This story was started prior to SE1ep13 and the reveal about Gabriel Lorca. I was not happy with what his character was turned into, for all the reasons that I have been debated elsewhere. From the moment Emperor Georgiou suggested he had "groomed" Michael, I thought it more likely that it was the other way around (NB I did not read her use of that word with the usual predatory and sexual connotations as it indeed has other meanings). So if you don't like Lorca, or his relationship with Michael, best walk away now. Peace and Long Life!
I. First Contact
Gabriel Lorca has not fought, killed, backstabbed and plotted his way to the Emperor's side to become some kind of nanny. He feels punished, even though he knows others look upon him with envy – being entrusted with the Emperor's child, surely, had to be a sign of her confidence in him?
Except that this child (and who calls their daughter Michael?) is not really the Emperor's child. She's adopted, a propaganda tool. She may as well be a pet. And he knows the Emperor gets bored easily. What happens when she gets bored of this girl? Would he be expected to get rid of her?
She'd been found in a rebel camp, alongside some other human prisoners. No one seemed to know how she had ended up there. She hadn't spoken much to anyone. Apparently, she had been found shot, nearly dead, clutching a phaser and muttering "Long Live The Empire."
The Emperor was moved. Michael became a poster child for loyalty to the throne, and her reward was to go from orphan to heir presumptive. Lorca gritted his teeth. If this was a fairy tale, it had to be about some kind of poisoned chalice.
The doors open before him, and he walks down the short tunnel to the stands of the Palace's training arena. The sound of fists and elbows and feet smacking against leather echo around his ears. Grunts and shouts – a child's cry, suddenly. As he steps out into the light, he finds the Emperor in training gear, standing over a dark-skinned child who's curled up on the floor, hands to her face.
"Look at me," the Emperor demands. When the girl doesn't immediately obey, she asks again, this time in a tone that won't tolerate further delay. Michael sits up, looks at her; Lorca sees tears and blood on her face. "There is no shame in crying, Michael. You are a little girl. Being punched hurts. And if you don't want to hurt again, you need to learn to hurt the other person. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"Yes... Mother."
"Mother."
"You're a survivor, Michael. I can see that. And that's the greatest strength there is. Muscles, speed, knives – are nothing without it."
"They do help, Your Majesty."
Georgiou looks at him, smiles. "Gabriel! At last. Come, meet Michael."
Lorca moves forward, bows to Georgiou then to Michael. The Emperor is pleased; the girl looks confused for a moment, before straightening herself and doing her best to copy her new mother's haughty demeanour. The red eyes and blood and snot on her face do not help.
"Your Highness, it's an honour to meet you."
The Emperor waves a hand. "You will call her Michael. She is my daughter but she has not earned that title yet. Everything has to be earned. Only the strong succeed. That is what makes us the most powerful people in this quadrant."
"What shall I call him, Mother?" Michael asks.
"Whatever he likes. He has earned that."
"Captain Lorca will do fine, Michael."
"It is an honour to meet you, Captain Lorca," the girl says, offering her hand. Now Lorca begins to see what the Emperor sees in her, a raw, unthinking kind of bravery. The kind of bravery that's born either out of inexperience, or with the child. Time will tell which is which.