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Dress uniforms are stuffy. It seems to be part of their design. Everyone around her is wearing one, with their meals bright on their chests. Una has a few already. Citations for merit and valor - respectable, of course - but nothing that required this much ceremony.
Starbase One is full, with every docking bay being used, which is rare, and a mild security risk, especially considering that so many admirals are present, and of course, the Federation President, but there are times when it is appropriate for so much of Starfleet and the Federation gather.
This is one of them.
She appreciates the important of ritual, and that coming together to honor their heroes is important for morale. All of that runs deep into the culture of many worlds.
She's tried so hard to not be too exceptional, which is difficult at times. Being recognized for her intellect or skills is one thing, but she can't be too strong or too healthy. Nothing noticeable.
Flying a badly damaged freighter full of colonists out of the way of a stellar string fragment saved hundreds of lives, but she was not relying on her superior Illyrian reflexes. A suitably skilled human pilot could have done it. Still, being honored by the whole of Starfleet and the Federation president is unnerving.
The honor isn't hers alone, and she's focused on the other recipient for her sanity. Captain Philippa Georgiou somehow put her outdated Walker-class starship between thousands of lives and death.
She's won high accolades before. She's a Starfleet captain, heroics come with the rank, so perhaps it's all familiar to her. She knows what to say. How to accept an honor when it wasn't perfect.
Georgiou lost almost a third of the civilians she saved. Thanks to her, two thirds made it. How does she smile and accept a medal when she knows she was only so effective?
Does it get easier?
She's not entirely sure what she wants to ask Georgiou, only that she has to find her. Perhaps talking to her will help Una find some perspective.
Captain Philippa Georgiou - who has been honored with the Star Cross, member of the Martial Order of Andorian, who will receive the Medal of Gallantry alongside Una - certified hero of the Federation, is not found surrounded by admirers, or talking to Starfleet brass. She's not even with her own crew.
Una finds her behind the bar, both hands inside of the malfunctioning ice maker. while one of the servers holds the engineering kit.
"And it's been out of whack since last week?"
"Yes ma'am," the server replies, quickly. The young cadet doesn't seem to know Georgiou or Una, not even by rank, and she blushes a little blue when Una arrives. Defaulting to ma'am is a safe choice when she's not sure. How's a cadet on a serving rotation supposed to know exactly whom she's addressing. Medal of Gallantry winners don't spend their party taking apart ice makers.
"I think the heat dissipation unit is the problem."
"That would melt the ice ma'am," Una says.
"We just had an upgrade, and none of them have worked properly."
The engineering corp wouldn't install faulty equipment, however, she has heard of some of the older ships struggling with the power demands of some of the newer temperature regulation equipment.
Georgiou pulled part of it from the panel and frowns. "This coil is shot already."
Una takes it from her, studying the metal for imperfections. "Model two-two-seven is the latest update."
Leaning against the wall, Georgiou all but disappears into the unit. She's incredibly tiny. Captain Philippa Georgiou is a presence in all the stories about her, but here, she shakes the tightness from her hands and reaches back in.
Una sits on the floor beside her, turning the coil over in her hands. "Why would the new coil be unable to handle the heat from a much older system?"
"Doesn't make logical sense, does it?"
"When something defies logic, we often don't have all of the information, and can use logic to work backwards towards a true solution."
Georgiou chuckles, pausing to look at her. "You sound like a friend of mine, Commander."
"Una Chin-Riley, Captain."
Brushing her hair back from her face, Georgiou nods. "I know who you are. That was a hell of a thing you did."
"Thank you, ma'am, as was yours."
Lifting another burnt coil, Georgiou taps hers to Una's in a strange kind of toast. "To us then."
"This part is for us, Captain."
"Oh it's not for us, Commander." Georgiou turns the coil in her fingers. "After we rescued the convoy, we watched the asteroid field pass through the Grucarian nebula. The gasses glowed blue as they went. My crew and I sat on the floor in the lounge, looking up at the windows, just watching."
"Did you have popcorn ma'am?"
"We had cookies. My chief engineer loves to bake." Georgiou turns the coil again, and smiles, dutiful and resigned. "That moment was ll the thanks I neeed. This isn't for me. It's all right if it's not for you either."
"I'll find my moment?"
"You don't have to have cookies, but I recommend them."
Chris would bake cookies for his crew someday. She can imagine sitting together, being in each other's presence as a crew, knowing that peace of work well done, when no one needs to say anything.
"At least we don't have to give a speech."
"We stand there and give them a sturdy chest to pin a medal on."
"I can do that."
"You do everything impeccably, I hear, Commander." Georgiou's smile has a playful edge to it. Like Chris, gentle teasing seems to be part of her command style.
"I didn't—"
"You can't save everyone." Georgiou tps the little coil in her hand. "This is too advanced for this unit. It has sensors that are looking for calibration input that the older parts of the heat dissipation system aren't designed to provide. So it waits, and looks for input, and waits, and never gets told that it is doing the right thing."
"The system is too vast?"
"The system was built for something greater, without thinking about the nuance of a little set of coils."
"I'm not sure waht the metaphor is there, Captain."
"Don't burn yourself out."
"Right." Una chuckles. "Too obvious."
"Don't miss that either." Georgiou looks up at the cadet waiting for them. "Do you have a spoon, Cadet?"
"A spoon, ma'am?"
"Any of the cocktail spoons will do, but it needs to be an iron composite. We'll need two of them."
"You're going to use the spoon to bypass the coils?"
"It'll work for tonight."
It's crude, and other parts of the ice maker certainly will feel the strain of using something as crude as a ferrous modulator composite. She read that Georgiou had come up the ranks from engineering, which is rare in the captaincy. Engineers often fall in love with their ship and don't want to trust that to someone else to sit on the bridge.
"You don't look convinced."
"The whole thing will need an overhaul."
"Or someone will just put new coils in, let them burn out too." Georgiou accepts the spoon, bends it against the floor and carefully wedges it into the system. She tilts her head towards Una. "Bend it to round forty degrees, and make sure it contacts the top of the where the coil would be."
Bending a spoon in her hands would be too obvious, so Una dutifully mimics Georgiou, using the floor. With her spoon in place, the ice maker rattles once, then clicks on, humming obediently as it resumes making ice for the drinks.
Georgiou stands, reaching down to help Una up. "You can't save everyone. There will be hard days, but you will have your crew behind you, and some days will be so beautiful that you'll never want to leave the bridge."
"I'm not command track—" Una corrects her. She's thought bout it, but she's thought about most positions on the bridge. She loves science nd the helm and she's a damn good shot, but—
"I told Captain T'Var the same thing, several times."
"What made you decide that you wanted our own starship?"
"I didn't, not at first." Georgiou wipes her hands on a towel and watches neat little cubes of ice emerge with a smile. "I would have settled for keeping a ship running."
"I like flying," Una offers. "Never really felt at home in engineering."
"So you're not good at everything."
Una chuckles. She's not good enough at everything is a better way of saying that, but no one really understands her drive. How could they?
Georgiou's deep brown eyes glow with amusement. "You have time, plenty more parties to attend."
"More little things to fix?"
"You hate that I used spoons."
"I do." Una sets down the coil that was - and was not - the right part for the task. "More that I didn't think of it."
"Doesn't hurt to be creative."
Experience can't be rushed. It's every moment. There's so much for her to collect and known and fashion into who she will be. Perhaps when she has her own ship.
"Creative isn't exactly the word I'd use, ma'am."
Georgiou beams at her. "If you're going to insult my engineering genius, you should call me Philippa."