U.S.S. Enterprise
Pergamum Nebula
Una found Pike where she expected to. The “observation deck” was really more of a wide hallway, with ports overlooking the hangar deck on one side and space on the other; with no operations involving shuttlecraft and not much to see while traversing cloud formations, the place had seen little traffic. Earlier in the mission, Enterprise’s first officer had used it herself, finding it a good place for reflection.
She had skipped her sessions ever since the ship departed Susquatane. The hunt for the attackers deserved her every spare moment. But it was a trail already cold when they set out. Day after day of fruitless searching had worn on everyone. The captain most of all.
“Congratulations, Number One.” Leaning against the port looking onto the hangar deck, Pike didn’t turn to face her. “You found me.”
She entered the room slowly. “I thought you would want to know—our engineers have completed the download from the Alpha probe.”
Pike looked at her. “You didn’t call me in?”
“You didn’t leave instructions to do so.”
He tilted his head. “That’s because I didn’t think we’d learn anything.”
“You were correct.”
“Right now, I hate being right.” He returned his gaze to the shuttle deck.
Number One approached him. “The probe only had a lock on the attacker for a few minutes. It’s been running blindly since.”
“No readings on the bogey?”
“It was flying through that muddle,” she said, gesturing to the sauce outside. “We got a better look at Essfive’s starships when they were shooting at us.”
“I guess we couldn’t have expected more.” He shook his head. “We should have left earlier. I mean, right away. Chased them down ourselves.”
Her brow furrowed. “You made the right decision, Chris. We had to see if anyone had survived. We couldn’t—”
“Bull.” Pike tapped on the port he was facing. “I could have left shuttlecraft here to check on the camps while we gave chase. Colt even volunteered.”
“And you could have lost her, and everyone with her, to a return by the attackers. We could only follow one ship.” Una turned around, leaning her back against the port so she could see Pike’s face. “Whatever we would’ve accomplished wouldn’t have been worth it.”
He gestured. “It would have been intel for Starfleet. Justice for the families. Retribution.”
“And whom would that have been for?”
“Revenge isn’t just for Klingons.” He pushed himself away from the port. “Hell, they still could have been Klingons, for all we know.” He took a deep breath. “Una, I just want to know why.”
She had no answer.
For several minutes, they remained silent. Pike meandered to the opposite wall, gazing out the port to the nebular gases outside.
She simply watched him—until he noticed her reflection in the pane. “You can stop looking at me at any time.”
“Those Illyrians may have taught you a lot, but they can’t read minds.”
“You’re thinking of resigning your commission.”
“What?” Pike looked back. He shook his head vigorously. “Wow. No.”
She pursed her lips. “Hmm.”
He frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that we have a long while before we reach the nebular boundary, which means we could have the same conversation for many days to come.”
“And you’d like to skip ahead to the point where I give you a different answer.”
“It would save time.”
“Time I could spend doing something more useful, like writing my memoirs.” Pike looked back out the port. “It wouldn’t be much of a read.” He exhaled. “How did you know?”
“Because I know how you felt after Rigel VII, when we lost people there. I was afraid you were going to resign right there. Then the Talos business happened.”
“A burn over a cut,” Pike said. “The cut doesn’t stop hurting.”
And neither does the burn. She suspected he had never stopped thinking about Talos IV and the mysterious woman he had met there, Vina. But the first officer had decided long before that the best way for their working relationship to go forward would be to allow Pike to bring her up.
Una stepped to the port—not beside him, but farther up the way, and looked out at the roiling blackness. “You’re committed to this?”
“Yes. I mean, no.” Pike balled his fists. “I mean—here I was, thinking we’d been exiled, kept away from the one place where we might do some good: the war. Instead, we lost more than I imagined possible. So you tell me, Number One. Where am I supposed to be?”
She looked down. “I’m not in the destiny business. I evaluate orders. I thought your orders at Susquatane were correct—and I think your orders since then have been correct. We have followed the trail to its end. It remains to leave, to contact Starfleet as quickly as possible.”
He said nothing.
“In fact,” she said, “I think we should go back through the Acheron Formation.”
That got his attention. “I wasn’t expecting that.”
“It makes sense.” She touched her cheek softly—in Illyrian culture, a microgesture of contemplation. “That’s where we were attacked with a torpedo—meaning it’s possible we might see our attackers there. We know it will save weeks on the return, weeks that could be important for Starfleet. And we did it before.”
“Yeah, but with Spock.” Pike left his vigil and approached her. “Galadjian farmed out the deflector attunements to him last time.”
“But we have a record of what they were—and if you don’t need me on the bridge, I can go down and take Spock’s place. Or oversee engineering while Galadjian makes the adjustments on the fly.”
“Maybe we should stick with little steps there.” Pike shrugged. “Well, there’s certainly no reason to be on the bridge. You’ve seen all the sights before.” He let out an exasperated chuckle. “Hell, I’d hide in a windowless room, if I could.”
“Hiding doesn’t work. You’ve taught a lot of cadets that.”
He exhaled. “Okay, I don’t know if I’m going to quit. But I am going to face the music—and that might be the same as quitting. I guess I don’t need to decide anything but the destination.”
“And then the destination will decide.” She nodded. “Starbase One—via the Acheron.”
He turned toward the door. As she walked at his side, he smiled gently. “We really are going in circles, aren’t we?”
She didn’t have a clever response—but then she was already busy calculating. She only had a limited time to think of a way to keep him from quitting, and she’d just moved her deadline up. A lot.