Doubles Mode

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Star Trek: Discovery

Copyright: CBS

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The Discovery's gym was very well stocked for a vessel of exploration. Lorca, always ready for combat, had made sure of that, and Pike had not seen fit to change anything. During ship's night, however, very few crewmembers made use of its facilities, which was why Agent Ash Tyler preferred that time for his own workout.

He wasn't expecting Commander Saru to be occupying the shooting gallery – let alone a Commander Saru so different from the one Ash remembered.

Ash knew how fierce a fighter the Kelpien could be from their encounter with the Pahvans, but since then, Saru's strength and speed had only grown. More than that, his threat ganglia had been replaced by a ruff of spikes around his face like a Komodo dragon's. He was pulling the spikes out one by one and throwing them like darts at the humanoid targets on the end of the gallery. They must have been sharp, because they struck deep into the plastic surface and quivered there like arrows: Thwack! Left leg. Thwack! Right arm. Thwack! Abdomen.

The human in Ash was both impressed and mildly disturbed. The Klingon was just plain envious.

Before he could decide whether going back to his quarters would be considerate or cowardly, Saru solved the dilemma for him by pausing in mid-aim and saying: "Good evening, Agent Tyler. Would you care to join me?"

His ruff flared as he spoke, and Ash wondered what that signified. Judging by the stiff, unwelcoming tone in the First Officer's voice, however, it was nothing good.

Still, he couldn't afford to skip a workout. And Voq would never have allowed a prey-creature, with or without spikes, to best him in a challenge.

"Don't mind if I do, Commander." He pulled the mek'leth dagger T'Kuvma had given him out its sheath at his belt, took the station next to Saru's, and let fly.

Thwack! The dagger landed within centimetres of the target's left ear. Just as he'd thought, his aim was off after spending so much time off Q'onos.

Thwack! Saru's spike buried itself in his target's throat.

They practiced in terse silence for a few minutes, taking turns to walk down the gallery and retrieve their weapons (if one could use that term for what was basically a body part). To his increasing dismay, Ash found that, as new as the spikes clearly were, Saru was still outshooting him.

He was too tense. He knew it, but he couldn't relax. Every time he looked at Saru, he remembered how the First Officer had seen Captain Pike shutting him down on the bridge.

"Where's Commander Burnham?"

"On personal leave."

"Why wasn't I informed?"

"Because personal means personal."

This time last year, Ash had still had the right – no, the privilege – of being included in Michael Burnham's personal life. This time last year, he wouldn't have needed to brandish a Section 31 badge to find out what was happening to her family. She would have told him herself, or at the very least, he'd have been included as Chief of Security in the mission to find Spock.

Saru's body language, like Pike's dismissal, only served to make more obvious something he already knew. This crew didn't trust him anymore. She didn't trust him.

The worst of it was, he couldn't even blame her.

In the absence of a living creature on which he could legally take out his frustration, Ash hurled his dagger with such uncontrolled force that it flew wide and left an ugly scratch on the wall behind the target.

"Good heavens, Mr. Tyler! Maintenance won't be happy about that. Hadn't you better call it a night?"

I'm fine, he meant to say, but what burst out instead was the very thing he'd been trying to keep private: "What the hell was she thinking, to disappear like that?"

He stalked across the lane and snatched up his dagger, knowing he looked and sounded like a sulky teenager. When he reached the shooting boxes, he found Saru looking down at him with an unreadable expression, his ruff moving in small ripples like waves.

"If you're referring to Commander Burnham, I can hazard a guess," said the Kelpien. "Forgive me for saying so, but after your past self killed Dr. Culber and tried to strangle her, your current self left her to work for Chancellor L'Rell, and finally you reappeared as an agent of Section 31 - " He shot a glance sharper than his spikes at the black badge on Ash's chest. "Is it any wonder if she has her doubts about trusting you with the search for her sick younger brother?"

None of this was any worse than the things he told himself, and all of it was true. Having that terrible record listed against him in Saru's haughty voice, however, caused something in him to snap. There should be limits, surely, on how far to carry contrition? Especially when it didn't make any difference in the eyes of this crew.

"You have no idea what I gave up to be here! I'm legally dead on Q'onos, did you know that? I can never go back. L'Rell faked my death because I was a liability, because the Council couldn't trust her as long as I was around … " He couldn't talk about Voq's son. It was none of Saru's business how much it hurt to think of that little albino baby, who would share his father's outcast state without ever knowing who his father was.

"Section 31 saved my life and made it possible for me to come back here. Do I trust them? Hell, no. But I'll do whatever it takes to be where Michael is. Whether she forgives me or not, it doesn't matter as long as she's okay. And if you think I'd let any harm come to her brother, you're insulting my honor – not to mention making a grave mistake."

He gripped the hilt of his dagger, planted his feet and looked Saru squarely in the eye, prepared for anything from a formal reprimand to a barrage of flying spikes.

What he was not prepared for was seeing Saru lean forward, sniff the air above Ash's head, and let his spiked ruff slowly retract into the sides of his head.

Ash was so taken aback, he almost forgot to be insulted. This was new. The Saru he remembered had been so self-conscious about being the only Kelpien in Starfleet that he'd avoided drawing attention to his enhanced senses whenever possible. Saru had changed. If anyone ought to recognize that, it was Ash.

"Hmm … you don't smell like someone telling a lie. I'm inclined to believe you."

It wasn't full support, but it was more than he'd expected, or had any right to expect. He would take what he could get.

"I'm inclined to be grateful, sir."

Saru cracked a smile as best he could with his thin lips. "It's really Michael to whom you should be telling all this, you know, not me."

"I might – once she gets back from her unscheduled detour to Kahless-knows-where."

Saru and Ash shared a look of mutual exasperation. It occurred to Ash to wonder if Michael's "detour" was, in fact, the reason Saru had stayed up this late practicing his combat skills in the first place. Was he as worried about his longtime shipmate and friendly rival as Ash himself was?

Kahless knew she could take care of herself, and no doubt Spock too, when she found him. But Ash knew he would still sleep more peacefully with her, if not in his arms, at least on the same ship.

Even this gym, unattractive as it was with its smell of rubber floor mats, steel, phaser fuel, sweat and disinfectant, was full of memories of her. He still couldn't step into this shooting gallery without remembering his hands on her slim waist, "helping" her with her stance, and the way she'd raised a Vulcanesque eyebrow and reminded him she already knew how to shoot, thank you, Lieutenant, and if he wanted to touch her, they didn't need an excuse.

Once again, he felt angry enough at his own loneliness to want to destroy something. But not alone. Not this time.

"Commander? Can we switch to moving targets?"

"Certainly. Computer, advanced training level 5, doubles mode."

The computer beeped and began a countdown. The stationary targets slid back against the wall, the divisions between the shooting lanes folded down into the floor, and a swarm of metallic spheres at the edges of the range launched themselves into the air. Saru picked up a phaser and tossed another to Ash, who caught it in one hand. They moved to stand back to back.

" … 3 … 2 … 1 … Begin."

Zap! Ash ducked under a beam of green light from the nearest sphere and fired on it, causing it to drop out of the air like a stone. He spun to avoid another, caught a third one aiming for Saru out of the corner of his eye, and shot it just in time. He saw Saru covering for him in the same way, but he didn't have much time to notice; he was reduced to nothing but two sharp eyes, two quick feet and a trigger finger. It was oddly liberating. If only he could shoot down everything that worried him as easily as he could shoot these. Zap! Every falling sphere made him momentarily lighter.

"Mr. Tyler?" Saru shouted over the sound of their phasers. "Would you like to see something – what's the word – cool?"

"Sure!"

"Then duck!"

Ash ducked.

Saru's face briefly took on a terrible expression, as if he were thinking of something he hated with all his might – the Ba'ul perhaps, or the Terrans. His ruff emerged and the spikes shot out in all directions, taking out more spheres than Ash would have believed possible. How could he have so many of them left if he'd been shooting them all evening? But of course, he'd been re-using them for several rounds. They didn't seem to lose any of their sharpness.

Only two spheres were left. Ash zapped them easily. Once they were down, they rolled back to the ditch around the edges of the gallery.

"End round one," said the computer. "Would you like to begin a new round?"

"Negative," said Saru, clicking his phaser back to safety mode and returning it to the rack. "Oh dear. I really must start adding more calcium to my diet if I'm to continue like this."

"Now that," said Ash, grinning as he put away his own weapon, "Was cool. Seriously, how did you get those?"

Saru sighed, like a teacher dealing with an especially slow student, but this time Ash could sense the humor underneath and did not resent it.

"Yes, they're a natural part of my species' life cycle, although I only found out recently. It's a long story. Yes, they grow back. Yes, they are somewhat uncomfortable. No, I'm not accustomed to them yet, hence the target practice. Any more questions?"

"No, sir."

The way Saru was using his hands to flatten his ruff back into his head was familiar. Ash had a similar habit of touching his forehead, still not quite believing how smooth it was. He knew how it felt to be a stranger in your own body. He could only hope to handle it as gracefully as his colleague was.

"I can tell you one thing, sir. Commander Burnham's lucky to have you on her side."

Saru gave Ash a pat on the shoulder with one long-fingered hand.

"I could say the same of you, Mr. Tyler."