Lorca stood in the Ready Room, absently stroking the tribble. He was coming to a decision that for the first time, in as long as he could remember, he didn't like. He knew himself, he knew his strengths and weaknesses, and was good at recognising both in others. It was this place, this universe. It was making him question everything. He didn't like it.
He placed the tribble on the table, pressed a button and watched the ball of fur dematerialise. He couldn't have his pet going after the new chief of security, revealing his secret. Klingons in this universe were the interesting ones and Lorca wanted Ash close to him.
It was Michael that was giving him this headache. She was so different and yet every time he saw her, every time he was near her... memories took over. He'd seduced her once, he could do it again. He kept telling himself that... but doubt was creeping in.
It was getting harder and harder to stay away. In this strange reality, he longed to feel like himself. Funny how Ash made him feel better, the warrior who didn't know he was a warrior, yet still behaved as one. It was nearly as strange as a human raised as a Vulcan. Lorca hit the table where his tribble had disappeared. Pain. It spread up his arm and for a second the doubts were gone. Pain, an old friend that had left scars all over his body.
Lorca used pain to focus his thoughts, focus his actions. It helped strip away all but the most important question. What was it that made him tick? Ever since he got here, it had always been Michael's face. The chance to see her again. It no longer mattered if she was the same person he once knew. She was Michael now. He still wanted to get home.