The sad truth of it was, Lorca's plan worked. Wainwright was much happier hearing bad news from Cornwell, and when Lorca did check in with Command later in the afternoon, Wainwright was practically bursting with pride that he had signed off a mission that had produced a wealth of information "unlike anything Starfleet has ever encountered!"
What Lorca did not know was that these words were, verbatim, Wainwright's response to almost every successful exploratory mission under his purview. This, though, was sure to be the proverbial feather in the admiral's cap. After a long career in which he had denied so many missions, he could say with full confidence all the ones he had approved were resounding successes with incredible results.
Cornwell was happy, too. Lorca's success reflected well on her for having set it all up in the first place. "Now aren't you glad you recommended me for this posting?" he asked when he followed up with her the next day.
"No bullshit?" said Cornwell, an old signal they used to provide moments of stark honesty. "Your report reads like a manual of what not to do, but no one around here cares because it worked."
Lorca beamed smugly at that. Truly exceptional captains utilized truly exceptional methods. "I still owe you. Why don't you come join us on Risa?"
"Exactly how many days are you planning to have engine trouble?"
"Depends on if you're coming or not."
She sighed. It did sound wonderful. If she left now, she might be able to make it. But there was a pile of work on her desk as a result of this mission, and Wainwright was going to lean on her heavily to process.
He saw the uncertainty. "No pressure. If you don't make it, I'm sure we'll find some other time." These days, those promises were getting harder and harder to keep.
It was also getting harder to stop him avoiding conversations he didn't want to have when the power to do so was a single finger tap away, but he was in a good mood, which greatly increased her odds. "I'm still concerned about Lalana's stability. I noticed you left that detail out of your report?"
He didn't need to ask what detail he'd left out, because it had been entirely intentional. "It's completely resolved itself. She's happy!" Exuberant, even. Benford had been assisting Lalana explore Earth's music history, and every day when Lorca checked on her, she had a new favorite song. Today's was "God Only Knows" by the Beach Boys, which she had played on a loop for two hours. Since the song was just under three minutes long, that amounted to over forty successive plays.
"The fact that she's happy now doesn't necessarily mean anything. Suicidal individuals often experience euphoria after a failed attempt. I think you mentioned it to me because you want me to help."
Lorca considered that. It was a fair point. "She'll talk your ear off on the comm if you let her. But I think you'll find she's fairly alien in how she processes things, so the rules of human psychology may not apply."
"I'm also concerned about you dumping her on a planet without any support network."
"You said you'd get her Federation citizenship." It would afford her the full safeguards and assistance of the Federation's many programs.
"Those wheels are already in motion. That's not the problem. Where will she live? What will she do?"
He shrugged. "Whatever she likes. She's more resourceful than you give her credit for." He was beginning to feel like Cornwell was admonishing him and it made him uncomfortable. "Talk to her. That's what you psychologists like to do. And if you're not convinced, as I am, that Lalana's gonna be just fine..."
Cornwell decided the giant pile of work could wait. "I want a secure channel and two hours completely uninterrupted," she said. "And absolutely no attempt to violate the security and content of our conversation."
"Doctor-patient confidentiality will be stringently observed," he promised. "If that's all, I've got to get back to the bridge."
Cornwell considered him carefully a moment. "Dismissed, captain."
The transmission ended. Captain. It really did have a nice ring to it, no matter what context Cornwell used it in.
There was nothing that buoyed the spirits of a starship's crew quite like the words "unrestricted shore leave on Risa." Immediately after the announcement, a line had formed to the transported that stretched almost the entire length of the ship. Lorca walked along this long line, returning the smiles and words of appreciation with a little smile and nod of his own. It was good to see the crew in high spirits, but there was one face he was looking for in particular.
He found her three-quarters of the way down the line, the only one who wasn't smiling. She did seem somewhat less grim than usual. "Chief. With me."
Billingsley's response to this was a look of annoyed confusion as she withdrew from the transporter queue and followed Lorca down the hall and past the end of the line.
Her initial instinct was that she was having her leave canceled to stay and do ship maintenance, and that rankled her. Once they were out of earshot, she said, "Captain, I've earned this leave. Lieutenant Marzak and his crew are more than capable—"
There was a glint in Lorca's eye. It was sort of adorable how bad she was at reading people. "There's this villa, overlooking the ocean," he said. "They reserve it for Starfleet bigwigs. Captain Archer stayed there his first time on Risa."
They passed the turbolift. She realized they were walking in a big, senseless circle around the circumference of the ship. He wasn't taking away her leave, he was simply coopting it for his own personal use. "I was going swimming," she responded, shifting the strap of the bag across her shoulder.
"You can practically drop off the balcony into the water," he countered.
She hesitated, picturing that.
"C'mon, Sarah," he drawled, and elbowed her lightly. A crewman with a bag of her own approached down the hall and Billingsley held her tongue until the other woman passed.
"Fine," she said. "But you're buying me dinner after."
Given the post-scarcity status of the economy, that made her a very cheap date.
It was a beautiful villa. Billingsley stood on the balcony and felt the sea breeze brush against her skin and did not regret coming with him one bit. Risa was a paradise. Even if the gravity was a little lighter than she liked, if she had to be on an Earthlike planet, she preferred this one to the world of humanity's origins. Peaceful. Quiet. A good place to focus.
Returning inside, she found Lorca talking to Benford about something to do with the lului. That damn lului. If she never saw another one in her life it would be a day too soon. She envied the captain a little. While she found all this running around to be a dissatisfying disruption to her engineering work, he seemed to thrive on it, and there was a palpable excitement in his voice as he confirmed arrangements with Benford. "Great," Lorca was saying, "give Cornwell my thanks and let me know when it's done."
"You got it," said Benford, and the call ended.
Lorca looked over at Billingsley, smiling broadly. She felt a pang of annoyance. He had never smiled that like because of her. "I am officially free of duty," he announced, patting the bed. "How about another go?"
She came near enough that he was able to hook her with one arm and toss her onto the bed, but she did not dissolve into the embrace as she might have and instead remained stiff and unyielding. "What?" he asked after a minute of not getting the response he desired.
"You're different with her."
"'Her?'" he echoed. "The only person I'm with right now is you." He meant it in more than the literal sense, because he hardly counted what he had done with Serot on Luluan as anything, and Cornwell wasn't even in the same sector.
When she spoke, she said the name in three, heavily-punctuated syllables of mocking disdain. "La-la-na." She also mispronounced the name, as people were wont to do when taking it at face written value. Wainwright hadn't grasped the distinction even after he'd been corrected twice, and Lorca had decided not to press the point with the admiral.
Lorca rolled his eyes and sat up. "Not this again."
"Again?" She sat up, too.
"Is there some rumor on the ship I'm not aware of?"
"Rumor?"
They seemed to be on different tracks of thought. "What are you talking about?"
She explained. "Every time you talk to the lului, or about the lului, or anyone even mentions the lului, you... You smile more. You laugh." She frowned and looked away. "You never laugh with me."
Lorca did laugh then, but a short laugh, more judgmental than joyous. "I'll have you know I laugh all the time, it's just, you don't have any sense of humor." It was half-tease, half-truth. "So, what, you're jealous of Lalana?"
"I didn't say that," Billingsley huffed.
"I like Lalana. She's funny. But she's not the one I invited here," Lorca pointed out.
Billingsley's face furrowed. "How would that even work?"
Lorca chuckled then, and shook his head. "I have no idea. But as for how this works..." He pressed her back down on the bed with a kiss and found her much more reciprocating.
When they were done, they dressed and headed out for dinner. There was a restaurant Yoon had recommended, a real hole in the wall on a side-street off a plaza, but finding it required stopping twice to ask for directions. Billingsley was annoyed. "Why didn't the first person just say to turn after the fountain?" she fumed as they made their way down a street of cobblestone.
There were any number of reasons, thought Lorca. Perhaps they'd forgotten the fountain was there, or simply gotten mixed up as to the location. The locals always tried their best to help visitors, but that didn't mean they had a one hundred percent success rate.
They finally found the restaurant, a little wooden façade set into a shadowy offshoot that felt a lot like an alleyway. There weren't many people around, but opening the door revealed the restaurant was packed. Apparently it was one of the best-known little secrets on Risa.
Getting a table to themselves was impossible, but by some stroke of luck, Yoon and Morita were there as well.
"Captain, please, join us!" said Yoon, signaling the waiter to bring two chairs. This being Risa, additions at the dinner table were a matter of course.
Lorca glanced at Billingsley to see if she wanted to. She was already striding past him to the table. There was really no winning with Billingsley. Even trying to be considerate just ticked her off.
Yoon smiled brightly and Morita stood as Lorca and Billingsley sat down. "The dishes here are just amazing," said Yoon. "I've already ordered a few. I'll add some more to make sure there's enough." She spoke briefly with the waiter, no menu required. "Oh! I hope you don't mind me ordering for us."
"I trust you," said Lorca, speaking from experience.
Yoon beamed and said to Billingsley, "I just love how adventurous the captain is, don't you? Some people are so picky when it comes to strange foods."
Billingsley glanced appraisingly at Lorca, then said to Yoon, "I know, the captain will eat anything."
Lorca's eyes widened. She hadn't just said that. He wanted to kick her under the table, but it would only make things worse if he did. "Do they serve alcohol here?" he said quickly, but Morita's raised eyebrow suggested she'd caught his expression and figured out exactly what Billingsley meant. How Billingsley had said it with a straight face, he didn't know. He liked it better before she had decided to try and have a sense of humor. At least Yoon seemed to have taken the statement at face culinary value.
The food was everything Yoon promised, but unfortunately for Billingsley, the conversation soon turned to Lalana. "I'm so excited for her," said Yoon. "I gave her a whole list of planets to visit with the most unusual foods. She's gonna try everything! And learn to dance. Reiko lined up an instructor here on Risa. Can you imagine? She can spend as much time as she wants on any planet and still have plenty of time to see more. Ah, I'm so jealous!"
Billingsley glowered and picked at her food. Even Yoon, one of her few friends on the ship, clearly preferred the lului's company.
After dinner, they walked back to the villa in the warm night air. Billingsley remained in a foul mood and Lorca did not press her.
In the morning, when she said she wanted to spend the day swimming, Lorca did not try to stop her. Instead, he dressed, went downstairs to the information desk, and asked, "Which way to the offices of the planetary directory?"