The bridge was surprisingly quiet. End of shift was coming and after a few battle drills the crew were ready to wind down. The Captain had other ideas... but protocols had to be observed.
Lorca was good at hiding his feelings, thoughts...intentions. It was the art of misdirection where a grain of truth remained at the core of everything he said... he so wanted to get home and he so wanted Michael. He wanted this crew to help him get both.
This Michael wasn't his, yet. She'd been onboard a week and he'd prodded and pushed. He'd put her in with Tilly... it was a move he couldn't resist. Seeing them together brought back so many memories...if he squinted, which in this infernal light was hard not to... constantly.
He looked around, doing the mental calculations that kept him focused, playing a game: dead, dead, dead, alive, in agoniser, dinner. Yep, that was his Bridge crew accounted for...
'Captain, incoming call from Admiral Cornwell.'
'Transfer it to the Ready Room.' Lorca didn't need an audience for this. The Admiral knew him better than most, well, a version of him.
'What can I do for you Admiral?' He tried to smile.
'Cut the crap Gabriel,' Cornwell was actually smiling at him, in contrast to her harsh words. If this was the start of a telling off, it was going to be a strange one.
'Kat?' Lorca managed to sound genuinely confused, as with the amount of secrets he was hiding, any one could have been discovered.
Cornwall shook her head. 'You assign the only Mutineer in Starfleet history to spore drive research and you don't think you'll get a call?'
'News travels fast.' Lorca had been expecting the call...a couple of days ago. 'I can use her here, Kat.' He turned up the charm. 'Everyone deserves a second chance.'
He smiled when he heard the Admiral sigh. The woman still had feelings for him. He had no qualms about playing up to them. Always a grain of truth.