From Both Sides: Una

Five days.

Questions swirled in Una's head. Is Starfleet aware of our situation? What are our captors' next moves? Study us? Use us for propaganda purposes? Do they fear us? What repercussions might that bring? How can I keep my crew safe? Are their injuries healing? WWCD (what would Chris do)?

Her sprained and broken ankle ached. Their current plan for freeing themselves was digging into one of the walls to study its structure. They tunneled with a spoon; finding anything useful was a longshot as well as days or weeks away.

For five days they'd been imprisoned by the government of the largest, wealthiest nation on Kiley 279. Or more accurately by the military arm of that regime. Detained in a soundproofed concrete brig of thick walls with no windows. Native doctors treated the aliens' injuries with the best of their medical knowledge and practices which were a century behind Federation science. Otherwise Commander Chin-Riley and her team of two first contact specialists were trapped in a gray hole and ignored except for twice daily deliveries of solid nourishment and fluids.

Una sniffed the latest offering. Kiley 279 wasn't soon to be a coveted stop on a foodie tour. She tried imagining the fare as a plate of Chris' pancakes with his secret recipe raspberry syrup. And fresh strawberries. And bacon. Lots of bacon. And his coffee. No one brewed that beverage as well as Chris, not even the famed Admirals' stewards. Yet the real fare in front of her still smelled of seaweed and fish. Dissuaded she pushed her portion aside.

Remembrances of playful mornings and breakfasts in bed edged forward. After their first night together she'd donned one of Chris' robes and found him in the kitchen. He'd greeted her with a smile, a kiss, a plate of homemade offerings, and the explanation, "My father taught me a gentleman always makes breakfast the following morning."

Then he was first officer of Enterprise and she the ship's chief helmsman. They'd waited until leave before exploring their attraction, he insisting otherwise was unfair to her as he could be called to duty at any moment, and she deserved his undivided attentions. The word 'attentions' had been emphasized and delivered with his infamous dimpled grin, a Christopher Pike double entendre.

For eight weeks that summer they'd indulged in each other. In between making love were long walks through the fields hand in hand, horseback rides, picnics, canoeing the river, rock climbing, dinners by candlelight, and plans made for a future together. Because Chris believed in love and life-long romance and all those lovely intangibles. And he firmly maintained two seniors officers serving on the same ship could balance multiple roles in each other's lives citing Robert April and Doctor Sarah Poole as proof.

His adamance kindled and sustained her belief in those lovely intangibles. Tucked away in Montana at Chris' ranch, it was easy to throw off the secret she carried. Wrapped in his confidence and safety all felt possible, they'd have the other's backs, together they could and would overcome the insignificant and the adverse.

Yet back on Enterprise, as the months passed, realities challenged and faded her belief. Rather than lightened by the support of a partner, her secret weighed heavier for now its consequences hovered over another. So she kept her true identity to herself, and Chris sensed Una held something back from him, something big and important and it slowly eroded his confidence in their commitment.

Careers proved another stressor. As heir-apparent to Starfleet's flagship when Captain April moved on, Chris was nearing the apex of his goals. Una, a candidate in the first officer training program track, was still proving her competence for the next rung on the command ladder. Despite Chris' best intentions and efforts his shadow blanketed her at times. This angered and frustrated him as much as it did her.

At the close of their first year together when Chris talked of marriage, Una's reaction was hesitancy. She had sacrificed everything, perhaps even her future liberty, for a life in Starfleet and now questioned if that life required singular focus. Her vaguely explained reluctance widened a developing crack in their relationship.

A close call nearly outed her secret. It scared her. And her first instinct was protecting Chris. She ended the romance. In its stead they built a friendship and a formidable working partnership. He remained her trusted superior, her best friend, her most valued confidant, and to this day, as the Talosians correctly intuited, the love of her life.

Those knowing this history might judge it sad. But not Una. She was happy and believed herself fortunate. She'd known real love, the kind which forgives and lasts, and that cherished man steadfastly remained connected to all parts of her life. They finished each other's sentences, they communicated without words, their relationship endured and grew deeply intimate, platonic but as close as one can be to another being. And over the years, a handful of times, when one or both needed physical touch, that was offered in friendship without expectation and accepted.

Chris will come, once he knows he will come. With Enterprise or if that proves impossible with a ship, Starfleet or other, he's commandeered. He will always come for me.

The doors opened. A familiar figure stepped in.

Una tried sitting up and settled for propping on an elbow. "Captain? That's quite a look."

"How about thank you for saving me?" Pike said.

"Somehow I thought you might."