A/N: Anaya is pronounced: 'long a – neigh – short a'

Present

Day 2

Noohra, 6:00 a.m.

Aalin roused the children for breakfast at dawn having decided on an early start to make up for lost time. With sleep elusive the previous night, she had scouted ahead and was relieved today's trek would be over flat, barren terrain easy for small legs to traverse, and empty of distractions, being without even trees for shade. After the demanding path down the mountain, this open plain was a welcome sight and surged her confidence. She had another idea as well for keeping them focused. If I can get them moving quickly, we will be away from the foothills and starting across the high plain by mid-morning.

When walking the straw-like grass and the rocks had left scratches, scrapes, and bruises on her bare feet. As the children ate, she tried to bind them with strips of cloth, mimicking the coverings the poorer villagers used. But her efforts were unskilled, and she doubted the homemade construction would survive the morning. Starfleet issued uniform boots could betray her identity and thus were a liability and now at the bottom of a lake.

After a successful head count and helping the older children secure the babies on their backs, Aalin put on a sling Spock fashioned allowing her to carry a baby on her back as well as another over her chest. She took the hands of two small children in hers and said in the local dialect, "Let's go. Today I'll teach you a new song, which group can learn it the fastest?"

Shenzhou Holding at Station Near Noohra, 9:10 a.m.

Georgiou entered the bridge sipping a cup of green tea as Michael delivered the morning's status report. With the ship on stand-down, schedules were relaxed and the atmosphere informal.

"… Sickbay reports one injury from last night's mixed martial arts tournament."

"Is it serious?"

"No, Lieutenant T'vek is limited to light duty for the next three days."

"Who was his partner?"

"Ensign Hanson from life sciences," Michael replied a raised eyebrow underscoring her disbelief.

Georgiou's eyes danced with merriment and her mouth curved in a slight smile, "Unassuming Hanson, who barely meets Starfleet's height requirements for a human and whose delicate frame looks as if it could be blown away with a puff of air, brought down a six foot five Vulcan? Impressive."

"It is not logical."

Her smile now a full-blown grin Georgiou reminded, "Never underestimate the quiet, nor the small. Nor any being who doesn't fit into society's definition of ideal. Anything planned for today?"

"Continued maintenance. And Enterprise commences battle drills in twenty minutes."

"Very well, helm move us out of the area Enterprise has reserved, but keep us nearby," Georgiou instructed. "Michael, call the command trainees to the bridge so they may observe. Ask them to deliver an analysis of the drills by fourteen hundred tomorrow." As Michael took her station, Georgiou added, "And this time don't require the assignment be repeated if they misplace a preposition or two in their reports."

"Accuracy is essential in all that we do," Michael pointed out in her usual serious tone.

"Yes, but absolute accuracy, in other words perfection, is not attainable. I want them to think, to assess, to see the big picture as well as the nuance. I don't want them fretting about being bounced out of the program because their sentence structure was less than ideal."

"Yes, sir."

"OK, heads up all. Watching the flagship perform battle practice is a rare opportunity. Pay attention."

Enterprise Holding at Station Near Noohra, 9:20 a.m.

Amin, Mann, and Nicola, respectively at navigation, operations, and communications, traded questioning glances when their Captain entered the bridge ten minutes before the battle drills were scheduled to commence and settled into his chair. Typically the executive officer or the second officer, which on Enterprise was its security chief, supervised ship-wide drills, and the relevant department head localized ones. Lieutenant Scott arrived a few seconds later and quietly relieved the engineer manning his department's station. Scotty reported, "Chief Louvier states all is ready sirs."

Commander Isak Bengsston stood behind his subordinate at tactical. "Weapons are ready sir."

Number One raised an eyebrow at Spock who nodded almost imperceptivity.

The 'hiccup' in the drill planned for disabling the Aschaski reconnaissance flights' navigation and weapons was on a close hold – Pike, Una, Isak, Louvier, Scotty, John, and one additional engineer – limiting the possibility of its premature discovery and granting plausible deniability for the rest of the crew.

"Captain, all boards are green, the area reserved for our maneuvers is clear of other ships," Number One reported. "We are ready. Drills scheduled to start in eight minutes."

"Very well. Begin now," Pike ordered.

That caught Una off-guard, a very, very rare occurrence. She thought, does this reflect his impatience or is it strategy? Perhaps a ploy to unsettle the Aschaski?

She inquired, "Sir?"

"Go."

"Yes sir," was her crisp response. "Sound red alert, mute klaxon, announce drill. Launch practice drones. Ready phasers. First sequence on my mark in ten … seven … three, two one. Mark."

Shenzhou, 9:45 a.m.

The junior helmsman, Keyla Detmer, pointed as Enterprise performed a series of barrel rolls while firing simultaneous multi-directional phaser barrages, the first eliminating seven 'enemy' drones, the second the remaining five. She whistled and shook her head, "How can a ship her size turn at those tight angles and with such precision?"

"I believe you could build the skills needed for executing a similar maneuver," Georgiou encouraged the young woman who had joined the Shenzhou crew two months prior. "Give it a try in the simulator."

"Commander Chin-Riley is the rumored to be the best helmsman in the fleet." The navigator's voice was tinged with awe.

"Look at that photon torpedo spread. Eight drones, each in a different location covering a full circle, three hundred sixty degrees mind you, each a different distance from the ship. Every drone exploded at exactly the same instant," Lieutenant Gant pointed out.

Saru remarked, "Commander Bengsston's marksmanship record at the Academy has never been beaten, even after all these years."

"Not bad," Michael offered.

Georgiou hid amusement behind her cup. Few were as competitive as her first officer. "Feel up to the challenge? I could arrange for a match between you two."

Michael drew to her full height, placing arms and clasped hands behind her back. Standing at full attention she replied, "I shall endeavor to represent Shenzhou well."

Noohra, 9:45 a.m.

Aalin breathed a sigh of relief as they exited the rocky foothills onto the flat plain. Their pace during these first hours was better than yesterday. "Water and snack break," she called out. In fifteen minutes the group resumed walking.

She said, "OK, next verse. Esro." It was a simple counting song which distracted the children from the rigors of the journey and its rhythm sounded a beat for pacing. She translated the song into the prominent local dialect. "This old man, he played ten, he played knick-knack once again with a knick-knack paddy-wack give the dog a bone this old man comes rolling home."

The clear sky and bright sun promised a hot day ahead. A far away hum pricked at her sensitive hearing, and she turned in the direction of the noise. On the horizon Aalin saw two grey shadows.

Enterprise, 10:20 a.m.

"Captain, the Aschaski observer ships are moving away and returning to Noohra's orbit," Mann reported. Then she added, "Perhaps they're bored."

Pike responded with an order, "Execute pattern delta-gamma-alpha 8."

Amin scrolled through her simulation notes. "I don't see that maneuver sir."

"It's a drop-in," Una explained. "Deploy a live drone to coordinates 134.87 by 90.1 by 30.21. Launch the anti-torpedo nixies on my mark. Disengage targeting software, this one is manual. Ready photon torpedoes."

"One only Isak," Pike ordered. "Make it count."

Most of the bridge crew believed that was an instruction limiting the drill response to one torpedo. Isak knew better.

Noohra 10:20 a.m.

The hum morphed into a roar. The grey shadows drew closer. The distance between them and the children quickly decreased. One-minute Aalin was staring at the sky puzzled, the next realization and dread landed like a heavy weight.

Planes. Probably a patrol. Maybe carrying … Oh my God! Having no idea how to respond, she fell back on scenes from old movies. "Everybody! Stop! Lie on your stomach. Put your hands over your heads. Help the younger children." She sprinted up and down the rows of frightened children making sure each followed her instructions. Many were crying, several screaming because they knew too well from terrible experience what the roar of planes meant.

Knowing she had done all she could to protect them and acknowledging with frustration it was woefully inadequate, Aalin placed the babies she was carrying on the ground and curled protectively around them. The intellectual half of her brain tried to remember if the Aschaski used penetration weapons or energy weapons. As if that matters, she scolded herself.

Aalin held her breath as she waited for the piercing pain of a bullet tearing through her flesh or the incinerating heat of a laser.

Shenzhou 10:23 a.m.

"Captain!" the tactical officer shouted. "Enterprise may have a rogue torpedo. Switching to visual. See the flight arc? I think it's going to miss the target drone and exit the drill containment area armed and hot. Safeties are off and self-destruct is disabled!"

"Ready phasers. Are we in range to safely detonate it?" Michael asked.

"In one minute," Keyla answered as her fingers danced over her console.

Georgiou studied the path of the torpedo thinking, Bengsston rarely misfires, even at a rapidly moving target and the tactical software is unerringly accurate. She quickly analyzed possible trajectories and outcomes.

"When in optimum position, fire …" Michael began her order.

"Belay that," Georgiou called out. "Keep phasers charged and armed but wait for my order. Aim for coordinates 133.64 by 89.27 by 29.24 … hold … steady … steady ... Fire."

Enterprise 10:30 a.m.

"Captain, the torpedo missed the target drone and has impacted in this system's star's corona," Spock reported. "The inner planets will be effected by the plasma surge in 3.5983 minutes; Noohra's atmosphere will be impacted by the solar flares in 7.3248 minutes."

Pike turned to his communications officer, "Nicola, inform the planetary government and the Aschaski Fleet Commander. Warn them their communications and navigational equipment may rapidly become unreliable. Offer our assistance."

"Aye, sir."

"Captain, the Aschaski report flight operations are in progress across Noohra. They have ordered all weapons to stand down but cannot guide those planes back to base once the solar flares impact the atmosphere. They request air control assistance," Nicola reported.

"Amin, Nicola, you are now flight traffic controllers. Guide their pilots safely home. Call up a couple of extra resources from the hive to expedite matters," Pike responded then asked, "Spock, any additional concerns we should warn the Aschaski about?"

"Yes sir. A detailed analysis indicates the passive electrical circuits in their planes are vulnerable in these conditions. Pilots should shut down all systems except engines and the communication channel open to Enterprise."

"Relay that as well, Nicola. Stand down from the drill. Inform all parties observing of the problem and our cessation," Pike instructed. He then said with a stern expression, "Number One, Commander, with me. I'd like an explanation for what just occurred."

Once in the ready room, Pike inclined his head towards the viewport and said, "Please tell me that little stunt from the Shenzhou was prearranged with Captain Georgiou. It shaved a year off my life."

"I wish I could sir. She had to be informed via courier and … we overlooked that detail." Number One shook her head ruefully. "I'm sorry."

"Apologies are unnecessary. We all missed it." Pike turned to Isak. "Well?"

"Otherwise the plan unfolded as expected. All we can do now is wait and watch for clues the children and Aalin safely crossed the plain."

Spock joined the trio. "Scans indicate the solar flare is .4598 times more powerful than we anticipated. The first wave has knocked out communications across Noohra. Power is out in the cities; their electric grid is primitive and was impacted as well. The required repairs are straightforward and should take twelve hours. Both governments believe this was an unavoidable accident. A conclusion aided by Shenzhou's well-timed, flawlessly aimed phaser fire which increased the theatrics."

"Well done all." Pike added, "Isak, you're unerring marksman streak has ended."

"It was in good cause."

Noohra, 11:00 a.m.

Aalin lost track of how long she waited to hear the children's cries fizzle out one by one as they were wounded or killed. Tears of her own flowed.

It's quiet … can it be?

She rolled onto her back, searched the sky, and tried to reconstruct the events. When she told the children to lie down, two planes had been closing in, decreasing their altitude, and lining up for what she assumed was a strafing run. After what felt like an eternity, their engine noises grew fainter and fainter before phasing out. No visual or auditory sign of those planes or any others remained.

We have to get moving in case they come back.

"Up everyone. We're fine. They are gone." The children slowly got back to their feet, then rushed to hug her and one another. They resisted letting go.

How would Chris handle this? When unsure how to proceed, which was most of the time, her new mantra was WWCPD (what would Captain Pike do.) Assure the children the danger has passed. Get back to the task in front of them wiith resolution, purpose, and calm.

"Anaya, are they really gone?" One small child asked as she tugged on Aalin's tunic. Anaya, meaning 'one who is like us,' was the name the mountain people gifted to her.

"Yes."

An older child said, "I bet Enterprise chased them away, and that other ship, with the name like one of those dragons in your stories."

"I'm sure both Captains Pike and Georgiou are watching over you." The children knew both commanders, each had visited the orphanage. "And that must remain our secret." After receiving affirmative nods, Aalin continued in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, "Get back into your groups. Let's walk a little farther before lunch. Where were we?"

"Esro," one of the children called out.

"That's right. This old man, he played ten, he played knick-knack once again with a knick-knack paddy-wack give the dog a bone this old man comes rolling home …"

Enterprise, near midnight

Acting for the wellbeing of the children and his officer on the surface felt good. More than good, Chris thought as he sat alone in his quarters. But it can't be repeated, he reminded and warned.

No. Don't anticipate the future. Don't make assumptions. Appreciate this moment's success.

The melody of the counting song Aalin sang teaching Federation standard to the children in the Gileseian refugee camps ran through his mind. Watching her interact with those children, listening to her soft, yet clear soprano voice was a favored memory. I should look up the words.

OK. It's time to admit, at least to myself, I want more with Aalin than a friendship.

The entry of this woman into his life felt like a gift. So Christopher, will you accept this gift and its possibilities?

Shenzhou, near midnight

Phil pushed up and leaned against the dark grey upholstered headboard. Philippa, having not bothered to put on a robe – or anything, was leaning over two glasses pouring a small amount of a clear liquid into each. Her lithe body had changed little over the years and moved with the grace of a ballet dancer.

Rejoining him, she sat cross-legged on the bed and offered him one of the glasses. "It's sake, refined and elegant, unlike your cheeky whiskey."

"And much likelier to knock me on my arse after a couple of shots," Phil said after taking a sip. He sighed contentedly. "Sex really does get better with age. Should we let the others in on the secret?"

Philippa laughed merrily. "No, let them be unexpectedly and pleasantly surprised." Phil loved her laugh; it was purely happy, the laugh of one who consistently chose hope.

"That was a shrewd ploy today. Were you in on it?" she asked.

Phil shook his head. "It does have that unique Louvier-Spock-Una-Isak flare. Heaven help us if those four ever decide to take over. I was unaware before the events but pried it out of Chris afterwards. He wanted one senior officer who could deny any involvement."

She grinned playfully and reached out to trace circles over the patches of silver hair on his chest, "Today, intervening on behalf of those orphans, it feels like a victory, one to celebrate. But before you pay your poker debts, I have a question. Consider it pillow talk, so you aren't violating professional or personal ethics. Is this attraction between Chris and Lieutenant Matthews serious? Could it evolve into something more? Something permanent?"

"That was three questions, I am absolved of one poker IOU." Phil reached over and kissed her. "I think it could be; if Chris ever takes the first step that is. He's always been discrete, and at times too disciplined, with that aspect of his personal life, but after Tal … well, after a brutal mission, he's become downright reticent."

"Are the feelings mutual?"

"I don't know her well and can't answer that. During the Varian mission she worked mostly with Chris. Noohra followed on Varia's heels and Matthews was assigned to one of the field hospitals there. We've only interacted a few times in a professional capacity. Matt and Spock know her better."

The door chimed. Phillipa donned a robe and tossed one to Phil before answering, "Come."

Saru and Michael entered. He tilted his head and said in greeting, "Captain, Doctor Boyce." Michael nodded to both.

"Commanders," Phil returned the greeting. "I'll give you the room."

"No need, we have … news. You will want to hear this as well," Michael said. She continued, "With my permission Saru followed a promising lead in his efforts to passively locate and track the group of orphans being escorted to the capital city."

"Escorted? That is an odd …" Phil started.

Philippa, use to Michael's more 'Vulcan than Vulcan' talent for understatement, interjected, "Continue. And well done Saru."

"Thank you," he responded fingers nervously fidgeting at his waist, "but … the scan did not … its results were not ideal … the information I have to report is not …"

"What are you dancing around?" Philippa queried softly.

"I did not find Lieutenant Matthews and the children. Nor any evidence of their journey. If they are still alive, they are not where expected to be."

Phil and Philippa traded worried glances before she replied, "Thank you, you're dismissed. We'll speak further in the morning." She walked both officers to the door and after Saru left quietly instructed Michael, "Given the gravity of the situation, the danger to the children, and the fragility of the cease-fire, any future decisions about scanning the surface or other interventions must come from me."

Returning to Phil she said, "One day Michael will be an excellent captain, but she tends to ignore nuance and subtlety in favor of direct action. Saru will be as well, but he tends towards the opposite. When working together they are formidable. We need to tell Chris. I'll beam to Enterprise with you."

"No. It can wait until morning," Phil held out his hand and led her back to the bed. "There is nothing he can do tonight. There is nothing you or I can do tonight. Given Saru's findings, tomorrow may be tough. Tonight we all need rest."