go-ahead. He closed his communicator and slipped it back into his pocket then turned his attention back to Danaë.

“So what made you come back here tonight? The last time we spoke you weren’t so certain about ‘us’.”

“I only own two outfits,” she answered. This statement made no sense and he furrowed his brow slightly in confusion. What did her wardrobe have to do with their relationship?

“What?”

‘I was sitting in my quarters this afternoon and my uniforms and underwear were delivered from the laundry. As I put them away I saw one of my civilian outfits sitting in the drawer then looked in the mirror and saw myself wearing the other. This made me feel a bit nostalgic and I decided to bring up my old personal logs from before I was pulled back in time. I told you about Paul Hughes, my could-have-been and how he all the time said that I was either trying to outrun my destiny or trying to discover it. I never really believed it until I started reading those entries.”

“You just needed to discover yourself,” he shrugged.

“You’re right. For fifteen years I was nothing more than a leaf blowing in the wind going everywhere and nowhere all at once. I only owned two outfits because I had to be able to carry my belongings with me and what I owned had to be absolutely useful and practical. Reading those logs I suddenly realized I wasn’t that person anymore. I have roots for the first time in decades. I have meaning and purpose and all of it is because of you.” She clasped his hand in hers and held it tightly. “You and I are never gonna agree on how knowledge of the future and timeline preservation should be handled, but it doesn’t really matter. Without you I would be lost. I know that with every fiber of my being. So I got a new outfit that is totally impractical for my lifestyle and came here hoping to discover you waiting beneath the clock.”

Archer pulled her into his arms and held her. He didn’t believe he had given her anything as grand as she described. He had simply added another crewman to his ship, a crewman with a very particular set of skills that had been quite handy more than once. Hacking could have served her in almost any line of work. He had simply been lucky enough to recruit her first and whether she knew it or not, he needed her just as much as she needed him, maybe more. Softly in her ear he suggested they go home and she readily agreed, taking his hand in hers.

While their personal lives may have been doing better, waiting on a decision from the Coalition of Planets was still frustrating and stressful. Another month had passed with the delegates still heavy in debate over what to do. It wasn’t that they didn’t believe in Captain Hernandez’s innocence, but rather, whether they could risk taking on a powerful enemy like the Romulans. Archer desperately wanted to speak with the delegates, but they would allow no outside influence. In the meantime, new Earth ships were coming closer to completion and two senior Starfleet officers were promoted to captain, including an old friend of Archer, named Carlos Ramirez.

It took exactly four months and Thirteen days for the delegates to finally reach a decision. The entire crew of the Enterprise NX-01 was present when the Coalition of Planets announced their findings. They fully exonerated Captain Hernandez of any wrongdoing. The Romulan government was furious and in response they immediately declared war on Earth vowing to destroy them all. This promise became a rallying cry that brought all of Earth together in the common cause of fighting this new enemy and surviving. Completing Starfleet’s last vessel Challenger became top priority along with finishing two cruisers and commandeering every available Earth freighter, cargo ship, survey vessel and fuel carrier. They were fitted with phasers as well as torpedoes and given hull plating that could resist Romulan firepower. With all of this, Earth still had a far from impressive fleet and there was no doubt they were outnumbered, out-gunned, and in over their heads.

If Captain Archer had been uncertain of success during the Xindi conflict, he had less hope of victory now. Trip, Malcolm and Travis had each been offered the chance to captain one of the ships that were available but each had preferred to remain on the NX-01. They wanted to fight alongside their captain on the ship they loved. Seeing this loyalty from his crew both touched Archer’s heart and also saddened him because he feared the outcome of the war. Perhaps he would have been more optimistic if he had been assured the full support of the Coalition’s allies.

The Vulcans, as all the time, withheld full support, but did give a token amount of weapons and men. It was obvious, to Archer at least, that their logic was to do just enough to keep friendly with Earth, but not enough to be pulled into a full on war with the Romulans. In true form, Andoria took a very different approach. Thanks mostly to Shran’s influence and his reminder to them of all the humans had done, Archer in particular. This was a gift the captain wasn’t sure he could pay back. The Tellerites were torn as to which way they should go, but ultimately offered a few ships and men. They were not a warrior people and felt that it would be foolhardy to antagonize such a powerful race.

With or without the help of Earth’s allies, the conflict was here and there was no backing down. Archer would do whatever was necessary to win this war, and gave inspiring speeches rallying Earth to the cause. In private he had very little hope of success. This feeling only got worse as he caught snippets of conversations from young, untried MACO’s waiting to board transports to their assigned ships. They were laughing and joking about how they would chase the enemy back to Romulus or straight to Hell. They bragged about their prowess with a phase pistol and just how many of the enemy they could pick off even shooting from extreme distances. Strange, had he and the rest of the Enterprise felt the same way when they had gone after the Xindi? Yes, but such ideas disappear very quickly with the first engagement.

Going over crew assignments, he was surprised to see one name assigned over the MACO’s on the Enterprise. Nathan Forrest was the son of the late Admiral Forrest who had been a good friend and supporter of Archer. He had not laid eyes on Nathan since the night of the banquet welcoming the crew home from the Xindi conflict and it was not a good memory. At the time he had shown just how pampered and naive he was and Lt. D’Arcy had quickly put him in his place. When he presented himself to Archer for this mission he was asked what had made him change from Starfleet to the Military Assault Command Operations, or MACO’s. His answer was a simple one. The Lieutenant’s dressing down at the banquet had first opened his eyes to the reality that he didn’t know the first thing about what it really meant to serve. When his father, Admiral Forrest was killed protecting Ambassador Soval, he decided that he wanted to prove himself and be worthy of his father’s legacy. These were reasons Captain Archer could easily find out and was glad to have him on board, although he joked that the major might want to stay away from Lt. D’Arcy.

The night before departure, Commander Tucker was verifying that the engine of every ship in the fleet was ready and at peak performance. He also joked to the other chief engineers that they might want to make sure they had plenty of duct tape and W-D 40 on hand. This wasn’t entirely a laughing matter. He had learned the hard way during the Xindi conflict that there would be plenty of moments when you would be holding the engines together with little more than luck and a prayer. Lt. Reed was going over each and every weapons system and locker for the one millionth time to be sure that each torpedo, phase cannon and pistol was ready and accounted for. Perhaps the fighting would be ship to ship, but more than likely there would also be plenty of hand-to-hand combat. It was best that every ship be prepared for such a possibility. Dr. Phlox was finally sitting down and eating a meal of Chinese food after ensuring that all the ship’s doctors had everything they could possibly need and more. It was all the time better to have too much than too little. There would be enough casualties without causing more because of a lack of supplies.