Star Trek Discovery / Archer: Couple's Counselling Intention: One-Shot. But, who knows...? Sources: Star Trek: Discovery (season one); Archer. Admiral Katrina Cornwell - Human female Lieutenant Commander Michael Burnham Human female. Adopted by Vulcans at a very young age, after her colony was destroyed. Lieutenant Ash Tyler - Human male Lieutenant Sterling Archer - Human male Lieutenant Lana Kane - Human female. Five Starfleet officers sat on chairs in some spare room aboard the science vessel, USS Discovery. Admiral Katrina Cornwell, the stressed-looking brunette on the chair facing the quartet, was a psychiatrist by trade, pushed into the higher strata of Command by the deaths of dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of more capable peers and superiors at the hands of a resurgent Klingon Empire; and she....she....just needed some ******* downtime to recharge, perhaps engage in what she was trained for, and actually enjoyed, and that was why she had a semi-circle of uncomfortable-looking beings in front of her. "Alright," she opened with a flat tone, bringing up a smile that she did not yet feel, but doing it for the benefits of her patients. "in turn, give your name, rank, position, and command." A slim, swarthy-complexioned male human with bleak eyes, spoke up first, his voice breaking with emotion. "Lieutenant Ash Tyler. No current position, though I was formerly Chief of Security aboard the USS Discovery." He slid his palms along the blue trouser fabric on his lap. The female next to him, spoke up when he stopped. "Lieutenant-Commander Michael-" "Michael?" Echoed the male on her other side, staring side-on at her. "Oh I'm sorry, I thought you were a girl." "She is." The final female countered, punching the speaker gently in the upper arm. "Archer, shut up." "-Michael Burnham." The first woman continued. "Science Officer, USS Discovery." Cornwell felt a stirring of animation at this initial exchange between them. She lifted a hand from her lap and indicated Archer. "Okay, now you." "Thank you." This dark-haired male was in a long-sleeved scarlet top, and black trousers, tucked into polished black calf boots. This was a much brighter attire than the dark blue, with gold or silver side panelling, zippered jackets and trousers, that she and the Discovery crew sported. "Lieutenant Sterling Archer. Chief of Security. USS Archer Vice." He turned to his own partner. "Lana?" "Lieutenant Lana Kane. Away Team leader, and the Security Chief's baby-sitter. USS Archer Vice." Like Archer, she was in red too. Though for her, it was a scarlet, short-sleeved minidress with a slightly flared skirt, and dark semi-opaque tights that went down into dark boots. "Well, you're A.J.'s mother, so you don't really count as her baby-sitter." Archer referenced their baby, Abba-Jean, that she had had with his frozen, um, material. "Not A.J.'s baby-sitter, idiot. Yours." "Hey!" Archer protested. "Hey, yourself." Lana countered. "You don't believe me, check with your mother." A tiny smile graced Cornwell's lips, which Burnham was pleased to note. Of the four 'patients', she felt she was the most in control of the situation, though her Vulcan upbringing, with Ambassador Sarek no less, probably helped. She wondered if the admiral had yet worked out that she was also a patient here. Making five. This session had been Burnham's idea, cooked up with her Kelpian counterpart, Commander Saru, to give Cornwell a chance to unwind. "Okay, settle down." Cornwell instructed with a raised voice. "So why do you need my help? Are your partnerships unstable in some way?" "Well, I have feelings for Commander Burnham." Tyler admitted. "But she-" "-she cannot get past you trying to choke the life out of her." Michael finished. "Out of me." "But that wasn't me, that was Voq!" "Trouble telling twins apart?" Archer guessed. Burnham glanced towards the red-clad security officer. "The Klingons grafted the personality of one of their own, Voq, onto Ash's psyche after he got captured at the Battle of the Binary Stars." "That's a thing?!" Archer shrilled, drawing back from her, staring past her at Tyler. "Well, at least you are still able to call him by his first name, Ash." Cornwell noted gently. "That is a good sign." "You got off lightly." Archer told Michael. "Lana shot me in the foot." "You were arguing with Ray, whilst he was instructing us on how to defuse a bomb." "You also shot me in the leg. And fired a gun next to my ear. Twice." "You did that to me as well!" Lana countered, hotly. "I apologised for that." Cornwell could not let that exchange pass without professional inquiry. "Lana. Why do you shoot Sterling so often?" "You've known him for ten minutes by now, Admiral. Are you saying that you don't want to shoot him?" Michael cupped her hand over her mouth, whispering along the line, "No. Don't encourage her into casual gunplay." It was only mere weeks since Cornwell; Michael's adopted father, Sarek; and Discovery's senior officers had chaired a briefing on the state of the war whilst Discovery had been trapped in a parallel dimension, thanks to the subversive actions of her captain, Gabriel Lorca. She had stared, wide-eyed, as Cornwell had bitten out about being manipulated by Captain Lorca, then discharged a red-lit hand phaser into a bowl of corn chips, vapourising chips and bowl! A quick glance along the table had indicated that even Sarek, despite his typical Vulcan stoicness, had been just one sehlat hair away from ******** himself. The only one of them with the composure to attempt to diffuse her clearly building rage, he had pointed out- "-that Lorca was an imposter from an alternate universe, was not the most obvious conclusion." Yeah, no ****. "The Voq personality has been completely purged." Tyler interjected, bringing the conversation back to himself. "It is just me now." Michael glanced at him, her eyes sad. "I knowww. But obviously you still look like the man who had murder in his eyes, the last time we were almost intimate. I want to forget that...but I can't." "Well, you know," Archer started, "you ought to talk to our Doctor Krieger. He can make you pretty much forget anything." The admiral looked on, recalling that this Krieger was a scientist whom she had personally assigned to help on researching the Klingon cloak that had given their ships a massive tactical advantage in the recent Klingon-Federation War. "Or," Lana opined with a speculative tone. "I could smack you across the head with a frying pan." Cornwell raised a finger. "Ah, as a trained psychiatrist, I have to point out that frying pan-induced mental cures are a myth. They do not work in real life." "Err," Lana raised her own finger. "as someone who has gotten pinned down by a KGB hit squad, whilst Archer thought he was a fry cook named Bob; a frying pan, can sometimes work." "In Lana's defense, she didn't hit me with that in mind." Burnham tried to lean forwards, then realised she would have to uncross her legs to do it to the degree that she wanted, her gaze taking in both the Archer Vice officers. "How are you two still together?" "Mutual affection," Cornwell surmised, "and I suspect, an unhealthy dose of co-dependency." Admiral. Commander Saru's voice cut across the room, amplified by the ship's public address system. We have arrived at Starbase One. Cornwell looked up with a grim smile, to help direct her voice to the hidden microphones. "Good work, Mister Saru. Have you scanned for life signs?" Yes, Admiral. 272 Klingon signatures, so almost no change since we were last here. That last time, Cornwell had arrived at the sprawling space station, hoping to find a bastion of Federation might, over 80,000 Federation citizens, and a sizable cadre of the leadership; and she had been almost broken by what the sensors had found: only 274 life signs, all Klingon. The War was over, the two sides withdrawing to lick their wounds, but this Klingon tribe, House Da'Gorr, according to Burnham, clearly considered the starbase to be war booty or something, despite it being deep within Federation space. Do you still wish to beam aboard? "Stand by, Mister Saru." Cornwell swept her gaze across the quartet. "As you can imagine, I have had it up to here-" She straightened fingers on one hand, and raised it in front of her nose. "-with Klingons. Thank you for agreeing to joining me for a guerilla attack on those that continue to occupy-" Admiral, we are being scanned! Cornwell sighed. "Evasive pattern-" "Serpentine!" Archer called, interrupting her. "Not a real thing, ass-" Lane muttered. Detmer, evasive pattern serpentine. That was the helmsperson being addressed. Yes, Captain. I'll try. Cornwell felt herself being pulled to the left, her chair tilting slightly as well, as the ship started manouvering. She quickly carried on with what she wanted to ask. "Now that we are here, and we know the odds. Almost 250 of them, 5 of us. Do you still wish to do this?" "Anything to prove my loyalty, Ma'am." Tyler shakily nodded. Burnham gave a curt nod, regarding Cornwell with a serious expression. The Admiral looked at Archer and Lana next. "What about you two? You heard the numbers; it'll be dangerous." A clear glint in his eyes, the Archer Vice' Security Chief asked, "Would you say that we would be venturing into a zone of danger?" Cornwell narrowed her eyes, not understanding the exasperated huff from Lieutenant Kane, or Lieutenant Archer's motivation here. It was a clear 'yes' or 'no' response. "Yes, obviously." She hedged. The ship was in imminent danger of being fired upon by a STARBASE of all things, and this man was dancing around the subject. She could see that Kane had crossed her arms under that ample chest of hers, and was glaring sideways at him. "No, but, I mean, how would you phrase that?" "I....the zone would be one of danger?" "No, I mean. Not if you say the...forget it. Never mind." Archer swivelled into Lana's accusatory glare, and pointed a finger up into her face. "And you never mind, and also shut up." Lana looked past him to Cornwell. "As long as you are still fine with us bringing our own gear, old Earth TEC-9s for me, Walther PPKs for Archer-" "I'd actually be okay with a Compression Phaser Rifle." "-we're in for the ride, Admiral." Cornwell nodded and relaxed. "Mister Saru, the mission is still on. We will call you from Transporter Room Two." Very good, Admiral. The End? Notes Archer's favourite catchphrase is "Danger Zone", which is what he is trying to get Admiral Cornwell to say. Exact wording taken from the vid in the post below. Archer once advised an ocelot to evade being shot, by telling it to do "Serpentine!"