Survival Tactics

God said, "Not so fast..."

"Starfleet Intelligence," Lorca scoffed when Sorensen's holographic shade vaporized from his ready room. "Don't get me wrong, I understand the necessity and value of their work, but that doesn't mean I want to see it, let alone be a part of it."

And yet you did, Burnham thought, and quite easily. She couldn't think an appropriate comment so she remained silent.

"I'm sorry, Burnham. I especially don't like the idea of sending you into the dragon's teeth."

"If you refused, would Starfleet Command support your decision?"

Lorca shook his head. "Sorensen wouldn't have made the call if he didn't know that Command would back his play. Anything he said that sounded like a request was purely theater."

"Then it's best I execute this operation as quickly as possible," Burnham said. "Get this over with quickly and make everyone happy."

"I like where you're head is at, Burnham," Lorca said as he plucked a fortune cookie from the wooden bowl perched at the starboard edge of his desk and began slowly shattering it. "But I'm not ending you down there alone. "If that desk-rider thinks I'm not taking appropriate precautions to safeguard my crewmember, then he better get his nose out of the computer screen. Detmer will go with you."

Burham felt her stomach flip. "Sir?"

"If they're not going to authorize a security team, I can at least make sure you have an experienced pilot flying you in and out. Plus you got an extra set of eyes to watch your back."

"I see," Burnham said, and regretted it immediately. It would have been a perfectly appropriate response to a Vulcan, but—and she often forgot this—humans were far better at perceiving the emotions which hid behind even the most inncousous comments. Lorca was no exception.

"Is there a problem, Burnham?" he asked.

"No sir."

"I realize you served together on the Shenzhou. If either or both of you brought some baggage aboard, I suggest you leave it behind. This is a delicate operation. I need you clear-headed."

"There's no problem, sir," Burnham insisted, hopefully not too forcefully.

"Good," Lorca said, still suspicious. "Go pack a load-out for an extraction mission. I'll brief Detmer."

"Yes sir."

"Dismissed, Specialist Burnham."

Burnham left the ready room, deliberately not looking around the bridge as she did so. She imagined she could hear those deities laughing.