"Philippa, let me go in your place," Michael said. "It has to be me."
Philippa stared in the direction of someone she once believed in for command.
The young woman she thought could be opened up into a place of both worlds.
An excellent captain after seven years working with her in the field.
Philippa had planned to retire and hand the Shenzhou over in safe hands.
Michael had always been the kind to be protective but never did Philippa think it would get in the line of duty. She had committed mutiny. It was out of her character, or perhaps as Philippa had begun to speculate, it was in character. Michael had escaped the brig, likely out logicing the computer, and made her way back onto the bridge. She never would be on the bridge as a star fleet officer after court martial. Philippa knew these moments were critical. The most logical decision was to go in and do it instead of letting someone with a grudge against the Klingon's go be the downfall of their war. Turn herself into a hero. A traumatized star fleet officer turned hero. Star Fleet did not need a role model like that. Perhaps she knew a little bit of Michael's character just not all of it.
Philippa shook her head.
"No, Michael," Philippa said. "you must stay," she glanced over toward Saru. "Is the shuttle craft ready for embarking?"
"Nearly complete, captain," Saru said. "Only minor adjustments. The Klingons will never know what hit them."
"Good," Georgiou said. "prepare the away team, number one, and you are ordered to stay aboard the Shenzhou. Let security apprehend the T'Kuvma."
"Yes, captain," Saru said.
"If you need me, I will be in the shuttle bay. You have the bridge." Georgiou said.
Philippa walked out of the ready room leaving the two alone for what seemed to be the last. Michael was in despair. She came over to the long, wide white couch. She was attempting to manage her feelings. Even from the distance the Kelpian could sense her volatile feelings threatening to break at the slightest touch. To Saru, he was looking at danger. A threat. Someone who could do more harm than good. Mutiny was the highest offense for a star fleet officer asides to starting a war, killing a diplomat, and assaulting a fellow officer. The only good that she was capable of was going to a maximum security prison for life and never putting a ship and its crew into danger. Stripped of rank or any chance of climbing the career track.
Michael cleared her throat.
"You got what you wanted," Michael said. "One step closer to becoming a captain."
"It has been long deserved," Saru said. "We wouldn't be in this mess had you not killed a Klingon."
"You think I wanted to?" Michael asked, standing up.
"You were supposed to do a fly by," Saru said.
"We wouldn't know what we were dealing with had I not gone," Michael said.
"Fear is a friend," Saru said. "fear keeps us alive and it does not kill us."
"To you, it doesn't . . . this is Star Fleet. We have to face what scares us." Michael said, with a sigh. She looked up toward him. "You were always a better science officer. Some of your decisions are good and some of them . . ." she shrugged. "flawed."
"You let your feelings for the captain get in the way." Michael closed her eyes with a squeeze then looked up toward the tall Kelpian and stood up.
"I let my emotions guide my logic," Michael said. "You would have done the same."
"I would have not," Saru said.
"Saru," Michael said, looking up toward him. "The captain's needs outweighs the needs of the first officer."
"The crew of the ship outweighs the first officer needs," Saru said. "'You speak for them. You don't speak for yourself."
"Would you prefer to lose a captain over Klingons rather than seeing her retire?" Micheal asked. "She was going to retire before this battle had begun," Saru tilted his head. "and she is going to die because of me." she turned away from the Kelpian placing a hand on the side of shoulder feeling hurt.
"She would have informed the crew of this fact," Saru said.
Michael turned back toward him with hurt in her eyes.
"She was planning to announce it this evening," Michael said. "and look what I have done."
Saru cautiously stepped forward in the direction of the relieved officer.
Cautiously, the sense of death was near. The captain was going to die. And his former colleague was torn up about it, hurt about it, and angry that she couldn't do a thing about it. It appeared as though she had given up all together and she had accepted that she couldn't help. She was reacting to her mistake and her greatest failure. The Kelpian came closer to the woman letting barriers between them come down. He saw the woman's sincerely watery eyes. He hardly saw the woman as this emotional but the past few hours there was a lot of unexpected events that happened. For all Saru was concerned, there was a upset officer in front of him.
"I believe a hug would suffice for you," Saru said. Michael wiped a tear off.
"Thank you," Michael joined into the hug. She had a shaky breath. She slowly started to calm down in his arms. Saru's hands were placed on her back with fingernails that resembled claws that were small and pointy. "You will make a great first officer."
"I told you that last year," Saru said, Michael's fingers came to the Kelpian's shoulder where it met the neck. An amusing note, a joke, between them. At that instant, feeling her fingers on his neck did the Kelpian realize that he had been played.
"Live long and prosper." She pressed on the points then Saru crumbled to the floor.
The ship needed her first officer including her captain to approve of the transfer of command. A bittersweet occasion. Remaining Shenzhou personnel alive, and her captain but not its previous first officer. When Saru walked onto the bridge in the golden variation. A proud moment for Saru in his life. His family would appreciate it. He would make history again. The first Kelpian to become captain of the rebuilt Walker Class Shenzhou. No one did anything to stop the woman from going into the turbo lift. She closed her eyes then took a sigh. She pressed on the screen, on the panel, to the turbo lift and waited for the turbo lift to take her down. The gentle, familiar hum of the ship relaxed her. The ground moving beneath her feet. It was the least she could do for her home, her family, and the one she viewed as her better half.
The Klingon shells remained floating in space. The corpses of star fleet officers floating. Passing by. Several of them had missing body parts. Their skin a shade of blue. The outlines of their veins visible from a close up view. Pieces of starship metal drifting aimlessly. The barriers showed no remains of the USS Europa. The self destruct had taken care of the remains. Not a sign anyone had been alive except for the shuttle crafts that had managed to escape away from Klingon firing. A few but not a lot. Several ships either destroyed or heavily damaged. The Klingon ship remained there, forebodingly, remaining there sinister. As though it could fire at any time upon the Shenzhou and the other ships that were still powered on. Space outside was haunting. Michael had been right, and a part of Philippa felt that it was her fault for not listening.
"Captain, the shuttle craft is ready," Roark said.
"The bomb will detonate as soon as you are carried to the neck of the ship." Priek added. "Very small enough to hold. Easily accessible."
"You can find it under the panel behind the passenger seat," Roark gestured over toward the shuttle's interior. "Right seat with the window." There was a small compartment behind the passenger seat that could be slid open. It seemed one of the kinds that could be allowed to open with hand motion rather than just grabbing the handle which it did not have. It was large enough, in terms of shape, to hold a basket.
"We did all we could with what we had to disguise it," Priek said.
"Mr Roark and Mrs Priek," Georgiou said. "it has been an honor to serve with you."
"No," Priek said. "It is our honor, captain."
"You are dismissed," Philippa said, with a nod.
The two personnel left the shuttle bay. She came to the side of the shuttle where she could see the familiar panels. The familiar design of the interior. One that she had taken occasionally in her time as officer of this vessel. She pressed a button on the console making the end come up rather than remain. It was a redundancy. It was a newer shuttle craft supplied to the Shenzhou last month to test it out. The shuttle craft felt more of a bus than a typical shuttle craft. Old fashioned so much she preferred to enter from the side. It was a personal quirk, her previous captain had noted, that was endearing. And fit her character like a glove. She came over to the console then tapped on it lightly. The back-end had slid up.
"Prepared to exit shuttle bay," Philippa said.
"Shuttle Field has been activated," came the reply. "Doors open." A grave yard, in space, opened to the captain. "Good luck."
Philippa pressed a button on the console. Philippa had an odd feeling that she wasn't alone in the wide, long shuttle craft. A part of her knew the most likely candidate. No matter how she tried to avoid it. No matter what she did to prevent Sarek's ward from dying tragically at a young age. Retirement didn't seem so bright after all. All the things that would have happened after this to Michael all seemed avoided all together. A sad fate, yet deserved. Life in prison didn't seem so prosperous for such a young woman. And Michael was doing this out of her feelings. As soon as Philippa realized, she was the victim of the Vulcan Nerve Pinch, twice.
It was only a few minutes later that the turbo lift doors opened up. Saru entered the shuttle bay to see the shuttle craft dart off into space. He came over toward the slump figure left on the floor with a extra uniform under her head. He came over toward her side placing a hand on her shoulder. He could tell the woman was otherwise unharmed, breathing, and safe for the time being. He looked up in the direction of the shuttle bay doors that had begun to close. Slowly, Philippa regained consciousness.
"Captain," Saru said. "I was unable to prevent Commander Burnham from leaving."
"She pulled a fast one on you," Philipa remarked, as his hand came off her shoulder. He helped the woman up. "We must get back to the bridge," she made her way toward the turbo lift walking past the Kelpian. "And assemble that away team."
Michael had taken the box out of the compartment. Placing it into the passenger seat alongside. To cripple the Klingon ship was a must. And a requirement. It was the logical thing to do. It was fitting that Michael had deliver the paralyzing blow. Start a distraction. Send the Klingons into a frenzy. Catch them off guard. And capture their leader and bring shame upon him. Klingons preferred not to fight over the honor of a shamed warrior who had instigated any set of conflict. The only ones who went headstrong into conflict to rectify their honor was those with honor that would be seen as a disgrace. The twenty-four houses each had a unique Klingon set. They looked different from each other.
Michael piloted the ship toward the shuttle bay of the Klingon vessel.
"Uss shenzhou roj ghotvam'e'," Michael said. "naDev jIH jegh'a' je nob." "
"maH nob pIH." came the reply.
Klingons had just achieved a war with the federation.
Heavy casualties were suffered on both sides.
So it would make sense that they accept the gift. Or perhaps they had a more malicious plan: stabbing her right in the back. Michael took off her federation badge placing it into a small container. Her identification and her serial number. Surely, Sarek would understand. He likely did. As much as it would hurt him to lose a part of his soul. A daughter that he had attempted to raise with trauma upon other children he had adopted. A daughter his bondmate relished in making her feel welcomed and loved doing something that wasn't acceptable with Spock. The family bond was laced in her mind danging there like a living being that she could not contact. It connected her to the other members of the family.
A part of her could be returned to Vulcan, to her adopted mother, Amanda. The shuttle craft was programmed to return to the Shenzhou after the occupant had came out. She felt the link with Philippa was strong as ever. The one she had shielded from the captain so long. It was an accident that it had become a full blown bond. It was more akin to a soulmate kind of bond. Very rare bonds that could not be found in the given universe, T'hy'la. Even for Vulcans, it was rare to find. Perhaps she should make her farewell with her first and only captain. She didn't expect that a single mind meld would connect their highly compatible minds together. It was a very necessary mind meld. In her seven years as xenoanthropologist, she has given many mind melds with the captain on duty.
It was decided, she had to inform the captain.
Captain.
Philippa looked over hearing her former number one's voice, so close. As though she was here.
Captain.
Philippa looked over.
What is that?
She turned toward the screen.
Philippa.
On the side of Philippa's face appeared the shape of two hands placed on her psi points. She looked over toward her left to see the visualization of Burnham standing there beside her chair. The woman had her hands behind her back, locked, in the same attire that she had entered the Shenzhou seven years ago. The Vulcan Bowl hair cut as tidy as ever. The youth radiating off her skin, and her figure. Her thin, well kept eyebrows made to look like they were slanted when they were not. Philippa stared back at what seemed to be a allusion. This was the first attire that Michael had been seen in by Philippa, and likely, the last. The scenery around them was different, not the bridge, just somewhere else entirely like on a blue disk.
"I am at full capacity to speak with you through this way," Michael said.
"Michael?" Philippa asked.
"It is I," Michael said.
"You should have let me go," Philippa said.
Michael seemed to disapprove of that reply.
"The crew needs you. The dead do not. It is illogical for your demise to be my fault." Michael said.
"It is not your fault. It is mine." Philippa argued.
"It is not logical to blame yourself when the blame should be on me." Michael said.
"Still." Philippa said.
"Do not grieve for me." Michael said.
"Why?" Philippa asked.
"Because I have, and always shall be, with you." Michael said. "It is unfortunet that we will not experience it together, properly."
"Explore what?" Philippa asked.
"We are compatible, Philippa," Michael said. The words stung into the captain's chest. "we are T'hy'la."
"Michael," Philippa said, almost at a loss of words. Her name treated like a phrase that would never be finished.
"I have deposited my soul into you, since we are so compatible, so you will not be alone." Michael said.
"Isn't that dangerous?" Philippa said.
"Philippa, you have not accessed various parts of your brain, I will be taking the unoccupied parts." Michael said.
"Not like I needed them." Philippa said, jokingly.
"I meant the unlocked parts." Michael said.
"I was joking." Philippa said.
"That is very unnecessary." Michael said.
"But I like it. You will like it too." Philippa said.
"In time. . ." Michael said. "It is quite illogical to take me to the ancient hall of thoughts. I do not belong there, I belong with you, Philippa." She held her right hand up. "I will see you soon. We will not always communicate this way afterwards."
Philippa, for once, looked happy. And she was relaxed, hopeful, a spark in her eye had gone off.
"I look forward to our retirement," Philippa said, returning the ta'al. "Good luck, Michael."
Her vision cleared to display the bridge of the Shenzhou. And she wasn't afraid.
The door to the shuttle opened before the pair of Klingons. Michael stood in the entrance holding a large box in her hands that was perfectly wrapped in Christmas wrapping complete with a dark blue ribbon. Michael walked off the shuttle. The shuttle doors closed behind her then the shuttle darted off into space after the Shenzhou.
"Hoch maQam HeH 'u' Sovbe'lu'bogh Qoylu', jatlhHa'law' qaD Qot pa' maHvaD DISov. vaj wej lubaghDI' nuq 'oH pong jISuvvIpbe'. 'ej 'e' Qu' chargh 'ach tu'. destiny. destiny neH Hov ghItlh. 'ej vaj sub maH. nuqDaq not Sun pa'." Michael said. "'ej DaH Sun, vaj jegh."
"wej nIS SoQ." the Klingon said
"jIyaj. yebDu'wIj ra'wI'." Michael said.
"Ha' jISaHchugh." the Klingon said.
Michael made her way down the hall. The bomb slowly ticking inside the box. Michael assured herself that it was going to be fine. She was going to get there at the place that she had planned. The two Klingons were escorting her. Star Fleet would not celebrate her but instead the efforts of the Shenzhou crew to end what could have been a war. The ticking was getting ready to stop as they went up a level. There was a bright flash from the box. Hot, heat radiated from it. And her fingers burned. Her hands, nerves, eyes screamed in agony. And then the pain was gone and she was somewhere else. On the bridge by her captain's side. Phillipa looked over toward the woman with a smile. Her fingers intertwined with the older captain. The sight of the neck falling apart off the sarcophagus ship gone unnoticed by the two men. Saru looked in awe, and yet, impressed that it worked.
"Bridge to transporter room, get our prisoner," Philippa said.
"Yes, captain," came the officer. "Transporter room out."
"I am impressed," Saru remarked. "It worked."
"It seems that luck was on our side today," Philippa said. "Lets hope that luck continues."
"Hopefully," Saru agreed.
And it did.
Far as retired Admiral Philippa Georgiou and ghostly bondmate (mutineer) Michael Burnham were concerned.
The End.