Each crew member could see and feel displeasure radiating from the captain and couldn't help giving sideways glances at Danaë as they filed out of the room. They whispered among themselves about how much trouble the lieutenant might be in for presumably side-stepping the captain and basic protocol, if indeed she had and there was some question among them about that. The last one to leave was Ensign Sato and she couldn't help but look up nervously at Archer then glance back at Lt. D'Arcy before the door closed behind her.
Once alone, neither spoke. They didn't need to. They just stared at each other with the full length of the table between them. Danaë already knew why he was upset and couldn't blame him. How many dangerous missions had she watched him go on and all she could do was hope for his safe return? What she was not going to do was back down from this fight. This mission, however dangerous, was their best hope. No matter how nauseated the antiseptic smell of hand sanitizer was making her, she would have to stand strong and show no sign of weakness. There could be no excuse for him to cancel the mission or remove her from it.
"What the Hell were you thinking?" Archer finally said. His voice was low and his demeanor calm, but the storm in his eyes was raging. "What you are suggesting is impossible."
"Things are only impossible until they aren't." The lieutenant had heard her father say these words at least a million times growing up and never doubted them.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" he asked, far from taken in by what seemed an elementary attempt at wisdom. "That's something you would say to encourage a child when they fail to catch the ball during a little league game. It's hardly an appropriate mantra when lives are on the line." Lt. D'Arcy started to open her mouth to object, but he gave her no chance. "There is a reason they call it impossible odds, lieutenant. All or most will fail at it, no not just fail, but die. Eventually someone will come along, maybe you, maybe someone else, and by the skin of their teeth they will manage to finally succeed. Meanwhile there are countless bodies still cooling off on the ground all around them, but hey, congratulations on it no longer being impossible."
Danaë stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. All her life she had heard nothing but respect and admiration for the things her father said. For the first time someone had dared to shred apart a Picardism and she didn't know how to handle it. She couldn't have been more surprised if she had witnessed someone poking holes in Confucious' words of wisdom. She would have to sell the idea to Archer without catchy phrases and the plan did have merit. For four years he had been searching for a break and if he wanted it then he would have to take risks whether he liked it or not.
"I am offering a solution to Starfleet's very big problem. If you recall, I told you years ago that you couldn't let your personal feelings get in the way of sending me on dangerous assignments."
"Assignment? You're committing suicide!" he shouted.
"I find that funny coming from you." The lieutenant answered. "Do you remember when I warned you that you couldn't beat the Borg and yet you still boarded their vessel with Malcolm Reed? How easily could you have been assimilated? Weren't you the one who insisted on piloting the Xindi insectoid shuttle on what was supposed to be a kamikaze mission? I believe you stayed behind on the Xindi weapon to ensure its destruction after everyone else got off. Are you the only one allowed to take risks?"
"Yes!"
"Why?" she challenged him.
"Because I am the captain and part of my job is to protect my crew and if that means sacrificing myself then so be it."
"The captain is responsible for every aspect of the voyage and vessel. They set course and speed, direct crew members, and ensure that proper procedures are followed, keeping logs and records of the ship's movements and cargo, and supervising the loading and unloading of cargo and passengers. During war time they coordinate military operations from battalion level down to companies and platoons. Tactical duties and responsibilities focus on tracking operations in the battlefield, relaying information, assessing results and helping plan new operations. NOT STICKING HIS BLOODY NECK OUT SO IT CAN BE CHOPPED OFF AND LEAVING HIS SHIP IN THE LURCH."
"I was never leaving it in the lurch, lieutenant! T'Pol is very..."
"The sub-commander is strong and intelligent, but tends to buckle under pressure and before you bring up Commander Tucker I will be the first to say no one is more knowledgeable with engines, but he can't put his emotions aside to take command of a ship," she argued.
"You are out of line, lieutenant!"
"Of course," she responded with a roll of her eyes. "When all else fails, pull rank."
She wasn't really surprised that Archer had resorted to that. She had grown up with a captain as a father and that particular position had a way of quickly ingraining itself into the person and was nearly impossible to set aside. His only response was to sigh in frustration. This was not about rank or even the validity of her plan. If he were leading the mission then the risk would be worth it, but he never liked seeing any of his crew put in such a position, least of all her. He also knew that she had a weakness that she had yet to reckon with and could easily be a liability on such a dangerous mission. For six years she had stubbornly refused to speak of it, even with him, but it was there and he would make her face it now.
"And if, while you are on this mission, you start having flashbacks, anxiety attacks, heart palpitations, headaches or nausea? I can't have an officer under my command freeze up, start shaking and find herself unable to breath at a critical moment and get everyone killed including herself." He hated himself for what he was saying to her, but this was a very real problem and one she needed to understand. So far she had been strong and the trauma very seldom interfered with her abilities, but there had been moments.
"You damn son of a bitch..." she growled.
"Maybe so," he snapped back. His concern was not without precedent. He still remembered the day The Vissian's had come to help with repairs on their ship. She was supposed to assist them with the computer core, but she started shaking violently and hyperventilating. Her mind had replayed the memory of the yamanu forcing her to upload a virus into the system in an attempt to destroy the ship and everyone on it. She had not told him of course, but he knew what had triggered it. On this mission there would be no one to catch her or give assistance if things went bad or she struggled. "At best what you're looking at is a delay getting into the tunnels or on the surface, at worst, you're standing before Cethin and you start shaking, giving yourself away and all of you end up imprisoned, tortured and killed. Sorry if this is hard for you to swallow, Dani, but there is a reason I don't send you on missions. I don't want to have to explain to families why I knowingly allowed their loved ones to go on a mission led by someone with known stability issues. Issues, I might add, whose triggers we can't readily predict."
