Timeline: Takes place during the events of "An Obol for Charon". Mirrors the events of the episode, including things I don't specifically address.
It's early enough where Leah stretches in the hallway, figuring that she won't run into much traffic or block anyone's way. She inserts her earbuds and sets up her music, and is about to start off, when Pike's door opens and he comes out, dressed in running shorts and the same "DISCO" T-shirt that she's wearing.
He's only two doors down from her; it's actually somewhat surprising that she hasn't run into him in the hallway previously. She feels like she's bumped into most of the other senior officers at this point, especially Stamets, who is directly across from her.
She takes out her earbuds. "Captain."
"Ambassador. Morning run?"
"Yep. Looks like you're doing the same?"
"Sure am. Give me five to stretch and I'll join you? We can pace each other."
She nods; she's missed running with the medical team on the Republic. "Sounds good to me. I'm still learning my way around the deck."
He starts stretching, bending over and touching his toes, and raising up slowly. "I like to do about an hour or so. If we keep a good pace, that gets us all the way around the deck. That OK with you?"
"Perfect."
They don't talk much, except for him to give directions. She keeps her earbuds in and zones out to the music, but it's nice to have someone with her, and she feels herself pushing harder with the extra motivation. He's got a good route worked out, and they wind up back in their own hallway an hour later, coming to a stop and catching their breath.
"That was great." She smiles, sucking in air.
"Glad it worked for you." He pauses. "Same time tomorrow? It was kind of nice having company."
Yes, it was. Specifically, his company. She finds she's getting used to the easy companionship that they've achieved; the natural way things seem to have fallen together between them.
The coffee break yesterday, for instance. Once she'd actually gotten off her ass and done something about not being able to get him out of her head, it had felt perfectly normal. That of course, they would spend a few quiet minutes in the afternoon and share their days with one another. Talk out problems.
And now the same thing is happening. Of course, they meet up in the morning to go running together. It would be strange not to.
"Same time tomorrow, then."
Mornings are quiet in the mess hall; she takes a table by herself, her back to the doors, setting down her tray and two PADDs. One work and one personal.
She munches on a breakfast wrap in between sips of coffee as she scans the overnight dispatches. For all the struggles of the SDC as it continues to evolve, one thing it is very good at is keeping its people informed. Every morning she has a dozen dispatches and reports waiting for review, and they are well-organized and helpful.
She takes notes for the briefing as she reads and eats, finishing with the breakfast wrap and moving on to a bowl of blackberries. Her brow furrows as she reviews the last of the dispatches, and she reorganizes her notes, moving the Corelli civil war higher up on the list due to the potential issues with dilithium supply.
Finished with work, she pulls the other PADD towards her, scanning her own messages.
She smiles, tapping the first on the list, and the video opens. She turns the volume down low; even though the mess hall is quiet, she doesn't want to disturb anyone.
The chief engineer of the Republic appears on her screen, and her smile widens. In addition to being a hell of an engineer, Leo Ferrani is the captain of the Republic's Parrises Squares team.
"Hey, Leah. Wanted to send you a quick note saying hi. We missed you at practice last night. I hope you're going to be back before our game against the Enterprise...we're going to need you, from what I hear. Anyway - I hope things are going OK out there for you. T'Sora is a good goalkeeper, but she isn't you, so you get your ass back here soon, you hear? Take care."
She laughs, shaking her head as the message ends. Leo is the perfect team captain, devoted to the game to the exclusion of nearly anything else...except his beloved warp engines.
With a start...she realizes that Leo's message didn't make her homesick for the Republic. She misses it, yes...but she's beginning to settle in here. Make friends.
Especially...a certain captain. Who she seems to be spending a large portion of her free time with...
She feels a tap on her shoulder, and turns, seeing Pike standing next to her as if on cue. "Hey."
"Hey." He glances at the mess hall door. "Briefing?"
"Oh!" She starts, glancing at the hall clock. "I'm sorry...I lost track of time…"
"It's okay. I'm late too. Let's go."
As they walk to the lift, she shakes her head. "Sorry about that...I got distracted."
"No apology needed. What were you working on?"
"A couple of reports that came in overnight. There are going to be some disruptions in dilithium supplies, unfortunately...a civil war."
He grimaces. "That's not going to be fun."
"What about you?"
He glances at the PADD he's carrying as the door closes. "My first officer from the Enterprise was here. Number One brought me some information on Spock. Let's see…"
She leans back against the wall of the lift as he scans the PADD, eyebrows lifting. "It looks like she was able to get some intel from Starbase Five. We might…" He looks up. "We might have a way to find Spock."
The lift stops and they disembark, Pike striding into the ready room slightly ahead of her. "Everyone to your stations. Detmer, set a course for 108 Mark 4, maximum warp."
On the bridge, she settles into her morning routine, cataloging her notes for tomorrow's briefing; there was nothing major anyway, other than the dilithium issues. She pulls up the next of the overnight reports, starting to work through the ones that hadn't been flagged as critical…
...and almost falls out of her chair as the ship rocks.
She turns, watching as Pike comes on the bridge. "Detmer, status."
"Something has grabbed us out of warp sir...the helm is unresponsive."
He calls for red alert. "Tractor beam?"
Owo shakes her head. "More powerful than that, sir. I'm unable to raise shields."
"We're at a full stop sir. Whatever has us, we're locked into place."
"Like a damn fly in a web," he mutters.
She rises from her station as the image appears on the viewscreen.
"And there is the spider," Burnham says softly.
In the science lab, he stares at the image as Burnham breaks it down. "Starfleet has never encountered anything like it. It melds organic and non-living matter. It's also ancient; initial scans put it at one hundred thousand years old."
"Organic? Are you saying it's a life form? Maybe it is a damn spider, I hate spiders."
"It is premature to assign anthropomorphic characteristics or intent. As of yet it hasn't responded to any hails."
He nods, slowly. "Still. If there's a chance it's alive…" He turns, leaning out of the door. "Ambassador? Join us please?"
She comes in as Burnham turns on the audio. "The sphere is vibrating. The computer extrapolated what it might sound like based on the surrounding ambient radiation."
"Well, it has my ship, and I don't know what in the hell it wants. Kennedy? Thoughts on how we could communicate with it?"
She looks at the screen, brow furrowed. "Nothing's coming to mind immediately, Captain. But I'll start going through Federation diplomatic records to see if I can find something useful. There might be some sort of hybrid life form...maybe a silicon base, that's theoretical at this point though..."
He taps the table. "We don't have much time. If we can't figure out how to talk to it - if it even can - I'm going to order disabling it. It has the ship."
She nods. "Understood."
Except that's not what she says. What she says is, "Oui, je comprends."
She blinks.
Pike replies, but she can't understand him, because it comes out in...Spanish?
Burnham is speaking something else that sounds vaguely like Klingon. They all look at each other in confusion.
And that's about when the red alert sirens start, and they break for the door.
It's chaos on the bridge, everyone speaking different languages. Until Saru - despite being clearly sick - arrives, is able to understand almost everyone, and can cobble together a solution that will at least allow them to communicate with each other.
Detmer taps at the helm. "I still can't read my controls. I think this is...Tau Cetian?"
Saru sighs. "Am I the only one who bothered to learn a foreign language? I have localized the backup bridge translator. For the time being, everyone who speaks Earth English can communicate."
"The rest of the crew and the computer are another matter. The virus will continue spreading. I can try purging it from the main interface…" Burnham trails off.
Pike nods. "We have to be able to talk to each other and the computer to have any chance of breaking the ship free. Do it."
"Commander." Leah looks at Saru. "Any chance you can get my station readable? So that I can search Federation archives?"
Saru nods tiredly. "I will see what I can do, Ambassador." He moves to her station and taps a few keys, squints, then taps a few more. The station clears and displays correctly.
"Thank you, Saru." She sits, beginning to quickly type, as Saru moves to join Burnham in leaving to try and purge the virus.
She has a few ideas. She remembers reading a dispatch, a year or so ago, on a first contact where the civilization communicated entirely through movements. Not just hand language, but a full-body expression, almost like a dance. Perhaps there's something useful there...
Behind her, Pike is talking to Stamets in engineering, priming the spore drive in the event that they need it.
"If we can't fly this thing, Commander...we may have to jump away."
"Spore drive will be ready, sir."
He lets go of the comm key and stands from his chair, walking over behind Leah. "Are you finding anything?"
She shakes her head. "Burnham said that Starfleet had never encountered anything like this. She's right. I'm not finding anything even close. I have a few ideas yet, but my first thoughts haven't paid off."
"Anything I can do to help?"
"No…" She stares at the screen. "There are some records of visual communication being successful when an audible language didn't work."
"You think we should try Morse code off the deflector dish?"
She chuckles. "Not quite, I think. Where would we aim it? We don't even know if it has anything like...eyes? Visual sensors at all? And there's still the language thing."
"Good point." He crosses his arms. "Keep looking."
"Will do."
"Burnham to bridge. Universal translator is back up and running, shipwide, on all systems."
Pike breathes a sigh of relief as the consoles clear; it feels good to at least have some control of the ship back. "Status, everyone?"
"Confirmed, sir. Helm is...legible."
"Ops too, sir."
"Tactical?"
"Yes sir."
"Good."
He's got options now, at least a few, and more importantly, the level of panic among the crew starts to ratchet down. They can all think more clearly, explore ways to get out of this.
He stands up again, going back over to Leah's station. She doesn't take her eyes from the screen, continuing to scan records. "You're hovering."
"I would never." He props an arm on her station, leaning over. "You're my best bet right now, Kennedy. You've got to find me something or we're going to have to blast our way out."
She sighs. "I know. And that may be what we'll have to do. But I'll keep trying."
"That's all I ask."
The relief is short-lived, as the ship lurches and the consoles become unreadable again, including Leah's. Pike almost falls into her before he catches himself. "What the hell just happened?"
He's echoed by Burnham's page. "Bridge, what happened? Did the sphere fire on us?"
Owo scans her readouts. "Negative. The EPS conduits are overloading. Systems are going haywire. The virus is spreading."
Pike slowly stands up. "Comms down again?"
"Yes sir."
He straightens his jacket. "All right. I'm going to sickbay, see if we had any injuries from the overload since we can't talk to them from here. Everyone, keep working on solutions, with an eye towards having to force our way free."
He runs into Burnham and Saru on the way, and immediately helps support his first officer, taking the side that Burnham doesn't already have. And once they reach sickbay, he gets the bad news.
Saru. Dying.
He files it away to deal with later. Right now, he has to concentrate on an entire ship full of lives, not just one. One life is going to have to wait.
He lingers, lending an extra pair of hands to help with a wounded crewmember, as Saru speaks up from his bed. "There may be a way to slow the virus. If we can analyze its properties...we could develop digital antibodies."
"And that could give us back enough control to break the ship free."
"In theory. But it will be a slow process...like army ants, eating a water buffalo."
Burnham turns. "I'm on it. Going to the science lab."
"You will need my help…"
"Saru." He steps away, looking vaguely at the blood on his hands. "Commander Burnham can handle this. There's no reason to risk your health any further."
"I am dying, Captain. But I am most certainly...not dead."
He looks back at his hands. "I'm going back to the bridge. Maybe Ambassador Kennedy has something for us."
She doesn't, and he feels that her frustration is matching his own. "Systems keep going in and out, Captain. I can't get into the archives with any degree of reliability."
"We've got to be able to do something about that," he mutters. "We're too reliant on one computer core. Even with backups."
She taps a finger on her station. "I might have a couple of limited backup files in my office on PADDs. Just some things I've saved. I could go take a look…"
"No. I don't want anyone running around the ship if they don't have to. If we lose more systems, it's going to get dangerous."
She nods. "I agree with you. If I haven't found anything by now, I don't think I'm going to. I'm sorry."
"It's not your fault. You tried."
The mood on the bridge is somber as Burnham returns and another concern becomes pressing: the imminent loss of contact with Spock's shuttle.
Burnham leaves again for engineering to try and reroute power to shields. Pike is restless, circulating between stations, and he loops back over to Leah's. "I don't suppose you've had any epiphanies."
She shakes her head. "I wish we had more time. Whatever this is, it's incredibly unique. I understand that ultimately we may have to destroy it to free ourselves, but…"
"I know. But we're running out of options."
"Captain!" Detmer calls. "I was able to raise shields. But we're still being held by the status field."
"Power levels coming and going, Captain," Owo adds.
"I'm reading an energy buildup from inside the sphere. Spiking 10,000 degrees Kelvin and rising. No identifiable weapons. But its internal temperature is now 20,000 degrees Kelvin."
Pike nods, his face becoming more resolute at Rhys' report. "Divert all non-essential power to weapons. Lock on to that thing's radial axis and prepare to fire photon torpedoes on my order."
Leah stands, walking up to the viewscreen, and he turns to look at her. "We can't find a way to communicate. I'm sorry, Ambassador. We're out of time."
She nods. "I understand, Captain. You have my support."
"Captain! Hold your fire! I do not believe the sphere means us any harm."
They both turn as Saru staggers onto the bridge, followed closely by Burnham. Pike looks dubious.
"All evidence to the contrary, that thing is about to destroy us."
"It's not trying to destroy us, Captain. It's trying to send us a message."
"We received its message, I'm about to send our reply."
Saru turns to Leah. "Ambassador. My death process - I believe - has been triggered because the sphere is also dying. We Kelpiens have a defining trait hard-wired into our DNA. Empathy. I can feel the sphere reaching out, trying to share something before it expires."
Burnham chimes in. "Captain, Ambassador. I trust Saru's feelings implicitly. That sphere didn't come to attack us."
And then Saru drops the bombshell. "I believe I have discerned its means of communication."
She looks at Pike and he looks back at her, and she sucks in a breath. "That...complicates things."
He winces. He hadn't wanted to hear that.
"Detmer, status on Spock's shuttle."
"We'll lose the warp signature in six minutes, sir. Once we lose it, we won't be able to reacquire it."
"Plot an intercept course, I want us hauling ass the second we break free." He turns back, crossing his arms. "Keep talking and make it fast."
Saru gathers his energy. "What if the sphere was not attacking our universal translator...but attempting to teach us its language?"
Leah freezes. "An information dump. A...sort of Rosetta stone."
"Precisely, Ambassador."
She turns back to Pike. "It's been done before, when the universal translators have a hard time coping. A large enough sample with some common points of reference."
Saru is nodding. "It wants to be remembered. To preserve its history using the Discovery . But it cannot, unless we power down and let it in."
Pike's hackles rise. "That thing snatched us out of warp and almost gutted this ship. What if we lower shields and that's exactly what it needs to end us?"
Saru staggers to his station. "Computer. Adjust viewscreen to ultraviolet. This...is the light pattern I have been seeing everywhere. Repeating again and again. Generated by the sphere's virus." He takes a breath. "Computer. Run the light pattern through the universal translator. I believe...we are looking at a multitude of languages so advanced, and knowledge so vast, that it simply overloaded our systems."
"The sphere is over a hundred thousand years old. Imagine what it knows, what it's seen. Captain, this falls under Discovery 's original mission as a science vessel." They all stare at the viewscreen for a moment, as Burnham speaks, contemplating the sphere. "The internal temperature is still rising."
Rhys calls out from tactical. "Our weapons will just disintegrate in that heat, Captain."
"A sign of core collapse." Saru sounds like he is near a breaking point. "Captain, if we are correct...once the transmission is complete, the sphere can die, knowing that it will live on. We can choose to fulfill our part in its destiny...or simply let it fade away. Unremembered."
Pike sighs. "Ambassador, a word."
They step over to her station for as much privacy as possible on a busy bridge. "We have to do this together."
"We do, Captain." She manages a wry smile for him.
He looks uncomfortable. "It's your jurisdiction now, if Saru and Burnham are right. It's first contact. But the safety of the ship and the crew are mine."
"I know. And...there's Spock."
"Precisely."
She inhales. "My instincts say they're right. My official recommendation is that we follow Commander Saru's plan and lower shields immediately."
Pike grits his teeth. "I knew you were going to say that."
"But - Christopher - " She reaches out and lightly touches his forearm, surprising them both. "You have my full support, no matter what you decide. Publicly and privately."
He catches her eyes, and is about to say more, but Owo calls out. "Spock's shuttle is almost out of sensor range, sir."
There's a heartbeat, the decision hanging in the balance.
"Prepare to lower shields."
She lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, and swallows hard as he outlines a last-ditch contingency plan in the event of disaster. It's not much of a shot, but having a plan goes a long way towards keeping everyone calm.
Pike resettles himself in the command chair and she steps up to stand beside it in a show of unity, folding her arms behind her back. He nods at her. "Ambassador Kennedy and I are in agreement. If you're correct, we're bound by oath and conscience not to let it vanish forever. Commanders, take your stations. We'll follow your lead."
Shields down.
Saru is barely standing, but manages to direct the operation, throwing comm channels open and putting the entirety of Discovery's computer resources to the task of absorbing whatever the sphere sends their way.
"Transmission is downloading!"
She lets out another breath and turns a smile Pike's way. He's still tense; the sphere is still going to destruct, and it's a race against the clock now.
"How long until it blows?"
"Seconds, Captain."
"Detmer, can you put enough distance between us in time?"
"Negative, sir, we're still being held by the stasis field."
"Transmission complete!"
And the sphere blows.
He's shouting orders but it's doing no good, and as the shockwave hits the ship, she falls to a knee, and one of his hands shoots out, grabbing hers and helping to keep her from entirely falling as the ship slowly glides to a stop.
The bridge is utterly silent, everyone staring at the viewscreen flooded with light.
Saru gasps at the sight. "It's almost like...music."
Leah straightens up as Pike slowly lets go of her hand. "It is," he says softly. "I'm at a loss as to how we're still alive to see it…"
Burnham is smiling, looking almost to the point of tears. "The stasis field reversed polarity. A second before detonation. It saved us. So that we could tell its story."
The relief is short-lived, as Saru is on the brink of collapse. Burnham staggers to the turbolift with him, and silence descends on the bridge. They depart, and Pike looks over at her, taking a deep breath.
"Ambassador. Would you give me...half an hour? And then join me in my ready room?"
"Certainly, Captain."
He's got about ten minutes before she's going to be there, and he's thinking about breakfast.
Specifically, breakfast that morning.
He distracts himself, briefly, by grabbing coffees from the synthesizer for them both, setting her cappuccino on the edge of the desk. It's been a long day already and he knows that he certainly could use the pick-up. And he turns on one of the translations that's coming through from the sphere: a music file, something vaguely resembling opera.
But then it's back to thinking about breakfast.
He'd seen Leah watching her video message, and hadn't wanted to interrupt her, even with being late for the morning briefing…
...but he'd also seen the smile on her face at the person talking. That wide, lovely smile that he's been enjoying so much over the last days. And it's making him think.
It's sort of a default setting to assume that Starfleet officers are available. Pike grimaces; it's certainly the case for most captains. Between professional boundaries and the sheer lack of time, not to mention the difficulties if people are on different ships, the assumption is entirely fair.
But he's never explicitly checked with her about what's happening between the two of them. He doesn't know for certain that she's free, and he hasn't ever told her that he is. They've just been circling around each other, like binary stars, drawing closer and closer together, every day a new step forward.
But she'd looked really happy about that message. Really happy.
He drums his fingers on the desk. He thinks she would have said something; she doesn't seem at all like the kind of person who wouldn't. But there's one easy way to answer that question...by asking one of his own.
His train of thought is interrupted by the door chime.
"Come."
Leah steps in and immediately stops, looking around in wonder and trying to find the source of the music filling the room. "What is that?"
"It's from the sphere." He motions to his side, and she smiles to see the cappuccino waiting on the desk. "Pull up a chair and have a look."
He turns the volume down as she scoots the chair around and moves the coffee to the edge of the desk, looking down at the display. "Oh my god."
"I know. It's incredible."
The music pauses for a moment, and then resumes. He smiles. "Computer's still working on the translation. There's a lot to do."
She shakes her head. "I can't imagine. A hundred thousand years of experiences. This is going to change so much." She pauses. "Do you think...it's going to take years to go through all of this. But I'd be shocked if there isn't technology well beyond anything we have now. Do you think we'll use it responsibly?"
He winces. "I'd like to say yes. I hope so."
She sits back in the chair, listening. "It's hard to think that it's a bad thing, though. With this kind of beauty as part of the package."
"You've got to wonder how it heard this music."
"Maybe it encountered a ship just like ours. Traded for it."
"It's a shame we only found it when it was dying." He sighs. "It's sad...but I'm glad we were able to grant its last wish."
She nods, as the music changes, becoming softer: some kind of wind instrument, accompanied by a few simple string chords. She picks up her cappuccino, taking a sip. "I could listen to this for hours."
"You're welcome to stay as long as you want to."
She smiles, settling back in the chair. "How is Commander Saru?"
"Recovering." He shakes his head. "Add it to the list of incredible things for today. And it's not even noon."
"I'm glad. His instincts...kept us from losing this." She gestures at the air, indicating the music. "He saw what none of the rest of us could see."
They sit in silence for a moment.
"Today wasn't easy," he finally says softly, shifting his body towards hers. "You and I had some weird ground to navigate. Captain and CDO with competing priorities. "
"Yes...yes indeed. How do you think we did?"
"I think...that I need to get Hannah Zimmerman very, very drunk. So that I can steal you."
He's grinning with that charming crooked smile, and she laughs, but the laugh fades as their eyes meet. She thinks back to that moment on the bridge when their hands had linked, after the explosion, and he'd caught her to keep her from falling.
His eyes flick down to her hand, resting on the arm of the chair. They flick back up.
Very slowly, he reaches over, and brushes his fingertips over the back of her hand. It's as light as the touch of a butterfly's wing, but her heart still jumps into her throat.
Okay. Steal me.
He leaves his hand lightly covering hers. Waiting to see what she'll do.
She turns her palm up.
Their fingers interlace, and it's a much more solid touch now. One of them should say something, probably, but her thoughts are blank, occupied solely with the warm hand holding hers. He doesn't look like he's doing much better; she sees surprise, delight, excitement, and nervousness all battling on his face.
"I'm, ah...I'm a little lost, here."
She licks her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "I think I know what you mean."
He stops. His eyes lock onto hers, and his voice drops lower, softer, but is still intent. "Leah, maybe I should have asked this earlier, but...is there anyone special? Back on the Republic, or... ?"
She shakes her head.
No, there's no one, and there hasn't been for a long time. She's prioritized work, like so many in the fleet. The most special people to her are probably her Parrises Squares teammates, and that's definitely not what he's talking about. But...his question says more clearly than anything that's happened between them so far that perhaps there's room for more. And that he's interested in it. In her. And his question...has also given her a way to show that interest back.
Her mouth is still dry, and she matches his soft tone. "What about you? Is there anyone on the Enterprise? Or somewhere else?"
"No. No one."
And with that, the door chime rings.
They both jerk, startled. She takes a deep breath as their hands let go, and readjusts herself in her chair, straightening up and pulling her coffee towards her. He hits a key on the desk, changing the music to a spoken audio file.
They look at each other for a moment, and he clears his throat. "Come."
Burnham walks in. "Captain. Ambassador."
"Commander." He gestures at the desk. "We're taking a look at some of the data from the sphere. The computer's translations...it's like we found our galaxy's Dead Sea Scrolls. Thanks to you and Saru." He grimaces. "I hope it was worth the cost."
"It cost us nothing, sir. I combed through the sphere's records and found the last thing that it saw. Spock's shuttle. I was able to track it beyond our sensor range."
He glances at the data PADD, and then back up, tapping the key for comms. "Helm. Commander Burnham is sending you the coordinates for Spock's shuttle. Plot a course and don't spare the horses."
"Aye sir."
Leah rises, and busies herself with putting her empty coffee cup back in the synthesizer as Burnham and Pike exchange quiet words about Spock. Duty is calling, and they are going to need to talk about what just happened...but it's going to have to wait, because the shipwide page is chiming, and all three of them look up.
"Commander Burnham and Ambassador Kennedy. Report to engineering immediately."