In space, people don't hear screams. On starships, everyone can hear a crewmates scream and run to their aid. The Shenzhou was making defensive menurvers fighting back at the Klingon ship. Each blast rocketing the Walker glass slightly. The fifteen decks suffered attacks to their hulls. Crewmembers remained at their battle stations standing still holding on. The Klingons fired back at the nacelles sending the Shenzhou spinning in space. The Shenzhou fired back clipping one of the Klingon's wings sending the part spiraling away. Another Klingon vessel appeared resuming fire. Explosions can be seen from the Shenzhou off its decks. A distress call was sent from the Shenzhou. The scene fell down toward the inside of the ship as electrical fires erupted from panels. Going further and further down until the scene made it to the bubble that held the bridge. Burnham looked over, dismayed, toward Saru. Saru nodded, heartbroken. He was behind the rails This wasn't what they wanted. Burnham's heartbroken expression was replaced by a stoic one as she turned her attention onto the older woman. The firing seemed to decrease between shots giving a moment of calmality.

"Captain," Troy said. "Deck three and four has been destroyed."

"Order a evacuation," Georgiou said. "We will cover the evacuation."

"Philippa," Burnham said.

"Michael," Georgiou said, her eyes on Burnham.

"I am not leaving you here to die," Burnham said.

"You are the first officer of this ship and the crew needs a leader," Georgiou said.

"You are that leader, T'hy'la," Burnham said, placing a hand onto Georgiou's shoulder as she faced the woman in front of the chair. "I am not."

Burnham applied the Vulcan nerve pinch. Burnham slid the woman into her arms handing off to Saru. Saru nodded back to Burnham then left with the departing officers from their stations. Burnham watched the group leave the room. The once bright bridge grew darker around her. Burnham's kept a grip over her emotional distress keeping it at bay like a powerful tide on a beach getting ready to crash against her. Burnham slowly turned in the direction of the view screen. She sat into the captain's chair. The bridge officers had one final duty to do in the battle. The place she once called home was being destroyed before her eyes. Shaking with each blast. The rounded bridge with colorful red rails decorating the lower section of it making a pod like shape. Burnham felt regret that her time on the Shenzhou had to end like this.

"Orders, captain?" Detmer said.

"Cover the escape pods," Burnham said.

"Aye," Detmer said.

"Ensign Connor, continue being alert for any warp signatures," Burnham said. "Lieutenant Januzzi, contact Starfleet command. Inform them that we have engaged the Klingons."

"Aye," Januzzi said.

"Escape pods have left the Shenzhou," Detmer announced.

Burnham gripped onto the arm rest of the chair as the ship flew acting as a shield for the escaping pods.

"Lieutenant Januzzi, is there any remaining pods?" Burnham inquired.

"Two, captain," Januzzi said.

"You have performed your duty, follow the evacuation orders," Burnham ordered.

"With all due respect, captain, you might just get hailed by a federation ship in the middle of battle," Januzzi said. "You need a communications officer for that."

Burnham nodded.

"My mistake," Burnham said. "Continue manning your station."

"Aye, captain," Januzzi said.

"I won't make that mistake, again," Burnham said.

Januzzi had a small smile at that then turned back toward his station. She was sure of it. She still needed to do a lot of training in her career. This had never happened during her career in starfleet. Ship in the process of being utterly damaged. Main personnel evacuated. Ship being under attack by Klingons. It was a captains worst nightmare. The only worst nightmare Burnham had was losing her first captain. This was only a minor inconvenience. Only a small handful of bridge officers remained. Those who were Detmer, Connor, and Januzzi. The Shenzhou victoriously defended the fleeing escape pods.

"Captain!" Detmer shouted.

A unexpected blast struck the bridge sending a powerful blast knocking down most of the officers. The Shenzhou's escape pods warped into space fleeing from the battle. The Shenzhou was floating dead in space. The scene returned to the dark bridge where light cackled briefly on and off making a shadow on Burnham's face. Along the side of her head there was blood trailing down covering the sharpened tips of her eyebrows. She was laid on the floor laid on her side. She was faintly breathing. One hand was covering the lower part of her torso. Her face briefly displaying the pain she was it relaxed. A faint color of blue appeared along the sides of her face. Her eyes slowly opened. The scene backed out to reveal a colorful bright blue scenery. Burnham was standing up on her feet no longer sitting down. Sarek was across from her in his long Ambassador robes that seemed fancy and simple at once. The look of concern was easily seen in his eyes. A long distance mind meld.

"Is the Shenzhou under attack?" Sarek inquired.

"Yes," Burnham said. "I can't stay here for long."

"Why?" Sarek asked.

"You know why," Burnham said.

"I do not," She was floating further and further away. "Michael, do not end this meld."

"Logic dictates that one cannot allow a mind to melt when one is going," Burnham said.

"That occurs when one is dying and you are not," Sarek said.

"We have been attacked by the Klingons," Burnham said. Sarek's face fell. "They fired first."

"You require medical attention," Sarek acknowledged.

"The ships crew evacuated," Burnham said. "The nearest ship is thirteen hours away. ."

"Michael, if you go then a piece of me will be lost. Do not give up. You are much capable of more." Sarek said.

"The Klingons are going to board the ship and kill what is left of my bridge crew. We don't have weapons," Burnham said. "I will not give them the luxury of killing a acting captain."

"Have you not learned much from your time aboard the Shenzhou or being around humans?" Sarek asked. "Anything can be a weapon."

"Anything. . ." Burnham raised her head up as realization hit her.

"Dif-tor heh smusma," Sarek said, holding the ta'al up.

"Sochya eh dif," Burnham said.

"Wake up, Michael," Sarek said.

Burnham awoke with a deep breath leaning herself up. The cackling of the bridge was around her. Burnham noticed Januzzi by her side saying something yet she could not hear him. She blinked, regaining control over her breathing, and her hazy feelings. Januzzi placed her onto the chair. Faint lights in the room were powered on. Saru's station seemed to be destroyed entirely with pieces of it laid on the floor. The other stations were glowing in the dark. Burnham straightened herself onto the chair. Her familiar bonds ached with pain. As though she had been ripped out of them then neatly back back into place without the aid of a healer to repair. The ache from Sybok's side of the familiar bonds was screaming. Spock's side had no pain at all as though he removed himself from the bond all together. Her various family member bonds were muted or screaming in agony from the abrupt change in the family bond.

"System is running," Januzzi said. "Decks nine through thirteen have been destroyed." The first word Burnham heard was destroyed.

"Three Klingon vessels in range," Connor said.

Burnham saw the two undamaged Bird of Prey's in space while the third one seemed to be stopped in place.

"Do we have enough power for phasers?" Burnham asked.

"Yes, captain," Detmer said.

"What about reserve power?" Burnham asked.

"We have decks that are still operating on power," Januzzi said.

"Divert power to decks where the Klingons will board," Burnham said. "Depower the other decks to phasers."

"Powering on," Detmer said.

"Fire at the Bird of Prey," Burnham said. The bird of prey was near a perfectly intact bird of prey side by side that was keeping it up. "Now."

Phaser firing came from the Shenzhou striking the heart of the bird of prey. It blew into pieces damaging the second bird of prey heavily. The name plate of the Shenzhou was wiped off the hull in the ensuring firing. The firing from the Klingons came to a halt. The bridge was cackling here and there. It seemed to be empty at best. Faint lights were glowing in the dark showing not a sign of life.


On the transporter padd appeared appeared a dozen Klingons. The Klingons had curly dark hair with ridges on their foreheads covered in armor. Their hands were on their disruptor pistols. There was not a sign of transporter technician on sight. The lights in the purple and red room. The Klingons stepped off the transporter padd, warily. Six of the Klingons lacked locks of curly hair or a forehead ridge at all. The Klingons came over to the transporter console then communicated with their ship. The Klingons came out of the transporter room. The bright lights were still on displaying the curved walls.

The Klingons slowly crept their way down the hall. There were no sign of life. As though no one had been inside of the ship at all. There were dangling circuits from all over the place with panling on the floor. One of the Klingons tripped a line. In a snap, the Klingon had a scream. The Klingon was pressed against the wall thanks in part to a large desk. The Klingon's head was laid against his shoulder, limp. One of the Klingons checked for a pulse. The first officer shook her head. The Klingons howled. Their voices echoing through the halls. Then they continued their trek. The remaining Klingons split up going down different halls. Another Klingon came to a crewmen's quarters and was stabbed in the chest by a long stick like blade then fell to the floor. A Klingon took out a communicator then spoke in Klingonese. Burnham appeared from behind him over a raft then kicked him down.

The Klingon turned and fired at her.

Burnham leaned to her side narrowly getting hit.

Burnham caught the next fist then struck him in the face. The Klingon stumbled back. She ran up his chest then perform a kick knocking him down to the floor. Burnham came to his side then checked for consciousness. She dragged the Klingon's body into the brig then turned it on. The Klingon groaned. Burnham left the room. A few minutes later, Januzzi and Detmer dragged in another Klingon dumping him alongside the first. Another Klingon was discarded alongside him. And another and another. Until the next brig had to be used. Almost a dozen Klingons laid in the brig groaning. The scene backed up until it was encompassed by darkness. Until the transporter room was seen and a figure was seen. The Klingon captain came off the transporter padd then walked out of the transporter room. Detmer and Connor walked behind them sneaking into the transporter room.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are. . . I am Captain Tachallus."

"That does not sound like a Klingon name." Burnham said.

"It isn't. I chose it." Tachallus said.

"You don't look Klingon," Burnham said

"You don't sound human," Tallachas replied.

"You got me there, captain," Burnham's voice echoed. "Your mate treating you well?"

"My mate is waiting for me on my ship," Tachallus said.

"Children?" Burnham prodded.

"They are back home," Tallachus said

"Given what you have put me into. . ." Burnham started. "I don't want to kill people on this ship but you are forcing my hand."

"You are in our territory," Tachallus said.

"Klingons refused to attend the treaty in 2249," Burnham said. "regarding federation space and klingon space. If you wanted it, you would have sent a diplomat or a delegate for that matter," she sighed. "You are going to have to change if you want to keep territory." the Klingon's forehead ridges had piercings. He lacked eyebrows and hair for that matter. It was quite unsual for a Klingon to go bald and decorate their highly sensitive sensing head parts.

"Come out and show yourself," Tachallus said.

"You had a choice," Burnham said. "leave and let your crew die in a dishonorable battle. . . We didn't fire first."

Tachallus stopped.

". . . I heard otherwise," Tachallus said.

"If you want territory then you should get your crew and get out before your honor is stained," Burnham said.

"My honor is not stained," Tachallus said.

"It is, since you know the truth," Burnham argued.

"Vulcan," Tachallus said.

"Not quite. I am but then I am not." She landed in front of him. He stepped back in shock almost swaying himself. "The only way you can leave this battle honorably is a fight."

"You?" Tachallus asked, mockingly. "You wouldn't stand a chance against a Klingon."

Burnham raised an eyebrow then lowered it.

"I am willing to engage in exchange you take what is left of my crew and bring them to the nearest starbase," Burnham said.

"You wouldn't do that," Tachallus said.

"I am speaking to the Klingon who keeps their word," Burnham said. "I would." Tachallus looked down on the woman's sleeves then toward Burnham.

"Where is the captain?" Tachallus asked.

"Evacuated," Burnham said. "I am the acting captain of this vessel."

Tachallus took out his dagger then tossed it toward Burnham.

"Show me the worth of your honor," Tachallus said. "I give you my word."

Burnham slowly picked up the blade then charged down toward him. She stepped aside out of Tachallus's way then jabbed the dagger into the side of his torso. She yanked it out as she was stabbed in the shoulder making a tear in the uniform. Burnham retained her stoic demeanor not showing a sign of pain. She made a cut along Tachallus's shoulder that wasn't covered by the armor. Their blades struck each other making once or twice. Her communicator beeped as she struck a cut along Tachallus's hand. She ran along the corridor then landed behind the Klingon stabbing into his shoulder blade through a unexposed part of the Klingon uniform. It was like chainmail and less colorful than most Starfleet uniforms. It was dull and cracked in some places here and there. Burnham was quick to yank out the dagger. Tachallas left a cut on the woman's left cheek. Burnham made a long cut on his shoulder armor leaving a fine slit on the side of his neck. The next few cuts made tears into Burnham's uniform leaving a fold over the starfleet insignia. Burnham got through some parts that were not covered by heavy armor. Finally, Tachallus stabbed into the woman's left shoulder. Burnham took out her communicator.

"Burnham here," Burnham said.

"We got it, captain," Connor said.

"Klingon consoles are much more difficult than Vulcan," Januzzi said. "But we did it."

"You did what?" Tallachus said.

"Prepare for escape," Burnham said. "Burnham out." She closed the communicator.

"You lied to me," Tallachus said.

"Did I?" Burnham asked. "I wouldn't be lying if I let you kill me and take my crew alive."

Tallachus did not reply as he stared at her.

"Who do you think rigged the transporter machine?" Burnham asked. "I will be damned for letting my crew get out of here. They just found out they can't go back," she winced in pain as she slid down. "One of your great leaders said. . . honor is not in battle. . . but . . . how you treat your house and your fellow warriors." Burnham had the smallest of smiles as she was pressed against the wall.

"Kahless the unforgettable," Tallachus said.

"No," Burnham said. "Kortar. . ." She briefly closed her eyes. "Try, and escape, but you won't."

"And my other crewmen?" Tallachus said.

"They are in the brig, without their weapons," Burnham said. "It was . . deemed. . . illogical to let them kill themselves."

"You will reply to them!" Tallachus said.

"No," Burnham said. "If you leave, your honor gets tainted. If I leave. . ." Her eyes briefly closed. "Your honor is retained. If I were human. . . "

"You are human," Tallachus said.

"Not by my katra," Burnham said. "As a human. . . I would say . . . good luck."

Burnham lost consciousness. She was forcibly shaken by the Klingon, repeatedly. Burnham heard the Klingon storm off. She heard a thud of footsteps headed her way. She was in a light meditative trance. Her mind slowly slipped away. She heard a familiar voice calling her out. It sounded like Georgiou. Only she was not there. Of all the times the captain was there for the woman slowly getting out of her Vulcan shell, this just had to be the moment where she heard her voice and she wasn't there.

Baby girl. . .

Her eyes opened.

"T'hy'la," Burnham said.

A dark figure came to her side.

"Burnham," it was Nambue. She recognized his voice.

"I ordered the crew to evacuate," Burnham said.

"Well, your fortunate that I was overseeing a finger regeneration," Nambue said. "Ensign Ru'hert lost a finger yesterday," he helped the woman to her feet with a hand wrapped around her waist. "Now, I think I have a medical pod up and waiting."

"I need to make my final log," Burnham said.

"Burnham, you got stabbed in the chest," Nambue said.

"That never stopped the captain," Burnham said.

"The captain is not a superhuman," Nambue said. "Neither are you."

"Fine, but after that, I must make my final log," Burnham insisted.

"If you trust your crew then leave it to them to make the final log," Nambue said.

"Anton. . ." Burnham said. "You are the most qualified officer to make that."

"I can't be the only lieutenant commander aboard," Nambue said.

"We are the only lieutenant commanders aboard this ship," Burnham said. "otherwise, we have lieutenants and then we have a ensign."

"Okay, how about you make that log and then I take care of you?" Nambue said.

"That is acceptable," Burnham said. "if we come across that Klingon captain, then let me finish him off."

"If we do then he is probably going to have a lot more of his friends," Nambue said, as they took a turn down the hall. "Do the turbo lifts have power?"

"I made sure of it," Burnham said.

"Good," Nambue said.

Nambue walked into the turbo lift. He placed the woman against the wall then took a leveler out and softly commented where he wanted to go. The turbo lift doors closed then it went down. Nambue looked over toward the woman. Half of her uniform was becoming stained in her blood. He took out his medical kit from over his shoulder. He peeled away the tear then applied a dermal generator. The pain made by the wound still stung but not as much as the cut that was no longer there. It was like the dagger was still inside of her torso. Stuck inside of it.

"I need a new uniform," Burnham said.

"You look fine, but the inside not so much," Nambue said.

Burnham slowly slid herself up onto her feet.

"I am adequate," Burnham said, as the doors opened.

Burnham flung herself onto the bridge with much force on her part to ignore the pain.

"Captain!" what was left of the bridge crew said in unison turning toward her.

"Our hailing was answered a minute ago," Januzzi said, hopefully, as she collapsed onto the red rail. "USS Discovery is coming."

"How hurt is she, doc?" Connor asked.

"A klingon stabbed her," Nambue said. "What kind of dagger, I can't be sure without having seen it."

"Can you be sure if you got it?" Connor asked.

"Yes," Nambue said.

"I will get it," Connor said.

"Ensign Connor, you will most certainly not," Burnham said, as he walked past her. "I will. . ." she pressed herself up against the railing. "Finish it."

"Captain, you are in no condition to fight with a Klingon," Detmer said, in agreement joining the man. "I will help him and we will bring back the dagger."

Burnham was guided over to the chair by Nambue.

"Don't die on me," Burnham said, her eyes glancing off toward the small crew still facing her. "You are my responsibility and mine alone." A smile appeared on the red head's face.

"All right, mom," Detmer said, teasingly. "we will."

Connor nodded.

"Be right back," Connor said.

The two went into the turbo lift then the doors closed on them. Burnham pressed a few buttons here and there on the arm rest to start the recording. Familiar buttons that she pressed on her first time serving the bridge when Georgiou was resting in sick bay. A memory she recalled with Saru pointing out which button did which. And what buttons not to press. She was relatively new to the captain's chair back then and now she was very familiar to it. Starfleet will pick up the log after it was transmitted. She watched the Klingon vessel fire at the third. The third bird of prey fired back numerous shots until the second ship was destroyed inflicting damage onto the third.

Acting Captain's log: The Klingons fired first. Klingons do not talk peace and do not wish for peace when they normally fire first. Logically, we had to reply. My duty to the USS Shenzhou has been fulfilled. We have destroyed two bird of preys, as of far. Should I fail at keeping what is left of the bridge crew alive. . . I recommend commendations made for Lieutenant Commander Saru, Ensign Connor, Captain Georgiou, Lieutenant Januzzi, Commander Nambue, and Lieutenant Detmer. End log.

Burnham pressed the button which transmitted the log.

"Say," Nambue said. "What if the Klingon captain went into one of the depowered decks?"

"He wouldn't survive it," Burnham said, sliding herself out of the chair.

"Captain!" Nambue said, as he placed a hand on her shoulder. "You should be resting."

"He is going to come down at any minute and finish what he started," Burnham said.

"You don't know that," Nambue said.

"Klingons like to have business settled before death," Burnham said. "A death they can control."

"That is no reason for you to have some rest," Nambue said. "You can't fight with a shoulder with that." Burnham raised a eyebrow up.

"Remember . . . ." Burnham started. "how I went through a sprained ankle to ensure Captain Georgiou's survival?"

Nambue snickered.

"Yes," Nambue said. "I do." he nodded, fondly. "It was funny to see you hopping into my sick bay."

"I am your superior officer," Burnham said. "My duty is to protect the crew," she looked over toward Januzzi with a smallest of smiles then back toward Nambue. "and you are part of my crew. You will leave him to me."

Nambue stepped aside and the turbo lift doors opened.

"Captain Burnham," Tachallus said. "I heard you were ready to do a . . kamikaze. Care to enlighten me."

Burnham unhid the dagger from behind her back with her still working arm.

"I would die before I let this ship be taken by Klingons," Burnham said. "I will die when I let my crew be killed." Tachallus slowly stepped down the stairs as Nambue came toward Januzzi's direction. The ship trembled as the Bird Of Prey's suddenly appeared without a warp signature. Her arm was lazily laid to her side without a purpose. As though she could not use it. "And I will die before I let you declare yourself as victorious against Starfleet."

"Starfeet, explorers, and yet you fight," Tachallus said, in a disgusted tone.

"I have no choice but to become what I am not to survive," Burnham said. "You should know that."

Tachallus lunged forward. Burnham made the shape of a 'x' on his chin while he made another cut onto her shoulder. Burnham stepped aside then turned coming to Tachallus's back. She stepped into the Klingon's back, firmly, without regrets. She severed the Klingon's spine in half. Tachallus collapsed to the ground before he could make a move. He was unable to move himself up. He laid on the floor. Burnham knelt down toward him.

"I will die before I take a life on a federation vessel when I don't have to kill," Burnham said.

"You should have killed me," Tachallus said.

"It would not have been honorable," Burnham said. She looked over the Klingon looking for the dagger that he stabbed her with. In his hand was a different dagger instead. "Lieutenant, request the crew return and take the captain to the brig. There's a spare room with his name on it."

"Aye," Januzzi said, then sent the announcement through the ship.

Burnham sat down into the captain's chair, calm and relaxed.

"How many vessels does that make it?" Burnham asked.

"About five," Nambue said.

"Five Bird of Prey's. . ." Burnham observed the stalling Bird of Prey's, waiting, for their next move.

"Captain," Detmer said, coming onto the bridge. "I found the dagger."

"Thanks, now hand it over," Nambue said, with a dark bag. Detmer deposited the blade into the bag.

"Uh, is that a Crossfield class?" Connor said, looking out. "I thought they hadn't been rolled out, yet."

"They haven't, last I heard," Nambue said.

The group looked over to see the starship attracting the attention of the Klingons. The bird of preys flew in its direction. They abandoned the starship then it vanished taking the bird of preys with it. with the center flying. Burnham and the rest of the bridge crew looked at it in shock. They were floating out in space with little to no back up. The officers turned in the direction of the commander.

"How fast can we get back to Earth?" Burnham said.

"At impulse power, I think it might take us two weeks," Januzzi said. He held his hands up "But I am not a engineer." His dark station beeped then he turned. "Shenzhou here." he was silent as all eyes were on him. He turned back toward them. "The USS Yeager is headed this way with back up to escort us back. Captain Maranville is reported to be covering our back until the others get there."

Burnham nodded.

"Inform Captain Maranville that we appreciate his offer," Burnham said. She turned her attention onto the view screen. "But we might not be here by the time he gets here. Klingons could appear where they shouldn't be."

"Those Romulans sure know how to arm the worst people possible with cloaking devices," Connor said. "Let's finish the job."


"Burnham?" Georgiou's voice came over the woman's shoulder.

Burnham's right hand was rubbing her unmoving left hand as she looked over toward the retired captain. Her arm was in a arm sling. It had been a week of chaos. Guilt. It was never supposed to end this way. None of it was. Her bridge crew were going their separate ways. In some ways going to different parts of the war. Burnham had done her best. The evidence was right across from her. Georgiou was in her admiral outfit. It was a white uniform with the admiral ranking on the sleeves. There was sparkles on the center of the outfit that was a shade of lighter gray making her face stand out. It was what Burnham liked about Starfleet uniforms on Georgiou. It made her look pretty. More than that, gorgeous. Like a queen.

"Philippa," Burnham said, tuning away from the space dock. The Shenzhou was under a refit. Repairs, to be more precise. Drastically needed repairs. The ship woudn't be the same again. And for some reason, that was reassuring. It was comforting. Change was going on but it was too large for the younger woman. Too big. She didn't like it.

"I heard you declined promotion," Georgiou said. "You were outstanding back there. From what I heard. You got a entire cell of Klingons to admit what happened. . . and you kept what was left of our crew alive."

"We're at war," Burnham said, softly.

"I heard," Georgiou said. "I feel bad that I cannot be up there fighting the good fight up there with you."

"I wish for that too," Burnham said.

"What do you mean?" Georgiou asked.

"It is going to be where I belong," Burnham said. She looked over toward Georgiou. "We lost the Yeager to Klingons. Rogue Klingons," she shook her head. "You should have seen their vessel. . . It was nothing like a Klingon. Hailing us. . . They looked like goblins with Klingon characteristics. The Klingons refused to call them Klingon. We couldn't help them. The Yeager chased them off to save us and we couldn't save them. I couldn't . . . Nacelles were out." she struggled to regain her composure. "I nearly killed a Klingon."

"We all do things that we don't like in battle," Georgiou said.

"I have resigned my commission," Burnham said. "I am going home to Vulcan. To figure out who I am. This battle . . . It made me wonder who I was sitting in that chair with a real threat and I was given several options. Rig the transporter console so the crew couldn't return and instead go home. Leaving I and Tachallus to fight it out. I would have killed him. Doctor Nambue would have evacuated me as soon as he found me. . . and the Klingons would have had a damaged trophy."

"But you didn't," Georgiou said.

Burnham nodded.

"I did not need to be talked as a hero but as a starfleet officer and to be given the chance of declining then given what I wanted," Burnham said. "I hope you find someone who is not like a mess as I am."

Georgiou reached her fingers out and two of her fingers touched Burnham's fingers.

"You are my mess," Georgiou said. "and I love my messes."

Burnham briefly closed her eyes then reopened them.

"Your ship will be repaired in a year," Burnham said. "Saru will require guidance to become something better than I." her mind was closed off from the woman. Familiar bonds that needed to be healed by a healer. "He will make a great captain of the Shenzhou."

"I wished it was you who would take over," Georgiou said.

"We cannot have what we want," Burnham said. "There are no regulations about Admirals commanding a ship and training a captain."

"I hate when you're right," Georgiou said, with a laugh.

Burnham raised a eyebrow.

"Really?" Burnham asked.

"No," Georgiou looked over toward Burnham. "I don't."

"Michael Burnham, your transport to Vulcan has arrived. . ." came over the intercomn.

"I shall go," Burnham turned away but Georgiou took her free arm.

Burnham shifted toward Georgiou.

"Promise me that you will keep contact," Georgiou said.

"As you wish," Burnham said, with a affectionate yet loving look back.

Georgiou's grip loosened and she let go of Burnham off to her own path.

"I will make sure she messages you weekly," Saru said, from behind her.

"You don't have to do that," Georgiou said.

"I stood seven years of pining, yearning, and I am not about to let you be miserable yearning after her during a war," Saru informed her. "I have contacts on Vulcan. Close contacts of Michael's." Georgiou smiled, folding her arms, watching the woman vanish among the crowd. It was all going to be okay.