Chapter Text
~o~
It took them three days to gather all the required evidence, and Chris thought too much hacking was involved, but Jim had been on a rampage, aided and abetted by his new best friends in Section 31.
As it turned out, arrogant men who thought they were in the right were less discrete than they ought to be. While the genesis of the plan had been a simple conversation, the planning and execution had been documented via secure—or so they thought—communications.
Of course, none of them had counted on an angry Guide with a Sentinel who'd never expected to be a Sentinel. Chris thought maybe it was poetic justice.
Now, all that remained was to clean up the mess as much as they could.
After much debate, Vice Admiral Klein decided to call in the big guns. They were currently seated in the Flag Staff conference room, waiting for the rest of the staff to join the meeting. Chris had been in the room several times, supporting his boss during discussions that touched on operations and readiness within the Fleet, so he wasn't unfamiliar with the room. He was still uncomfortable.
He glanced over his shoulder to see Jim and Cadet Uhura sitting behind them, dressed in their Academy uniforms and speaking quietly as they patiently waited for the meeting to start. Jim had easily completed the intake requirements just the day before and would be joining Cadet Uhura starting the next quarter.
To say the Academy brass were over the moon would be underselling it. Or, at least, they'd been excited at the start until Jim had told them that under no circumstances was his attendance at the Academy to be used in any way as a recruitment tool. Chris had watched disappointment cross the face of more than one Academy board member.
The staff began filtering in, none giving Chris a second glance. His presence wasn't exactly usual, but he'd been in the meeting enough times that he wasn't an unexpected addition. Though he normally didn't sit at the table with Klein. If anyone noticed, they didn't mention it.
Admiral Marcus had yet to arrive, but Chris didn't think much of it. He was typically late to these meetings; knowing they couldn't start without him made him dismissive of anyone else's time. They were expecting one more person, and when the door opened, he stepped into the room as if he'd never left.
Everyone in the room stood, drawing a smile out of their guest. He waved a hand even as he crossed the room to the seat left vacant by Marcus' late arrival. "Please, sit down."
"Sir, we weren't expecting you," Admiral Barnett said as they all took their seats. Chris could see the surprise the man couldn’t quite hide.
"I thought I'd come by and see how the old place is doing," Jonathan Archer said as he leaned back in his chair.
"It's good to see you again, sir," Klein said.
Archer nodded at him, a small smile playing on his lips. "It's good to be seen, Richard."
Chris watched the man engage with the rest of the staff, some of whom were there before his retirement, though most were appointed by Marcus when he was promoted to head up Starfleet. He was still looking as young and fit as he had the day he'd retired at 75.
Something Archer had encountered while in the Delphic Expanse during the original Enterprise's early years had altered his DNA and that of many of his crew. They all aged slower than normal for a human and were incredibly healthy and fit for such an advanced age. Doctor Phlox had refused to discuss the matter, and all the records from Enterprise were under a seal that Chris wasn't sure would ever be lifted. Whatever it was, it was either unreproducible or dangerous as hell, so it was probably best that it stayed a mystery.
The end result was that Admiral Archer looked like he'd barely aged a day in the last five years, which Chris privately thought made him seem even more invincible than before he'd retired.
Finally, after nearly twenty minutes, Admiral Marcus swanned in. "I don't have a lot of time today, so—what the fuck are you doing in my chair?"
Archer swung around and stared at his one-time protégé. "Don't you mean my chair?"
"Admiral Archer," Marcus said flatly. "I didn't realize you planned to join us today."
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd drop by," Archer said. The lie seemed to roll easily off his tongue.
Marcus sat down next to Archer, a sour expression flashing over his face before he schooled it into his usual mask. "Was there something, in particular, you wanted to discuss today?"
"No, no," Archer said. "I'm just here to observe. I'm sure you have a full enough agenda without me getting in the way."
"As I said before I was interrupted," Marcus said, again flashing that same sour expression, "I don't have much time today, so this was going to be merely a quick check-in meeting. So, unless anyone has anything urgent, I think we can adjourn until next week when my schedule should be much lighter.
"Actually, I have something to discuss," Brenton Alder said.
"Section 31 doesn't normally attend this meeting, Admiral Alder," Marcus said, a hint of scathing disapproval in his tone.
Chris wished he was surprised by that, but given his interactions with Section 31 recently, the lack of oversight made a lot of sense. Although, he had high hopes that Alder was going to change all that.
"True, my predecessor didn't normally attend," Alder said. "He didn't believe Section 31 needed any oversight, but I'm not built that way. Accountability is the only way to keep our organization from straying from the mission."
"And what mission is that, exactly?" Marcus asked.
"We are charged with protecting Starfleet and the Federation from our enemies, both within and outside our organization," Alder said without missing a beat.
"Finding many enemies inside Starfleet, are you?"
Alder hummed. "You'd be surprised. Or not."
Marcus shifted in his chair, which was a tell if ever Chris had seen one. A couple of others at the table shared furtive glances; Chris made note of who they were, though he suspected Alder had already marked them for follow-up.
"Are you telling me that there are people within Starfleet committing crimes that are going unprosecuted?" Marcus said. "I would think that would be a poor reflection on your department, Admiral Alder. Perhaps we should be looking to disband Section 31."
"If there are problems within Starfleet, they come to me," Admiral DeKalb, the head of Fleet Security, said. "As you well know, Admiral."
"And are you aware of any issues that need attention?" Marcus asked.
Chris was getting tired of this tap dance. They were all talking around the issue instead of going at it head-on. In his opinion, it was a waste of time, but he also understood that coming at Marcus directly might backfire spectacularly. Still, they were going to have to get to the heart of the issue soon.
"Operations has been doing a budget review for the last few weeks, as you know," DeKalb said, smoothly folding their investigation and hacking into the ongoing budget process. "We've discovered some irregularities in some of the historical data, which is concerning."
"Is this related to the issue you were going to bring up?" Marcus asked Alder. "Because if it's not, we can table it until next week."
"It's connected, yes," Alder said. He waved a hand at DeKalb. "We've been coordinating with Vice Admiral Klein to verify some details about the Guardian Protocol. Many of the budget irregularities relate to that project, so we've been working through various databases to verify budget lines that support Guardian."
Marcus sat frozen like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming vehicle. He cleared his throat and affected an air of casual disinterest as he leaned back in his chair. "We don't have a Guardian Protocol."
"We actually do," Klein said. "My team has found the files detailing when and how it was activated. It was buried so deeply in the database that it took a while to find it."
"And what is this mythical Guardian Protocol you're talking about?" Marcus asked.
"The Guardian Protocol was designed to rebuild the Sentinel and Guide population within the Federation," Alder said. "Using genetic enhancements that the Federation currently bans."
There was dead silence in the room. Marcus was looking distinctly uncomfortable, and Admirals West and Barnett didn't look much better. West had come up through Medical, so he'd had access to patients actually to deliver the gene therapy. Barnett had been in Operations until he'd joined the Academy's board. He'd been the one to scatter the Guardian budget lines throughout the Fleet in a bid to avoid detection.
"I'm sure you have proof of this," Marcus said silkily, looking a bit more relaxed as if he believed they couldn’t possibly have the proof they'd need. Little did he know the proof was sitting right behind Chris.
"Of course," Alder said. He tapped out a sequence on the terminal in front of him. Shortly after, every terminal in the room beeped, indicating the arrival of a file. "I've just sent a file to everyone detailing the budget malfeasance, as well as a copy of the medical research into the artificial gene used to create these Sentinels and Guides."
"And do you have proof that any Sentinels or Guides have actually been created with this highly illegal therapy?" Marcus asked.
"As a matter of fact, we do," Klein said.
Cadet Uhura stood up and looked directly at Admiral Marcus. "A week ago, and without any family history of Sentinels or Guides in my family, I came online as a Sentinel."
Marcus smiled at her. "Congratulations, young lady. I fail to see how that's relevant to the current discussion."
"That's a lie," Uhura said. "Right now, I can see the nervous sweat on your forehead and the tick over your left eye. That's a stress reaction. I can smell your concern, which would ordinarily be a good thing. You're being presented with evidence that someone's committed a crime, so you should be concerned. But that concern is laced with fear, and as far as I can see, there's nothing here that should scare you. Unless you're afraid of getting caught."
Again, silence reigned in the room. Marcus was looking less and less like a man in control. Chris was proud of Jim and Uhura for all the hard work they'd put in over the last week to get her to a point where she could confront the man who'd done this to her, but it was far from over.
"For having become a Sentinel a week ago, you have remarkable control of your senses," Marcus said. "Tell me, how do you know there are no Sentinels in your family line? Records were destroyed during the Eugenics Wars, so no one can say for sure. Perhaps there are ancestors you know nothing about who carried the gene."
"Records in Africa were largely spared redaction," Alder said. "We were able to piece together the Cadet's family records from several verified sources. She's correct when she says that there are no Sentinels in her family history."
"All right," Marcus said. He leaned forward, a storm brewing behind his eyes. "Come out with it. Who are you accusing of committing a crime, and what crime, exactly, are you accusing them of?"
"We're accusing you of these crimes," Alder said mildly. "I thought you'd figured that out already."
Marcus paused, clearly surprised that Alder had just come right out and said it. Maybe he expected them to dance around it some more.
"I think you'll find, if you review your so-called evidence, that you're entirely mistaken," Marcus said. "I had nothing to do with this, and you can't prove that I did."
"Actually," Uhura said. All eyes swung to her. "We have a lot of evidence that points directly to you and your two accomplices, Admirals West and Barnett. You lied just now when you said you had nothing to do with it." Marcus frowned at her, but she just smirked. "Perhaps you don't know enough about Sentinels. You see, I can smell it when your scent pile changes. That happens when you're happy, sad, afraid, angry, or any other emotional response you may have. Each of those emotions gives off a different scent. I can also see the micro-expressions on your face that give away what you really mean when you speak. So, I know exactly when you're lying and when you're telling the truth." She paused. "For the record, you haven't told the truth since you walked into this room."
"So, I really have just one question," Alder said. "Why? What gave you the right to alter people against their will?"
Marcus leaned back, a calculating look on his face. Then, he shrugged. "We have enemies, Admiral Alder. Enemies that are more powerful than we are. We need an edge that makes us just as much of a threat as they are. The Romulans don't fear garden-variety humans, but what about a human with five advanced senses and more intelligence in their pinky toe than any hundred Romulans? That's something worth looking into. As it turns out, we had the ability to… give evolution a little nudge. None of what we did was illegal, so I'm afraid this exercise has been full of sound and fury yet signifying nothing at all."
"That's where you're wrong," DeKalb said. "I had the Federation prosecutor look over the evidence and the Federation Charter. As it turns out, there's a whole paragraph in a different section from the one that bans genetic manipulation that bans any gene therapy that would alter future generations. You see, you can use gene therapy to cure a genetic disease or anomaly, but the therapy must be structured in such a way that it isn't capable of being passed on to your offspring."
"That means it's illegal to give people a gene therapy that'll affect their children," Alder said mildly. "Which makes you guilty of violating the Federation Charter, not to mention the human rights of a whole lot of people."
"We did what we had to," Marcus said, voice gone hard. "We made the only choice we could to make sure we could defend ourselves. I doubt any single one of you would have acted any differently."
"There's where you're wrong," Archer said quietly. All eyes swung to him. He'd sat and watched the whole drama unfold, not saying anything, so everyone—Chris included—had pretty much forgotten he was even in the room. "I wouldn't have done what you did. I believe in the Federation and its ideals. I was there when it was created. Maybe it was naïve of me to believe that everyone else would feel the same way."
"What was naïve was believing that things would stay the same," Marcus said. "Believing that we'd never come up against an enemy that outclassed us in every way. Believing that there's inherent goodness in all beings everywhere.
"You're a naïve fool for not seeing that sometimes we have to break the rules in order to save people," Marcus said coldly. "You want Starfleet to focus on exploration and peacekeeping, but you failed to recognize that in order for there to be peace, you have to survive the war. Sentinels and Guides will win that war for us. Without them, your precious Federation will cease to exist"
"Then perhaps it's time for it to die," Archer said quietly. "Because I want no part of the future you're planning."
"And I don't want weak old fools guiding us into the future," Marcus said. "So, if you'll excuse us, we have work to do."
Marcus turned away from Archer as if he'd put the issue to rest. Chris was stunned by the arrogance and hubris on display, but perhaps he shouldn't have been. It took a lot of both those things to do what he'd done.
The doors to the room hissed open. Marcus threw a narrow-eyed glare at the dozen security guards entering the room. They spread themselves around the room, standing behind the occupants at parade rest. DeKalb nodded at the leader of the group; they moved in and dragged Admirals Marcus, West, and Barnett out of their seats to handcuff them and walk them out of the room.
It all happened so quickly and efficiently that the remaining officers were left in stunned silence when the door closed behind them.
~o~
The staff meeting paused for barely ten minutes while replacements for two of the three Admirals were summoned. Vice Admiral Boyce—who was head of Medical at the Academy—entered the room with a woman Jim didn't recognize but knew by reputation.
Vice Admiral Alyssa Leung, Associate Dean of Students at the Academy, had been the one to put her foot down—metaphorically speaking—when the Academy brass had started making noises about using him as a living recruitment poster. He appreciated her defending him, even if it had been from a distance.
The two officers settled into the vacant seats, and an unnamed woman of apparent Vulcan heritage sat in the chair Admiral Marcus had occupied.
"Well, that was certainly… a lot," Admiral Archer said, in the understatement of the day.
A ripple of uncomfortable amusement passed through the room. Jim was feeling the stress and confusion rise and fall as everyone tried to deal with or compartmentalize what they'd seen. To his knowledge—and he'd studied Starfleet extensively because he'd wanted to learn everything there was to know about the organization his father had lived and died for—nothing like this had ever happened before. Where they went from here was anybody's guess.
"Sir, not to sound ignorant, but what do we do now?" Admiral Ishihara, the head of Technology Development, asked. "Without Admiral Marcus, we have no one to lead us."
"I wouldn't say that," Alder said. He received nods from DeKalb and Klein; Jim figured whatever came next had been part of their plan.
"As head of Operations, I have the discretion to recall anyone currently retired from service," Klein said. "With your permission, Admiral Archer, I'm going to request that you be reactivated, and I'll send a recommendation to the Federation Council that you be appointed to a new term leading Starfleet."
Archer nodded his agreement. "I would be happy to return to the big chair. Retirement was boring me silly, anyway."
Chuckles flowed through the room, lightening the mood significantly. Jim thought maybe that was Archer's superpower: putting people at ease so they could get the job done.
"I'd like to introduce my daughter, T'Lana of Vulcan," Archer said, indicating the woman sitting next to him. "She's been serving in the Vulcan Science Corps for the last ten years but has agreed to be seconded to Starfleet as my aide. Perhaps she'll want to take on space exploration as a hobby if you're very lucky."
"We'd be pleased to have you, T'Lana," Klein said. "I'll coordinate with you as we work through Admiral Archer's reactivation."
"I would appreciate that, Admiral Klein," T'Lana said. It was obvious she knew more about them than they knew about her. "My father can be trying at times and less than communicative."
"I learned that from your mother," Archer muttered.
It was a well-known fact that Archer had fallen in love with his First Officer at some point during the original Enterprise's maiden voyage. Rumors had flown throughout Starfleet that there was some sort of love triangle involving Archer, T'Pol, and Commander Tucker, though no one was sure which two of the three were involved. The more salacious corners of Starfleet had said it was a threesome, owing to Archer and Tucker being longtime friends.
Jim had always thought that Archer would have stepped aside if his friend was truly in love with the Vulcan. The fact that Tucker and Hoshi Sato—Enterprise's Communications Officer—got married as part of a ritual during an away mission and then just… never filed for dissolution always seemed to be forgotten in that whole discussion. Personally, Jim thought maybe there was a foursome angle everyone had missed.
At any rate, T'Lana's parentage had never been in question, but that didn't stop people from gossiping.
"At the risk of sounding like a broken record," Ishihara said, "that still leaves the issue of where we go from here. Admiral Archer is beyond the retirement age for flag officers, so there's that to deal with. Plus, we have to think about co-conspirators. Surely, these three men didn't hatch and execute this plan alone. There must be others."
"Agreed," DeKalb said. "We've been pursuing leads on several individuals who aided Admiral Marcus in this conspiracy. Our expectation is that those officers will give us others who are involved either directly or tangentially."
"Just how deep does this go?" Leung asked. "The explanation I received on my way over from my office was… brief, to say the least."
"We believe the actual conspiracy to involve very few individuals," Alder said. "They would have kept it tight by necessity. The fewer people that know, the less risk of them being found out."
"Altogether, we're looking at less than a dozen people at this point," DeKalb said. "They operated exclusively out of headquarters, so they didn't need to involve people at other Starfleet installations."
"Which we're grateful for because that would have complicated our investigation to an untold degree," Klein said. "As to your question regarding Admiral Archer's age, we're going to defer to Medical to determine what an appropriate retirement age should be." He shared a look with Boyce, who nodded his agreement. "Right now, it's set at 75, but given that humans are living longer due to advancements in medical knowledge, we've decided that it's appropriate to reevaluate retirement mandates across the board. In the interim, we are authorizing an exception for the Admiral, pending changes to the regulations."
"We still have a rather large issue to address," Boyce said. He glanced over to Jim and Nyota. "We have a lot of people out in the Fleet, not to mention people who haven't yet joined or may never join, who are basically ticking time bombs."
"Did they keep any records of the people they gave this therapy to?" Leung asked.
"They were meticulous about their record-keeping, thankfully," Boyce said. "Their intent was to track any children born of parents that were given this gene therapy, so they'd know if or when they came online. Because they were born to parents who served, it was fairly likely that they'd already be inclined to serve themselves, but tracking them enabled Marcus and the others to encourage service when necessary."
"Has it occurred to anyone that these people would be considered Augments under Federation law?" Archer asked quietly. "Even if the parents were unwillingly altered—and that is most certainly a crime—the children are the ones who bear the mark of altered DNA. We're going to need to approach the Federation with a plan for how to handle the legal circumstances these people will find themselves in. I'm not on board with condemning them for something they had no active part in."
Jim elbowed Nyota, who stood up. "If I may, Admiral Archer?" When he nodded and leaned back in his chair, Nyota cleared her throat. "I'm one of them, sir. My parents were involved with the Diplomatic Corps for years. I don't know which one of them was given this gene therapy, but maybe it doesn't matter. What matters is that there will be many more like me in the coming years. Whether you want to call us Augments or just Sentinels and Guides, we need someone to advocate for us. We're going to need support and training. Not all of us will want to join Starfleet, so that also needs to be considered. I can tell you that I've wanted to serve since I was a young girl, and my heart has been set on space for as long as I can remember.
"But there will be other Sentinels who feel… more connected to the Earth than I do," she said. "You need to plan for that. You need to make sure that all Sentinels and Guides are protected and given everything they could possibly need, not just to survive but thrive."
She sat down as silence enveloped the room. It seemed everyone in the room was giving her words serious consideration. Finally, Archer leaned forward, a contemplative expression on his face.
"I agree with you, Cadet Uhura," he said. "As an organization, we failed your parents. It's not an option to fail you, as well. And given that this has been going on for years, there will be a lot of people in the future that we'll need to provide for. I'll be recommending to the Federation Council that an organization be created under their auspices to advocate for and train Sentinels and Guides. Cadet, I'd like you and your Guide to be involved as much as your studies allow."
"Thank you, sir," Nyota said. Jim squeezed her hand, offering his gratitude physically and through their bond. "We'd be happy to serve."
"Good," Archer said. "We have a lot of work ahead of us, people. Once news of this conspiracy gets out, there will be a lot of questions. People are going to lose faith in us. Our job will be to restore that faith."
~o~
Three Years Later
Nyota came awake slowly, enjoying the opportunity to just lay there in the arms of her Guide. They didn't often have days like this when they could take their time getting up. Today was a big day, but they were as ready as they were going to be.
"We should get up soon," Jim said quietly.
"We have time," Nyota said as she snuggled deeper into his embrace. "The shuttle doesn't leave until 1600 hours, and we're all packed. What's left to do?"
"You never want to sleep in, Ny," he observed.
"We're not likely to get many opportunities once Enterprise launches, so I'm taking advantage," she said.
"It'll be good to get back out there, though," he said. "I've been itching to get back ever since we did that rotation last year."
"That was fun, wasn't it?" she asked.
Jim laughed. "If you call getting kidnapped and stripped naked fun, then yeah, it was loads of fun."
"That princess," Nyota huffed. "Seriously, I wanted to ask her how she thought kidnapping was acceptable behavior, but Captain Guillaume wouldn't let me."
"She was petrified of you, you know," he said. "When she realized that I belonged to you, she let me go pretty quickly. She made me promise I'd keep you from harming her."
"She's lucky the captain was being so reasonable," Nyota said darkly. "I still can't believe that Guillaume actually got between me and my kidnapped Guide. Somebody should really explain to him that's not a smart thing to do."
"I complained to Fleet HQ about that," he said. "That's why everyone had to do all that training, and they've included a full course on working with Sentinels and Guides at the Academy as well."
In just the last three years, dozens of Sentinels and Guides had come online. The vast majority of them had subsequently enlisted in Starfleet and had automatically been slotted into the Academy. More were coming online every day, so far from being over, Nyota thought it was just getting started.
"We need to get going," Jim said. He pressed a kiss to her brow. "We shouldn't make Admiral Archer wait. You know how he gets."
"It's not him you should be worried about," Nyota said. She threw back the covers and got up before she could talk herself out of it. "It's T'Lana you need to be worried about. She's like a dragon guarding a vault."
"Any idea why he wants to see us?" Jim asked as he rolled out of bed.
Nyota shrugged. "No, and T'Lana was no help when I asked her. She just reminded me to be on time to avoid messing up the Admiral's schedule."
"Even when his appointments are on time, he's still behind schedule because he likes to chat," Jim said. "She's a Vulcan; she's not supposed to want to willingly fight losing battles."
"She's his daughter, so she's probably more tolerant of his shenanigans than most," Nyota said. "Make sure you wear your dress uniform today."
"I hate those uniforms," he muttered. "They're so uncomfortable."
"Be glad you get to wear the Sentinel-safe version," she said. "The standard dress uniform is made out of the same material as our old Academy uniforms. Those things itch like crazy."
They went through their morning routine at a more leisurely pace than usual. Enterprise wasn't warping out until the next day, but they had to report tonight. So, this was effectively their last day on Earth for the next three months. Once they'd finished breakfast, they headed out for the headquarters building across campus.
They passed through Security with no issues and rode the lift up to the top floor. The door slid open to reveal T'Lana sitting behind her desk in the outer office, appearing to be patiently waiting for them.
"Thank you for arriving early," she said as they approached her desk. "The Admiral is waiting for you."
"Thank you," Jim said. "How long do we have with Admiral Archer today?"
"He has no other appointments scheduled this morning," T'Lana said.
Nyota fought hard to keep the grimace off her face. "He does know we're reporting to Enterprise today, right?"
"He is aware," T'Lana said. "You may go in now."
"Thanks," Jim said.
Nyota walked through the door to Archer's office, Jim following behind. The office was huge by the standards of basically anyone who had an office at HQ. One wall of floor-to-ceiling windows with a desk and two visitor chairs at one end and a sitting area with a couch and side chairs at the other end. Instead of waiting for them behind his massive desk, Archer was seated on the couch, sipping a cup of coffee and watching something on the large screen on the wall.
"Come in," he said with a wide, welcoming smile as he shut off the video screen. "Join me for a cup of coffee?"
"Thank you, sir," Jim said.
Jim tried to reach for the pot to pour cups for himself and Nyota, but Archer just frowned at him and poured for both of them. Nyota could sense his discomfort with that level of deference through their bond, but she figured that was the wrong fight to pick, so she just nudged him mentally. He frowned but gave in less than gracefully.
They both sat down on the couch when Archer settled into one of the side chairs. His smile told her he knew they were uncomfortable but seemed to be enjoying it.
"I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you to come see me today," Archer said.
"The thought did cross my mind, sir," Jim said with a smirk.
"You're both being honored by the Federation for your work helping to build up a Sentinel and Guide organization," Archer said without preamble. "You put a lot of time and effort into standing up that organization despite the fact that you were both carrying a full load at the Academy. That hasn't gone unnoticed."
"Thank you, sir," Nyota said. "We didn't do it for any sort of recognition, but it's nice to know our work has been appreciated."
"I'd also like to add my thanks in a more informal setting," Archer said. "You did a helluva thing. You should both be very proud of the work you've done."
Within days of Admiral Marcus' arrest, the Federation Council had reached out to every Sentinel and Guide pair on Earth—a grand total of five active pairs—to ask them to be involved in standing up the new Sentinel and Guide Authority. They'd had to create a set of bylaws that were in compliance with the Federation charter, determine the potential future needs of latent and online Sentinels and Guides, and create processes and procedures for any and all circumstances they might face.
They'd also had to decide on leadership and a physical location for the first Sentinel and Guide Center. Leadership, as it turned out, was the hardest hurdle. Sentinels weren't interested in office work, though Guides were well suited for the sort of work required for the new organization.
"We just provided input," Jim said. "Captain Pike and Doctor McCoy are the real heroes of the whole process. They've both been online a lot longer and better understood what needed to be done."
"It might interest you to know that I had a very similar conversation with Chris and Eleanor," Archer said. "And they said something similar about you."
"I guess we've got some sort of mutual admiration society going on, then," Jim said. "I sincerely hope no one expects us to give a speech."
"No, no speeches," Archer said with a chuckle. "At least, you won't have to give one. There will be a ceremony when Enterprise returns from her shakedown cruise. I think they'll probably ask one of the other pairs to speak."
"Someone who's staying on Earth," Nyota said, nodding her head. "Makes sense. They'll be the ones running the Center, so they should really be the public face of this."
"Are you ready for your deployment?" Archer asked.
Jim shrugged. "As ready as we'll ever be. We've trained for this—not just as a Sentinel-Guide pair but as officers in Starfleet. I've been looking forward to this since our internship aboard the Grissom."
"Any advice for us, sir?" Nyota asked.
"Enjoy it," Archer said, flashing the smile of a young man seeing the universe for the first time. "It's pretty wild out there, as you know, but also awe-inspiring. Don't be afraid to stop and really see where you are. You may never pass that way again."
"That's some pretty good advice," Jim said.
Archer shrugged. "I was in your shoes a long time ago. Of course, I was older than you at the time, but when we headed out on our first mission… it was a heady feeling."
"May I ask you a question, sir?" Nyota elbowed Jim; she shot him the burn of her irritation through their bond, but he ignored it when Archer waved for him to continue. "You and Commander Tucker… did you have a thing with Commander T'Pol and Lt. Commander Sato?"
"Is that what the rumor mill is spitting out these days? A foursome?" Archer asked. He sent a sly smile Jim's way. "A gentleman never tells his secrets."
Jim pointed at the Admiral. "That's not a no, sir."
Archer just laughed.
~o~
"Captain on deck," Commander Spock called out as Captain Pike entered the bridge.
"Thank you, Commander," Pike said as he took his seat in the center of the bridge.
Nyota took a deep breath. They were scheduled to leave the space dock in mere minutes, and she couldn’t wait. This was what she'd been waiting her whole life for. She glanced over at Jim, seated at the Operations console. He smiled and winked at her, sending her a shot of his own excitement through their bond.
As preparations went on around her, she took a moment to send her gratitude to Jim. Without him, she'd be lost; it was more than him being her Guide. His experience and ease with the whole idea of Sentinels and Guides allowed her to accept and embrace what she'd become. A simple thank you would never be enough for all that he'd done for her.
Her console beeped with an incoming message. She keyed up the ident code, finding the transmission originated at Starfleet HQ from Admiral Archer's office.
"Captain, we have an incoming message from Starfleet," she said as she spun around. "Admiral Archer would like to speak to you."
"Put him on screen, Lieutenant," Pike said.
She turned back to her console and pressed the button to accept the message before transferring it to the main view screen. Admiral Archer's smiling face filled the screen.
"Captain Pike," Archer said. "I won't take much of your time, but I thought I'd wish you well on your shakedown cruise."
"Thank you, sir," Pike said. "We're as ready as we'll ever be. Any last-minute instructions?"
"Don't scratch the pain," Archer shot back. A ripple of laughter moved through the bridge. "We've teed up a few strictly diplomatic stops for you; just do us all a favor and don't give away the homeworld."
"I'll try to remember that," Pike said.
"Keep your eyes peeled for the Narada," Archer said, a serious expression crossing his face. "We've gotten more reports of sightings. I'm going to order you specifically not to engage on this trip. Just report back any sightings."
"Yes, sir," Pike said.
Nyota knew the orders wouldn't sit right with Pike; they didn't sit well with her at all. But she also knew that their ship was staffed with a lot of young officers fresh out of the Academy. With such an inexperienced crew, there was no way they were prepared to engage a ship like the Narada.
Not that she could see Pike walking away from a fight if they did come across the Narada, but she figured they'd cross that bridge if they came to it.
"Fair winds and following seas, Captain," Archer said. "We'll see you in three months."
"Thank you, sir," Pike said. "Enterprise out."
The screen went blank before returning to a view of the stars just beyond the space dock.
"All right, folks," Pike said, rubbing his hands together in what looked an awful lot like glee. "What do you say we take her out and see what she can do?"
A murmur of assent was the only reply.
"Good. Mr. Sulu, at your leisure," Pike said.
"Releasing docking clamps," Sulu said. "We're free. Engaging thrusters."
"Bring us around," Pike said. "Course 312 mark 224. Warp five."
"Course plotted and laid in," Sulu said mere seconds later.
Pike sat back and took a deep breath. "Punch it."
Nyota felt joy bursting over their bond. She looked over at Jim, who was smiling widely as he watched the smear of stars bloom on the main view screen. The warp effect was certainly beautiful.
Pike called for status updates from the bridge crew, and Nyota let the rhythm of it carry her through her shift. Today was the first day of her career, a day she'd worked hard for and one she hadn't been sure would come once she'd realized she was a Sentinel.
Her spirit animal—a majestic lioness she'd called Jasiri—rubbed against her shoulder as she monitored the comms frequencies for any transmissions or anomalies. She didn't often appear, but Nyota's emotions were running high today, so it made sense that she was close.
"We did it, girl," she whispered to Jasiri.
She could feel Jasiri's approval mingle with Jim's in her mind. She glanced over at him, and he winked at her. She couldn't have imagined any of this that day at the bar in Riverside, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.
~Finis