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Know Thyself
Chapter Seven

Katrina gasped in pain, eyes tearing up in response to the comparative brightness in the Discovery's transporter room. At least, she thought as she turned her head away, the latest discomfort wasn't in her legs this time.

"Admiral?" An unfamiliar voice pulled her back to the moment. "Captain? What were you doing on the Klingon ship?"

"No time for that." Tyler's voice was crisp, businesslike, now that he was away from the Klingons. "Reset the transporters and get Burnham. Now. Captain, we need to clear the pad."

The room swung dizzily as Gabriel and Tyler moved her to the floor in front of the transporters. They hummed to life just as she was set down, and Burnham appeared, falling heavily on her side with one hand clenched around something in her fist.

"Bridge!" shouted the operator. "Everyone's aboard. Including two extras."

The lights dimmed briefly, and Burnham glanced at Tyler. "They're getting ready to fire on the Klingon ship," she said. "We need to get to the bridge."

"Go on," he told her. Behind them, the transporter officer keyed the comm and called for a medical team.

"You, too —" she began.

"No," he answered, and then he sidled around to the open comm. "This is Tyler. We also need additional security officers."

"Security officers?"

"Go!" he snapped. "I'll be there as soon as I can." When she left, he turned back to the two of them. "Sir, I need your phaser."

Suddenly furious, Gabriel pointed it at him. "I didn't just break out of one prison to end up in another one!"

"Until we know what's going on with you and Captain Lorca —"

"I'm Captain Lorca! He's the one you need to be arresting!"

"Gabriel," broke in Katrina. "Surrender the phaser. For now."

He swung the phaser in her direction. "Not you, too. All of a sudden you've started ordering me around and —"

"Think!" she snapped. "They have to do this until everything's straightened out."

"Then let's straighten it out right now."

"This ship is in combat! Drop the phaser, Captain!"

His hands were shaking and he gave her a look that could have melted duranium, but he unclasped his fingers and let the weapon clatter to the floor. Tyler kicked it clear just as two security officers burst through the door, drawing up short.

"Skoren, take this man to the brig," he ordered them. "But no restraints unless he resists. You hear me, sir? Cooperate, and we'll get this over with as fast as we can."

He gritted his teeth so hard that Katrina imagined she could hear them grinding, but gave a short nod and followed the security officer out the door.

"Thank you," said Katrina. "For the lack of restraints, I mean."

"Of course, Admiral." Then Tyler sighed. "And, actually, I should be thanking you for helping me over there. But…" he trailed off and motioned to the other officer. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You, too, at least for right now."

She'd figured as much. Although her lips thinned, Katrina forced herself to nod as the medical team raced through the door. "Go to the Bridge, Lieutenant. I won't resist. You have my word."

"Admiral —"

"You deserve to see this. We can wait until it's over. And," she continued, "we both know what has to happen once it is. I don't think your Captain Lorca is going to submit to anyone other than you."

"No." He didn't meet her eyes as he picked up the phaser and attached it to his belt. "I don't either."

The doctor, a dark-skinned human woman about her own age, tsked softly as she ran the scanner over Katrina's body. "You should've stayed still as much as possible, Admiral. It looks like the nerves tried to start healing themselves, but you kept re-injuring them."

"That wasn't really an option," she answered.

"Well, if you had, we'd likely have been able to treat you here. But…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "I can stabilize you, but you're going to need complex neurosurgery on your spine, and possibly a neural implant. The nearest facility for that is at Starbase Eighty-Eight."

"What about the other injuries?"

She administered a hypo. "This is a dietary supplement. You'll need to be on them for a little while, to handle the malnutrition. You've also had a concussion and two broken ribs, but those mostly seem to have resolved on their own. Beyond that, it's primarily scrapes and bruises except for that right leg. Did you even know that both the tibia and fibula were broken at some point?"

"No."

"It looks like a dragging injury. The fractures stayed closed, but they weren't reduced properly before they began to heal. I can re-break and re-set them, but I'd just as soon leave that to the surgeons at the Starbase. Unless you want me to do it now?"

"I've waited this long. I suppose I can wait a bit longer." If she was going to have multiple surgeries, she was better off having them done as closely together as possible. "What about the other prisoner who was with me? He needs medical attention, too."

From the foot of the bio-bed, the security officer stirred. "He seemed to be all right."

"There's a huge difference between being on his feet and being all right. He'd been there for months."

"I'll send someone to the brig," said the doctor. "You, Admiral, need to rest until the evac shuttle gets here. Would you like a sedative? You can tolerate a mild one, if you need it."

"No. I'll be fine."

"It's just as well, since I need to talk to her."

Katrina turned toward the new voice. "Commander Saru."

"Admiral Cornwell," he replied. "It's good to see you back. We'd heard about your capture, but didn't know you'd been moved over to the Klingon flagship."

"What's the status of that?" she asked. "Did you defeat the cloaking technology?"

He blinked slowly. "I'm afraid I can't answer that right now."

"Right." She let her head fall back onto the pillow, although it occurred to her that the first officer's presence in Sickbay meant that the Discovery had to be out of immediate danger. The battle was over, then. "Well, let's get it over with. What do you need to know?"

"To begin with, I'd like to find out why Lieutenant Tyler has just arrested Captain Lorca."

"Did he go quietly?"

"Admiral," said Saru softly. "You're still under security detention yourself, until your identity can be verified."

She indulged in a grimace and a long sigh before replying. Time to take her own advice. "All right, then. I'll start at the beginning, with the peace talks at Cancri IV. As you know, they were a ruse…"

Saru was gentle during the debrief, mindful of her injuries, but it was still grueling simply because so much had happened since she'd left the Discovery. Fortunately, Katrina's DNA verification came through about halfway through the conversation, and he released her from the temporary detention. After that, she asked as many questions as she answered, wanting to catch up as quickly as she could.

The best news was that the Discovery had indeed found a way to defeat the Klingons' cloaking technology. "That," she told Saru, "almost makes everything we suffered on their ship worth it. Have you sent the specs to the rest of the fleet?"

"Not yet," he answered. "We are still refining the algorithm."

She shook her head. "Don't wait. Send what you have now. Use my personal encryption —" she broke off, remembering the realization she'd had very early in her captivity. "Damn. You can't. All my access codes would've been cancelled as a security precaution."

"Yes," he confirmed. "They were. And Captain Lorca did not believe standard encryption was safe enough."

"He was right. Okay, then, get a packet together to go with me on the med evac shuttle. We can't afford to risk losing the information we already have, if something were to happen to this ship."

As a Kelpien, Saru's expressions weren't particularly easy to read, but his voice was, and there was no mistaking the tone of pride that had crept in. "With all respect, Admiral, I don't believe we're in any danger at the moment."

"At the moment," she echoed. "You know as well as I do how quickly that could change."

He inclined his head. "You have a point. You're also the senior officer. I'll make sure Mr. Stamets and his team prepare a full report before the shuttle gets here. I should let you know that we'll be sending you back with a security detachment. Starfleet wants both Captain Lorca and the imposter moved off the front lines as quickly as possible."

As if she'd have been willing to leave without Gabriel anyway. It occurred to her that the commander might very well have been referring to him with the word imposter, instead of the actual one, but as long as the situation was under control she could let it slide. For now.

"All right," she said instead of arguing, and then turned her gaze on the doctor, who had silently reappeared. "Have you been able to find any differences between them?"

"Their DNA profiles are identical," she answered, "but you were right that they aren't clones. Neither one of them shows the transcription errors that are inherent with cloning. I'm not sure how this could have happened."

"Scan them both again."

"The Discovery's captain is refusing all medical procedures."

"He doesn't have a choice," snapped Katrina. "Run a full and comprehensive exam anyway. If he questions it, tell him I gave him the order. And remind him about the private conversations he and I had just before I left for Cancri IV." There was no need to bring up his fitness for command with anyone else now, particularly so soon after he'd accomplished such a dramatic victory, but he'd recognize the threat for what it was.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, ma'am. And now I think I need to insist on that sedative. Your heart rate's elevated, Admiral, and you're showing other signs of physiological stress."

Katrina didn't doubt it.

"Okay, Admiral," said the orderly. "That's the last strap. Any of them too tight?"

Katrina shifted, uncomfortable at the idea of being strapped down at all, even though she'd agreed to it. After speaking with Starbase Eighty-Eight, the Discovery's CMO had wanted to knock her out and set a full spinal block. She'd flatly, and loudly, refused. They'd compromised on partial block to keep her still, but no sedative, and that was when she'd learned she would also need to be restrained for safety during the transport.

"That's part of the reason I wanted to sedate you," the doctor had explained. "It won't be comfortable."

"I'll manage," she'd said. She'd decided she would rather be uncomfortable than unaware, and now, she was determined to stick with that assertion, no matter what.

"Everything's fine," she told the orderly now, shoving away the panic nibbling at the edge of her awareness. "But double-check my legs anyway. I can't see or feel them."

The stretcher shifted slightly as he pulled on the straps around her lower body. "Circulation's fine."

"All right." She closed her eyes. "Then let's get this over with as quickly as we can."

"We're still waiting on our other passengers," said the pilot.

Right. Opening her eyes again, she tried to twist her neck so that she could see the rear of the shuttle, but the cervical collar wouldn't let her move it far enough. Damn. They really did have her completely restrained.

Deal with it, she told herself as the panic made itself known again. You insisted on being awake.

The sound of footsteps was a welcome distraction. Fighting the collar again, she managed to bring the shuttle's other set of seats into her field of vision just as Gabriel sat down, or so she thought until she looked again and saw the open sneer on his face. When he spoke, his tone was mocking. "Is this your version of 'not wanting to ruin my career,' Katrina? Having me arrested and thrown in the brig in front of my entire crew?"

Definitely not Gabriel. "You know very well why you were put in there."

"Do I? They didn't tell me anything, just ran all these medical scans. On your orders, or so I'm told. What are you playing at? Do you seriously think Command'll listen to your concerns now, right after we destroyed the Ship of the Dead?"

"I just want to know who you really are."

He rolled his eyes, shrugging in a way that told her he was in restraints. "Gabriel Lorca, at your service."

"Hardly," she snapped.

"Who else would I be?"

As if in response, there was another set of footsteps, and the captain's face briefly registered shock and surprise before settling into a hardened mask. "You," he spat, "are supposed to be dead."

"I'm sorry to disappoint you," came the same voice from somewhere down near Katrina's feet. She couldn't completely suppress the shudder at hearing the nearly-identical cadences so close together. "I suppose you're the one who pulled me out of the Buran's engine room?"

The Discovery's captain narrowed his eyes but didn't respond.

"I don't remember how I ended up in that corridor," continued Gabriel as he sat down, finally coming into view. "Just that I did, and the next thing I knew I was in a transporter room full of Klingons. But it was too late. I'd already set the self-destruct and the warp core breached anyway."

At that, the captain scoffed. "Don't flatter yourself. I set the self-destruct. You were too weak to finish. Just like you were too weak to escape from the Klingons. It only took me a few days. You were there for months, and in the end had to be rescued instead of getting out on your own."

She could see the retort in his eyes, but instead of saying anything Gabriel took a sharp breath and turned away, angling himself so that he was only facing her. "How you doin', Kat? You're trussed up awfully tight."

"It's supposed to be a precautionary measure," she told him, trying and failing to keep her voice even. "Keep me from damaging anything worse than it already is."

In an eerie echo of his other self's expression, his eyes narrowed. "You going to survive the trip? Security told me it was six hours."

The Discovery's captain snorted. "It's not like she's never been uptight that long before. If not longer. Hell, I don't know if she's ever completely relaxed, if you know what I mean. Do you?"

Gabriel chose not to turn and face his doppelgänger, which meant Katrina could almost see the wheels turning in his mind as he mentally counted to ten, or recited an alphabet, or worked his way through some other calming mantra before responding. "You don't get to talk about her. In fact, you really ought to keep your mouth shut altogether."

"What, don't tell me you actually like that kind of stiff and frigid —"

"I said shut up!" exploded Gabriel, yanking at the restraints on his wrists as he turned around. "Not another word, not to her. Not to me. And not about either one of us. And don't you even fucking think you —"

"Enough," came Tyler's voice from the rear of the shuttle. "Both of you, sit down and shut up. Now. Admiral, are you all right?"

"Yes," she answered. "But these two gentlemen apparently haven't managed to work out their differences. How long were they in the brig together?"

"They weren't. We kept them apart. Which is," he said, "the way you're going to stay. Opposite ends of the bench," he directed them. "Tanith, Skoren, one of you on each of them but sit together in the middle. If either one of them starts something, you know what to do."

The Discovery's captain rolled his eyes again, but remained silent. With a sigh, Gabriel leaned back and shifted into a comfortable position for sleeping. Katrina would've done the same if she'd been able to move. It was going to be a long trip.