#uss archangel fic exchange

[ussarchangel]

Syncable/Sinkable

giftee: @maegfen

prompt: 1)Reunion – Mirror Lorca and Prime Michael are (somehow) reunited post S1 slightly added in prompt 2)Away mission as well.

rated T for some swearing

a/n: i tried to put some actual plot in this but it just didn’t want to happen. dear @maegfen, i hope this does your amazing prompts justice <3

For all intents and purposes, the war has ended, but its haze of paranoia still lingers. Paranoia, that turns out to be more justified than not when the whispers of a Klingon-made biological weapon are confirmed through Starfleet’s top secret communication channels. This in itself would not have concerned USS Discovery, had the weapon in question not been, allegedly, running on a spore drive.

Commander Michael Burnham chewed on her lip as she listened to this news. Apparently, she has the privilege of going on a mission to gather more intel and, preferably, acquire the weapon plans. Admiral Cornwell seemed more reluctant than usual to send someone into a possible- if not likely- death trap. Michael wondered how many friends, crew and colleagues she has lost during those months the Discovery was absent.

And that is why, a very short while later, Michael stands in a narrow alley on a small, barely habitated moon just off Starbase 343, staring at some teashop’s back door, just meters away from the assigned meeting point.

She checks her communicator, but neither Tilly nor Saru have made contact yet. She decides that’s probably a good thing, and opens the door.

Michael finds herself in a nondescript room, plain walls, no windows. She walks a slow circle around the room, observing, cataloguing. It passes as an office, barely. A makeshift desk and a chair, some PADDs strewn about. A small collection of strange artefacts crammed into a suitcase lying next to the desk. She leans forward to inspect them more closely, careful not to touch just in case they’re as dangerous as they are bizarre.

She finds nothing that tells her who the person she’s here to meet is, or what their motives for helping the Federation are.

Her snooping is interrupted by the creak of the door opening and before she even has the time to turn around, a familiar, gravelly voice calls out.

“Hello Michael.”

She freezes, eyes widened in shock, adrenaline level spiking. She’s motionless for barely a heartbeat before instinct kicks in and she swiftly turns, phaser already in hand.

Gabriel Lorca stands in front of her, whole and very much alive.

Her mind races with possible explanations to what she’s seeing, her eyes roving over his form trying to make sure it’s not an illusion, a trick. Michael doesn’t know who or what’s in front of her, but she knows she doesn’t trust him.

“How?”, she demands. To her surprise, her voice doesn’t falter. “I saw you die, how are you here?”

Lorca grins. “Calm down Michael, you look as if you’ve seen a ghost.“

The attempt at a joke falls flat since he might as well be. His face is pale and sunken, the blue of his eyes highlighted by the dark bags underneath. Yet there he is, alive and unharmed. Holding her gaze and pointedly ignoring the phaser aimed at his chest.

He raises his hands in a calming manner. “It’s me,” he insists. His voice is level and calm but there’s an almost imperceptible nervous twitch to his fingers. Lorca shakes his head, “I don’t know how, or why, but it’s really me.”

There’s something in his eyes Michael recognizes, hard determination, self-assured arrogance. The tiniest flicker of fear. Intense. Familiar.

It’s him. It is Lorca, the one she knew. Thought she knew. Thanks to whatever curse or miracle, Gabriel Lorca really is here and alive. Relief washes over her, followed closely by anxiety at the implications that the emotion brings, implications she does not have time to consider.

"Put down the phaser, Michael. I’m not going to hurt you.”

It’s true. She knows it the same way she knew he wouldn’t- couldn’t kill her on ISS Charon. There’s a sense of déjà vu to their current situation that could almost make her laugh. Michael shakes her head in resignation and lowers the phaser.

Lorca releases a small, relieved sigh and steps closer. She notices he’s still wearing the silver armor underneath his jacket, now with a stark, jagged, vertical slit in its center. It reveals nothing more than his undershirt but the sight still unnerves her. She can almost see the sword protruding from his chest, hear his surprised gasp as it impaled him.

She looks back up. “Why are you here?”

“I’m the informant you were sent to meet.”

“No, why are you here? In this universe, on this moon, alive?”

“Destiny?” he shrugs, almost teasingly. “The curious paths of the mycelial network? Take your pick, it’s as good a guess as any.”

She gives him a considering look but he doesn’t seem to be lying. Of course, that doesn’t mean anything anymore, but the issue of his resurrection is not her priority at the moment. Not to mention she’s worried what she might do or say if she doesn’t keep the conversation strictly to her mission objectives.

Michael keeps her tone curt and business-like. “Why are you helping us?” she inquires.

“Klingons have a weapon. I need a mode of transport,” he reasons. “A mode of transport Starfleet could provide, in their gratitude for my assistance.”

Michael raises a skeptical eyebrow. “And what makes you think Starfleet would be inclined to help you? Or anyone on Discovery for that matter?” She decides the unusable state of Discovery’s spore drive does not need mentioning.

He smirks. “Nothing. But I do think Starfleet would be inclined to try and avoid getting blown to shreds.”

She purses her lips, unconvinced.

He sighs, rolls his eyes. “Look, I don’t particularly want to stick around, and I’m sure Starfleet would love to get rid of me as well. There’s an Empire out there in desperate need of a leader,” he pauses, gauging her reaction. Michael doesn’t hide the disdain on her face. “And there’s nothing for me here,” he concludes.

The tone of his voice is detached, but Michael recognizes the question in it.

“How do you know Philippa hasn’t regained control of the Empire by now?” she bluffs.

Lorca’s mouth curves into a teasing smile. “As if you didn’t bring her back here with you?”

She can’t hide how the question startles her. The corner of her mouth twists into a vaguely guilty expression. “How-”

“You always were sentimental. Even the other Michael - my Michael – couldn’t easily abandon her, even after everything she’s done to her.”

A nostalgic sadness fills his eyes at the mention of the other Michael Burnham. Despite the truth revealed to her by Philippa, he looks like someone who lost a loved one. Michael wants to learn more.

“I am not her,” she asserts.

Lorca sizes her up. “No. You’re not. In so many ways you’re better, I told you that.”

His compliments have always made her feel… uncomfortable, but she never could pinpoint why. A certain warm feeling in her stomach, pleasant almost but intertwined with dread. She shakes it off, focuses back on her mission. Acquire the information. Get out. Easy.

“Let’s get this over with. What do you have for me? The weapon plans? Let’s hear it.”

“I don’t have the plans myself per se,” he drawls, “but I know a guy who does.”

Michael can feel the anger spark in her. “And who, pray tell, is the guy?”

“A fucking nutjob honestly, but reliable. Does business with anyone, no loyalty to any side. He has the plans and everything else you need.”

“And I’m guessing he’ll want something in return?” She gestures with her right hand which is still holding the phaser. It has the desired effect as Lorca glances nervously at it.

“A favor.” he replies. “He’ll give you what you need, but you’ll have to owe him a favor.”

Michael takes a moment to ponder that. Clearly, the Federation doesn’t do business with his type, but how much choice do they have?

“Alright”, Michael tucks her phaser back into its holster. “Where can I find him?”

“He’s usually somewhere around Vintaak system,” Lorca answers, his shoulders finally relaxing with the phaser out of sight. “But you can’t go there alone.”

Michael opens her mouth to protest but Lorca interrupts her. “He doesn’t talk to just anybody,” he explains. “You need someone he already knows. Someone like me.”

Michael nods. The whole thing is suspiciously convenient for him, and she’ll be damned if she lets him take advantage of her ever again. “Okay. Now tell me why should I trust a word of what you just said?”

He seems hurt at the abrasiveness of her words. "I’ve never lied to you, Michael.”

She cocks her head to the side, narrows her eyes.

He sighs, “Omitted facts, yes, but never lied.”

“Did you lie to her?” she asks abruptly. “To the other Michael?”

She doesn’t know what possesses her to open this can of worms now, but the words are out of her mouth before she can stop them. Her breathing quickens. All the unprocessed emotion of their unexpected meeting is bubbling up and she’s not sure she can keep it from spilling out.

His lips open in surprise. He walks closer, stops right in front of her. He raises his hand as if to touch her shoulder but then seems to change his mind and lowers it, balled into a fist. It doesn’t even matter because Lorca stares right into her eyes and it almost feels like a physical touch.

“Never.” His voice is raspy, almost breaks. “I’ve never lied to her. I was probably the only person who didn’t.“

Michael wants to come closer. She takes a step back.

“That’s not what Philippa said,” she protests, unconvincingly.

“You don’t believe me but you’ll believe the Terran Emperor?” he mocks. ”Because she has proven herself to be so trustworthy and honorable?”  He tsks, “Michael, I thought you knew better.”

Michael knows he has a point and she isn’t eager to admit it. To admit how quick she was to trust the woman with Philippa Georgiou’s face. Still, she presses on. “She told me what you did to her daughter. How you influenced her from a young age and…” She can’t bring herself to finish the sentence. The disgust written plainly on her face finishes it for her.

His mouth tightens. “That’s what she told you?” he grits out, leaning away from her. “She said-“

Infuriated, he starts pacing around. “I would never,” he swears. In two quick strides he’s back in front of her, towering over her. It would be intimidating were it not for the gentleness in his clear, blue eyes. “Not you. Not her, not- not any version of you, from any universe.”

Despite her better judgement, Michael believes him. There’s compassion in her for him, for the loss of his crew, his lover, his world. Still, it is far overpowered by anger and pain.

Back when she first learned of his true identity she barely had the time to deal with the news before she was fighting him, fighting for the lives of her friends, and then watching him fall to his death. Now she is forced to confront him and all the hurt his betrayal brought that she has tucked away, ignored.

And she must confront him, or it will fester inside her, keep her up at nights. She refuses to let him get under her skin like that.

“It doesn’t matter,” she fumes. “You still used me, manipulated me for your own gain from the moment that prison shuttle was beamed onto the ship.” She trembles, fingernails digging into her palms. “Did you orchestrate that too or was it destiny?” She spits out the word like an insult.

“You’re damn right I orchestrated it,” he admits, unfazed by her anger. “The second I saw your name in the database I made sure to help you, out of pure fucking sentiment,” he snaps.

He clenches his jaw, runs his hand through his hair. It’s not the confession she expected.

Lorca continues, heated, “You were not meant to rot away forever on some mining planet. You, Starfleet’s best and brightest. An officer who followed her own damn reason instead of some idiotic law or principle and got punished for it? They didn’t deserve you.”

He takes a deep breath, calms down. Looks away as if he can’t bear the sight of her.

“I got you out because that’s what you deserved. I kept you safe because I wanted you to be happy. And yes, because I needed you. I needed you to win the war, I needed you to get to Philippa and most importantly, I needed you because on some days seeing you was the only thing that kept me grounded and sane.”

His gaze lifts to meet hers and she is struck by the open emotion. It reminds Michael of the softness on his face when she lied and surrendered herself to him on Charon. He looks at her reverently, adoringly. It’s too much.

She sighs, closes her eyes, drags her hands down her face. She’s tired, tired of not knowing how to feel around him, tired of weighing his every word, seeking the truth and picking out the lies.

“What do you want, Michael?” he asks softly.

“Peace. I want peace of mind.” She neglects to mention the tingle she feels every time he says her name, stands close to her, tells her terrifying truths- it will never let her have that. There’s a difficulty in managing her emotions she experiences around him that has nothing to do with her Vulcan upbringing.

She opens her eyes. She doesn’t know what he sees but it looks like it makes him sad.

“It would be easier if I was dead again, wouldn’t it?” He blinks and suddenly he’s steady and composed. A mask. “Just end it,” he suggests. “I know you can’t do it in cold blood. Do you want me to attack you? Would that make it easier?”

She frowns. Her gaze falls down to his chest, to the open wound in his armor. Slowly, she reaches out her hand and touches the ragged edges. She hears him gasp, feels it under her fingertips. His death never sat right with her. It wasn’t justice, it was revenge. The thought of watching him die once again reveals one thing she feels about him that she can be sure of.

“I don’t want you to die,” she confesses.

“You should,” he breathes.

Her eyes slide up. She notices the gray in his stubble, the crow’s feet around his eyes, the firm line of his mouth. He is so familiar, yet not at all.

He has the face of the man who lied and deceived and saved her life. The man who spits on everything she believes in, the man who gave her a second chance. And yet there’s something different about him since his true identity has been revealed. Something softer, more… real. He’s afraid. Uncompromising. There’s an ever present ghost of a smile, directed only at her.

The fog inside her mind clears and with a cold shiver and a startling clarity, she finally understands. She likes this version of Lorca better.

It terrifies her.

“Discovery’s spore drive will not be operational until we find a non-organic navigator,” she finds herself saying. “It could be months, if not longer until that happens. Your best chance is to lay low until we get it fixed, and even then I can’t guarantee we’ll help you.”

The smart thing to do would be to bring him back to Discovery, keep him in custody and have him escort someone to Vintaak so they can gather the intel. Then send him to trial and execute the sentence. Mirror universe or not, he committed crimes and violated Federation laws. She’d never get to see him again, and he’d pay for his crimes.

She knows this, he knows this.

Lorca stares at her in reluctant amazement, slack-jawed, frowning. Michael stands her ground, head held high. With nothing left to tie him to her, no reason to help her now, she’s ready to say goodbye forever. She suspects – hopes – he won’t let her.

“Okay,” he agrees. Pauses, waiting for her to continue. She doesn’t. “I have the transport to Vintaak ready and waiting?” he adds. Lorca’s smiling at her like he’s just won a battle that was deemed doomed from the start. It’s an expression she has gotten to know well during her time on Discovery, though she’s not sure his eyes ever had this youthful spark they do now.

A million and one thought crosses her mind, plans and strategies cancelling each other out, until one plan, one idea is left.

Well, it’s not the worst she ever had.

Michael nods, straightens herself up, and holds out her hand.

“Let’s go.”

[maegfen]

My story for @thousand-miless for the USS Archangel fic exchange, now available on AO3. The prompt: Lorca gets injured. Michael is surprised by how worried she is. Instead of dealing with it she hides. A confrontation follows. Rated: G Set post S1 with a few canon alterations...

[ellethom1]

5 Times They Could Blame It On Work and the One Time they Couldn’t

Sooooo...I got the lovely @funnelferrybutterbar and she had a couple of requests.  I wrote two, this is the first one, its a five times thing.  never done one before, hope I got it right.  Watch this space this week, we gonna be posting a new experience erryday.

* * * * *

Chapter one.  Exchanging Information

This was, new.

He watched the two from his seat at his station, noting the way they seemed to stalk around each other,  trading roles as both predator and prey. He knew something about that, his people had been predicated upon for most of their existence, nearly into extinction.  

This, this new thing between his (new) captain and the (new) science officer.  It wasn't anything entirely unsuspected, especially given the previous captain’s predilection for the woman.  There were still late night discussions in the dimly lit mess hall about a Klingon Mission, a stand off, and a barely comprehended life that had been lived in the mirror universe.

Saru wasn't one for rumor, nor gossip, nor for that matter, anything outside of regulation conversations, but Ensign Tilly had a big mouth and a love of late 20th century movies.  

He watched as the two seemed to come closer, standing a breadth apart as they, under the auspices of mission and duty, invaded each other’s space unnecessarily.  

Not that any of that mattered, of course.  Regulations were clear, but Saru knew how to look the other way.  Hadn’t both she and Tyler done the same for him?

His only fear, an emotion he was more than acquainted with, was the rest of the crew figuring out what he only suspected.  Saru took another look at the two and pretended to be scandalized as Lorca placed one of his long fingers onto the back of her hand.  It wasn't the touch that Saru considered, it was the movement, the gentle tactile impressions of a caress.

He huffed, hating being right and loving that he had sussed out what others had missed.  Oh well, none of his business anyway. Saru had learned that survival in Starfleet often meant knowing when to mind one’s own business.  

Later, as Saru sat in Lorca’s ready room debating Romulan diplomacy, Saru caught his chance.  “I won't tell anyone.” he said, sliding back into his seat, his salty tea perched on one long leg.

Lorca, no matter from which universe, was as cool as the other side of the pillow in the middle of the night.  He didn't even change facial expression, but Saru knew the human had assessed and understood exactly what he was implying. “I don’t know what you mean.” the captain said.

“Sir,” he said, treading as carefully as he could. “It's not any of my concern what two consenting adults get up to on off hours.  And, I must admit that the two of you have been most...discreet. “

Lorca gave him a slight nod.  Saru went on. “I only ask that you be more...careful with casual contact on the bridge. “

Lorca leaned back into his own seat, “There was nothing untoward that has transpired between myself and anyone on the bridge.” he defended.

Saru shook his head. “I am from a very distinctive species, Captain.”  Saru said. “We have a knack for observing predatory behaviour of any kind.”

“Commander?” Lorca asked, his voice sounding more like a human and less of the fierce captain. “There is no danger to the rest of the crew.”

Saru sighed. “Permission to speak freely, Sir?”

The captains face fell into a deep lined grin. “You mean there’s another level of free?”  Saru sighed, but the captain motioned with his hand for him to go on.

“I’m very observant, Sir.  But, it's only a matter of time before the rest of the crew catches on, if you’re intent upon smouldering looks and lingering...touches.  On the bridge, in the open.” The Captains’ glare withered Saru’s argument, but the need to finish the conversation was paramount. Saru only hoped his ganglia would stay low.

“We were just sharing information.  Between two consenting officers.”

“Of course, Sir.” Saru said.

A silence fell for a moment, a beat.  Then: “It's still new. There is a lot to…” Lorca rose and went to stand behind his desk.

“Of course, Sir.” Saru noted. “But might I add that whatever went on with the...other...you, is entirely in the past.  I would say with all certainty that there was a perceivable spark, but Commander Burnham has never struck me as one who would replace something for another thing without understanding the weight of both objects and seeing each one for something entirely separate.”

“Ahh.” Lorca nodded.

“Indeed,” Saru said.

“Okay, noted.” It was enough to allow for the captain to both end the conversation and the diplomacy debate.  Saru rose and made for the door. “Commander,” he said to Saru. “I’m sure you understand the urgency for discretion.”

“Always, Captain.”  He stood straighter, realizing there was a fragile line that had been erased just a bit more toward friendship. “No one will hear it from me.”

[ussarchangel]

USS Archangel Fic Exchange, Masterpost!

Masterpost of all the amazing fic written for the 1st ever USS Archangel fic exchange.

2257: A Multiverse Odyssey by @wizfrog

He Came From the Other Place by @flubber2kool

Syncable/Sinkable by @anakinskvwalkcr

I Know Not Why I Worry by @maegfen

Beyond the Shadows by @the-geek-cornucopia

Encounter by @thousand-miless

Multi-Chaps

Kneel

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 & 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

A Marriage of Convience

Chapter 1: A Mercy

Chapter 2: Traditions

Chapter 3: Sight Unseen

[ussarchangel]

2257: A Multi-Verse Odyssey

2257: A Multi-Verse Odyssey

Giftee: @geekcornucopia

Prompt: Prime Lorca makes his way back to the prime universe after visiting a few realities.

Genre: Bit of angst, bit of crack!Fic. If such a medley is ever possible.

Rated: T for some bad language

Notes: This is my first time taking part in a fic exchange. Thank you @geekcornucopia for the prompts, @ussarchangel for setting this up and @makimurakaori for giving it the once-over. Any remaining nonsense can be blamed on me.

**

“Commander Burnham? Is it true?”

Michael looked up from her plate, momentarily confused by hearing what had become an unfamiliar title but in a familiar voice. Tilly - Ensign Tilly, she corrected herself, since they both shared new ranks - was clutching her lunch tray close to her chest from underneath rather than the sides, something she only did when she was either nervous or excited or, as was often the case, both.

“What’s true?”

“About… him. That he’s going to be our new captain?” She frowned. “Although would he really be new? Our new old captain, maybe? I mean, he’s not the same man, right?”

Tilly had made a lot of progress in modulating the volume of her voice, but she still had some way to go, especially when she was… nervous or excited or both. Michael indicated that she should sit down next to her, aware that eyes were beginning to turn in their direction. Most people on Discovery had learned to tune her out, but they were on Earth Spacedock where their ship was undergoing maintenance; here they were surrounded by strangers who knew only of them following their victory over the Klingons and Michael found that she disliked fame nearly as much as infamy.

“Yes, it’s true,” she finally confirmed, as casually as she could. “Provided he is proven fit to serve and command. According to Sarek, that should not be a problem.”

Sarek had, apparently, spent a lot of time alongside a select few other people talking to Lorca and that was how Michael knew of what was to come. He had openly asked her, in that blunt yet perfectly polite Vulcan way, whether she thought it would prove difficult for her working with him, and she now suspected that he had requested his time with Lorca to vet the man himself. She and Sarek still had some way to go to repair their relationship but she knew now beyond a doubt that he cared deeply for her.

“That’s gonna be so weird.” Tilly wrinkled her nose. “We need a new word for weird, actually, because frankly after everything we’ve seen in the last few months, ‘weird’ doesn’t seem to cut it anymore, does it?”

“No,” Michael said with a half-smile. “It certainly doesn’t.”

Her friend didn’t know the half of it. Tilly had been very aware (and possible over-invested in) Michael’s relationship with Ash and it had been a blessing when that had turned into a special kind of disaster - the kind of disaster Michael was beginning to think was reserved only for her. She had been there to push Michael when she needed to be pushed, and accepting when she had needed that, and she credited Tilly for enabling her eventually to have the best parting from Ash that could be hoped for. She hadn’t needed to go to her and ‘talk’, Tilly already knew what she needed to know.  

But Tilly didn’t know about Gabriel Lorca. She didn’t know that the man who had turned out to be from a mirror universe had been his Michael’s lover, that they had quite possibly plotted to take over the Quadrant together, that he had then more or less declared his love for her…

Saru knew. Knew that part, at least, what Michael had meant to that Gabriel Lorca, but had no idea what their captain had meant to Michael, and it was something far deeper than she felt capable to unearth. Maybe it was because she couldn’t talk about it that it hurt so much more than Ash. Maybe it was because she had let him fall, tired of getting hurt and wanting to do some hurting of her own. Except she couldn’t take it back. She’d seen him in her dreams for a while; once she had taken the hand he had extended to her. When she’d woken up, her heart thumping in her chest, it had taken a while for her to work out what was dream and what was real.

No, he wasn’t going to be the same person. People said that as though it was going to make it all easier, when in fact Michael wanted him to be the Lorca she knew. So she could say sorry. So they could start over.

“It’s macaroni and cheese.” Michael blinked, raised her eyes to look at Tilly. “You’ve been staring at your plate like you have no idea what’s there. It’s macaroni and cheese.”

She straightened and poked her fork at her food. “Trust me, that may be what it looks like but that’s not what it is. At least it’s nothing like the one Amanda used to make.”

“What’s Vulcan food like?”

Tilly could sometimes have an overbearing, distracting presence, and Michael loved her for it.

**

“They could move things with their minds?”

He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “Is this really necessary? I’ve already been through one debriefing and it was pretty thorough. No toilet breaks. Are we gonna have toilet breaks?”

“Do you require use of sanitary facilities, Captain Lorca?”

That was the Vulcan Sarek. He had known of many different Sareks in his travels and had even met some of them; after his encounter with the one in the universe where Vulcans had not embraced logic, he liked this present version a lot. Lorca’s fingers pulled slightly at his collar, remembering too vividly how that particular Sarek had tried to strangle him, looking to avenge his daughter’s honour: Lorca had apparently abandoned her after she’d become pregnant with “his” child. She’d saved his life, her arrival to plead with her father triggering the jump that had allowed him to escape.

“No, I don’t. But I might. Soon,” he replied, defiantly emptying the tall glass of water in front of him.

“I can assure you that you are free to make use of the facilities any time you wish, Captain -”

“So they could move things with their minds?”

Lorca turned to look at the Starfleet officer questioning him. Lieutenant Commander Stamets had not been at the previous debriefing but he had co-developed the Discovery’s spore drive and had navigated the ship and its crew back from one of the parallel universes they’d been dragged to by one of his counterparts. No one knew more about the Mycelial network than Stamets, Lorca had been told, and he could tell the man was pretty annoyed at the thought that it may no longer be the case.

“Yes. Or rather… their will. They didn’t share much with outsiders.”

“And by outsiders you mean people who were not… What did you call them?”

“I didn’t call them anything. They called themselves Jedis.”

“And they had…. Light weapons?”

“Lightsabers. Used it as you might a sword, except it was a beam of light. Saw one go through metal, repel laser shots -”

Stamets uttered a grunt of disbelief. “This is the stuff of fairy tales.”

“And before Zefram Cochrane fired the Phoenix into Warp, we thought telepathy and people with pointy ears were the stuff of fairy tales, too,” he replied, crossing his arms and jerking his chin towards Sarek.  

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow. “Captain Lorca is correct, Lieutenant Commander Stamets,” he said. “Since it appears that the theory of an infinity of parallel universes may be true, anything - quite literally - may be possible.”

“Why would I make this up, Stamets? You think I don’t know how crazy this makes me sound? I was asked to share any information about my experiences that may help Starfleet - and you - find a way to tap into the Network safely for everyone involved. So that’s what I’m doing.”

Stamets stared at him for a moment, impatience and frustration written all over his face. There was something of a grudge in the way he looked at him that made Lorca assume Stamets had some unfinished business with the Mirror Universe Lorca he had served under for many months. “Ok. All right. And this is helping us how?”

“They talked about this thing called midi-chlorians. Knowing what I know now about the Network, it seems clear to me that these things enabled some people to tap into the Network somehow, like your spores do, or the Tardigrades. As for what you can do with that knowledge, I have no idea. You’re the scientist, not me.”

The debriefing went on for another hour or so, by which time Lorca really did need to make use of the facilities. Stamets’ manner had softened a little, although he wondered whether that would have lasted if he’d mentioned the universe with the Wizards and Muggles, but the Scientist had been taken with Lorca’s recollection of the encounter he’d had with someone who seemed to have their own version of a spore drive, although the Doctor, as he called himself, could only travel through space and time within his own universe.

Dismissed from the debriefing and having relieved himself, Lorca was looking forward to something to eat when he was caught by Sarek before he could make it to the turbolift.

“Captain Lorca, may I speak with you?”

Lorca groaned. “I think I’ve done enough talking today, thanks. I’ve told you all I could already. Twice.”

“I am aware of and thankful for your detailed testimony. However, this time it is I who has something to tell you.” A tingle of apprehension ran up his spine. “It is about Michael Burnham.”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn.

Lorca had hoped to avoid the subject for a little longer. Besides, he knew plenty about her from her files: parents killed by Klingons, adopted by Ambassador Sarek and his human wife Amanda, raised on Vulcan where she achieved the rare distinction of attending the Vulcan Science Academy, Starfleet’s first mutineer, warmonger… And now, of course, saviour of the Federation, it seemed. Like the numerous other Michaels he’d met, she clearly didn’t do things by halves, as well as also being raised by Sarek (though not all of them were). The only kind of information Sarek could possibly relay to him at this point had to be personal.

He could have requested another command, left well alone, but what good would it do? In the end, in all his travels, it had only ever come down to one thing: Michael Burnham. There was no point in fighting his fate.

**

Tilly was sharing stories of the most disappointing deserts she’d ever had when Michael’s communicator beeped, requesting her presence in Transporter Room 3B. There she found Sarek waiting for her.

“Are you returning to Earth, Father?”

“Only briefly, so your mother and I may travel home together. But I have not asked you here to say goodbye, not yet. Eight years ago, I brought you to Captain Georgiou. Now I wish, if you would let me, to bring you to your new Captain.”

Michael frowned. “I’m not sure I understand. Am I being transferred?”

“No. I am referring to Captain Gabriel Lorca.”

“So it has been confirmed?”

“It has.”

She already knew it was unlikely not to be. Logically, she should not have been surprised. Logically. “I still do not understand. We don’t need to use transporters to board the Discovery.”

“He is waiting to meet with you on the surface.”

“Why?”

“Why is he waiting to meet with you, or why is he waiting on the surface?”

“Both, actually.”

“I suggested an informal meeting to him. The specific location was his choice.”

“You suggested it to him? Why?”

Sarek glanced at the crewmember manning the operations panel. “Let us transport to Earth and I shall explain.”

She wanted to object, stand her ground, but it was pointless to. The meeting may have been Sarek’s idea but Lorca could make it an order. Refusing to go would only delay the inevitable and felt childish.

They rematerialised in a small park just outside Starfleet Academy. Michael blinked away the sudden brightness, then followed Sarek onto a tree-lined path.

“When I mind-melded with Lieutenant Saru upon your return to our universe, I saw many things that he had experienced, and was made aware of many things that he knew. Your relationship with the former Captain Lorca went deeper than those he had with other members of his crew.”

Be careful what you wish for, Michael. She had wished for someone else to know but now that they did, the pain and shame were made real. Some of it was habit, of course - the fear of disappointing Sarek by showing emotions, her own anger that she could not stop feeling because all she knew of feelings was sorrow and grief now.

“This previous Lorca gave you something that you had lost, something you would not let your family give you both before and after your sentencing,” Sarek continued. “The greater the gift, the more grievous the anguish when it is gone. It is to be expected that you should feel betrayed, Michael. And trust, while easily lost, is extremely hard to regain.”

“He is not that Lorca. He is as worthy of my trust as any other Starfleet Captain.”

Sarek halted. “That is indeed the logical position. Yet you know as well as I do that it is more complicated than logic would allow, or you would not have brought Emperor Georgiou back to our universe.” Michael looked away. “It is not a reproach, merely a statement of fact. It was a difficult task, reminding myself that she was not my dear friend. I know what she meant to you. I also know that you would never let someone die if you could prevent it.”

“You’re worried I will only see the other Lorca.”

“Are you not?” She had nothing to reply to that. “When I said I suggested this meeting, it was not entirely accurate. While I suggested the meeting to Captain Lorca, it was your mother who suggested the meeting to me.”

“Amanda? This is Amanda’s idea?”

“She felt that meeting with Captain Lorca in a context not over-burdened with duty or protocol would allow for a freer exchange of thoughts.”

Michael looked around, wondering whether she might be able to spot him. All she could see were people milling about, enjoying their lunch break in the sun; at the other end of the park she could hear the cries of children enjoying a playground. It was all very normal, and that felt… weirdest of all.

“I think she may be right.”

“She usually is. Captain Lorca said he was hungry. You may find him near a food stand.” Sarek raised his hand. “Dif-tor heh smusma.”

Michael raised hers. “Sochya eh dif.”   

With a deep breath, she left her father and took another look at her surroundings. After a few moments she spotted a kiosk near a bandstand and headed that way. There she found him,  much like the first time she had the other one, standing ramrod straight with his back to her - except this time he didn’t half-blend into the darkness. Instead, he stood out like a sore thumb in his Starfleet uniform, slightly rocking on his heels as he waited at the back of a queue of civilians. Silently Michael gave thanks to her adoptive mother, because just looking at the back of his head was enough to send her stomach roiling with apprehension and hope. Here in this park, surrounded by strangers who could not judge and an open sky that made her feel like there was somewhere she could escape to, she was able to steady herself. With another breath, she approached him, straightened and crossed her arms behind her back.

“Captain Lorca?”

“Yeah?” The first time she had met the other Lorca, he had been suave and open. This one was scowling and looked distracted, then wary as he recognised her. “Commander Burnham. Would you care for some chilli?”

“No, thank you, sir. I’ve already eaten.”

He looked back at the queue, then sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, it figures. C’mon, let’s take a walk.”

As they walked past a pond, Lorca stopped and half-smiled. “They’ve taken down the fencing. That’d have been helpful 30 years ago.”

“Sir?”

“When I was 15, I went skinny-dipping in there. Made the mistake of taking my clothes off before climbing over the fence, and then the water was freezing, so climbing back over afterwards was pretty embarrassing. Worst thing is, I knew it was stupid as I was doing it.”

It took her a beat to understand what had happened. “So why did you do it?”

“Same reason boys and men ever do stupid things they know they shouldn’t: to impress a girl.” Michael’s steps faltered slightly, which he seemed to catch from the corner of his eye. She saw him clench his fists, his lip twitch, but he said nothing.

They walked on for a bit in silence, until he spoke again. “I don’t suppose Sarek told you how we were supposed to do this?”

“No. That’s not his way.”

“Why do Vulcans always do this? Make everything so hard?”

“They would say that for them, the easier way has led their people into much greater harm.”

“Fair enough.” He directed her towards a small grassy mound. “I read your and Lieutenant Saru’s reports on what happened in that other universe, about the other Gabriel Lorca, his deception. What happened with Ash Tyler. You’ve been through a hell of a lot. More than is fair. For that I am sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t say it was.” She looked up at him. The mirror Lorca had often shown her understanding, but the blue eyes she was looking into now were shining with warmth and kindness. “Will you sit with me?”

Michael looked around; there were no benches nearby, so he clearly meant sitting on the grass. She nodded and they sat on the ground, Lorca with his arms around his pulled-up knees, Michael with her legs crossed. She became aware that he looked awkward and seemed to be pondering something difficult, his lip twitching again.

“This is difficult for you, too, sir, isn’t it? Why?”

“Because I don’t even know how to begin to explain why it is difficult. This -” Lorca gestured at the sky then at her and back at himself. “- This kind of thing isn’t my forte at all. Not one for philosophy or poetry, never been. But after everything I have seen lately… There are things I wanna tell you but I don’t think you’re gonna like it. I know that because I don’t like it, either. Because while I know it to be true, I don’t understand why and that really pisses me off.” He looked at her. “Do you believe in destiny, Michael?”

He had been vetted, tested. There was no doubt this was the Gabriel Lorca that belonged in this universe. To all intents and purposes, he was a stranger to her. So what did it mean that he used the same words as his predecessor?

“I’m going to have to get used to that look. Right?” he interrupted her thoughts.

“What look?”

“The one you’ve got on your face right now, when I say or do something he did.”

“And how much do you know about that?”

“Sarek told me the other guy did a lot of good things for you, how much you trusted him. So I’d have understood if you’d punched me the first time you met me.”

Michael shook her head. “No. No, never. If anything… I just want to say sorry.”

“Sorry? You? What the hell could you have to say sorry for?”

“Because when Emperor Georgiou killed him, he reached for me. He was dying and he reached for me. And I stepped away from him. But I know now that all the things he did for me… they were real. He saved my life, in so many ways. I should have saved his. I tried - but not hard enough. And at the end, the one thing I could have done for him…. I didn’t.”

“Your other Captain… He was in love with you, wasn’t he?”

Anger welled inside her at the thought that Sarek would have shared something so private, yet again she reminded herself that is exactly what she needed. A few months ago she would have been able to ride this out, focus on the work, but she was exhausted and recognised that it would be better to let something out before the dam burst altogether.

“Sarek didn’t need to tell me that,” Lorca continued, as though he’d read her thoughts. “If there is one thing I have learned from all my travels, it’s that there is always a somewhere and somewhen with a Gabriel Lorca who loves a Michael Burnham.”

**

Nice job, Gabe. Really smoothly done.  

Michael stared at him, looking appalled,then stood up. “I think this conversation is taking a very inappropriate turn, Captain.”

Lorca sighed, then stood as well. “You asked me why this was difficult for me, Commander. I think I’ve just told you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t believe in destiny, either. But you’re a scientist, right? If you carry out the same experiment, with the same elements, in the same conditions - what happens, over and over?”

She frowned. “The same results.”

“The same results. It’s not destiny - it’s probability, that’s all.”

“But the conditions are not the same. The mirror universe - we called it that because as far as we can tell it was the opposite of everything we know. So how could it have turned out the same for our counterparts?”

“Because the conditions were the same - for our counterparts. They lived in the same universe. They were changed in the same ways. But they remained aligned with each other.”

“So what are you saying? That people… that consciousness… moves on some kind of curve, or spectrum?”

“Honestly? It’s like I said, I don’t understand it myself. I can only tell you what I saw.”

Michael crossed her arms. “And what exactly did you see?”

“You returned from the mirror universe and ended the war with the Klingons about three months ago. I was found in this universe about two months ago. You probably know that I ended up travelling through multiple universes. What you may not know is that I was gone far longer than a few months. I was gone for about three years.”

“Three years? But how is that possible?”

“The network travels through time as well as space.”

“How did you travel through the Network?”

“I don’t know. At least not exactly. Which is why it took me so long to get back here. But now I’m going to tell you something I haven’t told anyone. The reason I was gone for so long is because that’s how long it took me to figure out why I kept travelling. And that reason… is you, Michael.”

Her eyes widened then turned darker, more guarded. It was an expression he was familiar with and the sensation was uncomfortable. Of course his counterpart would have felt something for this Michael. Lorca understood now what home meant. That’s how it must have felt to him, finding this Michael after his had died.

“There are different ways to travel between parallel universes. Mostly it has been accidental. When the Mirror Lorca travelled here, I didn’t end up in his universe. Somehow, I was dragged into the Mycelial Network. And when that happened, I think it knew I did not belong where I ended up, probably because my presence in the new universe - it was like a pothole in a road. Or a short-circuit. Wrong connections being made. Right piece, wrong jigaw.”

“If that’s the case, why did you not keep hopping continuously? From what I have heard, you stayed in some universes longer than others.”

“When you are doing a jigsaw, you only know two pieces don’t fit together when you try to put them together. So yeah, it took me a long time, until I realised that I only ever jumped from one universe into another when I met one of your counterparts. As soon as we… connected  -” he made a fizzing sound, mimicked an explosion with fingers “- the Network knew it wasn’t right. It’s just that sometimes it took me a long time to find the other you.”

Michael was silent for a moment. “What do you mean, connected?” she asked.

“The connection you have with your father Sarek. Through his katra. I can only guess that maybe what the Vulcans can do on some level is tap into the Network and that is how they connect telepathically, do their mind-melding. Human beings can’t connect in the same physical, tangible way but I think on some levels we still do connect. So when I made an emotional connection to another Michael, the Network knew it wasn’t right, because it should have been.”   

He could practically see her working her way through multiple thoughts at once. “If there’s an infinite number of universes, you could have been travelling forever.”

“If I hadn’t realised what I needed to do, what I could do, yeah.”

“And what was that?”

“I looked for you, Michael. When I was in the Network, I thought of home. I thought of you, what I knew about you. And I found you.” He smiled, ever so faintly. “You walked away from me a few times. But eventually you took my hand. You brought me home.”

“The dreams…” Tears sprung in her eyes, and he felt some in his, too. “I had this dream…” Lorca nodded. “And then 3 days later we heard you’d been found… How could I not see it -”

“Why would you, Michael? It doesn’t make any real sense even to me.”

“What does it mean? That we’re some kind of… The Vulcans would call it ‘bonded.’”

“I’ll try not to take the look of horror on your face personally,” Lorca said. “I told you earlier that I didn’t like it, either. There was someone, many years ago… Balayana. I loved her, I was going to marry her. But she died. I thought that was it for me. I’d met the love of my life and I’d lost her, because shit happens. To find that there is someone else…” He paused, still surprised it was so difficult for him to talk about.     

“I’m sorry.” Her expression softened. When he sat back on the grass, she joined him, too. “This is all very… complicated.”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe…” She let out a long breath. “Maybe it would be best if I transferred to another ship.”

“Is that what you want?”

“It would be easier. Would it not?”

“Someone once told me that easier could lead you to greater harm.”

Michael raised an eyebrow at him. “I am not Vulcan.”

“Hard to tell right now with that face you’re pulling.”

She smiled and, he could tell, almost laughed. Yes, it was complicated. But if this had been the first time he’d met her, or even remained in this universe and been assigned to the Discovery, it would have appeared very simple to him. The pull he felt towards her was unmistakable.

“Where does that leave us?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know you. You don’t know me. Maybe we will only be friends. Maybe not. What I do know is that, at some level, the universe knows we belong together, in one way or another.” And you know that, too, he wanted to add. Because you felt something for the other Lorca. That connection. But there was no point pushing her. She’d already followed him a long way.

Instead Lorca reached for Michael’s hand, covering it with his own, gently closing his fingers around hers. After a beat, he felt her thumb gently stroking him.

And he knew he was home.

END.

[ussarchangel]

Kneel, Part 1

Kneel

@anakinskvwalkcr

USS Archangel Fic Exchange

These are her prompts: 1. emperor michael/consort lorca, preferably with a power imbalance and a whipped, adoring lorca 2. touch & intimacy, accidental or not (preferably prime michael/mirror lorca but i’m not picky) 3. jealousy & possessiveness ratings: any please don’t include: romantic lorca/cornwell or lorca/landry, modern au, non-con

                                               Prologue

This world is different.

The federation does not exist. Democracy is a failed ideal whose demise has given birth to anarchy, now controlled by unflinching absolutism.

 We are called the Empire. We rule with authority, control with force. Those who oppose us are destroyed.

There is no compromise here, only submission.

Those who choose not to submit, are destroyed. There are no exceptions.

[ussarchangel]

Kneel, Chapter 5 & 6

For @anakinskvwalkcr​ the @theladyfangs​ filled prompt:  emperor michael/consort lorca, preferably with a power imbalance and a whipped, adoring lorca 

Part 5

He believed in destiny. His own. Strange, how that worked out. Maybe not according to his plan. But surely, she was always a part of it.

 He’s surprised and not.

 Not surprised at all by her ability to carve a place for herself, here. He knew all along that she could. There was never a doubt in his mind. What he did question, was whether she would.

 It was written all over her file. A fellow survivor.

 First, the death of her parents. Then the bombing at the Vulcan learning center that nearly killed her. The mutiny for a cause she believed in, but one that led to the death of the woman she loved. This Michael, like the Terran one, was determined to live.

 She’s never spoken of what led to her choice. All he knows is that she made one.

They all went for the sword at once. Michael got there first.

For a moment, he hesitated, watching as she leveled the blade at him. His hands were up. A glance toward Georgiou and saw her gloating, even then.

“Michael…”

“You’re depraved.” She cut him down with her words. And he knew exactly what Georgiou must have said. Nothing he could do to really counter it, either. Some was true. A lot of it really. But not everything was that simple.

“Do it, Michael,” Georgiou said. “End this foolishness. And come back to my side. This is your home, too.”

Maybe it was that. Michael has never said what it was. But the next thing he knew, the blade turned. And Georgiou was cast down into the mycelial abyss .

It shocked him.

Shocked his followers as well.

 For a moment, there was silence as they all looked at each other, each weighing what to do next.

The Emperor had fallen.

Maybe it was destiny after all that forced him to his knees before her. Destiny, that made him pledge fealty to her.

And the others followed by example.

Michael once said she made her own path.

Later, he held her close to his chest as she grieved. They were alone in a guarded room—the room of her other, on the bed he used to make love to that woman in. He dared not tell Michael this. Dared not betray her confidence any further by what he knew of her other self.

“I’ve killed her twice,” she said.

“No.” He lovingly stroked her hair. “You’ve become what you were meant to be.”

“I’m not built for this. It’s not me.”

He disagreed. And he’d told her that.

“ALL of this, Michael. You were born to be a queen.”

Part 6

His followers are loyal to him. He is loyal to her. But each side watches the other warily.

No one dares move against Emperor Burnham. They all know her reputation. Now, she is nearly mythical. Butcher of the Binary Stars. The angel that rose from the dead. The prodigal daughter. The new Emperor.

Michael tells Gabriel she doesn’t want this. That she wants to go home. To HER universe.

He knows she can’t. But doesn’t tell her. If it makes her feel better he allows her to believe it. To believe that she’s just assuming a role until she can escape. He doesn’t dare break her illusion.

Lieutenant Landry breaks it for her.

Gabriel should have seen this coming.

It is with genuine sadness he learns Landry is dead, by Michael’s hand no less.

A quick tally of her body count so far—Connor, Georgiou, Landry. Not to mention those killed in the firefight. That’s just in this universe. There are others in the place she came from. Where Michael goes, death follows.

She will claim it was all self-defense. But Lorca knows better. She’s very, very good at killing. Both Michael Burnhams are.

He finds her, in his quarters now, sitting on the edge of his bed, head down.

“Is that all there is for me, here?”

He knows what she’s saying. All the death. He has to tell her there’s more to come.

“If you want to stay alive,” he says firmly. “Then someone must be punished for Landry’s insubordination. She was my battalion. My responsibility. ”

Michael looks at him, understanding what he’s alluding to, an expression of horror coming across her face.

“NO! I won’t. Not you, too.”

“You need to set an example,” he says, voice firm.  “Georgiou set an example. Even I have set an example. You can’t be challenged again. Neither of us can afford that.”

“But I NEED you…alive.”

The last word is nearly an afterthought. The first four are said with a greater intensity.

 “Perhaps…” Lorca tells her hedgingly, kneeling to bring his face close to hers,  the plan already forming, “there is another way.”

.

.

Physical pain has never bothered him. A by-product of growing up on Terra Prime, his own life has been little but that. But Michael is another story.

“You WILL do this.” He’s slowly taking off his armor. The silver breastplate clatters to the floor. Outside his quarters, guards wait to take him into custody. They will not enter until she gives the order. She’s not even supposed to be here, right now.

One of the first things he did was teach her how to navigate the hidden corridors. The other Michael had grown up with them—this Michael learns quickly. Especially the passages that lead between their rooms. Unlike other Michael… this one doesn’t share his bed. He’s not touched her since the time at the prison. Even then it was carefully orchestrated. Limits set. Boundaries clearly explained and outlined. It was clinical. Purposeful.

Now, she stands, resplendent in gold and white. A personal choice—to delineate herself from her other. Her boots are gold. Her breastplate is as well. She wears the rings the other Michael did. Save for one, which she’s not yet put on. She’s tall. Proud. He’s pleased to see that. The tears shed initially are long gone, and he can see the queen, the emperor, Michael is becoming—even if she does not, as yet.

He silently hands her the weapon of his destruction.

 The handle is hard, the tails long, intricately woven. Heavy. Soon to be soaked with his blood.

Michael looks at it, then at him. Eyes sad, but she says nothing. Just turns, and leaves.

Lorca takes off the jacket, then his shirt, and settles down on his bed cross-legged to wait until the guards come to him. A moment of quiet to steel himself.

 [K1]At first I thought you meant she killed them, LOL

 [K2]reactor

[ussarchangel]

A Marriage of Convenience

@ellethom1​ was my recipient. Of her three prompts I chose this one: “3. AU: Medieval (cause I am a GOT nut)”. And then because I’m not very sensible I decided to make this a multi-chapter, arranged marriage AU, because what else would you do. It’s not medieval so much as fantasy inspired by some very shallow research into 11th century Spain. 

Chapter 3

Sight Unseen

As soon as her waist-length hair washed, oiled and braided Michael sent Sylvia to pack two days worth of food for herself, Sylvia of course and Oweskun. As well as a plain tent, sleeping pallets, stools, and cushions.

Michael, with Sylvia and Oweskun for companions, rode out in the late morning traveling along Captain Lorca’s route. They rode well into the afternoon before reaching an encampment where others had turned out to watch the progress of first the captain and then the queen.

It was entirely informal. A Brewer woman had set up a tent, and the smell of roasting meets and other cooking filled the air, while people crowded around others playing what looked like some kind of kick ball game. The people knew who she was of course, but none approached her directly.

Sylvia, Oweskun and two others set up her tent. It was large enough for the three of them and once inside Michael refreshed herself with cloths soaked in cinnamon oil before trading her riding gear for a clean kirtle and a light-weight dress of soft pink cotton with embroidery in white, silver, and green.

As frustrated as she was with the situation Michael’s vanity would not allow her to meet her future husband without adornment. She had Sylvia, and Oweskun dress her simple braids with white and silver ribbons, and she’d selected jewelry pink opal earrings that had been her mother’s and part of her inheritance along with a matching necklace.

Thus dressed she let them makeup her face khol to make the eyes wider, a stain for her lips and a shimmering powder so that lent her face a gentle glow.

Once she’d gotten changed they joined the others settling on the stool they’d brought with a table and playing cards to wait for Captain Lorca.

Ngle nobles considered themselves apart from the people. The houses of Qush never forgot that while they were the chosen, blessed with God’s grace it was only that which set them apart and so they moved freely and easily amongst the people.

Even so the men and women playing kickball suddenly got louder and started playing harder. The brewer-woman tasted her beer and proclaimed it her finest batch. While the cook proclaimed today’s venison as the most tender he’d ever eaten.

“You have to acknowledge them,” Oweskun said at last.

“I know. Come ladies let us take a tour.”

Michael spoke with the athletes complimenting their performance and prowess. She sampled both the beer and mead to the delight of a beaming brewer-woman and finally ate both venison and quail along with saffron potatoes, cooked greens and a dessert of a fluffy soft bread with cinnamon and sugar and strawberry jam, a simple and satisfying supper.

Tour of the encampment completed Michael returned to her seat along with Sylvia and Oweskun.

Oweskun had cloths for her to clean her hands ready right away and candied lemon slices for fresh breath.

Michael requested dancing, and music for entertainment and people produced drums and other instruments. It would have been nice to disappear into her tent and read for a bit but the dancing and music were enjoyable, and Michael found herself starting to relax. It was a pleasant afternoon the sun shone, the breeze was gentle, and the air was filled with the sounds of her people’s laughter and happiness. She even joined a few dances herself.

It was all so pleasant and relaxing that she’d nearly forgotten the reason she was there until a lone Ngle rider was sited on the road.

End Chapter 3 

So chapters will be published over the week,three tomorrow and then another three on probably Wednesday and Friday.

[ussarchangel]

A Marriage of Convenience

@ellethom1​ was my recipient. Of her three prompts I chose this one: “3. AU: Medieval (cause I am a GOT nut)”. And then because I’m not very sensible I decided to make this a multi-chapter, arranged marriage AU, because what else would you do. It’s not medieval so much as fantasy inspired by some very shallow research into 11th century Spain. 

Chapter 2

Traditions

“So my lady I have this gossamer red gown, this soft pink or white shot through with gold.”

Michael pressed her lips into a firm line, nostrils flaring. Each gown was beautiful of course, but the gown was supposed to be made especially for the wedding ceremony, designed with the groom and his family in mind while still in keeping with the bride’s taste.

It would show a unity of spirit and purpose in the joining of two families, two houses, and two lives. Another tradition trampled in the queen’s haste to punish her with this wedding.

“Captain Lorca rides under a banner of white and gold does he not?” Michael looked to Lord Sarek and her Aunt Nischa for confirmation.

“He does.”

“Very well the white and gold.”

“Ohh and you can wear your gold and silver necklace and circlet with the sapphires, my lady.” Sylvia grinned and squealed with excitement and Michael glared.

“Sorry, my lady.” Sylvia adopted a more somber tone.  "I am sure you will look very beautiful.“

“It is a good idea see to it that my jewelry is polished and ready in time.”

“Yes, my lady.”

“Aunt Nischa how comes the food preparation?”

Michael turned her attention to the older dark-skinned woman. Though a mother of three the older woman remained unusually lean. She was considered to be a great beauty with her wide dark eyes and pointed chin.

“The breakfast lunch and dinner menus are complete. Cook has some spices saved for your cake; the farms are sending over beer for the men, Maya has gifted us with several cases of her blackberry wine. You’ll need to bless the bull for slaughter; we’ll also have venison, salmon, and goose, mussels in garlic and butter, quiche for breakfast on the first day, smoked salmon on the second day, ham on the second day-”

“-Cook is a blessing,” Michael said halting the flow of words. “Captain Lorca’s rooms? The quarters for the queen?”

“The best room in the house is prepared for the queen. We have not started on the Lord’s chambers, yet the servants will prepare them tomorrow.”

Everyone was silent. The Lord’s Chambers, her fathers chambers. Dust motes hung in the air illuminated by beams of clear, golden sun reflecting off the polished wooden surfaces of the floors and her desk. Normally she loved this space.

Michael clenched her hands into fists.

“How many people travel with the queen?”

“The queen is only traveling with 100 guard and five ladies and gentleman. Her guard will be housed in the hold, and we have room enough for her ladies and gentlemen here. Captain Lorca will arrive in two days time and the queen in four. You will attend temple that morning, the queen will receive your oath of fealty, and your wedding shall be that evening.”

“So very neat.” Michael fought down a wave of anger and grief.

Her father and brother in the ground, not two full months and they were welcoming the queen and having a wedding in have short days. It was indecent.

Michael bit her lower lip; perhaps when this humiliation was over, she could at least return to mourning them.

“How many men does Captain Lorca travel with?”

“Ten.”

Michael clucked her tongue. She did not need to look at Lord Sarek or her Aunt Nischa to know that they wore identical frowns of disapproval at her reaction.

“I have a headache,” Michael declared. “Lord Sarek, Aunt Nischa,” she faced them with her most pleasant expression. “I must retire for the evening I am certain you can handle the rest. Sylvia will attend me.”

“Michael-”

“Of course dear.” Her aunt said cutting off Lord Sarek. “This all must be very tiring for you in such a short span of time.”

“Thank you, aunt, Lord Sarek.”

Michael said and strode from the room without a backward glance Sylvia trailing behind her.

“The preparations seem to be going well My Lady,” Sylvia said even as Michael heard the heavy wooden doors of her study shutting behind her. “You will look like an angel in the white and gold gown. Captain Lorca’s colors are most auspicious.”

“I suppose,” Michael said starting up the grand staircase. Sylvia was her cousin, daughter of her mother’s brother. A handsome man who before being wed at the age of twenty-two fancied himself an Ngle and fathered bastards from the mountains to the coast.

Sylvia despite her Qush blood looked almost entirely Ngle with her freckled pale skin and cascade of red curls. Still, her uncle had prayed over it and the babe accepted as one of them as much as any other child of the blood. She was theirs, illegitimate and strange, but still theirs.

She had been brought to Jenata to be Michael’s companion when they were ten years of age. In spite of that, she still had not learnt to prattle on.

“I do not care about this wedding, Sylvia.” Michael sad opening her bedroom door.

“No, of course, you don’t. I wish I had some news or gossip to distract you My Lady, but the wedding, Captain Lorca it is the only thing anyone is talking about.”

Sylvia’s gossip was generally harmless and of a cheerful nature. Who was getting married, who was expecting, what they’d named their children, what gifts had been given or in its more serious and helpful moments, who needed help caring for an aged parent, whose child was ill. Michael did not mind; it was a good balance to her more sober and serious nature.

“Do you wish to lie down?”

“Yes.”

Sylvia helped her to undress removing her sleeveless caftan, trousers, and pelisse. Her clothing was replaced with a plain kirtle.

“Perhaps some cherry cordial for your headache?”

“Thank you, Sylvia.”

The other young woman filled her cordial glass with a bottle from the cupboard.

“Drink it in one go lady.”

The cordial was sweet and tart all at once with a fiery heat that burned all the way down and the spicy flavor of medicinal herbs. It was followed by a glass of water that she was to sip slowly over the next hour.

Michael got into bed, and Sylvia drew the curtains blocking on the last of the late evening sun.

“We must wash and braid your hair tomorrow.”

“Yes, I suppose.”

“If you like I could send for Ms. Kesska she could cornrow your hair into something for the wedding.”

“No, I’ll wear it loose.  I have headaches so often of late, tight braids will only make it worse.”

“Very well,” Sylvia settled at her bedside. “What you really need my lady is information.”

Michael focused on her cousin for a moment.

“You have said it to me on many occasions lady ignorance is the greater cause of fear, and you know nothing of this man you will marry in five short days.”

“I am not afraid,” Michael’s chin came forward.

“I am your most constant companion my lady and I think if you knew Captain Lorca through something other than tales and gossip you should feel at ease.”

“Well God has not seen fit to grant me a vision of him though I have prayed over it many hours so I must wait.”

“Or tomorrow we may ride out and set up an encampment along his route to get a look at him. Nothing fancy lady of course lady. Just you, me and Oweskun perhaps and any others that chose to join us. Your Aunt Nischa and Lord Sarek have taken care of nearly everything. This would give you an opportunity to meet him in less formal surroundings.”

“Perhaps.” Sylvia stroked her dark hair and behind the fiery heat of the headache remedy came the came a dreamy lassitude that weakened her limbs, lowered her lids and pulled Michael into a deep sleep.

If she’d dreamt Michael could not recall it when she woke in the morning, but she did wake of a singular mind. She must see her would-be husband at the very first opportunity.

End Chapter 2 

[ussarchangel]

USS Archangel Fic Exchange Reveal

Alright friends, Archangel shippers, tomorrow is April 1st and its nearly time for the big reveal. You can begin submiting your gifts to USS Archangel. Submissions will be published over the course of the week. They are published under your name and your recipient will be tagged and notified of their gift. 

Once your recipient has recieved their gift you may publish your fic anywhere you wish however please hold off on dong so until after the 7th to be sure your recipeint has seen their gift. Thank you all for participating; this gonna be great. Feel free,to message us with any questions.

@chromeknickers

[ussarchangel]

He Came From The Other Place

USS Archangel Fanfiction Exchange

The recipient for this story is @theladyfangs

The prompts that I was given were as follows

1) Prime Lorca is in the MU

2) Prime Lorca discovers MU Lorca’s relationship with MU Burnham.

3) Prime Lorca gets to PU and wants to find the woman himself.

I have used them all as it felt like each was a progression for the story. That’s why it is so long. I apologise

This is set after the events of the final episode of the first season of Discovery.

A/N Prime Lorca’s reaction is emotional but I felt that he would feel that way after what he had been through. Also I have based Michael’s reaction to him on the way that she reacted to Ash. I hope that this isn’t OC for the good Lady.

Gabriel woke up and tried to get his bearings. The last time he had felt this strange, he’s found himself on the other side. As he lay there, his mind began to drift.

He found himself back on the Buran in the heat of battle. Suddenly, everything went black. The next thing he knew he was coming to in a battle-scarred shuttle craft. Some of the consoles were sparking, wisps of smoke drifting through the cabin. Something didn’t feel right. Gingerly, Gabriel pulled himself to his feet. As he reached for the med kit, he glanced out of the window. Gabriel was looking at the stars, but he was damned if he could recognise any of them.

“Computer.” Gabriel asked, more in hope than anything else. “What is out current location?”

There was a moment of silence before the reply came. “Current location unknown.”

Gabriel sighed. On the plus side, he was alive. On the downside, he had no idea where he was and he was in need of help. The only thing he could do was send a distress signal and hope that whoever came was friendly.

Grabbing the med kit, he moved to the front of the shuttle and send the signal. He sat back in the seat and began to tend his wounds. He fell in to an uneasy sleep.

This was broken by a burst of a mixture of a message of static. He managed to respond and eventually a ship came to his aid. Eventually, and with some difficulty, he managed to land the shuttle on the planet.

It was at this point that things really began to get strange. As he looked around him, he saw species and races that, in his world, would never had worked together. Vulcans and Klingons. There were other races he didn’t recognise. The atmosphere was distinctly icy. It suddenly got a lot colder as he heard the noise of weapons being drawn behind him. Gabriel had no doubt that they were all being aimed at him.

He watched as a figure walked towards him. It looked like it was Sarek but he couldn’t be sure. Even if it was, he had no guarantee what his attitude towards him would be.

The Vulcan looked at him, his expression unreadable.

“Lorca, how interesting that we have come across you. Now the question is, what should we do with you. The logical answer would be to hand you over to the Emperor. However, there would be no guarantee that we would be safe.”

The being sat next to the Klingon looked at Gabriel sneered and said, “Why don’t we just kill him here and now? That’s what’s going to happen to him if the Emperor gets hold of him. Besides, he’s one of them. They don’t deserve to live.” The creature looked at him in contempt as he drew out his dagger and laid it on the table. “Lorca deserves to die for what he and his disgusting followers have done to us.”

A creature behind him emitted a noise that was halfway between a laugh and a growl. Gabriel turned around in time to see a Klingon with his gun raised, lazily aimed at him. It was obvious from the look on his face that, if he made any false moves, his death was imminent.

Gabriel stood up and braced his hand on the back of his chair. “I don’t know who you think I am but I don’t belong here. I have no idea who the Emperor is. I certainly haven’t hurt anyone here, nor do I have any intention of doing so.” The one he had recognised as Sarek looked at him thoughtfully. “I come from another place where Klingons are at war with us. I’m Captain of a ship called the Buran. At least, I was when I left. I ended up on the shuttle that you found me on. I have no other ship. As CO of the Buran we attacked no ship that didn’t engage us in combat.”

The Klingon looked at him, curiosity in his eyes. “Did you give mercy to any vessel or crew?”

Gabriel looked at him and shook his head gently. “In my world, Klingons neither grant or ask for mercy. However, those under my command would not be allowed to kill for pleasure.” He glared at the one who had spoken. “I can assure you of that!”

Sarek walked over to him and laid his hand on Gabriel’s arm. “I wish to do a mind meld with you. Will you permit me to do so?”

Gabriel nodded. Sarek began the ritual, establishing the mind meld. Eventually the meld was broken.

Slowly he turned to the beings in the room. “While I have to confess that I have no idea how this may have happened, he is telling the truth. This may be Gabriel Lorca but he is not our Lorca.”

The room was filled with the sound of murmuring. This was enough to get him accepted, even if it was unwillingly.

As time went on Gabriel round out more about the universe he was in. It turned out that in this universe it was the humans that were evil. The Emperor was a woman name Philippa Gerogiou. She had a reputation of being an evil woman who showed no mercy. No-one stood in her way and if you did you wouldn’t be there for long. This shocked him, as the only person of that name that he had heard of had been the Captain of the Shenzou. In Gabriel’s world, she had been a person of outstanding character. She was well liked and for a lot of cadets, getting to serve under her captaincy was seen as an honour. He couldn’t imagine her being evil. Of course that was in his universe.

As time went on he managed to find out why the Lorca of this universe was so hated by the Emperor. It appeared that she had a daughter called Michael Burnham. From what he could gather, Georgiou was grooming her to be the next Emperor when the time came. Then she met the Lorca from this universe. This appeared to be the Emperor’s undoing. Although the exact reasons for what she did were unknown, there was something about him that made Michael turn her back on the woman who had looked after and leave with the man. Of course, this didn’t go down well with the Emperor and as result he became her sworn enemy. Gabriel wasn’t sure what the Lorca of this universe felt about Georgiou but he imagined that it wouldn’t be that good.

As the days, weeks and months went by Gabriel began to give up hope of ever making it home. He found himself thinking of Michael Burnham. He wondered what she was like. What was it that Lorca had seen in her? He knew that the Michael in his universe wouldn’t be the same but he found himself wanting to meet her. He wondered if she would have an effect on him.

Gabriel smiled as he thought, ‘After all, it’s been a while!’

Even though Gabriel was certain that he would never get home, he decided that if he did, he would make it his job to find her. (No matter how far fetched it seemed to him, it gave him something to striver for. And right now, he needed that more than ever.)

After that he found a place for himself among those who were standing against the empire. It wasn’t at all easy. Often he was sent of to scavenge for information, supplies and to see if he could find anyone who would be willing to join them. Mostly he flew as part of a team using the ships that the renegades still had working. During that time, what passed as their team of engineers managed to get his shuttle working. Gabriel knew that it would never be the same as it was when it left the Buran, but to him it didn’t matter. It was his ship and not only that, it at least meant that, hopefully, he would be able to lead sorties.

The day came when he was able to take a test flight. When he came back from the flight he knew that something was wrong. As Gabriel flew in to the atmosphere he could see the evidence of the carnage. Everything had gone. He had no doubt that this had been the work of the Emperor. Again he was lost, homeless and his life had lost what little meaning it had in this universe. Taking his ship up in to space, he was so lost in thought that he barely noticed the fact that he had been spotted by unknown vessels. He wasn’t sure if they were friendly or not, but he sure as hell wasn’t planning to stick around to find out.

This was when all hell broke loose. He was surrounded by weapons fire and he thought that he about to die. Suddenly there was a bright light. Gabriel was thrown around the ship and there was nothing that he could do about it. The ship was creaking and he thought it was going to break up. As suddenly as it started everything calmed down. As this point he lost consciousness.

Gabriel came back to the here and now and looked around him. Although he had no idea what he’d been through, he knew that he’d survived it. He tried to move and it hurt. While he was sure that the ship was still airtight, he knew that he didn’t have much in the way of supplies and rations. He knew that the only thing he could do was to send out a distress signal. Either he was going to find help or he was going to die.

‘Great. You’ve really done it this time Lorca.’ He thought as he managed to pull himself up in to the seat and managed to send the message.

The bridge of the Discovery seemed really quiet now that the war with the Klingons was over. Michael stood at her post and looked down at the uniform and her rank insignia and felt strange. It was odd to her that she had been at the beginning of the war as well as at the beginning of the end of it. She still couldn’t get used to that fact that Captain Gabriel Lorca had been a person from another universe who was hell bent on taking power from the Emperor of that universe who turned out to be their version of Philippa Georgiou. Michael also knew that she had been blinded by her feelings about her Captain Georgiou and that fact that she caused her death, that she’d believed that there was some good in the woman. As a result she had brought her through to this world. Given that she’d nearly blown up Qo-nos and was now free to roam this universe she could only hope that hadn’t been a mistake.

“Captain, We’re getting a weak signal.” The officer looked towards the Captain. “It’s a distress signal from an unknown source.”

Suru acknowledged him. “Open a communication channel.” The officer nodded to him.

“This is Captain Suru of the Federation vessel Discovery. Please identify yourself.”

The bridge once again fell silent as they awaited the reply.

The signal was crackly and the voice sounded weak. “My name is … from the Buran. …. lost .. Need help urgently.”

The Officer’s fingers flew over the screens in attempt to get the message through clearer. “I’ve done what I can to clear up the channel. It will be clearer but I’m not sure how much.”

“Thank you.” Suru looked at the screen and tried again. “This is Captain Suru of the Federation vessel Discovery. Could you please repeat the message.”

The response was still full of static, but this time the words were clear enough to be heard and understood.

“My name is Gabriel Lorca, Captain of the Buran. I have been lost for some time. I need help urgently.”

Suru wasn’t sure of what he was hearing. “Could you please repeat message.”

The voice came over the bridge speakers. The response was exactly same. The bridge crew looked at each other in shock. Paul rubbed the place on his arm where the spore drive mechanism was and looked over at Michael, surprise evident on his face. She looked back at him with a confused look on hers. She’d assumed that Captain Lorca from this universe had been destroyed with the Buran and the rest of its crew. Apparently not, and right now she had no idea how she felt about it.

Captain Suru made arrangement for Gabriel ‘s shuttle to be brought on board the discovery. The shuttle was met by a medical team and one security guard.

As the medical team worked on him, Gabriel thought about Michael Burnham and his wish to find her.

Even though his voice was horse, he managed to speak. “I’m looking for Michael Burnham. I wonder if you’ve heard of her.”

The two medical staff looked at each other. One of them spoke. “Never mind that for now. We need to get you to sickbay.” Gabriel started to struggle. “Now now. Just relax. Everything will be okay”

“But I … I have to find her.” The nurse gave him an injection and slowly he drifted in to an uneasy sleep.

The security guard looked over at her. “Did he ask to speak to Commander Burnham?” The nurse nodded. “Okay. I’ll let her know.”

Michael was sitting in the canteen having a drink. Right now she felt so confused. She’d watched Gabriel Lorca die. At the time she had felt no remorse. He had hurt her and the crew. He had lied to them to get the Discovery to the mirror universe. That lie had nearly cost Paul Stamets his life. And in her heart she believed that he had also played a part in Hugh Culber’s death too. Not only that, she’d believed in the man and, for reasons that she couldn’t fathom, that had hurt her most of all. Of course this wasn’t that Lorca but the fact that he sounded like him brought it all back.

The thing that confused her most was the way that she’d felt about the man that she’d known as Ash Tyler. It shouldn’t have happened. At least not to her. But it did. After all, she’d been brought up as a Vulcan. That meant that she was supposed to be able to submerge her feelings and yet, Ash had managed to get under her skin. She realised that she had fallen for him. That was why when she found out that, underneath it all, he was the Klingon Voq, it felt like that ultimate betrayal.

“At least I was able to make peace with him before he left with L’Rell.” She thought, as she took another sip of her drink.

It was at this point that Michael became aware of the person heading towards her. “Hello Lieutenant, “She could see how uncomfortable he looked. “Is something wrong?”

David swallowed hard as he prepared to answer her. “The man in the shuttle, the one who says he Gabriel Lorca.” He paused for a moment as Michael looked at him intently. “He asked if you were aboard the ship. I think he wants to speak with you”

Michael looked at him in surprise.

“No one told him that you were here. The nurses managed to deflect his question easily. If you wished it I’m sure that we could make sure he doesn’t find out who you are”

She looked at him and smiled. “No that’s alright. I’d like to meet the man. It …. it would be interesting. He’s in sickbay?”

The Lieutenant nodded. With a last swig of her drink she made her way to sickbay. She was interested in seeing this man. There was a part of her wanted to see how different he was to the man that had betrayed the crew of the Discovery and, given the fact that he had been the only one to survive from the Buran, there was a distinct chance he’d betrayed them too.

Gabriel lay on a bio-bed in sickbay. He was dressed in the clothes that they had given him. Michael walked over, stood by the bed and looked at him. Even though he was resting, there seemed to be a sadness about him. She wondered what had happened to him. Had he seen the horrors that she had seen or had his time in the mirror universe been worse? Without thinking, she ran a finger down his cheek, feeling the stubble that was on his face.

“So you are Michael Burnham. I can see why he fell for her, especially if she looked like you.” Michael listened. His voice sounded like the Gabriel Lorca that she had known, and yet, there was something different about it.

“I’m sorry. Where are my manners? I am Gabriel Lorca former Captain of the Buran. I ended up in a different universe and found my way back again.” Michael couldn’t help looking at him as he continued. “While I was on the other side I heard about the Lorca that was there and one of the reasons that the Emperor didn’t like him. Your name was mentioned. So I promised myself that if I made it back I would find you.”

Michael looked surprised. “I’m not her.”

“Guess what I’m not him,” Gabriel smiled and his eyes seemed to light up. Then something seemed to cross his mind. “Do you know what happened to my ship?”

Michael looked at him, sorrow showing on her face. “I’m sorry. The Buran was destroyed. He was the only survivor. I … “Her voice died in her throat.

She didn’t voice the rest of the thought as Gabriel tried to school his features. As he lay there it suddenly struck him that he’d been a victim of the other Lorca too. What was worse, was the fact that he had lost his ship and entire crew because he was the other Locator’s twin.

“God … I … I … they all died because of me?” The question hung in the air.

“No. No Gabriel. They died because of him. They died because he wanted this ship. He said that he wanted to fight the Klingons. I thought he meant he wanted to fight them here. I was wrong. We were all wrong. He wanted the ship so he could pursue his own evil plans.” She took his hand in hers.

She knew that this was the Lorca from this world. It was obvious that he cared about the ship and crew that he had lost. Not like the other one. He was cold and ruthless. He would do anything to get what he wanted. He’d proved that when he’d managed to persuade Paul to do all those jumps. He’d managed to fool them all.

As she looked at the man lying on the bed beside her. His blue eyes were sad. Any sparkle that had been there had gone. Without thinking, she leant down and gave him a gentle kiss on his lips. He responded immediately, deepening the kiss. Eventually, the need for breath meant that they had to break apart. As they did so, Gabriel managed to stand up. Placing one hand around Michael’s waist, he cupped her face with the other. He gazed at her adoringly.

Michael returned his gaze. After the other Lorca and Ash, she knew this was different. The man that stood before her, the man who called himself Gabriel Lorca was real. The kiss was real. She could feel it. This was better than anything she’d experienced before.

Michael spoke before she could change her mind. “Kiss me again Gabriel. Please.”

Gabriel didn’t need to be asked twice. He held her closer as he closed the gap between their faces and began to kiss her. At first it was gentle kisses. Then the kisses deepened and became more urgent. Gabriel licked her lips seeking entry. Michael opened her mouth to let him in. His tongue traced the inside of her mouth as if he was mapping every contour. When they broke this kiss it was obvious to the two of them that something had happened.

For the first time since she’d met him, Michael saw him look truly happy.

“I’m glad that I found you Michael Burnham You are a beautiful woman.” Gabriel couldn’t help smiling as he held her close.

Michael returned his smile as she snuggled in to his embrace. “I’m glad you found me too Gabriel.”

Gabriel knew that this might not last forever. Hell, it might only be this one moment. But he didn’t care. Right now he felt safe and secure. He had found his Michael. And right now that was all that mattered

END.

[ussarchangel]

A Marriage of Convenience

@ellethom1 was my recipient. Of her three prompts I chose this one: “3. AU: Medieval (cause I am a GOT nut)”.

Chapter 4 

The Sin of Ambition

The Qushites had arrived from Tifry nearly 200 years ago. A tall, dark-skinned people they'd landed on the Algheny coast to find a land wrecked by series of long bitter winters and then a strange pox. The Qushites, having some immunity to the pox as well as knowledge of treatment had gathered as many of sick Algheny as they could and taken them to the long-abandoned Jenata fort, nursing and saving those that they could comforting and then burying the rest.

The surviving Algheny too poor and battered and leaderless had welcomed the Qushites amongst them, intermarrying with the strangers who'd slowly spread out from the Algheny coast as far the ice-blocked mountains.

The Qushites having ties to Tifry had set up trade with the nations there and built up a series of thriving nation states.

They were known for having a strong work ethic as well as a strong sense of community and valuing justice above all else. They also introduced several important innovations in architecture, produced beautiful fabrics in a variety of rich reds, yellows, and pinks and were famed for knowledge of medicine and poetry. It was no more than a packet, Immigrants in Erloda, the Qush, the Caults and Baudier, volume 1.

Of course, none of that told him anything about the Lady Michael herself. Lorca closed the slender book.

Captain Lorca put the book in his satchel and surveyed his camp, his handful of men sat relaxing in the grass eating, playing dice or cards. They'd chosen to follow him into….He still was uncertain what exactly to call it.

In three days time, he and the Lady Michael of Qush would be wed. The following day they would swear oaths of fealty to Queen Philippa, the II of her name, becoming the fourth Duke and Duchess of Jenata.

Too many it was a promotion or reward a gift from the queen to a loyal favorite. Captain Lorca remained unconvinced. His bride was a woman about whom he knew almost nothing save a few of her likes and dislikes, that she was mourning her father and brother and who in all likelihood would resent him. What he needed was information, with information he could strategize.

"Lord Sarek, you've known the Lady Michael all of her life."

"Indeed I have captain. Her parents, God rest their souls, were two of my dearest friends. The Duke suffered greatly after the loss of his wife."

"I'm sorry for the loss of your friend."

"Thank you, captain."

"What is the Lady Michael like?"

Lord Sarek had stared at him as if he could pierce his soul, but he refused to back down or be intimidated by that intense Vulcan gaze.

"More intelligent than most, courageous, serious, she has a quick wit, and does not fear to speak her mind, traits Ngles do not value in their women."

He hadn't know whether to be offended or pleased at the last.

"I did not gain Queen Philippa's favor by condescending to her."

"But it is not the queen you are to marry."

"True enough Lord Sarek." He'd said feeling a bit annoyed. Every noble in the council room had glared at him as if it were their own daughter the queen have given him in marriage. He understood the desire to protect the girl, doubly so given the circumstances, but he had not contrived this situation.

"Was that not done for your vaunting ambition?"

Captain Lorca felt his jaw clench; there it was the accusation that ambition to a higher station in life was a character flaw. That if one desired to step out of the station assigned them by birth it was a failing. Nevermind that some were born to wealth and power while others were born to poverty and misery or that some noble ancestor in the distant past had been ambitious, had dared. As if he had not proven himself several times over both in the field and in court.

Still, the Vulcan would be his neighbor, was by all accounts a dear friend of his future wife. If he could not improve the Vulcan's opinion of him, he could take pains not to worsen. Lorca shoved his annoyance aside and considered what he knew of the Vulcan people, and a flare of insight, the instinct, and intuition that had always served him so well came to him.

"It was done because she is our queen. It was done because it was my mother who taught me to read and write, who to sum and figure, it was my mother who secured my officer's commission."

The Vulcan reacted, with nothing so strong as a full expression on the face, but an arch of the brow a slight tilt of the head.

He did not speak often of his mother, she'd been dead for nearly twenty years now, and in his thirty-five years of life, he'd met none like her. But she was unusual to Ngles, a Cault and like her son she did not know her place.

"You've called out my flaw of ambition, my sin of low birth, what comes next Lord Sarek? The subtle threat." His hand went to his hip seeking the hilt of the sword he did not wear.

"It seems captain that you are as sharp as your reputation suggest."

"More."

"Know this captain I am a gentleman, and gentleman do not make threats, we make promises. Good day captain."

He did not yet know if he had succeeded or failed in his first encounter with the Vulcan, but his gut had never yet failed him before.

"Captain," Ash Tyler came hurrying back to the camp just then wearing a bright grin. "There is a Qushite encampment in a clearing no more than two hundred yards from here, and you are doubly blessed sir the Lady Michael is with them."

"She is?"

"It would seem that she is as eager to meet you are you are to meet her. I can say captain the tales do not do justice to her beauty."

Lorca frowned.

"What is it, sir?"

"I do desire the meet the Lady Michael, but not quite yet. I am looking for information."

"Of course sir. She does not yet know what you look like sir."

He weighed his options, a moment before unbuckling his sword belt and trading it for a knife.

"I will go alone to the Qushite camp. You men double back to the fork and take the old road to Jenata Palace. I shall meet you there sometime tomorrow."

"Yes, captain."

End Chapter 4

[ussarchangel]

Kneel, Chapter 4

Part 4

For @anakinskvwalkcr​ the @theladyfangs filled  prompt:  emperor michael/consort lorca, preferably with a power imbalance and a whipped, adoring lorca 

“Hold still.”

 Lorca circles the creature in chains, disdainfully observing the prisoner.

 "I liked you, once,” he tells Ash/Voq?

 “I thought you had grit. You reminded me of myself, when I was younger. Dumb as hell. Fawning. Pitiful. I gotta say…I was WAY younger. Did you honestly think she would ever be yours?”

 Before him, Ash/Voq, lets out a guttural, Klingon sound.

 “Humans are…jealous,” the hybrid says, voice heavy, thick with the natural accent. “Her anger is understandable. But yours however, Captain Lorca…” he cocks his head to the side so that he can look on the older man, searching him. “You wanted her.” He laughs again. “’Bring her back in one piece…or don’t come back at all’ … Isn’t that what you told me once?”

Lorca hears his own words parroted back at him.

 “Do you want to know what she felt like?” Ash/Voq licks his lips, continuing. “How about what she tastes –”

 Done. He’ll beg Michael’s pardon later.

 Lorca takes two steps toward Ash, and reaches down, snapping his neck. It makes a sharp, cracking sound.

 The body slumps forward, lifelessly.

 “Something you’ll never get to do again,” he says, wiping his hands on his pants before stepping over the body.

 “Clean this shit up,” Lorca instructs the guards, walking out of the cell.

[ussarchangel]

Kneel, Chapter 7

For @anakinskvwalkcr​ the @theladyfangs​ filled prompt:  emperor michael/consort lorca, preferably with a power imbalance and a whipped, adoring lorca

Part 7

What remains of the former Emperor’s court salutes as she enters the throne room, and takes her place on the pillared stand, Georgiou’s sword displayed across one hip, a phaser strapped to her thigh.

“Bring me Gabriel Lorca,” she commands her chief guard—Lieutenant Keyla Detmer. This universe’s Keyla Detmer. Not the woman she once called a friend.

The hall falls silent.

She allows the court to puzzle among themselves about what will soon take place. The anxiety is palpable. But Michael waits, her face schooled in a disinterested, slightly haughty not-quite scowl. It’s becoming easier by the day. She catches herself. And act. Just an act. Until they find a way back.The doors to the room open and the crowd parts like Moses and the Red Sea, as Lorca is dragged in, and half-thrown/dropped at her feet. His hands are bound. Feet too.

 She hates this. Has seen it before. A hard swallow before she steps down to stand in front of him, but when she speaks, her voice is strong. Firm. Determined.

 “Kneel.”

It’s a struggle, but he does, rising to the floor to his knees, and lowers his head before her.

“Look at me.” He does. Blue eyes becoming dark, like a storm at sea. He’s probably never seen such a sight, she thinks, wondering a moment if Terra even has such moments. Likely not, from what she knows of Earth in this universe. A place corrupted, polluted by greed and ambition, scarred by war, and now, hundreds of years later, not fully healed. All the things these people have missed out on. Their environment influencing their hardened natures. A tragedy.

“YOUR follower attacked me. She was YOUR responsibility,” Michael says, circling him slowly, the staccato click of her boot heels the only sound echoing in the hall.

“YOU will take her punishment.”

The crack of the whip in the air draws the avid glances, gleaming eyes, like the coliseum crowds of ancient Rome.

Michael’s uniform becomes stained with red.

Gabriel does not flinch.

There are many here pleased to see the great General finally put in his place.

Only before her, will Gabriel Lorca submit.

[ussarchangel]

A Marriage of Convenience

@ellethom1 was my recipient. Of her three prompts I chose this one: “3. AU: Medieval (cause I am a GOT nut)”.

Chapter 5

Seen Unknown

"If you were to perform you could get a closer look." Gabriel averted his eyes, and the Qushites chuckled.

"The Lady Michael is beautiful," the second man put in. "One of the great beauties in the land."

The Lady Michael was indeed a great beauty, sitting in her chair like a queen on a throne, the entire encampment arranged around her. Her skin was rosy against her dress, her dark hair dressed with ribbons and beads, she sat bestowing smiles and praise on the people as they entertained her during the twait to see Captain Lorca.

"The Ngle has not seen a greater beauty."

"No," Gabriel added softly.

The Ngle his companions referred to was Captain Lorca, hero of Tramonata and promised husband to the Lady Michael. They did not refer the Bard Edgar, who'd appeared in their midst. Edgar was a familiar role he'd played, one he'd used on more than one occasion to infiltrate enemy territory and gather information.

Music was something he had studied as a child and adolescent, largely to keep himself and his friends entertained during lengthy winters. He was by no means good enough to pass as a bard for any length of time, but for a few hours, a handful of days he would do. People always welcomed entertainment.

Of course, they did not know their new friend and Captain Lorca were one and the same.

One of his new friends who tapped the skin of his drum from time-to-time eyed his lyre.

"Do you know Dona Dona?"

"I do." Captain Lorca smiled it was a Qushite song, but one that was popular everywhere.

"We should play it for Lady Michael."

Gabriel considered a moment.

"We won't put your eye out for a little look."

They laughed at him and with a shrug Gabriel pulled his lyre from its case as the other men produced their instruments tambourine, flute, and drum.

"I see how it is now."

The drummer shrugged.

"Do not mistake us friend someone would have made you welcome we just got to you first. Come let us present ourselves."

The jugglers that had been entertaining Lady Michael departed. They made their way to the front of the crowd and presented themselves.

"My Lady," his companions inclined their heads and Gabriel did the same though not so low as to miss her dark eyes lingering on him. "We would play Dona Dona for you."

"I do enjoy that song, please by all means."

He understood her more readily than his companions her Qushite being more similar to what he'd heard at court.

The drummer started, establishing a beat that was a little faster than one he was used to but one Gabriel was certain he could follow. He joined after a moment and then flute and finally the tambourine. A few people applauded and cheered, others started to dance.  Every now and again Gabriel flicked his eyes to his lady to see her smiling and dancing in her seat. Eventually, though she caught his gaze on her and he turned his attention elsewhere, his focus on the music and the energy of the encampment on making certain he kept up with his companions so as not to embarrass himself.

They finished playing the last notes ending with the lyre, applause went up from the crowd, and in spite of himself, Gabriel's eyes sought Michael who cheered and clapped with enthusiasm.

Song finished they bowed and made way for someone else to play. What Gabriel did not expect as they made their way back to the blanket they'd been camping on was the approach of Lady Michael's red-haired maid inviting him to join them.

[ussarchangel]

It’s writing time!

Soon you will receive your prompts and before you begin writing, there are only a few simple rules to keep in mind:

1. You must remain anonymous until the day of posting. You cannot contact the person you are writing for to ask them what, exactly, they want written. It’s your interpretation of the prompt. Plus, it’ll be a nice surprise. 2. Your fic cannot be shorter than 1,000 words. 3. Your fic must be about Michael Burnham and Gabriel Lorca. 4. Your must have your fic finished and posted by 6 April. Details on submitting fanfics to the blog will be posted before the deadline. For more information in the exchange, check out this link and our FAQ. Also, if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to PM.