Accused

jT's notes: Well, I know I said I'd never write anything again, but Silverbullet came up with a really great premise, and so . . . we're off!

This takes place a few years after the end of the Romulan War.

Admiral Gardner's aide entered his office, stopped in front of his desk, and saluted.

Gardner returned the salute and asked, "What is it?"

"The Illyrians."

"The Illyrians what?" growled Gardner.

"They want ... uh."

"Out with it man. I am busy," snapped Gardner.

"They have a request."

"About what? If they want to exchange ambassadors, send them to the diplomats. If it's about their application to join the Federation, have them see Admiral Archer."

"Well, they would like to see Admiral Archer."

"Well, send them to him. Why bother me with this?"

"They don't exactly want to see him. They want us to turn him over to them so they can take him, Commander Tucker, and Lieutenant Reed back to their homeworld."

""What for? Those men are busy they don't have time for an official visit or a tea party."

"Well. Sir, they want to put them on trial for piracy and murder."

"What!!" screeched Gardner.

"I am not sure of the details, but they say they have an extradition request. It is official."

""Horseshit and green grass. Get me Archer. Tell him to get in here on the double. Damn, I wanted this job."

Jonathan Archer glared straight ahead as Admiral Gardner read the charges:

"Your crew forcefully boarded the Illyrian science ship, threw a stun grenade, which slammed their chief engineer up against a wall. He died a week later of blunt force trauma to the head. Although you left the ship with a year supply's of food and three containers of trellium, the crew had to sell a portion of it in order to hire a local guide to lead them out of the Expanse. This so-called "guide" double crossed them, steered them into a trap . . . a second raid in which the crew lost their remaining supplies, except the potatoes you gave them. Presumably these were deemed too bulky to be worth stealing. The crew, minus the one causalty, made it home a little over a year later, which is how long it took their homeworld's government to outfit a second ship to come rescue of the first. Admiral Archer, I know this must be hard to hear."

"It is and it isn't . . . . All this time, I'd feared the worst . . ." He winced, but continued resolutely: "Sounds like 98 percent of that crew made it home alive." He glanced sideways at Captain Erica Hernandex sitting solemnly in a chair to his left.  "You wanted a front row seat to this drama?"

She looked concerned but not intimidated. "None of the officers who attended your debriefing after the Xindi Conflict could make it today. Gardner requested my input and I thought you'd appreciate the support."

"You told me 'What happens on the mountain . . .'" Archer's voice trailed off in a warning. Hernandez laid an assuring hand on his arm, and Gardner noted the intimacy:

"Admiral Archer, you are not being charged with fraternization, so frankly I don't give a rat's ass what happened on your mountain. But I will insist on full disclosure concerning these alleged crimes in the Expanse."

"The alleged 'crimes' took place!" Archer answered, stridently. "It's all in the report. I didn't conceal my actions from Starfleet."

"Bring me up to speed."

"I would have to review the testimony myself to remember the correct sequence of events," he said. "I've been working hard these past years to forget the battles . . ."

"Jonathan, please . . . you can trust the Admiral. We are not here to judge your actions . . ."

"No, but you're talking about handing me over to an alien justice system for trial . . ."

"I seriously doubt it  will come to that," Gardner said. " Right now this is an internal review."

"What do we know about their justice system?" Hernandez asked.

 "Not much, Starfleet intelligence is gathering such information as we speak."

"Be sure to ask about pain sticks . . ." Archer requested. "Wouldn't be a proper detention without the pain sticks-And ask about methods of interrogation: Do they string you up or tie you down before they beat you."

"Admiral Archer," Gardner growled, "My patience is wearing thin . . . save the theatrics for your next diplomatic mission."

"Sir, it's not a show," Hernandez cut in.

"PTSD?" Gardner asked. Jon and Erika exchanged wounded looks.

Gardner scowled his annoyance. "Admiral, these aren't the Xindi or the Romulans. In fact these Illyrians have been pretty damn decent-from the day they first applied for membership of the Federation up to the present.  To my knowledge, they have never treated another species hostilely."

"Except to defend their ship," Archer recalled, sorrowfully. "Exactly what I would have done in their position."  He absently wandered in a circle, like a trapped man looking for the exit.

"Jonathan Archer, you need to trust me. I would like to help, but you need to cooperate so we can begin to formulate a response to these allegations." Admiral Garner stood up and began to pace, his head bowed, as if debating strategy. This seemed to calm the other admiral.

"I do remember the 8 billion lives at stake," Archer began at last, " . . . and that the Illyrians refused to trade. We needed that warp coil to get to a rendezvous with a Xindi defector: Degra. He was offering to help us sabotage the weapon. I regret that innocent bystanders were harmed. Our offensive was aimed at incapacitating, not killing, the security personnel in our way."

"In all my years in Starfleet, I've never heard of anyone dying from a stun grenade," Hernandez said.

"That is unsurprising, since our enemies prefer lethal weapons," Gardner replied.

Archer said, "I'm surprised myself that a stun grenade proved lethal. I took precautions to minimize causalities. I minimized the risk to their crew, but I couldn't eliminate it altogether. I was forced into a corner."

Hernandez said, "I recall that at the debriefing from the Xindi mission, Admiral Forrest commended you on your actions."  

"And Ambassador Soval personally thanked me on his way out the door."

"You weren't entirely alone on this mission." Gardner reminded. "According to ship records, your Armory officer, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed used the transporter to extract the warp coil, while your Chief Engineer, Commander Charles Tucker, detached it from it's pier. Is that correct?"

"They were following my orders," Archer said. "Both voiced strong objections and had to be threatened into compliance."

Captain Hernandez grimaced at this probable lie.

"You want to protect the men who served under you," Gardner observed.

"Damn right!" Archer shouted, "Because that's what's owed to the subordinates who carry out their mission to the best of their abilities . . ."

"Jonathan, the truth. . .  ."

 "Here's the truth: in the Expanse, I crossed lines I never thought I'd cross. I regret the loss of innocent life in this case. But If I had it to do this over again . . . I'd probably board that ship."

"If you hadn't, we probably wouldn't be here to review this incident," Hernandez commented.

"Which is precisely why my crew, who reluctantly followed my orders, deserve amnesty," Archer finished.

"They were reluctant?"

'I clearly recall that one of my officers smashed a padd against my desk in protest."

"He thought your actions were improper?"

"One might draw that conclusion," Archer responded, suddenly quieter.

"It is not a war crime to commandeer supplies from local populations during war," Gardner said. "Though it's always one hell of a public relations nightmare. So, you confiscated only the component you needed, and left them with supplies of food and trillium?"

"Yes sir."

"If that story checks out, which I trust it will, then Starfleet has your back."

Jonathan smiled in relief.

"Starfleet acknowleges the possibility of the no-win scenario," Gardner reminded.  "We train our officers to make life and death decisions in the face of certain disaster. Your primary mission was to save Earth, not the Illyrians."

Archer relaxed. "We wanted to leave them with a full complement of weapons," he hurried to add, "but they put up resistance, and we were forced to take out a power juncture that crippled their weapons, at least temporarily."

"Hmm . . ." Gardner mused.  "And that could prove to be the most difficult aspect of this case."

"What case? I thought you said we're in the clear."

"You and your officers may escape extradition, but Starfleet cannot duck these charges. As you know, the Illyrians are candidates for accession to the Federation; they appear to be a civilized species with a reasonable complaint.  Someone is going to have to pay the piper."

"Gannet!" Travis shouted at his holoviewer. The attractive reporter had startled him by appearing on a news program right there in his living room. His wife, Fiona, formerly a MACO on Enterprise, rushed into the room, curious.  Her husband's usual cheerful countenance had turned stormy, and Fiona wondered again what this relentlessly charming professional might have once done to hurt him.

Gannet gave the camera a nod and began her report: "I am in geosynchronous orbit above San Francisco aboard a prison transport ship hovering like the Sword of Damocles over Starfleet headquarters, where alien marshals are at this moment pressing their case for the extradition of three celebrated heros of the Xindi War."

"Ut oh . . . Travis?" Fionna whispered as they both studied the graphic: A weathered alien ship gleaming ominously in the harsh glare of the sun. It's style was vaguely familiar to them both. The exterior shot dissolved, replaced by that of a crewman's quarters stripped of all but essential amenities.

"Now questions are being raised as to the means used to secure Earth's safety in that conflict. Admiral Archer, and Captain Charles Tucker, and Lieutenant Malcolm Reed stand accused of stealing a warp coil from a ship of Illyrians, a race uninvolved in the Xindi conflict, killing one man as he unsuccessfully defended his ship."

 "Who are you working for this time?!" Travis demanded of the newswoman.

 Gannet turned towards an alien inviting him to speak into her translator. His forehead ridges formed a V with the bridge of the nose, accentuating his worried expression:  "Without our warp coil, our ship was a bug without wings. Unable to crawl home, unable to run from our enemies. Without a warp coil, we were vulnerable, waiting for a rescue that would not arrive for over one of your Earth years. We fell prey to new enemies, and then to despair. Pirates took our remaining food stores. We were weaken by hunger, almost too tired to work our shifts . . . "

 Gannet curtly nodded her thanks and sympathy to Illyrian, then addressed the holoaudience: "Starfleet has declined this reporter's requests for comments. And none of my usual contacts have been forthcoming."

"Odd that Gannet hasn't come looking for me . . ." Travis whispered.

"I might have forgotten to give you that message . . ." Fiona admitted.

Gannet continued: " . . . only these Illyrians and the former crew of the decommissioned Enterprise  know what transpired on that fateful day when Humans and Illyrians first made contact in the Expanse."

The Illyrian spoke up again;  "We trust our presence here will awaken the sleeping consciences of those who have wronged us. Our ship will remain, a dark speck in your sky, a silent petition for justice. We humbly ask the people of Earth to investigate our claims."

The Comm rang in the home of Trip and T'Pol Tucker. Trip answered: "Col. Tucker, here . . . . .  No way! Son of a  . . .  Where did that come from? . . .  Are they nuts? . . . . . What is Starfleet going to do about it?

There was a long pause.

"Oh, Shit. OK, then. Tomorrow in Gardners Office? . . . Anything else cheerful you have? . . . Right.  Bye."

"Was that Jon?"

"Yup."

"What did he want?"

"Oh nothing, don't worry about it."

"Trip. We have been married too long for you to be able to lie to me. I know when you are holding something back. Tell me or I can use our bond."

"Hell, go ahead, use the bond. I have to get a beer."

When Trip came back in to the living room, T'Pol had a troubled look on her face.

"They are accusing you, Jon, and Malcolm of piracy and murder?"

"Yeah. They have an official request for us to be surrendered for extradition to their homeworld to stand trial by their law and court system."

"Does Starfleet have any idea of what their judicial system is like?"

"No, but Jon says not to worry. Starfleet isn't going to give us up."

"Trip, I was on board Enterprise at that time. I remember now. I was in command and ordered Malcolm to fire on their ship to disable the power so the force field would go down and you could remove the warp coil. I am just as guilty of piracy and murder as you. Why wasn't I named in the request?"

"I don't know. Just lucky I guess?"

 T'Pol frowned dissatisfied, so Trip offered a more considered answer: "You and I both know your role in the Xindi conflict was never fully appreciated. Maybe, your anonymity finally works to your advantage?"

"But I was on board and I did order the firing on their ship. I made it possible for you to take the warp coil. Why is there a murder charge?"

"One of the crewmen died in the attack. Fell and hit his head too hard. They claim we could have anticipated that someone would die in an attack of that nature."

"That is true. We did know that someone could die. The captain told us he wanted to minimize causalties. So we all knew there could be causalties."

"Jon ordered phasers set on stun. No one should have died. You were not part of the attack. You are clear of that charge."

"But I was first officer. I aided in the attack."

"You just stood by to transport us back to Enterprise."

"And I fired on their power conduit."

"How the hell can you remember that? This happened, what, ten years ago now?"

"I can remember, because I as I gave the order, I knew I was seriously harming civilians."

"Collateral damage. People get hurt in situations like the Xindi Conflict. It cannot be helped."

"Vulcans do not accept the concept of 'collateral damage.' We try to limit causualties to those directly involved in a conflict."

"So do Humans! So does everyone. But sometimes life's not so neat and simple."

"Trip, don't you see, I have a moral responsibility, an obligation to let the Illyrians know that I was involved. We are guilty of these crimes. I am not afraid to stand trial for them."

"Are you out of your mind? Do you have some sort of death wish?"

"I do not wish to die. I wish to take responsibility for my actions."

 "But your actions were justified by the circumstances. You were helping us save Earth."

"I agree, and I will submit that argument to the Illyrians in my defense."

"Like Hell you will. You stay out of it. Starfleet and Jon will handle most of it. Mal and I will help but also try to keep a low profile. This happened because of the Xndi threat. We had to do it."

"Trip, the Illyrians weren't part of that. They had nothing at stake. They were innocent bystanders."

"T'Pol, what about the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few? Earth with its billions of people could have been destroyed if we had not got to the rendezvous with Degra, and to get there we needed that Warp coil. So the Illyrians were the few."

"We do not accept the concept of collateral damage. It is irresponsible."

"Not to Humans. Look, maybe this is a case where even if you don't like our alien customs, you're going to have to roll with it. Just like you've lectured me so many times."

"Trip, I am not talking about customs, I am talking about values I hope we both share. If a person does something, right or wrong, they accept the responsibility for those actions. That is something I want to teach Chip."

"I'm sure Chip will appreciate your stand-up attitude. One day I'll explain to him how you wanted to turn yourself in and I twisted your arm and made you stay here with us."

"Vulcans do not lie."

"Yeah, but Vulcans DO know how to keep nice and quiet when it suits them. Just do that."

"I am just as guilty as you and the rest. I should at least inform the Illyrians of my name and role in the incident."

"No, you don't have to. Remember, Soval condoned what we did because you convinced him that the Xindi would come after Vulcan once Earth had been destroyed. Remember that female who came on board and got information about Humans so the Reptilians could build a biological weapon? She also attacked you and got Vulcan information too. That means the Reptilians were going to build a biological weapon against Vulcan."

"Trip I have a moral obligation."

"T'Pol, your primary obligation is to me and our son. You don't want him to be left alone if we both are sent to prison."

"There are your parents."

"T'Pol! You are his Mother for heaven's sake. He depends on you. He loves you. You are his world. He would be lost without you. He would believe that we abandonded him. Think of your son, think of me!"

"I will consider that."

"Do more than consider it. Stay out of it. I don't want to worry about you and us too. I don't need that. I want to know that you are safe and with Chip. By the way, Mom is coming over shortly to see him. She will be here for dinner too."

"I look forward to her visit."

The Comm rang. Trip answered it: 'Hello Travis. Been a while since we've seen you and the wife. Chip keeps asking when Uncle Travis is coming to visit."

"Turn on your vid. You need to see Gannet's broadcast from the Illyrian prison ship," said Travis over the comm.

"Will do. Thanks for the heads up. Say hello to Fiona for us. Bye.

"T'Pol, turn on the vid."

 Trip and T'Pol watched the news segment with interest.

"Christ. That is going to stir up the Terra Prime crowd," said Trip

"Do you think so?"

"Yes and that's one more  reason for you to stay out of this. You remember what happened when we had the service for Elizabeth? When we got married? When Chip was born? They attacked the cathedral where we were getting married and they almost stormed the hospital when Chip was being born. Not to mention the hate letters they sent us and that god awful age-progression graphic they had made of Chip: Bright green with those huge pointed ears and sharp teeth. He looked like a monster. Imagine what they will do if they find out you were involved. They will run riot with that. You have to stay the Hell out of this."

"I will do my best."

"Good. I am going to Starfleet to talk with Malcolm and Archer. I'll be home in time for dinner."

Trip was in Malcom's office talking with Mal when he stopped short. Trip could tell through the bond that T'Pol had left home. She had her shields up, but he knew she was agitated because they were not entriely up. She was headed for the news station.

"Mal, do you all have a ground car with a siren and lights? I need to get somewhere in a hurry."

"Yes, we do. What do you need it for?"

"I need to intercept T'Pol. She wants to do something extremely moral and extremely stupid."

T'Pol stepped into the reception area of the news station. "I am Commander T'Pol, former first officer of Enterprise. I need to speak with one of your reporters, Gannet Brooks."

The receptionists exchanged startled, worried looks. "I'm sorry, she is unavailable."

"It is an urgent matter. I have information she will want to hear concerning the Illyrians."

"Commander T'Pol, I'm sorry, but Ms. Brooks never returned from her last assignment. We just found out ourselves:The Illyrians are holding her hostage!"