Work Text:
Personal Log — Lt. Erica Ortegas.
Today was…a lot. We were trying to fix Spock’s whole fully human situation, which was kind of hilarious at first, but somehow ended with me flying a shuttle straight back into that glowing space portal that put Spock in that situation in the first place.
And here’s the thing I keep turning over: I love flying. There’s nothing in the galaxy like navigating a ship through the hazards of space for some grand purpose. But when it’s my friends in the seats beside me? That thrill turns into something different. Heavier. Like I’m suddenly holding my entire universe in my hands.
Do I do what they want me to do?
Or do I do the thing that keeps them safe?
And that part is hard. Because disappointing your friends feels awful. But hurting them because you didn’t say no? That would be so much worse.
I keep thinking about it like separate responsibilities pulling in opposite directions: the thrill of being a pilot and the responsibility of being the person who gets them home. Plus the responsibility of being a friend who doesn’t let them down.
Sometimes those line up.
Sometimes they don’t.
And that’s where it gets messy. Because I know I can fly through anything. But I don’t know if I can always look someone I care about in the eye and say, “I know what you want, I know why… but we can’t risk it. We can’t risk you.” I hope I can. Because if I can’t do that…if I can’t be that honest…then maybe I’m not the pilot I want to be. Maybe I am not the friend I want to be.
Anyway… everything worked out today. Spock’s fine and half-Vulcan again. The shuttle survived. Christine and Uhura are alive and still fully human.
But I’m still thinking about that choice.
About the day it won’t be easy.
Whether I’ll have the guts to say no when it matters.
End log.