"Philippa,"

Georgiou turned in the direction of the woman's voice.

"Michael," Georgiou returned with a smile. "It is good to see you again."

Burnham came over to the admiral's side.

"How has being a Admiral treated you in the recent month?" Burnham asked, leaning against the bar.

"I'll cover her tab," Georgiou told the bartender then turned her attention onto the woman. "It has been better."

A smile grew on Burnham's face.

"Tilly was wondering if you could spend the night over at our place," Burnham said, as Georgiou looked over to see the red head standing alongside the door looking as though she could squirm her way out of the bar with her sheer will. L'Rell smacked a glass on the table with a loud laugh tossing her head back. "She would like to get to know you."

"One drink," the bartender said, placing it onto the table.

Burnham took the glass then sipped from it.

"Hm," Burnham said, raising her eyebrows. "Tea."

"You are not quite forgotten at a Federation Bar," Georgiou said. "you are a very impressionable."

"Quite aware of that," Burnham lowered the glass down, then eyed the woman. "I did not expect you to be back so soon from Starbase 1."

"We were checking on the chatter," Georgiou said. "None of them were pressing. "

"That is odd," Burnham said.

"All we've heard is rogue Klingons pleading for help as they are being slaughtered by the house of Kor," Burnham nodded in understanding. "There is some underlining force. The rogue Klingons are retreating from their newfound territory and into Klingon space. We could get some Federation space back but we are inclined to give the Klingons most of it. For safe keeping." Burnham raised a eyebrow

"How many M class planets are in that 'safe keeping'?" Burnham asked.

"The planets you can't survive on without gear," Georgiou said. "Not many warp drive planets are part of it."

Burnham sipped from the tea.

"Hm, that could make it worthwhile," Burnham said.

"Klingons will love it for prison planets," Georgiou said, holding a glass up.

Burnham and Georgiou shared a toast. The scene moved from the long side of the bar to the other side. Culber was having a drink with a smile as a big toast was being shared. Paul came through the crowd with his sleeves rolled up and he seemed to be slightly disheveled. His blue jacket was unzipped partially and it seemingly lacked the Starfleet deltas, circular shoulder padds, and the Starfleet insignia making it seem to be a blue jacket. He strolled his way over toward the direction of the table. Culber's familiar figure lowering the glass onto the table.

"You have to get that out of your arm today," Paul said, as he came to the man's side.

"Why?" Culber asked.

"Don't be that way," Paul said. "You know why."

"Oooh," Culber said. "That."

"Uh huh," Paul said.

"I hardly get used at all," Culber said. "Besides, I can only be used for emergencies."

"Emergencies, emergencies, emergencies," Paul said. "Big jumps, big jumps-they're all the same." he shook his hand. "You can be used interchangeably with Ephraim to pilot the Discovery," Paul downed a drink in one sip then placed it on to the table. "and one jump to start the process of getting you out is all that can kill the mushrooms. Leaving the Discovery unable to get out of the Klingon territory fast enough or another universe." Now that part, Paul never mentioned.

Culber grew alarmed looking at the man.

"And you don't have a back up?" Culber said.

"I do, I do," Paul said. "Well . . ." he looked over toward Culber. "your Paul did." Paul's voice became soft. "Apparently, we're got a knack for keeping some in captivity," he laughed. "But, the point is I rather have you not feeling guilty about being forced out of there. You are not replaceable, Hugh. Not to me."

"Your other self replaced himself," Culber said.

"Has it not occurred to you there's a reason behind it?" Paul asked.

"Not really, when you decided to give yourself a second chance at life," Culber said. "That's the reason."

"If you hardly get used, why not take it out," Paul said. "And lie your ass off about side effects."

"That would be being dishonest," Culber said.

"You are capable of it," Paul said, raising his eyebrows. "Besides, you can always go into the private sector for medical study." Culber considered the proposal.

"PAUL, WE GOT A MUSHROOM DRINKING TRIVIA CONTEST!" came a science officer.

Paul left Culber, abruptly.

"I'll think about it," Culber said, rubbing his chin.