In the episode "Command Performance," Alara makes a decision to defy orders and rescue Ed and Kelly. In this alternate version, she makes a different decision, and they all have to live with the consequences.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Orville. Duh.
I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up all alone, it's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people that make you feel all alone.
~ Robin Williams
"Alara. Everything you've dealt with up until now is child's play. This is command. You have a choice: follow orders and accept that the crew will hate you for it, or disobey orders and go after our people. But if you take that kind of risk and you're wrong, you could destroy your career. Or worse."
Or worse.
Those words had been playing in Alara's head on an endless loop ever since she had left Claire's office. The doctor had been clear when she laid out Alara's choices, but she had refused to give her an easy answer. Alara had walked the ship for almost an hour, playing out different scenarios for those choices in her mind. She needed to calm herself down, needed to be able to think clearly.
She stopped walking, realizing that she had subconsciously walked back around to the mess hall. Maybe a drink would help. Or at least it might take her mind off it for a few minutes. She sighed and walked through the mess hall doors.
Well, if she had hoped to forget about things for a few minutes, she had clearly come to the wrong place. Everyone stopped to glare at her as she walked in, and then clearly turned away, purposefully ignoring her. She suppressed another sigh and turned to the bar.
"Xeleyan tequila. Double." She drained the glass in one gulp and turned to face her crewmates. She briefly locked eyes with Gordon, although he looked away quickly. Well, she thought, I guess I have to start somewhere.
She walked over to the table where Gordon and John sat. "Hi. Can I sit here?"
John didn't even look at her. "Sit wherever you want, sir."
Great. This was going well. "Ok, umm, thanks." She sat, trying to ignore how they were ignoring her. And failing.
"Guys, please," she pleaded. "I had no choice."
Gordon merely looked at her before deliberately setting down his fork and napkin. "Permission to speak freely, sir."
"Yes, of course." Alara was really getting tired of this excessive formality thing. If they were trying to torture her with it, they were doing a really good job.
"You know what the most heinous thing about this is?" Gordon asked. Without waiting for her to respond, he continued. "If the Captain were in your shoes, he would have gone after you. He would have risked his career to save your life. You suck. Sir." The tone of the last word was somewhere between an afterthought and an insult. It stung. But not as much as the rest of his speech did. Because he was right. Captain Mercer would not have left her behind. If he couldn't have convinced the Admiral to send the ship, he would have found another way, even if it meant risking his career.
And if risking her career were her only concern, she would have been happy to slap her hands on the table right there and announce that they would be screwing the Admiral's orders and going after their people. Claire had laid that out to her as one of her choices, and she was sorely tempted to take it. But there was still one thought bringing her up short.
Or worse.
She wasn't just responsible for her own career anymore. She wasn't even just responsible for the careers of the other officers on the ship. She was responsible now for their lives. Already in her short time in command she had almost gotten several crew members killed. And that hadn't even been in a combat situation, for god's sake.
Claire had said she had to trust in her people, and she did. They were good people, and they were a good crew. What she didn't trust was herself in command of that crew. That was the biggest difference between herself and Captain Mercer. The captain would know what to do. She didn't.
She had a responsibility as acting captain to make the best choice for the safety of the people under her command. And right now, that meant she had to face up to her own abilities. If she went after the captain, she could get her entire crew captured or even killed. The Admiral knew that. And so did she.
She had been right the first time. She had no real choice.
Alara sat back and placed her hands on the table. She looked up and looked directly into Gordon's eyes. "I'm sorry you feel that way, Lieutenant. But I have a duty and a responsibility to this crew. I hate what's happened just as much as you do, but I don't have a choice. We're going back to Earth. I'm sorry."
She saw the hope fade from Gordon's eyes. He had truly thought that he might be able to persuade her, and he almost had. He looked at her for a moment before shoving his plate away and roughly pushing his chair back from the table to stand up. He glared down at her. "You're going to be the one who has to live with it, Alara. Good luck with that."
She held his gaze for another moment, willing herself not to look away. She had made her decision, and he was right. She would have to live with it, and with all of the consequences that came with it.
Gordon made a disgusted noise in his throat and stalked out. She looked over at John. He shook his head slightly in anger and disappointment and left the table as well. Alara looked around at all of the faces that had been locked on the conversation ever since Gordon asked to speak freely. Most were silent, although some grumbled under their breath. Slowly, every person in the mess hall stood up and left the room.
Alara sat at the table, alone, for several minutes. Finally, she stood up and walked back to the bar. The bartender was gone, but the bottle of tequila was still on the counter. She poured a double, walked back to the table, and sat. She was still there twenty minutes later when her alarm sounded and she stood up to begin her shift.
She left the full glass still sitting on the table.
Alone.
