six_word_stories | (no subject)

[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.