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A Time to Grieve


Her knees hit the deck before the door finished closing. Fortunately, Crossfield-class ships didn't have windows on their ready room doors. She fell forward, landing on her hands, and choked the command out. "Computer, privacy."

"Privacy mode engaged."

Safe now, at least for the moment, Katrina simply let herself collapse into a heap, no longer fighting the tears. She wasn't sure how long she lay there, curled up and sobbing like a little child, until the worst of the emotions passed and she was able to regain enough control to sit up.

Eighty thousand people…

With the privacy mode engaged, all recorders were off, so there'd be no record of her bringing her knees up to her chest, rocking as tears began to spill down her face again. She was quieter this time, sniffling instead of wailing, and there was at least a tenuous amount of control. Had someone called for her, she'd have been able to get up and answer.

Chances were nobody would, at least for a while. She'd seen the looks on the bridge crew's faces when Commander Saru had gently called her back to the moment. Admiral. The Discovery awaits your orders.

Uncurling herself into a more comfortable position, Katrina pushed her hair off her face. Between that and her little temper tantrum in the briefing room — a lower-ranked officer would've earned a severe reprimand for discharging a phaser in such a manner — this crew no doubt thought she was coming completely unhinged.

She wasn't entirely convinced they were wrong.

There was no such thing as a good day anymore, but today had been worse than usual. The bad news items had just kept coming, one after the other, hitting harder and harder. Gabriel dead. Gabriel an imposter, with the man she'd known likely dead for a year before she found out. Philippa Georgiou's face twisted in naked hatred, the sentiment aimed in her direction. The debris around Starbase One, once the Federation's greatest achievement, and then seeing the sigil of a Klingon house painted on like so much graffiti.

How much more was she supposed to be able to stand?

"As much as you have to," she said out loud, hearing her own voice shaking. "Until you can't."

You're the strongest person I've ever met, Kat.

She screwed her eyes closed again, pushing away the echo of Gabriel's voice. It was over. He was dead. She'd mourned him once already after seeing the other Discovery's debris, and she'd mourn him again after this was all over. But right now was not the time to be thinking about him.

Of course, that wasn't exactly easy when she was sitting in his ready room, fighting for control. With a sigh, Katrina pushed to her feet. She shouldn't stay in here. The reminders were too sharp and, besides, there was still far too much to be done for her to spend time giving in to her grief.

There was still a war left to fight.

With any luck, she'd have time for grieving, for anger, for anguish later.

She'd need it.