Chapter 3 - Lorca Maneuver

Bex attempts to survive her first day aboard the Discovery and learns about its experimental Spore Drive.

NOTE: This is sort of a "Meanwhile..." kind of story. There are some timeline changes from the original show, specifically concerning Commander Landry.

*SPOILERS* I know it's a big NO NO to change canon storylines, but Landry getting killed for trying to cut off the Ripper's claw was really stupid. (She knew he was indestructible, so what the hell was she trying to do?) In this story, the creature attacks for a different reason. *END SPOILERS*

Also, I totally stole the name "Lorca Maneuver" from the Geek Breakdown, Lore Reloaded on YouTube.

TIME: The following happens during the episode The Butcher Knife Cares not for the Lamb's Cry.

My characters...

Samantha Bex: 29, born in the year 1988, abducted in 2017 and displaced two and half centuries later on Donatu V. How she got there and how she managed to survive this Klingon infested planet is unknown.

Detective Kuade: 40ish, not his real name, Agent for the Department of Temporal Investigations. Has questionable motives and a bizarre fascination with Sam Bex. Claims he is assisting in her relocation to the 23rd century.

Charles Beauregard IV: 36, son of several decorated Captains, a drunk. He's a major frustration within Starfleet and struggles to follow regulation and protocol. Gloryhound with a death wish who knows Gabriel Lorca.

Loralee Roh: 22, Betazoid, ex-heiress to a powerful family. Living secluded in high society has atrophied her telepathic and empathic powers. She joined Starfleet in order to expand her worldview but finds it overwhelming.

SHHHHIIIK!

The electric sliding doors open.

"Your sleeping quarters," Commander Landry escorts Bex into a 50 square foot dorm room, "Don't trash it like you did the Marquis. The cafeteria is down the hall, to the right," and she promptly leaves.

Bex stands alone in the biggest bedroom since her abduction. Two proper twin sized lay a few feet apart, one already claimed by a crewman's tool belt, the untouched for days. The completely bare room gives the time traveler the opposite feeling of claustrophobia; loneliness and alienation-a sensation absent from the Marquis. The walls shine with polished metal as do the floors, and end tables, headboards, and desks. It all feels sterile.

The lonely time traveler drops on the free bed her belongings; a Klingon mask, which is actually just a heads-up display, some blackened robes and her most valuable possession, a white smartphone. This little time capsule survived in her back pocket for the past few years but remains switched off with a dead battery. It is the only thing she has left from her own time period, besides a few faded memories.

She hides the phone and mask in her bundle of robes and stores it under the bed. She then sits on the mattress and waits. What else she can do with her access to the ship limited to just her room and the cafe. She waits to hear from Loralee, but with a ship so big and filled with so many other minds, that the young Betazoid probably continues to feel overwhelmed. The Captain means to keep Bex separated from the rest of the Marquida. Why Lorca chose her over Charlie can simply be his attempt at throwing off their plans to steal back the Marquis.

But it won't work, Bex thinks confidently and lays back to sleep.

After a long nap to allow her bruises heal, Bex wanders the few dormitory halls available to her. She makes several slow laps to pick up on the various conversations of the crew.

"So we're allowing criminals onboard the Discovery now..." she hears an angry Farian whisper to his colleague.

"Starfleet traitor. I heard she's part Klingon," an Andorian hisses.

"What is she doing walking around? She's making me uncomfortable."

"Better her than Michael."

"Michael?"

"Yeah, Michael Burnham."

"The Michael Burnham?"

"Yep. On our ship. I can't believe what Lorca is doing. First a defector and now a mutineer!"

Hmm.. what's the difference between a defector and a mutineer? Bex questions as she makes her 70th lap around the dormitories. She would very much like to meet this Michael fellow and decides to take and visit the mess hall. Several cafeterias exist on the ship with the one for the dorms being the smallest. Small, white round tables spread evenly on the tile next to a wall of food replicators that look like oversized microwave ovens.

"Please make your selection," the replicator requests.

"Uh, double bacon cheeseburger with all the fixings," Bex orders.

The replicator vibrates away creating her meal out of pure energy, "Your meal is not very nutritious," the replicator scolds.

Bex slides open the door and is greeted by that all familiar electrical smell of replicated food. The one luxury she misses about being 'primitive' is that she once dined on real food.

She turns to find a seat and her ears pick up more conversations.

"Ugh. This cafe suddenly got a bit too crowded," a table of crewmen scour at her and leave.

"Charlie's whore," she hears another voice say.

It's like I'm back in high school, Bex frowns, I was hoping the future was above bullying. She eyes an empty table in the back corner, but when she approaches, she enters into a standoff between a very stern looking woman in an ugly yellow jumpsuit.

Bex recognizes the woman's black Starfleet badge, "Mutineer?" she asks surprised by Michael's gender.

Burnham just eyes her up and down taking note of the blackened and torn cadet's uniform, "Defector?"

Lunch buddies!

The two black sheep sit across from each other in awkward, but blissful silence. Burnham eats from a selection the replicator would approve of; a stir fry veggie rice bowl. She eats her meal slowly, back stiff, jaw tight as if she's being judged by a panel of etiquette police. Her posture makes Bex, who sloppily devours her burger, feel ill-mannered. They make eye contact every now and again during their meal, but no judgment is passed between them.

Bex reminiscences of her first meal aboard the Marquis.

"I have located and disconnected all trackers rigged aboard the ship. We are officially severed from Star Command!" Kuade steps smugly into the Observation Deck on the port side of the Marquis. The rest of the crew "Whoo!" and clap at his accomplishment. The small and skinny Observation Deck lines the outer edge of the scout ship. The entire deck measures a mere 10 feet long and 3 feet in width and comes with pull-down seats that face a set of large windows. The chairs have table trays that fold out so that the crew can eat while watching the stars.

Kuade takes a seat on the end next to Roh who sits to the left of Charlie and Bex, "What's on the menu?" he asks rubbing his palms together.

"Uttaberry Souffle!" Roh chimes happily, "A delicacy from my homeworld and my great-grandmother's recipe."

"Oh! Ms. Roh! I didn't know you could cook," Kuade compliments.

"It's just a formula I entered into the replicator. No need to act so impressed," she dismisses and the two begin to muse with one another. Charlie wolfs down his souffle, paying no mind to its fluffy delicacy. He notices that Bex has hardly touched hers. She sits distracted with her attention caught by the purple-pink swell of clouds outside the hull windows.

"The Paulsen Nebula," Charlie interrupts her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Paulsen Nebula. I figured it'd be a good spot to enjoy our first meal together as a team. Have you ever seen a nebula before?"

"In person? No..." she smiles sweetly at the window as purple and pink lights refract off the ship's metal, "It's beautiful."

Charlie smiles, "It's not too bad lookin', but it's one of many," he stabs at his souffle, "I've seen dark matter nebulas, micro-nebulas, stellar nurseries, binary star systems, trinary systems. I've been on a planet made of diamonds, a planet with 150 moons. What you see here is small potatoes compared to what's really out there."

"I wish could see it all..."

"Who says you can't?" Charlie puts down his spoon.

"We can't run from Starfleet forever."

"Maybe not, but we can make it a good chase for 'em."

"Take the scenic route?"

"Exactly," he smiles, "Wherever you wanna go. Whatever you wanna see. I'll take you there."

"That's a tall order, Captain," Bex warns.

"It's also what he promised me," Roh speaks up and teases.

"And I'm still delivering on that promise! I'm more than capable of chaperoning the both of you."

"Well, what if I want to go somewhere special," Kuade pretend pouts.

"Then we'll add that pin to our roadmap," Charlie answers, "We can see it all! Do it all! We're free!"

Bex's eyes refocus from her thoughts to her mess of a meal, but her appetite disappears into the cosmos, as does her mood. How different this maiden meal feels from the Marquis. No excitement, no techno-color stellar show. Just the cold, persistent sense of isolation.

"Hhhuh!" she gasps at a familiar tingle in her brain.

Burnham looks up from her meal, "What's wrong?"

Bex doesn't answer but darts her eyes to the various hull windows.

"Shuttle for prison colony cleared for warp," informs the intercom. A small prison shuttle launches from the Discovery. Roh bids a telepathic goodbye from inside the shuttle as it escorts the Marquida into the blackness of space.

Burnham looks over out the hull window and a small frown crosses her tight face. She cares not for who's onboard that shuttle but feels upset nonetheless. She pulls her eyes away and quietly returns to her meal, but cannot enjoy due to Bex's heavy breathing.

The lone Marquida's begins to stress out about her unfavorable situation. She refuses to acknowledge her co-dependence on her friends, but this mission will be hell without their support.

BANG!

Kuade slams down his tray of several portions of replicated meats and fruit. His rudeness distributes Burnham. His still being on the ship and wearing an Operations Uniform disturbs Bex. The oblivious buffoon looks up at his First Officer with a mouthful of some fruit she's never seen before. He frowns at her clothes, "Did you not get a uniform?"

"What the hell!" Bex shoves Kuade into her empty dorm room, "What are you doing here!?"

The detective flinches at her words and smooths out his wrinkles she made in his uniform, "I was offered a position," he states matter-of-factly.

"What position?"

"Lieutenant of Operations," he motions to his uniform, "See the bronze?"

"You're supposed to be on the prison shuttle with Charlie and Loree! You're supposed to be helping them escape!"

"Oh, they don't need my help. I'd just be in the way," Kuade dismisses, not taking Bex's rant seriously, "Besides, I thought you'd be happy about this arrangement."

"Happy?"

"You were the one that opposed Charlie staying on the Discovery. You're the reason our strategy meeting ran all night long!" Kuade raises his voice.

Bex huffs, "I distinctly remember all of us agreeing that only one Marquida was to stay behind."

"Yes, and it just so happens that the Captain chose you to be that sacrificial lamb, hence why I'm here. I couldn't very well leave you behind on such a dangerous ship. Think of the incident report I'd have to fill out!"

"I can handle myself, Kuade."

"You say that, but your luck is going to run out one day, Sam!"

"I got out of the brig just fine," she smiles with her arms wide.

"Yes, how did you manage that? Did you seduce another Captain?" he accuses and flinches as he's shoved hard again.

Bex paces defeated, rubbing her face and eyes, "This will be the death of the Marquida..."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," Kuade fixes his hair he now styles in a fluffy pompadour, "Charlie and Loree are more than capable of making an escape on their own. Loree can... distract the pilots with her telepathy and Charlie can... punch them in the face. I dunno! I am far more useful here on the Discovery assisting you."

"How did you even get a position here? And in Operations no less?"

"I'm a persuasive man, Samantha Bex and a master of disguises," he says smugly, "While the Captain had us emptying out the Marquis, I found a control panel and..." he makes a hand gesture as if typing on a keyboard, "Added myself to the roster."

"As 'Detective Kuade'?"

"No, as Friday. Joseph Friday," he says standing tall with a big grin, but Bex just gives him a pained expression.

"Dragnet! Detective Sergeant Joe Friday?" Kuade is in disbelief that she doesn't recognize the name, "Successful radio and television show during the 1950s? Adapted in 1987 into a comedy film starring Dan Aykroyd? Considered to be the most influence cop drama in all of television history?" not ringing a bell with Bex. He heaves a heavy sigh, "You uncultured swine."

"I don't see how reliving your PI fantasies is going to help me," she cocks an eyebrow.

"As Operations, I can move about the ship more freely than you. I have access to almost every deck, every console. Thus, while I may not have a mean right hook, I do have a mean left hemisphere and can help you secure the Marquis from the inside. It's a much better plan than what Charlie kept insisting on."

"Yeah, but why did it have to be you..." Bex says under her breath as she rubs her forehead in pain.

"Hn?" he didn't quite catch that.

"You're exhausting."

Kuade makes a phone gesture with his fingers, "Uhh... hello kettle, this is pot," he mocks.

"Funny," she says dully and plops down on her bed.

"Well, I don't see you offering up any suggestions on how we're going to pull this heist off. At least I have a job."

"I have a job."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Intel."

"Ha! Intel for what exactly? How to improperly use a tricorder?"

"Klingons," she answers with a bite.

Kuade's eyes go big, "Oh, that's good. That's really good," he sits on the other bed across from her, wheels turning in his mind, "I take it back, Sam. You are useful."

Bex rolls her eyes and lays back on her pillow, "Yeah, it wasn't my idea...".

"No?"

"It was the Captain's."

"Oh? Oh... that's not good. Seems like he's already a few steps ahead of us. I hate to admit it, but he's going to be the biggest obstacle in our re-hijacking."

"Is he that much of a concern?"

"Lorca is a militaristic genius and probably the most decorated Captain in all of Starfleet right now. He's not commanding the Discovery for his good looks. He will be our biggest adversary, yet."

"Wonderful," Bex replies sarcastically, "You've instilled so much confidence in me."

"It's not impossible," Kuade gets up and paces around the room, "There is a chance we can still save the Marquida... A small chance... like 0.0003% chance, but this will be the mission to end all missions. I'm talking full mental warfare. Collusion. Seduction. We're here for the long haul, Sam."

"And your plan is...?"

"Eh... I still need to come up with something, but when I have it, you need to take my lead. I'm Captain and you're First Officer."

Bex sits up, "No way."

"Why not? I'm older."

"What are you, like 40? I was born 200 years before you."

"That doesn't count. I'm a federal agent!"

"Oh. You're still on the payroll?"

"...No," Kuade huffs in defeat, "My probationary period at the Department of Temporal Investigations is well revoked by this point, but I'm still dedicated to the project," he gestures to Bex.

"That project being... me?"

"Yes," he answers with a genuine smile.

"How dutiful of you," Kuade still makes her a little nervous at times.

"TWEET-TI-TEET! Lieutenant Friday to the bridge," Kuade's communicator chimes in, "We have a broken panel light out down in Engineering. Can you take a look at it."

"Ohhh!" he says excitedly picking up his toolbelt off the opposing mattress, "Excuse me. I have a light bulb to change," he grins jokingly and makes Bex chuckle a little.

"Have fun with that, Janitor Friday," she teases.

"Trust me..." he pleads and exits the room, "We can pull this off."

Bex takes a deep breath, still not convinced of anything, but takes comfort in Kuade's savviness to assign himself as her roommate. He may annoy her to no end, but sharing a room with a stink-eyed, gossiping Starfleet lackey sounds less appealing.

SHHHHIIIK!

Commander Landry enters the room, although her focus remains on the exiting Kuade quickly traipsing down the hall, "Who was that?" she asks.

Bex stands, "I didn't see anyone."

Landry frowns, "Let's go. Can't stand you in these halls any longer."

The doors to the Engineering Test Bay Alpha opens and Kuade mozzies his way in with his belt of tools strapped loosely to his waist. A large glass chamber sits in the middle of the meticulously disinfected room. Computer stations line the walls and an upper-level observation deck reflects the burning red lights of the ship's engines.

"Who are you?" asks a rather offended looking white haired human. "Operations," Kuade answers with a grin as he bounces down the steps from the doorway, "Lieutenant Friday. You have a glitchy panel projection?" Kuade cranes his neck this way and that to get a good look around the room. The white haired man tilts his head in annoyance at this.

"Oh, right. I'm Lieutenant Paul Stamets, that's Cadet Sylvia Tilly," he waves to a cute redhead across the room, "The panel is over there."

"Great!" Kuade says with pep in his voice, "Excuse me, Ms. Tilly was it?" he greets with charm, offering a hand to shake.

"Oh yes. Thank you. It's been flickering all day," she blushes.

"Not to worry. An easy fix!" Kuade winks and bends down on the backside of her desk, pulling off the back panel to expose a nest of white wires. As he works, he sneaks glances around the room, dedicating the layout to memory. He makes note of a second door leading to some kind of sterilization room which stays secured behind a breath analyzation panel. Interesting. In the center of the room stands Lieutenant Stamets' desk which doubles as a central hub. The wall behind this hub houses several rows of containment canisters.

"Excuse me," Stamets watches Kuade try to be sneaky, "What are you doing?" he says with a condescending smile.

"Repairing your hologram light?"

"And who you are again? I've never seen you before," he snaps paranoid.

"Uh, just promoted. Friday," Kuade reintroduces and turns back to his work. Stamets narrows his eyes and then shakes his head of the distraction.

Kuade looks over his shoulder a bit more subtle and monitors the Lieutenant's work. Confident of Stamets distraction, the sleuth digs into his utility belt, pulls out a small black breaker and plugs it into one of the desk sockets. He double checks to make sure no one actually saw him do that. The girls type away on their projections and Stamets runs calculations. The Detective pulls back his sleeve and clicks a button on his antique watch. A light on the breaker blinks green. He then covers his watch with his sleeve again and locates the busted laser light.

"Captain, be advised, the spore drive is online and primed," Stamets addresses the bridge.

"Primed? Can you control where we're going or not?" Lorca complains over the comm.

"It's possible, maybe even likely, but-"

"Done," the Captain then address the rest of the ship, "Attention all personnel. Stealth protocol. Run silent. Black alert."

WRAAAANG! BLACK ALERT! WRAAANG! BLACK ALERT!

An alarm blares and the lights along the walls of the ship turn blue.

"All crew to battle stations. Be ready for whatever's on the other side of that jump," Lorca instructs over the comm again

"Loading spores into the drive," Stamets informs the Captain. Kuade watches the Lieutenant twist and pulls out a canister from the back wall. Millions of what look like bright blue fireflies storm inside the glass cylinder while it slides and locks into place in the central hub. The large glass chamber at the front of the engineering room fills up with these fireflies. Kuade watches, mouth agape, as they flutter down and fill the chamber.

"Spore drive is online," Stamets announces and flips a few switches on his hub, "Plot destination to Corvan 2."

And then Kuade feels his stomach lurch up into his brains as the ship Jumps 100 hours across the galaxy in a second.

Bex makes laps around cargo, checking a PADD for numbers, opening crates to count stock, and making notes of any discrepancies. Landry assigned the Starfleet dropout the only job she's qualified for; warehouse management, or more specifically, double checking the computer's count on the number of supplies the ship carries. It's insulting work, but Bex doesn't complain. The Marquis rests in the shuttle bay which conveniently shares a space with the cargo bay, making espionage quite simple for the Marquida. A contracted team of six mechanics attempt to repair the vessel before Lorca returns it back to Starfleet Command. Bex also finds it pretty relaxing inside steerage; the only sound being the flames from blowtorches and hammers banging away on the scout ship. The mechanics don't give her a hard time either, so she can go about her espionage in peace.

GRRROOOOAAHHH...

The walls and windows of the cargo bay begin to groan, but no one seems to take notice. Bex strides her way across the glossy floors of the large two-story warehouse. She then sort of lumbers a bit when her knees suddenly give out and her brain does a summersault.

"What the?!" one of the mechanics screams as orange light fills the bay with blinding radiating heat. The entire ship begins to capsize towards this light and Bex loses her footing and slides on her rear towards the hull wall. She drops her PADD and her feet collide hard on the window.

"Oh, my gah-" a star! The ship unexpectedly finds itself caught in the gravity well of an O-class star. The hot light burns Bex's corneas along with the soles of her feet.

"GAAAAK!" a small mechanic loses his footing and slams back first against the window.

"Look out!" calls another workman when tools and loose crates begin to slide and slam against the windows. Bex pushes a few of the lighter boxes away, but a rather large crate trucks its way down straight at the now unconscious worker.

The ship turns away from the star, causing everything to tilt the opposite direction, but the massive crate continues to plow forward. Bex falls to the floor and recovers to help two of the mechanics attempt to slow the crate's trajectory. They push and pull as hard as they can while their feet squeak against the slick floor. With incredible effort, they manage to slow the crate to a stop before it crushes their colleague. The ship warps out from the star's gravitational pull and silence returns back to the bay.

Bex helps brace the injured mechanic, Howard, up to the Sickbay. This room comes equipped with the brightest, whitest lights. Quite the contrast to the rest of the darkened ship. Howard hobbles up onto an empty medical bed and winces when he lies on his back.

Seems like he's not the only one who got hurt during our little close-up stargazing adventure, Bex looks over her shoulder and sees a white haired Science Officer get the bones in his nose realigned with what looks like a laser pointer.

"Who's the doctor here?" she asks.

"I am," answers a young man with brown skin and teeth just as white as the lights, "I'm Dr. Culber. I'll be with you in just a moment," he replies with a sweet voice.

Captain Lorca enters, with a gait that suggests impatience, "How's the patient, Dr. Culber?"

"Well, I took care of the skull fractures first. Another millimeter, the palatine bone would've pierced his cortex," the doctor informs.

"The frontal lobe is overrated," the patient dismisses, "It only contains memory and emotional expression. It's completely unnecessary."

"Well, I'll save it. Just in case you might wanna have a feeling one day," the doctor retorts.

"Ugg... My head..." Howard pulls at Bex's sleeve, "Ice pack," he requests and points to a shelf across the room. She goes to retrieve one doing her best to not look interested in the Captain's conversation. She opens the ice shelf slowly to not make too much noise.

"...Discovery is no longer a science vessel," Lorca says rather blunt, "It's a warship."
"That is not the mission I signed on for. I'm not a soldier."

"Well, then get off. Leave the ship."

"If I go, I'm taking everything with me. My spores, my drive. This entire ship was designed around my scientific specialty," the white haired man bites down on his words, trying to maintain his composure.
"Everything on this ship is the property of Starfleet, Lieutenant," Lorca goes in for the kill, "How do you wanna be remembered in history? Alongside the Wright Brothers, Elon Musk, Zefram Cochrane? Or as a failed fungus expert? A selfish little man who put the survival of his own ego before the lives of others."

Ouch... Bex returns back with an ice pack.

The white haired man breathes in sharply, "Are you done?" he asks the doctor but stands to leave before he gets an answer.

"You still have blood on your face..."

"And your hands, Lieutenant," Lorca raises his voice, "Get back to work. Fix the problem!"

The Lieutenant exits and Lorca nods to the doctor before departing himself.

Bex thinks a moment, "Spores?" she asks Howard.

He looks up at her sympathetically while she holds the icepack to his head. She seems like a nice enough person to the young man, but a criminal's a criminal in his mind, "It's probably best if you didn't know."

Attempting to retrace her steps back down to steerage, Bex leaves the Medical Bay to return to her thrilling warehouse work. Along the route, she spots her partner in crime making his own rounds.

"Kuade! I mean.. Lieutenant Friday," she runs up to him.

"Ah, yes. The deserter. How may I assist you today?" he fake smiles.

"Have you come up with a plan, yet?" she asks in a quieter voice.

"Unfortunately, no. I've come across a rather big roadblock," he responds hushed as they walk side by side down the hall, "This ship is far more advanced than first feared. We just managed to jump across an entire sector of the Beta Quadrant in less than five seconds."

"Oh. That's what that was."

"The ship is currently, attempting, to get to Corvan 2."

"Is that a planet?"

"Yes. Starfleet's dilithium mines. They're under Klingon attack."

Bex shakes her head in disappointment, "Almost forgot we are dragged into that dogfight."

"The Discovery is the only ship capable of reaching Corvan 2 in time. Or... it should be. The engineering team still hasn't perfected their experimental Spore Drive."

"Spore Drive? Like... mushrooms?"

"Yes. It seems they cannot control the end circuit destination when attempting long jumps. Essentially, flying blind. Lieutenant Stamets is close to completing his work, however, and that could really put a damper on our mission. I need to investigate this drive to determine how much of a problem it really poses for us."

"A teleporting battleship would put us in quite the pickle."

"Exactly."

"And the longer we stay aboard the Discovery, the closer the Spore Drive will be to perfection."

"Correct."

"So sabotage it."

Kuade shushes her, "Uh... erh! That's not a good idea!" he hisses and pulls her to the side of the hall, "Starfleet is already tampering with forces better left alone. We're riding on a ticking time bomb here. Listen," he quickly checks his watch, "I'm going back down to Engineering to gather more clues about the drive. Not to break the thing, but to study it."

Bex bites her lip, "Fine. We have time before the Marquis's repaired. I'll keep an eye on our ship to ensure Lorca doesn't try to install any unnecessary upgrades. You continue your recognizance of this drive and report back to me."

"Sure-wait. I thought we agreed I was the Captain."

"No. I'm Captain-"

"I'm Captain."

A furry Caitian strolls by the arguing pair and gives them a wild look.

"Yeah, uh.." Bex facades, "So, fix that comm system in the cargo bay before you get someone killed."

"Uhhh, yes!" plays along, "Of course. I'll get right on it-"

"Broadcasting ship-wide," the Captain's voice cuts in over the comm system, "Computer, play the audio transmissions from Corvan 2," followed by the sounds of bombs and people screaming.

"Boooomm... this is my... zzzz.. last message," comes a man's voice, "Another round of bombs just struck.. tssss."

"Zaphod's dead!" screams another voice, "Our bunker is collapsing!"

"Mommy, mommy wake up!" cries a little girl, "Wake up!"

"Please...zzzt.. Save my children," a woman pleads.

The recording continues to play in every corner of the ship for several more minutes, despite the crew's wishes for it to stop.

"Anyone! Zzzzts... Help them!"

"Heelllp! BOOOOM!"

"What is this?" Bex asks uneasily.

"Lorca Maneuver," Kuade frowns, "We're on a battleship full of scientists. The Captain means to inspire his crew..." he looks down at his shaken ward and gives her a worried look, "I warned you, Sam. Full mental warfare."

About an hour after that horrific transmission, Commander Landry, with a freshly healed cut above her lip, escorts Bex down an upper deck hall. The Captain requested her to meet him in his menagerie located in a small research room filled with his treasures; specimen collections, deadly alien weapons, a Gorn skeleton and the latest in biological and autopsy equipment.

"Enter," Lorca stands with Burnham inspecting something on an examination table. The mutineer now wears a Starfleet Science uniform, but with no rank or badge. Bex also notices the wreckage around the room. A shattered glass table and the several fragile specimens lie in pieces. On the floor rests a Klingon disruptor rifle next to several deep claw marks and blood. To the left of this stands a darkened corridor protected by a forcefield and Bex swears she can hear something breathing.

"Ah, good!" Lorca catches her attention, "Our Klingon Intel. Come take a look at this."

She walks over to the examination table and sees laying on it a very small knife about five inches long with a split curved tip. The split blade bends harshly at an irregular angle as if smashed against a rock.

"Haven't issued any laboratory testing yet. I wanted to get your opinion first. Is it Klingon?" the Captain asks.

Of course, it's Klingon, Bex thinks to herself, he's testing me.

"Yes, it's Klingon," she answers frowning her eyebrows, "How did it get on the ship?"

"We found it wedged in the shell of some... precious cargo we liberated off the USS Glenn," the Captain explains causing Landry and Burnham to shift a bit.

"Mm-hm," Bex detects a fib but does not press for more information. Instead, she notices a rather nice looking bat-leth hanging on the wall.

"The blade is quite heavy, and looks to be made from some kind of tritanium material," Burnham begins her own analysis, "If I had to guess, I would say that this blade is most likely part of a much larger weapon. Perhaps a piece of it broke off when the Klingon used it against our... cargo."

"It remained lodged in our cargo when we brought it aboard the ship and... set it off," Landry replies dryly.

"It's a naH-taj," Bex corrects and pulls her attention away from the wall of Klingon weapons. She darts her eyes between Burnham and Landry, "A fruit knife."

"A fruit knife?" Landry questions.

"It's made of the same material as the hull of this ship," Burnham points out.

"Yes well, it's customary for Klingon assassins to use smaller blades. Easier to hide. Over time, they began to reinforce their silverware, should the opportune moment of execution happen over dinner," the crew remain unconvinced. Bex continues, "Most of the Klingons I've dealt with carry at least two eating utensils on their person at all times should an opportunity arise. I'm assuming one did when a Klingon happened upon your... precious cargo. Thus..." she gestures to the room, "...leading to all this. What happened in here anyway?"

"Need to know," Landry answers coldly.

The Captain relaxes his brows and nods satisfied with the evaluation. Bex takes this as her sign to turn around and leave.

"You weren't dismissed," Lorca says without looking up.

She stops, "I'm not a Starfleet Officer."

"You're still aboard a Starship. You will still follow protocol," Landry reiterates for the Captain.

Bex takes a deep breath and turns to face them. Lorca and Landry stare daggers at her while Burnham looks away politely. A very long and tension filled minute goes by while Lorca and Landry force Bex to stand awkwardly in the center of the destroyed room. Burnham glances over at the Captain with clear discomfort in her eyes.

"Dismissed!" he finally directs and Bex swiftly turns out of the room.

"Starfleet flunky..." Landry says under her breath, but still loud enough for everyone to hear.

Bex glowers and looks over her shoulder just as the Chief of Security picks up the fruit knife to smell the blade, "Whoa, whoa!" Bex charges back into the room with her hand out.

"You are dismissed!" Lorca shouts.

"What are you doing?" Bex ignores him and addresses the Commander, "That thing is contaminated with arsenic."
"What," Landry drops the knife.

"Fruit on Qo'nos has lethal levels of arsenic and arsine gases. Klingon physiology evolved not only to be able to process these toxins but to thrive on them. Less than two grams can kill a human."

Landry stands stunned.

"Back to Sickbay!" Lorca demands and the stern woman reluctantly heads back to the upper deck once more.

Kuade stands outside the Engineering Test Bay pretending to fix a hallway light with a blowtorch. He lifts his mask to check his 3 and 9 to find the coast clear and clicks a button on his antique watch.

"TWEET-TI-TEET! Lieutenant Friday to Engineering Test Bay," his communicator requests after a few minutes, "That projection is flickering again."

Kuade grins.

SSSHHHIK!

He enters the room only seconds later.

"That was quick," Stamets points out.

"I was in the neighborhood."

The projection panel Kuade 'fixed' flickers on and off violently despite not being in use.

"I dunno what you did, but you made it worse," Stamets accuses. He turns to Burnham as the two stand in front of the secured passageway to the cultivation room, "Come on... Let's go."

Kuade notices that the Lieutenant's phaser is drawn.

"The phaser will only piss him off," Burnham warns.

"Think of it as a placebo for my skepticism," he smiles sorely and the two enter the decontamination chamber, before disappearing further into the reaches of the room that follows.

"Interesting..." Kuade investigates the now empty Test Bay area. He finds nothing by the secure doorway, of course, but he does find an empty spore canister on Stamets' hub. He picks it up and smells the opening. He slips his finger around the lip of the canister and scrubs up a few leftover blue spores. He rubs these between his index and thumb, looking closely at how they pulsate with energy, and then he eats them.

Bex returns to the cargo bay and waves a friendly hello to the Marquis mechanic crew who kindly greet back.

"Night!"

It's late, the equivalent of 11:00 San Francisco time, so the men call it a day. She stays behind and double checks all the locking mechanisms along the storage wall as well as pick up any loose tools off the floor. She crosses over to the shuttle bay to get a better look at the Marquis. Security cameras line the walls, so she dares not to enter the ship, but instead, slides her hand across its smooth hull. Bex was never a car or motorcycle enthusiast back on Earth, but spaceships make an exception. After only a day or two of repairs, the shuttle already looks 100% better, but more needs to be done.

The Test Bay fills with officers scurrying back to their posts as Kuade continues to pretend to fix the panel he intentionally broke. Burnham joins the team along with a new gadget labeled 'USS Glen' with white tubing. Inside the main spore chamber stands a four-armed probing gizmo connected to this new tubing.

"Engineering Team," Stamets addresses as he readies the main hub, "Prepare for jump."

WRAAAANG! BLACK ALERT! WRAAANG! BLACK ALERT!

"Mr. Stamets," the Captain greets over the comm, "Are you ready?"

The alarms go off again and Stamets readies another canister of spores, "Stand by, Captain," the Lieutenant requests and then looks up to the main glass chamber and taps in coordinates into his screen, "Energize!"

A large, monstrous, eight armed creature beams into the spore chamber. The horrific looking monstrosity snarls covered spikes along its thick outer shell and eyeless face. It drools from a sucker-like mouth and slashes at the carbon fiberglass chamber with its ten inch long claws. Blue spores release from the ceiling of the chamber and flutter around it's body like dust caught in a static pull.

Most of the crew step back in fear of the creature, but Kuade draws to it like a moth to a flame, "Now there's someone I haven't seen in a long time..."

"We just transported the Tardigrade into the reaction cube," Stamets informs the Captain, "The tech from the Glenn is activating!" the strange gizmo inside the chamber switches on automatically, wiggling around its probs before violently piercing the creature's flesh.

"SCRREEEEE!" The beast squeals in pain making Kuade jump in surprise.

Stamets' hub projects a star system map that glitters with a thousand glowing dots, "This is every charted star system. The Tardigrade is holding all these coordinates in its head," he exclaims, "Course is set for Corvan 2. We're ready to jump, sir."

WRAAAANG! BLACK ALERT! WRAAANG! BLACK ALERT!

This is all quite a lot for the detective to take in, "Jump again?" he questions breathlessly and then notices the alarm blaring in the background. He remembers his earlier conversation with Bex, "Does the Black Alert reach cargo bay?" he asks Stamets and Burnham.

Stamets looks at him as if that is the wrong question to be asking at this time, "I dunno. You're Operations."

Kuade's eyes go big and he abruptly takes off up the stairs and out of the Testing Bay area, abandoning his tools and the flickering console.

"Wha-Where is he going?" Stamets complains.

The detective slides and slams into the opposite hallway wall of the exit and sprints down the corridors, deeper into the second secondary hull.

UPDATE 1.3.18 Added more to this scene then just Kuade's sudden burst of super strength.

Bex walks along the upper catwalk of the cargo bay doing her last minute rounds. With a busted comm system, everything sits in silence, allowing her to continue work unaware of the ship's primed Spore Drive. The pedestrian access door to the walkway opens and the Black Alert alarms spill into the corridor.

"SAM!" Kuade gasps right when the ship jumps to Corvan 2 and straight into a Klingon photon torpedo. A wall of the cargo bay rips open and Bex feels the gravity shift behind her as she begins to fall out of the ship. She tumbles backward, rolling head over foot being forced towards the now massive breach along the hull walls. She can see this opening come at her fast, but she cannot catch or slow her fall. She collides with something hard.

The wind knocks out of her lungs and her brain slams against her skull as a familiar bright netting flashes in her eyes. A forcefield! The same kind that in the ship's brig, only now doubling as an instant repair for the hull breach.

More Klingon torpedoes collide with the ship while it hovers to a full stop above the Corvan mines. When the Discovery clears mycelial plane, the shields come up to full power. They block the incoming attacks, but the ship continues to shake fiercely while sparks, loose boxes, and debris begin to rain down in the cargo bay.

Bex comes to her senses and clamors to her feet, but her mild concussion confuses her legs and she trips and falls while she and lose cargo are flung across the floor, side to side.

"SAM!" Kuade calls from the upper deck stairs and leans far over the railing to reach down to her, "JUMP!"

Bex can just barely see his blurry hand stick out from his blue sleeve. She runs to it, trying to maintain her footing and pushes off the ground. He catches her by the wrist and in one burst of energy, throws her high up into the air, several feet above his head like she weighs nothing. Her breath snags in her throat when she sees Kuade's cheerful face several feet below her. He opens his arms wide and catches her clumsily against his chest.

"Gotcha, kid!" he beams happily.

"H-how did you..." she pushes away, but walkway starts to sway.

"No time. Come on!" Kuade jerks her by the arm up the remaining steps just before the walkway comes crashing down, tossing metal shrapnel everywhere. They lean safely against the reinforced walls of the hallway and pant hard by bracing their hands on their knees. The ship continues to shake with muffled rumbles, but no sparks or boxes fling about the hall.

"Are.. are we under a-attack?" Bex tries to speak between breaths.

"Sort of? Another Lorca Maneuver. He means to make a good impression."

"On who?"

"His crew? The Klingons? Himself? Who knows!"

Bex half laughs, "You know, Charlie may be madcap with a death wish, but at least he never threw me down in steerage, literally. Is this typical Starfleet treatment of Intelligence Officers?"

"Ha! You're not much of an officer, Sam. The only intelligence you've provided is a Klingon menu plan. Big deal! Lorca's fighting a war! You're upset you dropped off his radar? Good! Better you than any of his other 200 more capable crewmen."

"How do you know the Captain spoke with me?"

"This ship travels fast and so does its gossip. Word on the grapevine says your free ride coming to an end. Lorca loathes inutility and you're a POW, turncoat who can't work a tricorder."

"I'm not here to run his ship," Bex growls.

"Then get the Captain's attention! Excite him. Make him angry! Give him the old 'Bexel Charm,'" he winks, "Otherwise the Marquis is toast!"

"Let's send them a message they won't forget! GO!" Lorca instructs over the comm, "Drop the bombs!" the ship jumps again, making Bex's head throb, even more, causing her to fall back against the wall.

"Ah!" Kuade's sea legs kick in to help him stand, "Another bait 'n switch. Lure the Klingons in with a tasty snack and then blow them to bits with dynamite!"

"Congratulations, Discovery," Lorca's voice echoes over the comm, "We have secured Crovan 2."

"Finally!" Kuade breathes out and stretches as the normal running lights of the halls switch back on, "We survived another day aboard... Hmm?" he looks down at his chest and notices a smallish piece of triangular metal poking out from his skin.

"Oh my God..." Bex drops her jaw in horror. Kuade cranes his long neck around and finds a two-foot piece of debris jutting out from his back, skewering him straight through the sternum, "J-just.. just stay calm!" Bex panics trying to think, but he does not seem bothered at all. Stiffening the palm of his hand, he pushes down on the small triangle sticking out from his chest, forcing the shrapnel backward out of his body. It clangs to heavy to the ground and shines when perfectly clean chrome, not a spot of blood. He gingerly pats his torso with his fingers and his wound heals instantly, leaving only a trace of torn fabric. Bex steps away, amazed and terrified.

"Well, now you know I can do that," he answers annoyed from revealing his big secret.

She narrows her eyes, "I'm not that concussed... am I?"

"...Adrenaline."

"Adrenaline?"

"Yes. The epinephrine hormone has an interesting effect on the human body during fight or flight reflexes. It can make a person capable of incredible feats of strength and... rejuvenation," he lies poorly.

"Human?" she accuses more than questions, carefully walking backwards down the hall. She should act more surprised after just discovering Kuade's new superpower, but the way she dissects her comrade with her eyes indicates a hint of knowing, "Yeah... whatever you say, lover boy," she turns and saunters back to her dorm.