Status

            “It was Harrad-Sar,” Archer said to the monitor. Admiral Gardner’s face stared back at him. “The last time I saw him was…was 10 years ago. He’s a privateer.” He didn’t want to remember the way that mission had gone. Three Orion women purported to be gifts did their best to disable the men on Enterprise so that Harrad-Sar could capture Archer for the Orion Syndicate. He was certain those women were green devils by the end of that mission.

            “So how do you know?”

            “You never forget his kind – he’s not part of the Syndicate. He’s out for himself. Now that I think about it, he was mentioned when I was on Akal sorting out everyone’s part in that fiasco down there. I must have seen him at the shuttle.”

            “I can ask the Andorians to postpone the conference. Come home, get Mitchell help-“

            “Look, we’re out here; we’ve faced worse than this, far worse. Mitchell is going to be okay, he’s stable, and the rest of the crew will be back to duty in a day or two. Because, if you’re recalling Endeavour who knows if we’ll be taking sides in another war tomorrow!”

            “Alright, Jonathan, it’s your mission; carry on. I agree, this is an important assignment. Seems you’re the only human in Starfleet the Imperial Guard trusts.”

            “Well, Endeavor’s got a fine crew, don’t underestimate them. I’ll be on and off Andoria and back before you can write up the briefing. We can make Warp 3, it will take a little while but it’s never stopped Starfleet before. The engineering team may just get us up to Warp 5 in a few days, so stop worrying.”

            “I can order a Vulcan ship to evacuate Endeavor and tow you in.”

            “You’re joking,” Archer said sternly. The thought of Vulcans rescuing him after all these years was not an option, much less funny.

            “Yes, Jon, I am. Keep us posted, and safe journey. Gardner out.”

            Archer closed the channel and leaned back in the chair. Vulcans and Andorians trying to settle yet another border dispute without success. Why they were unable to agree on that insignificant corner of empty space was beyond his comprehension. He rose and went to the bridge.

            “What’s our status?” he asked anyone who might be there to answer. The view screen indicated they were at warp in normal space. A new ensign manned the weapons station, a lieutenant at the helm, Sato at communications. Ops was empty, as was the captain’s chair. Sato responded.

            “We’re at warp 3.1, en route to Andoria, arrival time expected nine days, sooner if engineering can affect repairs and intermix balance to the warp engines.”

            “Thank you, Commander.” He sat in the captain’s chair and hit a button on the arm. “Engineering, Archer, what’s your status?” He waited a moment for a response.

            “We’ve restored main power, but we can’t push the warp drive any more until we’ve repaired half a dozen EPS conduits. Transporters are off line. Weapons are online.”

            “Thank you, um…”

            “Lieutenant O’Malley, sir, Chief Engineer’s Mate.”

            “Where’s Jamison?”

            “We’re taking alternate shifts at the moment, sir.”

            “Estimate when we are going to up to warp 6?”

“Another day, sir, maybe sooner if we don’t have any more surprises.”

“Excellent, thank you, Lieutenant. Archer out.”

            Admiral Archer left the bridge for sick bay. Cots crowded the floor with the extra casualties, mostly minor from what he could tell. All three bio beds were occupied, including one by Captain Peter Mitchell. He and Pete had been classmates at Starfleet Academy now and then, for this class or that. Their friendship went back 20 years or more. He stood by the side of the bed, looking down at his friend. They’d not been close, but over the years they had been more than just classmates or acquaintances. He looked up at the monitor, and wasn’t sure what he might be looking at. Riaan in her blue scrubs came up behind the admiral.