Desperate Hours (Star Trek: Discovery #1)

by David Mack

“Pick up your feet, Mister Saru,” Burnham said as she and Gant headed to the turbolift. “Time, tide, and transporters wait for no one.”

+1 for age of sail reference

Unlike some of his peers in Starfleet, Saru enjoyed the sensation of being beamed. As he stood on the platform in front of the energizer array in the Shenzhou’s transporter room, the pressure of the annular confinement beam had a calming effect upon his oft-frazzled nerves.

nice touch

Unlike many other types of starship in the fleet, Constitution-class vessels had no ready rooms for their captains. Most days, Pike didn’t miss having a ready room—except for those occasions when he received a classified transmission

good point

full disclosure, Mister Spock. Who is the Shenzhou’s XO to you?” “Her name is Michael Burnham,” Spock said. “She is . . . a friend of my family.” Pike was confused. “How well do you know her?” “She is a few years older than I am, so we rarely moved in the same social or academic circles. If not for her connection to my parents, I would barely know of her at all.” Having more facts had not made the matter any clearer to Pike. “Never mind the trip down memory lane, then.

She tapped her wrist, an ancient Terran gesture meant to signal impatience, one of the few things she remembered from early childhood on Earth.

Spock split his attention between Burnham and the path ahead. “I doubt either of us would be welcomed among Vulcan crews. As quick as they are to profess the wisdom of IDIC, they remain in many ways quite provincial.” It pained Burnham to admit to herself that Spock was likely correct. IDIC—the Vulcan philosophy that extolled the virtue of Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations—all too often was honored in its breach rather than its observance. If someone as famous as Spock, son of Sarek, thinks he’d be persona non grata on an all-Vulcan ship, what chance will I ever have? She rebelled against a swell of desperation

She reminded him of the small team of Starfleet officers who had rescued him from certain death on his homeworld many years earlier. They, too, had given off the vibe of “evolved beings,” a quality of their essential nature that had made them fascinating to him: sentient creatures who possessed the attributes of an apex predator, but also the empathy and compassion of a fellow prey animal.

Apart from live performance, vinyl analog recordings were Georgiou’s favorite way to enjoy music. Rich, warm, and so eerily present—that was the enduring appeal of analog media, the bizarre magic that gave them such cachet

was a single line from the poem “Self-Pity” by D. H. Lawrence: I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself.

I-Chaya is dying. Burnham has just returned with a healer from a nearby village. The healer has examined I-Chaya and made his prognosis. All his medicine can do now is prolong I-Chaya’s suffering. It would be unseemly for Burnham to cry. She is Vulcan. “Release him,” she tells the healer. “It is fitting he dies with peace and dignity.” As the healer prepares his hypospray, Burnham’s adult cousin Selek watches while she whispers her farewell to I-Chaya, with her thanks for his courage, his loyalty, and his sacrifice.

nice canon fanservice

But until today, I’d thought I was Sarek’s greatest disappointment.” “Unlikely,” Spock said. “I am quite certain he has reserved that distinction for me.”

He raised his right hand to her in the classic Vulcan salute. “Live long and prosper, Michael Burnham.” She returned the salute and felt for a moment as if she had found the brother she had never known she had always wanted. “Peace and long life, Spock.”

“Looking back on my lifetime of travels,” she said to him, “I am forced to conclude the universe has only two true constants: entropy and selfishness.” As she had hoped, her observation drew a half smile from Pike. “Don’t give up hope,” he said. “Selfishness will go away once the universe runs out of sentient beings.” “I’m not so sure.” She noted the incredulity in his sidelong glance, and added, “Trust me, Captain. Selfishness always seems to find a way.” 29 None of the other diners in the Enterprise’s officers’ mess had seemed to notice that Spock had not touched his plo-meek soup in nearly a quarter of an hour.

“You seem . . . I don’t know. Older? No—calmer than you did before.” She tilted her head as she continued to study him and collect her thoughts. “You present yourself in a way that feels more centered. Better balanced.” Her smile broadened to a grin. “You have gravitas now.”