"One last look at her. . "
Lorca bolted up from bed falling to the floor, abruptly.
"Computer," Lorca said. "lights up by ten percent."
The room lightened up.
Lorca made his way over to the bathroom then turned the water on. He splashed water onto his face. He looked back at himself at the mirror. His blue eyes stared back at him. Lorca sighed, lowering his head. He came over into his office toward his main computer. It was a bulky item, a classic, that had been retrofitted and upgraded to adjust with the new technology aboard the Discovery.
"Computer, what time is it?" Lorca asked.
"Zero four hundred hours," the computer replied with a chirp.
Lorca came over to the bed where his purring Merkin laid.
"Computer, lower lights by ten percent." Lorca requested.
It was large and fat, a gift from Ephraim, yet it was so fluffy. Comforting, even. It was like a cat only without a nose, tongue, eyes, tail, or feet. And yet, he loved it with everything. It wasn't time to get up, not right now, nor apply the eye drops to his eyes. Ephraim had refused to name where he had gotten the tribble or what it was claiming Starfleet wasn't ready to know in a time of war. A name right off the bat, of the first thing he could think of, was a wig. Which is why Lorca failed to bring Merkin to sick bay for quarantine where it would stay for a month. His former second officer had done the scans, unofficially, and gave the clear. Ephraim claimed it was sterilized. Lorca gently stroked cooing Tribble placing it against his chest. Slowly, and graciously, he was lured back to sleep.
Cornwell entered Georgiou's office on a quiet morning. Georgiou was reading one of her books. Her desk was decorated with antiques such as a large piece of rock with a big hole in it making the rock seem like a doughnut with a solid, hard base. There was even a doll that Commodore Paris had given her was left on the corner. Georgiou looked up from the novel with a smile toward the older woman. She placed a bookmark into it placing the book onto the table. The blinds were put aside letting in long beams of light into the admirals office.
"Katrina, what brings you here?" Georgiou asked.
"To see how you were doing behind a desk when your former first officer is out in war," Cornwell replied.
"Not as different as being a starship captain," Georgiou said.
"It's different," Cornwell said. "war is unpredictable, war is heartbreaking, and dangerous."
"I have faith in Michael to come back," Georgiou said.
"I don't know how you can be optimistic about her," Cornwell said.
"Sometimes optimism is all we have in a time of war," Georgiou said. Then she added, "Michael seems to be happy over there. A bit unhappy with her current situation."
Cornwell had a light hearted laugh.
"So the rumors are true," Cornwell said. "she got a alien-mushroom Hemorrhoid."
"Sort of," Georgiou said. "I have been told it is working."
"Good to hear," Cornwell said, with a nod.
"I need some advice," Georgiou said. "The Enterprise wants to be part of the war."
"Chris," Katrina sighed, with a sigh. "He has gone to me, too."
"Going down to Vice Admiral?" Georgiou asked.
"Una called back," Cornwell said. "The Enterprise can't be part of it. She is a explorer not a a soldier."
"He wants to be part of the cavalary," Georgiou said.
"Terral has been drafting a reply to the captain," Cornwell said. "The others are feeling bad for him."
"Why should they?" Georgiou asked. "Terral enjoys turning down people."
"Not many admirals like to say no to a captain of the Enterprise," Cornwell said.
"Speaking of Admirals. . . I haven't seen Anderson lately," Georgiou said. "Where has he been?"
"The admirals and I tricked him to visiting Risa," Cornwell said. "He needs all the relaxation possible in this stressful time." she looked worriedly toward the aged admiral. "You haven't had some shore leave in six months."
"Shore leave is not required for a war council member," Georgiou said. "I will have leave when everyone can."
"Don't hold yourself up to those standards," Cornwell said.
"The Glenn and Discovery can have these kinds of shore leaves while the other ships in federation space can't," Georgiou said. "They can get to anywhere in a moment. Just in a snap."
"Limited snaps," Cornwell said. "Makes it harder from those Klingons finding out how we are doing it. The Discovery and the Glenn are not always going to report to Klingon attacks," the woman sighed. "We're lucky that the ones that do occurr happen near places where most federation vessels are only two to hours away."
Cornwell walked over coming to the back of Georgiou then placed her hands onto the aged admirals shoulders.
"You don't need to pamper me, Katrina," Georgiou said.
"Let me," Cornwell said. "I don't get to help a fellow admiral often, you know, being Earth bound."
A small chuckle came from Georgiou.
"You asked to be promoted to Vice Admiral after getting back from The Battle of Fey-tow," Georgiou reminded, as Cornwell's fingers rolled down her shoulders. "you would be best helping being out there."
"I am a doctor, Pippa," Cornwell said.
"Not a soldier," Georgiou added, with a new found smile on her face. "helping others is where your heart was always in."
"Watching people die around me. . . " Cornwell said. Cornwell shuddered at the image of people who she could not help. The imagery came forth into her mind. A worst case scenario. Officers littering the hall, dying, covered in their blood. Halls briefly lit by red lights through the corridors. Power struggling to stay on throughout the decks. The hanging cables, burned stations, and dying groans heard in the distance. "I hope that the war doesn't come down to Earth."
Georgiou reached out then took hold onto Cornwell's hand.
"It won't," Georgiou said, looking up toward Cornwell. Georgiou gave a gentle squeeze. "I am sure of it."
Cornwell smiled back at Georgiou as the grip slowly loosened.
"At least let me take you to a spa," Cornwell said. "Since you refuse shore leave."
That earned a laugh from Georgiou.
"I will see how I can fit that in," Georgiou said. "I will try."
"Your assistant is going to make sure you not only try," Cornwell said. "That you do it."
"My own assistant working with a vice admiral?" Georgiou said. "I did not see that coming."
"No one sees their assistants working with others for the benefit of their employers," Cornwell said, as she continued the shoulder massage. "Not even admirals."