Archer did his best to keep it together. He clung to every lesson his father ever taught him just to keep putting one foot in front of the other. There was a job to be done and no one else to do it. It was his responsibility, he knew it, had taken it on with as much ease as breathing, but it did nothing to keep the fear at bay.
He knew his training barely masked his terror. It was the fear making him want to quit and let someone else take over. He remembered the alien from the corridor the night of the attack, flashed to it over and over as he stepped inside the bent hatch of the Day Wanderer, squinting into the dark to let his eyes adjust, seeing the tilted corridors filled with detritus and dust in a brand new way.
It didn't matter he had been on the ship with the thing already, oblivious. The situation had changed the moment he became aware of its presence.