six_word_stories | (no subject)

Light years? Parsecs? AUs?

Lives.

[It's easy to forget, in some ways. Like a wound that's scabbed over, painless until something scrapes against it. It's not going to ever really close, she tells herself. She can't let it.]

[Jim frowns, sobering. That number... it's familiar. But he has a number, too.

A much smaller one.]

Why that number?

[It's been months since she was sentenced to life, but it didn't take long to realize that her name and actions had spread quickly: sometimes, she's surprised when people don't know her on sight.

It's a not reprieve, even if it's brief.]

That was the cost of the Battle of the Binary Stars.

[Context, Michael. Jim's brow furrows.]

You're Michael Burnham.

[She's tempted to react the way she did in prison, when grief was a shroud she was constantly surrounded by - to lose eye contact, shut him out before the accusations begin.

But logically, that is the way it will always be, unless she changes something.]

I am. [And she waits, keeps eye contact, as calm and emotionless as she learned to be on Vulcan, for a name or contempt.]

[He bites his lip. He doesn't know how to feel about this information--but he knows it's different than he would have reacted last year, maybe.

And different, too, than if she'd led with something else. Something other than a recital of her guilt.]

Two-hundred eleven. Including my captain.

[It's not the same. But it's on his mind.]

[She thinks of Captain Georgiou and the pain is sharp, a fresh loss even after all these months. There have been several mentors in Michael's life, but Phillipa - Phillipa taught her how to be human again.]

What happened?

[It seems fair, in the most basic sense of exchange, if not so much from the point of view of a condemned mutineer potentially drawing parallels.]

I...

I failed him. I hesitated.

[She's quiet a moment, a silent I'm sorry for your loss.]

Who was he?

Captain Stephen Garrovick. USS Farragut.

[She knows of the name, but not the tragedy: it must have happened while she was in prison, she reasons. She also reasons:]

The Klingons?

Ah. No. I haven't...

We were investigating a mysterious cloud creature on Tycho IV. It killed him, and half our crew.

[It gives her pause - because half his crew died, and because Starfleet is still expending resources on exploration during a time of war. It's illogical, extraneous, unnecessary--

And it's indicative of everything she has loved about this organization.]

Sentient?

I...

[He doesn't like what he had been on the cusp of saying. That it had felt evil. Malevolent. Because it doesn't make a lot of sense. And it's unproveable.]

I don't know. I guess I just mean that I know what it's like. To... to lose a captain. I don't know what happened on the Shenzhou. But I guess you're waiting for me to judge you for it.

[Hearing the Shenzhou's name is a sharp reminder, and the beginnings of curiosity slip away again, back behind the guise she learned on Vulcan.]

Most know enough to judge.

[He shakes his head. He's too young for the look in his eyes. It's a look that's been there since he was fourteen, however.]

I might have thought so. Once.

[Before the Farragut, she imagines. Tarsus is something else entirely.

So it takes a moment, but she inclines her head. It's been easier to forgive Tilly, who says and does things without realizing first how they might be taken - there's logic even in that. Michael expects to be judged. She expects to be hated.

And when she's not, despite herself, it takes her by surprise.]

You said you hesitated. I...acted too quickly. [She still thinks that maybe, if Phillipa had just taken her advice--]

[That is not what he'd heard--or rather, that's not how mutiny is usually understood. His brow furrows.]

They say you started the war. And... hesitating would have prevented that?

I did start the war. Hesitating wouldn't have changed that.

[It would have just been her stabbed with a bat'leth instead of the Klingon. But...]

I tried to save the Shenzhou by firing on the Klingons first.

How can you be sure they would have fired?

It's in their nature.

[He contemplates this. It does seem in line with what has happened since--but it's not in keeping with Federation practice. For good reason, Jim thinks.]

Let me get this straight. You admit to starting the war. But say that they'd have fired anyway. So... why say you started it?

[She hesitates. It's hard to put in words - harder to put herself back there and feel it.]

Captain Georgiou and I boarded the Ship of the Dead intending to capture the Klingons' leader. He...[She rallies, or tries, but fighting off this emotion is difficult.]

He killed my captain. I killed him. [And threw their only potential bargaining chip down the drain.]

[He frowns.]

So your mutiny...

[He trails off, not wanting to finish that sentiment for her, lest he put words in her mouth. It's already abundantly clear that the story he'd heard is far less nuanced than the truth, and while that is sometimes hard for him to remember it's important to try.]

[Most haven't bothered to ask; they took what they heard, took STarfleet's judgement, and believed it. In some ways, it's nice to be allowed to explain herself.

But she plead guilty for a reason. Michael feels this acutely.]

I wanted to save her. Save my crew. Now...[Now she's the enemy.]

[Slowly.]

You disobeyed orders. For your ship.

[He pauses.]

How many lived? On your ship. How many?

[Michael can process information very quickly, thanks to her education int he Vulcan Learning Center. But emotions...She pauses, trying to break the number down, how many of the eight thousand, one hundred and eighty-six were her crew, how many did that leave?

She shakes her head slowly.]

I don't know. I wasn't given much information after my court marshal. [And some questions, she couldn't bring herself to ask.]

[Jim sighs. And pauses before asking the question he's been wanting to since this began.]

Would you do it again?

[That question has danced on the edges of her consciousness for six months.]

Knowing what I know now?

[She knows what she is supposed to say. What she is expected to say, as a former officer of Starfleet, who plead guilty and accepted her punishment. But the truth is more difficult entirely.]

I would take a second phaser with me, and prevent Captain Georgiou's death.

[Barring that, she would bring her body home.]

It's just...

[He starts and stops, wanting to understand, not able to see how this squares with his understanding of loyalty. Or the mutineer Michael Burnham.]

I don't understand. You still feel... loyal to her.

[It's Michael's turn not to understand; her brow furrows, and she stares at him for a long moment before shaking her head.]

She was my captain. My friend. [She will always feel loyal to Philippa; her death will always be Michael's biggest regret.]

[It's hard for him to understand what she doesn't understand about his confusion.]

But you... they call you a mutineer.

[Michael stops, reminds herself - she's close to the situation. She's been reliving it in her head for six months. He hasn't.]

She wouldn't fire first. I saw it as the only way to save her.

[Sorry, Michael. This is pretty hard for him to square with what he's been taught.

But it's bringing back memories of a time when, too young, he'd questioned the Federation's priorities.]

I'm not a legal expert. But I think... [His brow furrows, but he bears down and says what he's thinking.] ...I think they need a different word, for what you did.

And you have the opportunity to stop all of this.

I can't turn time back, Captain.

[He's not entirely sure what his ship is capable of, but that's not a discussion for now.]

No, but you can do your best to keep that number from getting too much higher.

[Well that's a terrifying (amazing, incredible) thing to keep in the back of your mind; Michael inclines her head in acceptance.]

That is exactly what I intend to do aboard Discovery. [Getting used to being without rank, to seeing familiar, angry faces - that part she's internalizing and working on.]

I will help end this war, Captain.

It's why you're here.

[And why he went through all that effort to make sure Michael made her way to Discovery in the first place. She belongs on his crew and on his bridge.]

Cornwell's not happy about it.

[She could ask why, exactly, he felt that effort was necessary, but--]

Does the Admiral intend to remove me?

[He's not inclined to say.]

She can't, I made that clear. Doesn't mean she likes it.

[She arches an eyebrow, just slightly.]

She...can't. [Because Michael is pretty sure Admirals still outrank Captains, how is she not back in prison...]

Not according to Regulation 13982. It was my decision to bring you here. You get to stay until the war is over.