A/N: Anaya is pronounced: 'long a – neigh – short a.' It is the name given Aalin by the Noohrans.

Present

Day 3 Near Midnight

Enterprise Orbiting Aschask Prime

When the chime sounded Pike called, "Come." After the doors swished open; the Vulcan remained on the threshold, poised but immobile.

Approaching the entry to his quarters Pike said, "It's time Spock." He gestured at a nearby armchair. "You're ready now, despite fearing the answer."

"But how …"

"Call it Captain's intuition. And the voice of one who has walked this path. One question has haunted you since returning from Noohra without Lieutenant Matthews. It's time to ask it."

Spock took one step into the room; the doors closed. He eyed the offered chair, yet remained rooted to the floor, now looking like a deer caught in headlights. "But you have no answer for me."

Pike kept his voice calm and his expression neutral yet approachable. He too remained standing; hands clasped behind his back. "A definitive answer, no; but saying the words aloud helps."

"Will she survive?" The Vulcan spoke in a voice so quiet it felt and sounded like an apparition. The rigid tension flowed out of his body and his normally erect shoulders drooped.

"Sit," the Captain said in a tone more command than request. Spock immediately obeyed. He avoided eye contact. Pike claimed a nearby chair then continued, "We will do everything in our power for her and the children."

"And if our choices are limited?"

"We will look for other options," Pike replied with a promise.

"Her death will be my fault."

Pike shook his head. "No. If she dies, the condemnation belongs with the being who directly took her life. They made that choice."

Spock tilted his head to the left then looked at his commander. "You are, as my mother says, splitting hairs. My order put Lieutenant Matthews in harm's way."

"Not quite. And the distinctions are important. Lieutenant Matthews volunteered to stay with the orphans. You agreed to her request. You take responsibility, but not blame."

"Yet …" Spock paused. "Such logic does not make me … feel better."

"If it did, I would pull you from the command training program," Pike replied. His eyes creased slightly in a sympathetic smile. "Compartmentalization is a survival skill for a commander, but you can't shut out the repercussions of your decisions. Reaction to those consequences feeds your barometer guiding future choices. Evaluate your decision. Own your mistakes. Fix what you can. Don't punish yourself with information only available in hindsight. That paralyzes and has its own hazards. A commander rarely has the luxury of responsibility for only one soul."

They fell silent. Spock bowed his head. The silence stretched. "And if all options are exhausted? If no other recourse can be found? What then?"

"We travel in hope," Pike said firmly. He then punctuated his declaration with, "Always."

"That … is not logical sir."

"I disagree. Hope, as logic, is rooted in faith. Surak's belief in rationality saved your people and rebuilt Vulcan society. The alternative to hope, giving up, is unacceptable. And unwise."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "Vulcan's do not embrace faith. And they consider reliance on chance foolish and wasteful."

Pike asked with sincerity, "What if hope carries an energy of its own? What if it is a tangible force for good? Given those possibilities can we afford not to employ it?"

They fell silent again. If it were any other crewman sitting in his quarters carrying this burden, Pike would have offered a hot drink giving the one seeking advice an occupation for their fidgeting hands. Grounded in a Vulcan upbringing, Spock's hands remained stilled. So Pike allowed the silence space. By his internal clock, a Vulcan technique taught to him by Spock, they sat without speaking for forty-five minutes.

"This sucks," the Vulcan finally uttered.

Hearing the human slang from Spock lips caught Pike off-guard and he barely suppressed the resulting chuckle. "Lucero giving you pep talks again?"

"Yes sir. Though I am unsure whether it was meant to encourage or to scold."

This time Pike allowed his amusement free reign. His chief science officer was known for her forthright style. That amusement fizzled with Spock's next statement.

"I would trade places with Lieutenant Matthews, offer my life for hers."

"Which is laudable. Waiting, trying to assist from the sidelines can be the more onerous task."

Spock steepled his fingers against his chin then bowed his head. "Another should not perish because of my choice when I am not also facing the danger."

Pike uncrossed his legs and leaned forward. "I struggle with that as well," he said quietly.

Silence again joined the conversation. Within a few minutes Spock raised his head and straightened his shoulders. He then said, "Sir, may I update you on our study of Aschaski media?"

"Yes."

"As you already know, Aschask Prime was never rich in the natural resources typical for early industrial revolutions, such as coal, oil, natural gas, copper, tin, and various minerals. And those small reserves are nearly depleted. We have now learned their technological progress has been uneven. For example, scientists have not developed processes for simulating in a lab needed minerals, such as bauxite; yet they can travel the great distance to Noohra."

Spock continued, "In the past two decades, the peoples' access to goods has eroded, first luxuries then items deem essential. This has created social tensions and a slide politically towards authoritarianism. Last year the planet's extensive network of underwater and exposed volcanos became active resulting in tsunamis. Several large cities on the coasts, including their capital, required evacuation and have subsequently been abandoned. The people displaced have found little refuge fueling more divisions in their society. The volcanic activity has also altered climate in agricultural regions and formed large ash clouds. In addition to constricting light from this system's star, the ash is triggering health issues such as asthma and other respiratory difficulties."

"This is a war stemming from desperation rather than aggression?" Pike mused aloud.

"Perhaps. We do not have enough data for speculation much less educated guesses. Though these facts do provide reasoning for their edicts forbidding scans of Aschask Prime. Extensive surveys will likely uncover more vulnerabilities."

Pike nodded. "Noted. Well done. Setup continuous monitoring of anything we can passively intercept without active scanning, like sound and vid transmissions. Then tell the teams to get some rest, we'll review their remaining findings in the morning. When we beam down tomorrow, pay attention to the image presented by the Aschaski versus the reality you have read and seen in their media." He carefully scrutinized Spock, looking for clues of remaining angst. For the moment, the young officer's typical composed expression was back in place. "Anything else?"

"No sir. I shall see to your orders. Thank you."

ooooo

Day 4

Noohra

At daybreak, Micah gently nudged Aalin awake. Slowly, grimacing from stiff and sore muscles, she sat up and splashed water on her face from the shallow container provided, wiping away two days of grime with a rough cloth. He offered a bowl of soup made with the local staple grain akin to Earth's farro. "It's mostly water, but at least hot. Eat it all."

Aalin assessed the man sitting opposite, his legs folded and crossed as if in meditation. Micah's eyes held the far-away stare of those having seen and experienced horrors, and too much too fast. It had aged him. "Your grandfather, is he?" Aalin asked in a soft voice fearing the answer.

"Alive and well, we persuaded him to visit my sister who lives in a city on the east coast," Micah assured. He continued as she sipped the soup. "Magda and Li are feeding the children. What is your plan?"

"No time for deciding next steps since we fled back into the eastern mountains. Is there a village nearby which would shelter the children until Enterprise returns? I could hide in these caves or the forest, so my presence doesn't endanger the inhabitants."

He shook his head. "No. This area is not safe. Aschaski advance units are only two days behind you, and they can travel faster than the children."

"But …" Aalin started.

Micah interrupted with the explanation, "They are using the cease fire as cover for stealthily finishing their occupation of the Har mountains. What the villagers do not burn before abandoning their homes and fields, the Aschaski rase to the ground. Continuing south is the children's best chance for survival, and most likely your only chance. In addition to Magda and Li, I have gathered twenty-five younger children separated from caretakers as they fled their homes. Will you take them with you?"

"Of course."

"There is a young boy among them named Jacob. He … his family … he needs … will you keep him close to you?"

"Yes, I'll keep an eye on him. You should come with us as well, any member of the resistance found will be immediately executed."

If I am lucky, he thought, no need to worry her with the information extraction sessions likely to proceed my death. Micah replied, his tone a mixture of regret and weariness, "I cannot. You and the children are safer without me. I am …" He stopped. No, I cannot risk it. "Others fleeing the conflict may be lost. I will guide them back to the trails leading south."

"Is there anything I can say to change your mind?"

"No." He handed Aalin a folded paper. "A map of the mountains marked with a route eventually treacherous for an army. It will be challenging but, perhaps and hopefully, safer for you. The greatest risk is in these lower foothills; you are three days away from the steeper ascents." She studied the map while Micah continued, "I refilled all your water containers. Food will be scarce along this trail, scrounge any you can find. Magda knows which wild weeds and berries can be gathered from the land. She is seventeen, Li sixteen. Both come from large families. At least they will be some respite for you."

"Did you sleep at all last night?" Aalin queried.

"I will rest after you and the children are on your way. It is better if I travel at night. Li is from a village at the higher altitudes; their language is different. She knows a bit of the lower mountain dialects and Magda can translate basic words. This far east it is no longer possible for you to reach our capital before the cease fire officially ends. The route I mapped will take you to a coastal city. It's remains in Noohran hands and is well defended. The officials there will shelter you and help contact your ship. Take this." Micah held out a knapsack.

She peered into the bag then shook her head firmly clearly communicating adamant refusal.

"Projectile weapons may be primitive to your people, but they are effective," he prodded.

"No." Aalin returned the bag to him. "I've never fired a phaser nor a gun."

He refused to accept the bag. "You are embedded with those on the losing side in a war. Circumstances may require your life or theirs."

She placed the bag between them on the ground.

"And if an Aschaski solider threatens one of the children?" he asked, his voice edgy and harsh. His eyes narrowed and his mouth held rigid in a grim straight line.

Aalin stared at the wall on Micah's left side. "I get there may be hard choices ahead," she said in tone so quiet it was mostly whisper. Resuming eye contact and holding his gaze she continued in a steadier voice, "It's more likely a weapon in my hands would be used against the children rather than by me. We're safest when perceived as a group of women and orphans who pose no threat. Having a gun changes that." She sighed. "The children deserve a better prepared guide. I can't fix that. But I am learning it's better to use the skills I have rather than trying to mimic the training I haven't had."

"Very well. You may be right." He offered a hand which she clasped. "Stay hidden and do not take unnecessary risks.

Aalin's head dipped momentarily, bowing with eyes closed. Her brow creased slightly; she reluctantly accepted their paths were unlikely to cross again. "I …"

"The ancients may yet grant us another opportunity for friendship; and I welcome that day. There are final preparations to see to while you finish getting ready." Micah stood and left.

When Magda entered a few moments later, Aalin quickly wiped her moist eyes.

The young woman sat back on her knees. "Anaya."

Aalin looked up. "Have we met?"

"No, but you are known to my village and in others." Magda held out several pieces of sturdy cloth. "We can use these to cover your feet. Grandmother taught me how to make farm hand's shoes."

ooooo

Once outside the cave, Micah leaned against its wall and watched the children finish their breakfast. He wanted to reverse time back to life without invaders and bombs, without death and ruin, without wrenching and nearly impossible choices.

How long before my conscience succumbs to the thousands of cuts I have inflicted?

I should tell her they will be hunted if the Aschaski believe or learn the boy is with the group of orphans. The warning may save lives.

No. You must not risk the information getting into the enemy's hands. It is too important; it is key to ending the war. If Aalin is captured, they will extract everything she knows using any means necessary. Getting Jacob to safety is more important than her survival.

And she is the best hope of getting the boy to those with the power and means to stop this crime.

Reaffirming his singular option offered no relief. Micah internally railed against the ancients, Why, why me? This responsibility should rest with another. One wiser. A true leader. Why entrust these choices with a craftsman of humble means and background?

A passage from an Earth book gifted from Isak, Enterprise's security chief, echoed in response to Micah's angry outburst. The trilogy had been a companion for him through long, solitary nights. As it had been for Isak during difficult missions in his own career. "I wish it need not have happened in my time," said Frodo. "So do I," said Gandalf, "and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."

It is time.

Micah searched for Jacob among the groups of playing children. Finding the seven-year-old, he beckoned and led him out of hearing range of the others. Kneeling so they were eye to eye, Micah gave a reassuring smile. "You've heard about Anaya from the others."

"Want to stay with you," the child insisted.

"She will take care of you. You are safer with her," Micah said as he put a comforting hand on the boy's arm."

"But Lixen is staying with you," Jacob protested.

"Lixen is from the north villages. I am taking him home." Micah then prayed; And may the ancients forgive me for using another child as a decoy. He continued with an enticement, "Anaya tells stories about dragons and knights and pirates."

Jacob eyes widen a bit. His enthusiasm notched up.

"Ok then. Go with Anaya. Remember her stories so you can tell me." Micah placed a hand on each of the boy's shoulders and looked directly into his eyes, commanding the child's attention. In a matter-of-fact tone of voice Micah warned, "This is important. If the bad soldiers come, run. Do not wait for the other children. Go south. Find someone from the sky." Then he reassured, "Try not to be scared, you can do this."

Jacob nodded but his body trembled.

Micah hugged him fiercely then whispered in his ear, "Tell your secret only to Captains Pike or Georgiou. No one else. Not even Anaya. This is important. Promise me."

"I promise," was the faint reply in a voice quavering with unshed tears.