Gabriel was transferred into a familiar cell except everything was so bright that he could not see what was going on. He was in his dark armor that seemed to spell his soul out in blatant text. He slowly slid off the armor dumping it into a pile at the left hand side of the room leaving him with a glowing blue glass on his chest. He looked up hearing the sound of the doors open. He came toward the generated, blue field staring toward the blurry figure. Gabriel felt like a vampire in the unfamiliar light forcibly stranded by their enemies. The shadows were his friend and the light were his enemy. It was a curse to be so adept at seeing in the dark.

"Hello, Lorca," Paul said.

"Stamets," Gabriel said. "You understand that Starfleet needs to-"

"Starfleet doesn't actively seek and find their enemy!" Paul raised his voice. "nor do they side with the enemies and continue the war."

"Let me out," Gabriel said. "We are from the same universe."

"I . . ." Paul turned away pinching the bridge of his nose. "No," he turned toward Gabriel. "You used me to jump into your universe. Your universe!"

"Oh," Gabriel said, paling.

"You tossed me into a coma then you assigned Hugh off my case, and you tried to manipulate everyone in your desperate attempt to turn us into soldiers," Paul said. "The Starfleet I came from used to be so optimistic. . . . Somewhere along the lines, we became too comfortable in the dark."

"Your universe was never bright as you think it was," Gabriel said.

"Alright," Paul said. "I am going to make sure everyone knows what you did."

"Which was what?" Gabriel asked. "A captain in war can't be expected to retain values."

"Take that back," Paul said.

"No," Gabriel said.

"Landry did," Paul said. "She kept Starfleet values running on this ship."

"Landry's dead," Gabriel said, unable to see the head shake.

"Actually, she is alive," Paul said. "She is sick right now. And she is a good captain."

"If they knew, they would have sent me back," Gabriel said.

"That would have been for the best," Paul said.

"You would be dead if it hadn't been for me," Gabriel said.

"Paul Stamets lived until he sacrificed himself so I have to think you're wrong," Paul said, as he stepped closer to the field becoming clear to Gabriel's eyes. "I will be there at your 'classified' trial."

"They can't prosecute me when I haven't done crimes," Gabriel said.

"Keep telling yourself that," Paul said, then walked away. "Keep telling yourself that."

The doors closed behind Paul.

Lorca sat in the chair looking at the small, square screen while stroking Merkin. The words that had came from his colleague, long time friend, and occasional lover was staring back at him through the screen. The initial shock made him blink sitting there listening to the purrs of Merkin. The attacks had suddenly stopped and the rogue Klingons had strangely dispersed in all directions being chased by their counterparts that had finally arrived as back up for the fleet.

"What do you mean that I have a bad version of myself in custody?" Lorca asked.

"I am afraid it is what it is, Gabe," Cornwell said. "Can't give you the details."

"And here I thought that would be your counterpart rather than mine," Lorca said.

"Raging a war against death itself," Cornwell said. "I find that more believable than a version of myself trying to start a empire."

"You start out as a hero and live to become the villain," Lorca said. "I thought that would happen down the road."

"Me too," Cornwell said. "You still want that retirement?"

"Yes," Lorca said. "We deserve it."

"Yes," Cornwell agreed. "you all do."

"I will be sending my application to Federation council in a few hours," Lorca said.

"And Tyler is going to get more counseling," Cornwell said, almost as a question.

"He will," Lorca said. "I will make sure of it." he looked down toward Merkin then back up while gently stroking it.

"It'll be a great loss to Starfleet," Cornwell said. "But he'll be happier."

Lorca gave a weathered smile back.

"That's what I had in mind, Kat," Lorca said. "That's what I had in mind."

And that applied to everyone after the war and Burnham? Burnham knew who she was again.

The End.