Una [Number One] (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} tothestars) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} chances_rpg,@ 2025-04-05 15:58:00 |
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| Entry tags: | star trek: christopher pike, star trek: una chin-riley, ~!game plot: uss enterprise |
LOG: CHRIS & UNA
Who. Christopher Pike & Una Chin-Riley
When. Stardate 202504.05
Where. Captain's Quarters
What. These two are stressed AF
He took a deep breath. They couldn’t both fall apart at the same time and Una fell apart so rarely that he was willing to let her go first.
When. Stardate 202504.05
Where. Captain's Quarters
What. These two are stressed AF
And she was worried about Adaine and Fig.
Una lowered herself onto the stool on the other side of the open countertop in Chris' quarters. She only barely managed to avoid the desire to fold her arms on that same counter and drop her head into them. Instead, she stared at Chris without actually seeing him as her mind raced and whirled. How were they going to get back? Could they get back? With a slow blink, Una realized Chris was watching her and she automatically straightened as a defensive expression appeared though it was only in the way her eyebrows pinched.
To the normal observer, Chris seemed completely in control. He’d spent the day on the bridge and in his ready room - him and Una both staying on duty past the end of alpha shift. For those that knew Chris well - Una chief among them - there was a tension lining Chris’ body as he studied his first officer and best friend.
“Two questions. Coffee or alcohol? Eggs or Pasta? You need to eat so don’t bother arguing.”
Una's expression turned until there was a hint of that affectionate sort of annoyance that was born of too many years with the man. And then her gaze fell enough to be clear that she was considering her options just a little too hard.
"Both? And pasta. I need the carbs more than I need the protein," she sighed. Una would have slumped backward if she had been in an actual chair and would have needed to worry about pitching back toward the floor. "No. Hold the alcohol. If I need to go back on shift..." They both knew her metabolism could handle it but she was the First Officer; Una needed to be an example.
In a very uncommon display since she wasn't alone, she tugged on the hair band that held her ponytail in place and let her hair down--literally. Una breathed out a noise of relief even though it wasn't like it had been confined. "Alright. What's the plan?" she asked while bringing her fingers up to fluff the creased section of her hair and just needing the motion to displace some of her stress.
It was rare to see Una this unmoored. The last time had been… her trial. Which Chris did not want to think about. At least they were past that from what he gathered looking at his logs. He brewed a pot of coffee, pouring two mugs and sliding one over to her. He took a sip of his - long ago having lost track of how many cups he’d had today - before going to pour two glasses of brandy and setting one in front of her.
“We both need this. No arguments.” He usually encouraged discussion, but neither of them would get drunk and he had a feeling they both needed something to take the edge off. “Self-care is just as important for a first officer.”
After a long swig of brandy, he pulled on his apron and set a pot of water to boil before getting the ingredients for the sauce - opting for a combination of meat, cheese, and tomato. They needed both the carbs and protein, in his opinion.
“Stay alive and pray we don’t encounter any hostile vessels? I haven’t thought beyond that and making sure we can fill the duty roster.”
"At least we're holding steady where we are," Una pointed out. Of course she hadn't argued and had even wrapped her fingers around the glass of brandy to pull it closer toward her. Still, she went for the coffee first but the movement of the glass had been silent acceptance. Science and Engineering had their work cut out for them and the Enterprise needed to stay put to see if there was any information out there before they decided to leave and head for level heads and additional high-level IQs.
Una sipped at her coffee and her gaze went distant. "I don't remember any of this," she said softly. "No space anomaly even remotely resembling this. Which worries me because is this actually our universe or are we looking at another situation of alternates?" The mug of coffee was put down and the glass of brandy picked up instead. What else could she have forgotten? Or if there were alternate versions of themselves out there, what were they like?
She couldn't control the shudder that rolled its way down her spine and she took a heathy swallow of brandy.
Chris set down his knife and moved around the counter, placing his hand on Una’s shoulder and squeezing reassuringly. “Hey. It’s okay.”
He took a deep breath. They couldn’t both fall apart at the same time and Una fell apart so rarely that he was willing to let her go first. “I don’t remember this either. So I don’t think we’ve lived it. I’ve scanned the logs and as far as I can tell, it matches my memories of the Enterprise. Spock stealing the Enterprise, Pelia coming aboard, Boimler and Mariner showing up…”
He made a face. Both of the ensigns had been brilliant but trouble in their own way. “The last bit at least makes it a little easier for our crew to roll with this. We’ll do a captain’s table dinner for senior staff tomorrow and then integrate the San Francisco group into that in the days that follow if we’re still here.”
His thumb circled one of the knots in Una’s shoulder. “I’m holding off on telling April.”
She didn't flinch when he touched her; Una never did. But she still cast a look up at Chris that was unhappy. Una wasn't the sort to let her emotions get the best of her, not usually, and she hated even more that Chris felt the need to comfort her. He had the heavier weight on his shoulders, after all.
Una looked away again but lifted a hand to cover his. "Dinner is a good idea. But you can't hold off for too long on telling April. This might be much bigger than we can handle. I don't know that you'll be able to come back from it enough if you go more than twenty-hours without reporting this," she said. "I'm certain Spock would agree though his timeline might be even tighter." So help her, she missed the Vulcan. Una had missed La'an, Uhura, Ortegas, and everyone she considered a friend--even if maybe they didn't see her in that same light.
When she looked up again, it was with a small squeeze of his hand. "If you want me there when you report, I will be."
“April loves me,” Chris countered with a grin, resisting the urge to give her a bone crushing hug. Or well, a human bone crushing hug. “Let me worry about him.”
He gave her one final squeeze before returning to the stove to add the pasta to the boiling water and get the sauce started. “If April doesn’t know, then he’s not culpable. If I’m going down, I’d rather not take him with me. Or Spock, for that matter.”
"Chris!" she admonished. "This isn't about going down. You didn't do anything wrong. We didn't do anything wrong. That is like saying the the ensigns from the future were our fault."
Una paused and then frowned. "Forty-eight hours," she conceded. "And if you won't tell him, then I will. Unless you order me not to." Her eyebrows rose at him, well aware how few times she actively challenged him. "We may need way more minds thrown at this which means telling others. We can at least argue the going dark for the initial period because we were in turmoil."
A slow smirk appeared. "I like how you say you won't take April or Spock down with you but are perfectly willing to do so with me," she teased. Una knew that wasn't how he meant it but it was fun to watch him squirm a little.
“Seventy-two,” he countered, though he’d be perfectly willing to accept her forty eight hours. He could work with that. “I try not to give you orders you’re going to disobey. I learned that lesson early.”
“Well, Number One, I just figured you were my ride-or-die for whatever crazy trip we’re on. Unless you’re having second thoughts?”
"Forty-eight," she said with a raised eyebrow. There was a reason why so many people didn't argue with her and it wasn't simply because she outranked the majority of them. The look was immediately ruined by the amusement that flooded her face. It was true; Una would disobey orders when necessary and argued with her Captain just as frequently if she thought he needed to hear it.
But he was absolutely right. "I am your ride-or-die," Una agreed and then huffed a long-suffering sigh. More of the brandy was downed but at least she moved to the coffee before it cooled off too much. "I have to admit that I'm glad you're here. Not the usual you but this one, where you know the girls and know that I've been in a past version of San Francisco. I know that you wouldn't be doing anything differently but it... it helps. I don't feel so alone."
“Forty-eight,” Chris conceded with a smile. “Good. Because you’re my favorite first mate and I’m definitely tapping you for my pirate crew.”
Making sure the sauce would be okay, Chris turned his attention to Una. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than by your side. Don’t want you to ever be alone.” And he hated being alone - or at least without Una. It was why he’d gone to such lengths to make sure Una had the best defense for her trial. Because just the thought of being on the Enterprise without her felt wrong.
He strained the pasta before adding it to the sauce, letting it finish cooking as he went to pick some fresh basil. Serving it up in two bowls and garnishing it with the herbs and fresh grated parmesan, he placed one in front of Una as he took the seat next to her. “We’re going to get through this, Una. We haven’t met a challenge we can’t overcome yet and we’ve got the best damned crew in the universe.”
An eye roll answered his mention of his pirate crew but she didn't grace him with a retort. The piracy jokes and imitations were long-standing and unlikely to end.
The motions were loud to her in a way that Chris hadn't forced her to help, hadn't actually given her a task. He knew her well and knew that she had just needed to sit there for a few minutes to digest in quiet just how much trouble they could actually be in. Not with Starfleet but in their situation and if they'd be able to make sure everyone could get back. Did the magic running that place extend this far? When he sat beside her, Una shifted just enough to be able to lean her shoulder against his.
Una said nothing as she tucked into the dinner. Until she couldn't help breaking the silence with a dry, "not your best work." A beat and then Una laughed, turning her head to grin at Chris.
He pressed his shoulder against hers in response and let his leg rest against hers. It was a comfort to have her here and physically close. He feigned a gasp, his hand going to his chest. “You wound me, Number One!” he teased, knowing he’d been a bit distracted and preoccupied. “You’re always welcome to cook if you’re dissatisfied with my culinary skills.”
His tone was light and jovial, but he knew they were both exhausted and stressed. Chris might be experienced with the weight of the chair, but none of their company from San Francisco had signed up for this willingly and a fair number of them were terrified. Not to mention the Enterprise had a tendency to find trouble even when she wasn’t looking for it.
"You're too easy," Una murmured and lifted her mug to her lips, still smiling around the sip she took.
One of her favorite things about the man beside her was how they could both keep things light in the face of times that were far from easy. In the heat of a moment was one thing but sitting around? It was okay to sound relaxed, to tease. And all while they knew the other was on edge anyway. The pasta was helping. It was a comfort, it wasn't just them getting something from a replicator, and it was familiar.
"We'll be okay," she finally agreed, voice low. They might have been missing half their assigned crew but there were enough people among the displaced community to want to step up and step in that they would outweigh those who would treat it like a game. Like a joke. Besides, if anyone acted up? La'an would handle it. Neither Chris nor Una would even need to put on their Disappointed faces.
She cocked an eyebrow and glanced at the captain. "You realize the forty-eight hours already started before I even walked into this room, right? It didn't start when you agreed to it."
“Or my gastronomic standards are too high,” Chris teased, cocking his eyebrow at her. There were many reasons Chris preferred to cook from scratch - it was therapeutic and gave him time to slow down, something that was much needed in the life of a captain. Especially a workaholic like him who didn’t always take his shore leave.
“Absolutely not,” he said, gesturing at her with his fork. “I’ll grant that they started when alpha shift ended, but that’s the most I’ll give you.”
The tease only got a conceding sort of nod; he wasn't wrong because his standards were high. It was why the captain's quarters were outfitted the way they were, after all.
But her eyes narrowed at his argument and she debated the merits of pushing the point. It still wasn't the seventy-two but she could tack on the extra time. "Alpha shift was in a disarray with so many disappearances," Una said slowly, thoughtfully, "it was only right to use that time to get everyone assigned out as best we could once we figured out where the gaps were."
Una pointed her fork at him as she turned to face him a little more fully. "But I mean it. The clock's started. Starfleet can't be kept in the dark on this one. Loyalty will get you far but not far enough, someone will slip and send a communication out to a loved one." When she frowned, it was with genuine concern. "If it's not as simple as finding the exact place where whatever it was happened and get it to do whatever it was again, we aren't going to figure this out on our own. And half of your crew is unwillingly MIA."
Chris held up his hands in surrender. “Understood, Number One.” He didn’t want to hide things from Starfleet, but there was the chance that if they went to Starfleet, the displaced residents would be removed from the ship and put on some starbase or god knows where. And that might include him and Una. And he wasn’t ready to risk giving up his ship.
“Our crew,” he corrected. Because they were Una’s as much as his. He set his fork down, running his fingers through his hair with a sigh before reaching for the brandy and taking a long, slow sip. “I know. And I’m damn glad that most of our senior crew seems to have been spared and that the ship doesn’t seem to be affected. We will get our people back, and we will make sure we get the folks from San Francisco home. It can't be easy for them either - taken here without consent, thrown into this with close to no clue what to do.”
There was a heaviness to his voice as he kept his tight grip on the glass. Even if it meant sacrificing himself, staying here, he would do whatever necessary.
This time, her eye roll wasn't as pronounced. He wasn't wrong: Una was possessive about the crew, too. But her expression softened when she heard that tone slip into his voice. Even if the fingers in his own hair hadn't been a glaring hint, that tone was.
Una breathed out through her nose and reached for her own glass. "What if we can't go back?" she asked softly. "We're the only two people who seem to have actually replaced someone here. What if our crew and our community swapped places?" She drowned the rest of the drink, the empty glass being set on the counter with a hard clatter. "What if, what if." This was so far out of their league that Una didn't have a base model to even start working from. An alternate universe was one thing. The multiverse was another.
"At the very least," Una finally said and sounded more calm, "we do what we can with our community. Keep them calm, keep them busy. The added bonus is that we can keep the Enterprise running. It isn't like she's a junker but we don't have to risk exhausting our remaining crew just to make up for the missing people." The task felt big. She wouldn't say too big but it was daunting. At least with Starfleet personnel in general, they knew something about what they might be getting into. Those people weren't displaced in time and weren't panicking about a lack of horizon. "I think I could count on two hands how many from San Francisco would even be used to living in space... and still have fingers left over."
Chris didn’t have to tell Una that he would stay if it meant everyone else could go back to where they belonged. She knew him well enough to be accustomed to his habit of self-sacrifice for the greater good. And he knew she shared it. Even though Adaine and Fig complicated the situation a bit. “A one for one swap seems the most logical, simple explanation. For as much as anything like this can have a simple explanation.”
“Preventing freakouts and panic attacks is probably one of the top priorities. I’ll make sure M’Benga and Chapel synthesize some extra sedatives and anti-anxiety hypos just in case.” He ran through a mental list in his head. “Ransom’s at least familiar with Starfleet and basic ops, even if this tech is a little behind his time. There’s the crew from the Serenity who seem well equipped and a few others. And a handful who seem excited about the possibility of being in space. Might be a good idea to put someone in charge of social events / morale. We did movie nights on the Discovery. Maybe something along those lines.”
He’d been captured enough to know that staying busy was sometimes the key to staying calm and sane. Chris ran a hand through his hair, mussing the graying hair until it was thoroughly disheveled. “Have we exhausted communication efforts with the missing crew?”
Una simply listened, going back to her meal. Even that was familiar just taking in the thoughts Chris was putting out verbally. She snorted suddenly. "We both know I am not going to be put in charge of that," Una said dryly though she at least seemed amused. She was not the type to do social events, much less organize them.
And then she sobered. She absently reached over, without thinking, and smoothed back of part of Chris' hair that was a little too mussed. "They've been exhausted without alerting anyone from Starfleet," Una said quietly. Everyone who had been tasked knew that line was there until their Captain said otherwise. "And if there is any way to track them, Spock has come up short. I'm... out of ideas already."
“And here I was going to put you and La’an in charge of the fun brigade,” Chris teased. “Don’t worry, I’ll put Chapel, Ortegas, and Uhura on it. Let them run wild.”
He smiled at her touch, more intimate than they would usually be in public. But this was his quarters, not the bridge. Chris nodded at her comment. “I figured as much…” Chris sighed. He was running out of ideas as well, but didn’t want to admit it. Because there was no way in hell they were giving up. He pulled one of the PADDs over, scrolling through the list of missing crew, trying to find any patterns. “We’ll find them, Una.”
Una's hand dropped to cover the top edge of the PADD he'd moved in front of himself. She tugged it out from under his hands and set it aside. "Eat," Una said simply and watched him with a raised brow. He'd be giving her the same treatment which was part of why they worked so well together.
“Yes, mom,” he said with an eyeroll, only protesting slightly when she took the PADD away. “I am capable of multitasking, you know. We’ve had plenty of working dinners in the past.”
But he did as he was told and went back to the pasta, though it was mostly going through the motions, the events of the day catching up with him along with the cost of keeping it together with the latest craziness they were dealing with.
“We need to keep an eye on our crew,” he said softly, sobering. “I know we’re asking the folks from San Francisco to chip in, but that’s going to require them being trained by our folks. And we’re down by half, which means folks might be taking double shift. I don’t want anyone overworking themselves and everyone needs to take their days off. We can have folks falling asleep while on duty or burning the candle at both ends. We don’t know how long we’ll be here or what we might face.” God help us if we run into hostiles, he thought to himself.
"That will be my job. La'an and I will take that task on. You focus on the rest of it," Una replied, her tone brooking no argument. "That includes you in that burning the candle at both ends scenario. I swear I will tie you to a bed if I have to just to make sure you get some sleep."
Oh, she knew exactly how that sounded and was likely going to come off. But it was still a promise.
“I’ll sleep if you do,” Chris countered, bumping his shoulder against hers. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, exhaustion and the weight of the situation taking priority. “And we both know that my knot skills are better than yours.”
Una snorted her amusement again. "Knot skills don't matter if you can't get out of them in the first place," she hummed, plucking up the rest of his brandy since she knew her coffee had gone too cold for her liking. With a smirk, Una downed the rest of the drink. "Go catch a nap. I'll clean up when you're done eating. You know I've got this much under control for now, take the time. Thirty minutes," she cajoled as she set the empty glass beside the other one she'd already finished off.
“I should send you to the brig for stealing my brandy.” It didn’t take too long for him to finish off most of the pasta on his plate. It was a good suggestion, he knew that.
“I won’t be able to sleep,” he said quietly. “But I could go for another brandy by the fire.”
Una watched him with the same level of concern he would have been displaying toward her if she hadn't already beat him to it for that particular span of time. They could keep taking turns. "Then at least go grab a shower while I clean up. Try to relax just a little and then we'll have that brandy by the fire. Sound good?" she asked, serious about her suggestion.
“That I can handle. But if you soak my cast iron pan, I will send you to the brig,” he teased, knowing his pan was in no danger of that. Una was more of a stickler for detail than he was. Chris slid off the stool, and wrapped an arm around her. “I hate that we have to deal with this but I’m glad we’re in it together.”
He gave her another squeeze. “Interrupt me if anything comes up. That’s an order, Number One.”