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Pike’s shoulders stiffen at the sound of the chime. “Come in,” he says, taking a steadying breath as he looks up from his computer.
The door opens and Una enters. She holds two PADDs and wears a grim expression on her face. “I’ve got the butcher’s bill,” she says.
Pike nods. “Close the door.” She does, then sits in the chair in front of his desk and hands him a PADD. “Have you looked yet?” he asks.
Una shakes her head. “I waited for you.”
“Right.” Pike’s fingers hesitate over the power button on his PADD, then he sighs. “How many more times do you think we’ll have to do this?”
She gives him an understanding look. “Let’s just get this over with.” Una glances down at her screen, then gasps. “Chris.”
“What?” Pike demands. He quickly powers on his own PADD and skims the first few lines, then grins and looks up at his first officer. “Kat’s alive?”
Una smiles back at him. “It sounds like it.”
Pike lets out a breath and leans back in his chair. “Oh, that’s so good to hear.” His eyes fall back down on the PADD, this time to take in the rows of casualties listed below Admiral Cornwell’s name. “I guess that’s our bit of good news for the week.” Both their smiles disappear.
They read the rest of the report in silence. Una reaches the end first and waits for Chris to look up. “What’s the damage?” she asks.
He sets down his PADD. “One KIA. Piper Anderson. She was a yeoman with me on Yorktown,” he says. “I don’t think I ever had a real conversation with her.” The captain turns his distant glance to the window. “What about you?”
“Two people I knew from the Academy were wounded,” she says. “Marcus Lee and Shrani zh'Ivor. They were both two years ahead of me, so I didn’t know them very well.” She presses her lips together. “We both got lucky this week.”
Pike stares distantly at the stars flying by. “It’s not fair,” he mutters.
“Nothing about this war is,” Una replies. “We couldn’t have stopped any of this. You know that.”
Pike pulls his gaze away from the window. “Yeah,” he says unconvincingly. “I guess it’s time to see how the crew did.” He closes his eyes, presses his hands together, and rests his forehead against them. “Computer, cross-reference this week’s casualty list from Starfleet Command against the current crew of Enterprise using the program Pike-Kilo-Whiskey-Echo. Display the results on my desktop monitor.”
The list appears on his screen a moment later. Most of it is written in green, the captain’s code for minor connections that usually turn out to be acquaintances. A couple of the names are yellow — distant relatives or close colleagues. But one line stands alone in bright red. Pike’s heart plummets.
“Chris?” His distress must show on his face because Una stands up from her seat and turns his monitor to read. Her expression falls. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Pike says grimly. “Is he on the bridge?”
“He has the conn right now,” Una says. “Do you want me to stay here when you tell him?”
The captain hesitates, then shakes his head. “Just give me a minute to get ready before you send him in. Then relieve him for the day.”
Una picks up her PADD. “I’ll take care of the rest of the notifications, too,” she offers.
Pike nods. “Thanks.” He watches her walk out the door, then takes a deep breath. He stands and orders two Vulcan spice teas from the synthesizer. By the time the captain has set down the mugs, one on either side of his desk, the door is chiming. “Come in.” He sits back down.
Spock walks in. “Captain?”
He motions toward the chair in front of his desk. “Please sit. ”
Spock does as he’s told. “Commander Chin-Riley said you wished to speak to me.” He eyes the cup of tea in front of him with suspicion.
“Yes, I do.” The captain clasps his hands tightly underneath his desk and lifts his eyes to meet Spock’s gaze. “I’m afraid I have some bad news from Starfleet Command,” he says. “Your sister, Michael, has been killed in action. She was serving as a science specialist on USS Discovery when it was destroyed with all hands.”
“I see,” Spock says. His expression remains stiff. “May I be dismissed, sir?”
“Spock,” Pike says compassionately. “I’m so, so sorry for your loss. I grieve with thee.”
Spock’s eyes soften a fraction at the Vulcan phrase, and he hurriedly looks down to pick up the cup from Pike’s desk. “Thank you, captain.” He takes a sip of tea.
Pike wraps his hands around his own mug but doesn’t drink. “I’ve asked Una to take you off duty for the rest of the shift. I don’t know how much time you want to take off, but consider it granted.”
Spock nods. He sets down his mug. “May I go? I would like to contact my mother.”
“Of course.” Pike watches as Spock stands and starts for the door. “Spock?”
He stops but doesn’t turn around. “Yes?”
“If there’s anything I can do for you, please let me know,” he says. “I don’t know exactly what you’re going through, but if you ever want to talk or just to have someone to sit with you, I’m here for you. The whole crew is.”
Spock nods. “Thank you.” Then, he hurries out the door before Pike can say another word.