The kitchen was old-fashioned, any modern equipment stark against the wooden counter-tops. Dawn light came blinding through the tall windows on the far side, enough to cast the woman sat at the table in silhouette. But that wasn’t a problem for him. He’d know her anywhere.

Rourke moved through the room like he’d been here a hundred times; mug from the cupboard, coffee from the pot. He turned to the replicator.

‘We’re out of eggs,’ she said.

‘How does a replicator run out of eggs?’

She put down her mug and stood, still a silhouette even though the window was now at his back. ‘I’ll go get some.’

‘There’s no need.’

But she moved around the table, kissed him on the cheek, and headed for the door. ‘I’ll be back soon.’

‘Lily…’

She shut the kitchen door behind her, and that was when he woke up.

Endeavour’s CIC didn’t need constant staffing. Lieutenant Thawn had finished integrating and programming it, so now it was Chief T’Kalla’s domain, and her domain did not stretch to 0400 ship’s time. As such, Rourke was surprised when he got down there with a mug of tea, dressed down in his Academy sweater, to find he wasn’t alone.

‘Doctor Logan.’

Josephine Logan had been sat at the central holographic display, engrossed even with the low lighting, and jumped at his voice. ‘Captain Rourke!’

He winced wearily. ‘Didn’t we agree to drop all that, actually? Josie. Sorry for disturbing you.’

‘I didn’t – what time is it?’ Josie scrambled for her nearest PADD. ‘Oh. Oh, I really lost track of time.’

‘Factoring the CIC’s integration into your research?’ He took a chair by a console at the periphery of the CIC’s inner ring, spinning to face her.

‘That’s how it started.’ She rubbed her eyes. ‘This is actually your side-project, C- Matt.’ He cocked his head, and she gave an awkward smile. ‘You’ve reported Commander Valance’s intel to sector command. That should lead to a full assessment by sector intelligence and orders on how to proceed. I’ve been looking at those responses.’ She twirled a stylus for her PADD. ‘If information has been suppressed or compartmentalised, there might be a sign of it here.’

He blinked. ‘I didn’t think of that. I’ve turned you into a regular conspiracy theorist.’

She smiled bashfully. ‘It’s, ah, a pretty good break from analysing comparative processing speeds. I love my work, but there are days it’s just numbers which don’t yet mean anything. But from down here I can compare intelligence packages from different sources and see if there are any gaps in what they have or should have and… why are you here if it’s 0400?’

Rourke found a smile despite himself. ‘I couldn’t sleep.’

‘I’m a hypocrite,’ she said, pointing at his mug, ‘but I don’t think a caffeinated drink will help with that.’

‘I’m a man of bad habits.’

She twirled the stylus. ‘I guess you’ve got a lot on your mind.’

‘And you don’t? Do you normally pull all-nighters?’

‘I… this is interesting.’ She waved a hand at the display. ‘This matters. A lot more than my research. I think you are onto something, by the way; most of the low-level, local intelligence outposts aren’t even mentioning Halvard in their intel reports and assessments. Even though it’d be standard procedure to integrate knowledge of a cell leader into any regional analysis? I think it’s been classified higher than their clearance, even if they have clearance on a whole lot of things.’

‘But it’s not classified for us,’ sighed Rourke, ‘because he showed his face at us directly. I guess you don’t have clearance to see the details on the restrictions?’

‘No, no idea. I can see what Endeavour knows of him, or some of his personnel files. Loads of security and intelligence units can’t, I think. In fact, the most thorough one was from Lieutenant Dathan, who’s in Admiral Beckett’s office; even Security Investigations Special Branch aren’t giving me much on Halvard? It’s like if you’re not in a position where someone will tell you, face to face, that Halvard’s involved, he’s being kept off the records.’

Rourke rubbed his eyes. ‘I don’t get it. Is this just PR? Keep it quiet that an officer’s back from the dead and committing crimes?’

‘You’d know better than me.’

‘Starfleet’s grown more paranoid over the years,’ he mused. ‘Border colonies are a lot more independent and a lot less happy with the Federation, like we’re seeing on Bismarck.’

‘But that doesn’t explain why intelligence offices don’t have clearance.’

He sighed. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I don’t know. It’s like half a cover-up.’ He swigged his tea. ‘Did you hear back from Slater?’

She shook her head. ‘No. No, nothing. But I did…’ Josie winced. ‘I talked to Doctor Agenaw.’

His old CMO on the Firebrand. ‘Yeah? We’ve not spoken in… since, I think.’

‘That’s what he said.’ She again shifted. ‘He asked how you were. He seemed very sincere. I had to be clear I don’t… you might hear from him. I didn’t say anything.’

‘I didn’t realise my state of mind was secret.’

‘I don’t know anything secret.’ She swallowed. ‘Didn’t. Because Doctor Agenaw, he…’ She stopped, gathered herself, tried again. ‘I knew you and Erik Halvard were friends, and this situation sounds really awful – to watch him die like you did, I mean, if he was a friend. And to lose officers under your command like that. But I hadn’t realised you lost… Doctor Agenaw mentioned you and Lily Winters were involved…’

He shot to his feet. ‘That’s not relevant to this situation.’

If she’d been apprehensive before, being admonished made her shut down. ‘Right. You’re right. I’m sorry.’

‘Stop – they’re not – how they died isn’t relevant to this. I’m not asking you to look into that, I’m asking you to find out why Starfleet’s suppressing information now about Halvard.’

Josie squinted. ‘You don’t think it’s relevant that Lieutenant Commander Slater’s statement on how Halvard died has been classified? Or that apparently Halvard and the others died because of a leak in Starfleet security and that leak was never found?’

‘Finding that leak,’ Rourke snapped, ‘won’t explain what’s happening here. It won’t change what happened.’ His eyes swept over the CIC holodisplay of everything they’d learnt about the Wild Hunt, about the man with Erik Halvard’s face. ‘Perhaps this was a mistake.’

‘Commander – Matt – something’s wrong here,’ said Josie, firm for the first time. ‘I wasn’t sure when you asked, but the more I’ve looked -’

‘You’re not an investigator, not an intelligence officer or a security officer. You’re a computer programmer.’

‘I’m a galactic expert on Starfleet standards of information analysis and distribution,’ Josie said hotly. ‘And that might not be a very sexy sort of title but it means that if Starfleet’s handling data and reports in a weird way, I’ll notice!’

‘Then stick,’ Rourke snapped, ‘to that. Not something that happened two years ago.’ He snatched his mug up. ‘I’ll leave you to your work, Doctor.’

She was too stunned and cowed now to protest, but the sound in his head when the CIC doors swished shut behind him as he left was the same as the sound of the kitchen door slamming shut behind Lily Winters in his dream of a life they’d never had together.

* *

‘Morning, Commander.’

Valance had needed something from her office before her bridge shift, so she was taking breakfast in the officers’ mess as the midway point. At a small table against a wall, she hadn’t expected an interruption. Certainly not from Isa Cortez sitting herself opposite. ‘Lieutenant…’

Cortez’s eyebrows raised. ‘Not interrupting, am I? Just figured you were…’ She gestured to the space around her, previously empty.

‘I was just -’ Valance stabbed at her breakfast with her fork. ‘You’re not interrupting. I was thinking, that’s all.’

Cortez waved her coffee vaguely. ‘I got morning briefing with my team in, like, ten, so the last thing I want is to stare at another PADD right now.’

‘So you’re staring at me instead?’ Valance said, sardonic by instinct before she could think.

Cortez coughed on her coffee. ‘I don’t – I didn’t -’

‘I was joking,’ Valance rushed, flushing.

‘Sure! Sure.’ Cortez thudded her chest. ‘Just took me by surprise.’

‘So, I…’ Valance put her fork down, flustered. ‘What’s on the agenda for your staff meeting?’

Cortez coughed again. ‘Nothing exciting,’ she said, a little hoarse. ‘We gotta recalibrate the Bussard collectors because if we’re moving through the stellar phenomena of the Triangle, I want our filtration systems operating at maximum efficiency.’

‘Of course,’ said Valance, settling at the concept of work. ‘I’d be surprised if the Wild Hunt don’t have resources in the nebulae, and we may need to use them for a discreet approach. I assume you’ve looked at any research we have on them?’

‘Meja’s can play havoc with integrated power systems, but the calibrations to avoid that are simple and well-established,’ Cortez said, nodding.

‘Good. The Triangle’s never been the most-studied area, and we haven’t seen much of what its phenomena do to our most modern systems,’ said Valance. ‘I read reports of the Philadelphia struggling with an ion storm in proximity to Pergamon because the Mark X impulse engines’ power arrays were like a lightning… what?’

Cortez was frowning, and Valance realised her gaze had gone unseeing, focused on something beyond the conversation. At the question, the engineer blinked, straightened, and frowned again, like she was wrestling with something. She took a deep breath. ‘I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner with me.’

‘Dinner.’ Valance’s mind went utterly blank. ‘We’re having coffee right now.’

‘We are. Or, you were having breakfast, and then I came over to join you.’ Cortez’s face settled. ‘I mean, dinner, dinner.’

Valance opened and then shut her mouth. ‘Like a date, dinner.’

Cortez’s shoulders slumped. ‘It’s okay,’ she said, lifting her hands. ‘Forget I said anything.’

‘No, no,’ Valance said in a rush. ‘I was just surprised.’

Cortez squinted. ‘What, exactly, about my behaviour the last four weeks has got you surprised by this?’

‘I’m really not used to…’ Valance put her hands on the table so she didn’t fidget. ‘I accept my surprise is more about me.’

‘Okay.’ Cortez let out a slow breath. ‘Is that a… so…?’

‘But I’m the first officer,’ Valance pressed on. ‘You’re a member of the senior staff.’

Cortez frowned. ‘That’s not against regulations. Not even best practice on Endeavour; Lindgren said she dated one of my engineers and she’s senior staff…’

‘She’s not the XO.’

‘That’s still not against regulations, and I don’t think Rourke would care -’ Cortez stopped, and lifted her hands. ‘You could have just dropped it when I said “forget it,” you know.’

‘It’s not -’ Valance winced. ‘It’s entirely that I think it’d be inappropriate.’

‘That’s an excuse,’ said Cortez, standing. ‘And I’d love to handle this gracefully, but I gave you the out and you instead dangled me on the line a bit, so… I’m gonna take my hurt pride, Commander, and nurse it someplace else.’

‘Lieutenant -’

‘You have a good morning.’

Valance hadn’t seen Cortez angry before. Wrong-footed, yes, but this was a sudden enough shift in the engineer’s temperament that Valance didn’t try again to stop Cortez from grabbing her coffee and leaving. They drew glances from nearby officers, the tension of their exchange clear.

‘Shit,’ Valance hissed, stabbing her breakfast again. She grabbed her PADD, checking for Airex’s location. Science Lab A. But she was on the bridge in five minutes, so all she could do was bring up the messaging system. It took her three tries to compose a suggestion to meet; three tries before she came up with the masterfully succinct: ‘Lunch?’

And now she was going to have to keep this out of her head through a long shift preparing for Endeavour’s next mission – a mission she knew could bring them into a final battle with the Wild Hunt.

‘We crossed the Federation border into the Triangle last night at 0200 hours,’ Rourke confirmed for the senior staff gathered in the conference room. ‘Our orders at present are to proceed no further than the Azure Nebula, where we will rendezvous with supporting vessels in two days.’

Kharth consulted a PADD. ‘Do we know which yet?’

‘I’m told to expect the Caliburn, and we’re promised whatever frigate can be spared,’ said Rourke.

Airex cocked his head. ‘Is that putting Captain Hargreaves in overall command?’

Rourke tried to not look irritated. It was a reasonable question; Kehinde Hargreaves had seniority in rank and service. ‘My experience with the Wild Hunt in particular and this sort of pirate operation in general has me overseeing this mission, especially with Endeavour’s tactical superiority.’

Kharth looked at Airex. ‘Didn’t the Caliburn root out that smuggling op from Frigaha?’

‘That’s the one,’ Airex said. ‘They’d been skimming off the dilithium shipments for years and disguising the stolen goods as ore which was jettisoned for not meeting industrial standards; the whole mining operation was almost shut down for low yields before Captain Hargreaves -’

‘Let’s be clear; the Caliburn was offering assistance to the local miners and happened to drop out of warp on top of an exchange of stolen goods,’ said Rourke, lifting his hands. ‘I’m not being dismissive of Captain Hargreaves; he’s got a great record but not when it comes to these kinds of operations.’

Valance leaned forward. ‘We arrive at the rendezvous in 32 hours,’ she said, but she cut in with a tone suggesting Rourke, not Airex and Kharth, had been diverting the discussion. ‘What’re our orders until the meeting?’

‘Stay hidden,’ said Rourke, trying to not grit his teeth through the obvious question. ‘While we’re sending three ships, I want us to maintain the element of surprise against the Wild Hunt.’

‘No reconnaissance in that time?’ Valance raised her eyebrows. ‘We can prepare the King Arthur with the scout configuration -’

‘And if the runabout’s spotted, we have to leap into action before our reinforcements are in place,’ he interrupted. ‘Which puts us at risk of fighting more than we can handle, or the Wild Hunt going to ground again.’ He tried to not sound too firm – enough to shut her up, not so sharp he sounded insecure. ‘We’ll maintain long-range sensors so we have some indication if the Wild Hunt are leaving. They clearly have significant resources and contacts, and someone at T’lhab Station may have warned them we’re coming. But we wait for our allies. I want the King Arthur in gunboat configuration.’

Her expression set. ‘She’ll be a better reconnaissance craft than any frigate when the time does come.’

‘Our intention at present is for Endeavour and the frigate to approach the Wild Hunt’s emplacement, with the Caliburn hanging back to block escape and then tighten the net. The King Arthur will lend necessary manoeuvrability to reinforce her and tie up any Blackbirds if vessels try to scatter,’ Rourke explained.

‘So we’re not conducting any scouting.’

Rourke could feel others around the table shift their weight. He wasn’t sure if it was at Valance’s tone or his own, obvious irritation; a lack of sleep and his row with Josie had left him impatient. ‘We’re anticipating further intelligence reports over the next two days. Myself and the commanding officers will discuss any further need for reconnaissance then. In the meantime, XO, I want more battle drills run for the Alpha Shift. Several simulations have been prepared.’

‘I saw,’ Valance said, and he braced himself for her next comment. ‘They seem derived from border skirmishes with Orion craft rather than the de-escalation protocols for pirate activity. Are we treating criminals as enemy combatants now?’

‘We’re treating a group with at least three military-grade escort-type vessels and a likely armed station as exactly that,’ Rourke said flatly. ‘You’re thinking of protocols designed for simple border cutters and armed freighters against pirates more likely to hit and run; if the Wild Hunt have one or even two more ships, or heavy armament on a station, we’re not talking about rooting out some bandits. We’re up against a strike force.’

He looked back at the assembled senior staff before she could reply. ‘I think some of you may be delusional about, if not the mission ahead, then the ship you’re on. The Wild Hunt have murdered Starfleet officers and abducted children. They’ve presided over a reign of terror for a whole sector. Endeavour wasn’t sent after them because you ran into them once, or because she was nearest. This is a Manticore-class Heavy Escort, and I hate to burst your bubbles, but that’s Starfleet for “shit kicker.”’

Airex rolled a shoulder. ‘Sir, we know -’

‘You apparently don’t, Commander Airex, because you’ve been bellyaching for weeks that I had the gall to remove an anthropology lab to make space for a dedicated command and control centre to analyse mission critical data.’ He stabbed a finger at Thawn, who looked startled. ‘You, Lieutenant, have been more interested in fighting change than integrating with your closest professional partner on the bridge in a combat situation. You, Counsellor, are still wearing a goddamn sweater.’ Carraway froze mid-sip of tea.

But Rourke pressed on. ‘Endeavour’s mission for the last three years was to protect a ragged frontier from threat. Captain MacCallister didn’t magically turn this duty into one of exploration and diplomacy; you got lucky because you were in a remote region that turned out to be sleepy. And in the meantime, you got sleepy, forgetting that the universe is not the place it was fifteen years ago.’ He chewed the inside of his lip, but couldn’t stop himself. ‘You’re sat thinking right now that the old man you worship wouldn’t talk to you like this – maybe he should have done. Because he did you a hell of a disservice coddling you these years.’

Valance sat up. ‘The captain -’

‘I’m the captain now. And we are on a combat mission.’ His gaze swept across everyone; the flat-faced Airex, the rather horrified Thawn and Carraway, everyone else looking like they were just relieved to be out of the line of fire. ‘Don’t worry. You’ll be rid of me when it’s over. But I am done with my senior staff behaving like I’m dragging you into the mud just because I’m a brute. None of you doubt the Wild Hunt are dangerous or are bad guys. Don’t you judge me just because I say it and consider it when making operational decisions. We rendezvous in 45 hours.’ He looked at Valance. ‘Combat drills. Get it done. All of you, dismissed.’

Airex and Valance were first out the door, but most of the rest weren’t much slower, either hurt like Thawn or fleeing like Kharth and Drake. Carraway looked for a moment like he might linger, but shook his head and walked out.

Rourke’s shoulders sagged as Sadek stayed put, though. ‘Aisha, I don’t want to -’

‘Oh, Valance baited you,’ said Sadek, sipping her tea. ‘Everyone could see it, and Airex is the only one who’d defend her doing it. I bet she thought she wanted you to lose your temper, more fool her. She’d have been better off with you just gritting your teeth and looking pissy all meeting.’

He scowled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘I mean she didn’t know you go for the jugular when your blood’s up. That was savage, Matt.’ She put down her cup. ‘No less than they deserved. You were right, they hate the Wild Hunt but they turn their noses up at you treating them like the threat we all know they are. When their beloved MacCallister got blown up for his efforts.’

He hadn’t expected validation. It took the wind out of his sails, and Rourke sagged with a sigh. ‘Thawn didn’t deserve that,’ he muttered. ‘She’s clearly been making an effort with Drake lately.’

‘Yes, but she was a precious little madam, as my mother would say, until then. I don’t think any of them have had a telling off like this in a long time, and it shows. It might not do crew integration any good, but I think it’ll get everyone in the right headspace for the mission – and then, like you said, you’re gone, aren’t you?’ Her eyebrows raised at him.

‘You’re saying I’m making a mess for someone else to clean up.’

‘Maybe, but I’m not sticking around once you’re gone, so who gives a toss,’ she pointed out. ‘I didn’t stay behind because I’m worried about the crew. I’m sat here because I – knowing your temper – know you almost never take it out on your staff like that. So what’s up?’

Rourke waved a vague hand. ‘Does there need to be anything new?’

‘You’ve clearly not slept. Which isn’t a good look on a combat commander.’

He bit his lip. ‘When did I become that?’ he sighed. ‘I was a peacekeeper, Aisha.’

‘A job which very often comes with a big gun,’ she pointed out. ‘That’s just the way the galaxy works, Matt. I don’t mean that cynically; God knows I’ve seen you do your share of deescalation, but when someone else has got a bloody big gun and they want to use it, there are only so many ways to stop them. Is that what’s bugging you?’

He fidgeted with a PADD. ‘Torkath told me I shouldn’t go back to the Academy.’

‘Torkath would prefer you two recreating your glory days with Bravo Team, maybe with added bathing in the blood of your enemies.’

‘No. No, he just meant I shouldn’t go back. That I should… do something.’

‘I tell you this for a solid year in every single letter and you ignore me, but Torkath says this when you’re in the middle of your most important assignment in years -’

‘Suppose I wasn’t ready to hear it before.’ He looked up at her. ‘I guess he’s right. You’re right. Whatever I do next should be… be something, you know? And I don’t know what that is, I don’t know what I do any more, what I want any more. I guess I haven’t known for a long time and even here I’m just… going through the motions of the job because it needs doing, and because of bloody Erik Halvard…’ He sighed, and scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘I dreamed of Lily last night.’

‘Ah.’

‘If this is Erik -’

‘You’re very sure it’s not -’

‘But if it’s him, then maybe she’s alive, too.’ He sat up, chest tight. ‘Maybe -’

‘I can guaran-bloody-tee you that if she is alive, you’re not sensing it in a dream, Matt. God, you’ve had a real job for four weeks and you already need a vacation. I mean. It is this job.’ It was her turn to vaguely gesture at everything. ‘I’d say you should talk to Carraway before we face the Wild Hunt, but that man is clearly very proud of his sweaters, so…’

‘Shit.’ Rourke slumped back. ‘I didn’t mean to yell at them like that. They’ve got a hard job.’

‘I’ve already said my piece on it.’

‘Yeah, but you don’t have to live with my bad decisions.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’

‘Did you stay back to comfort me or be sardonic at me?’

‘Matt, we’ve known each other for over twenty years. Of course the answer is “both.”’ She sat up. ‘If you don’t talk to Carraway, then you get me. And I’m not smart like a shrink, I don’t tell you things you’ve not figured out. I tell you things you know, but that you’re hiding from. Lily is dead.’

He flinched. ‘I know.’

‘Erik’s dead. They died two years ago. Thinking anything else is letting this arsehole running around with Erik’s face win, because he’s doing it to get under people’s skin and confuse them. And you didn’t dream about Lily because you think she might be alive, you dreamed about her because Torkath made you think about a future, and she’s the last future you ever knew.’

Rourke let out a slow breath. ‘Jesus Christ, Aisha. You said I was savage.’

‘Nobody does well if they’re deluding themselves. I think today has been healthy for everyone.’

He frowned and looked at her. ‘You know we’re getting through this, right?’

‘I’m not exactly quaking in my boots,’ said Sadek, ‘but you absolutely cannot guarantee I, or anyone, will survive bringing down the Wild Hunt.’

‘You’re the Chief Medical Officer. It’s one of the safest roles aboard.’

‘But Yasmin would never forgive me.’ Sadek sighed. ‘So I worry about her, if I died. It’s been six years since she ever thought I might, and coincidentally I was on a ship with you then, as well. I’m not going to say we’re getting old – I’m forty-one, for heaven’s sake – but we all thought we were past this. So, yeah. I worry about her, not me.’

‘Okay. I believe you.’ His frown deepened. ‘So there’s something else.’

‘What?’

He sat up. ‘You like it here.’

‘I don’t -’

‘Ha!’ He stabbed an accusing finger at her. ‘For all your fussing about leaving Facility Muldoon, you’ve been bored shitless there and on Starbase 8, haven’t you. And now the kids are practically grown-up, you don’t need to be all about the family any more, you’re back on an assignment in the thick of it, and you love it.’

She gave him an unimpressed look, then shrugged. ‘Well. One of us has to.’

He sat back, snickering, satisfied that for once he could analyse her unhelpful feelings. But he sobered in a moment, and sighed. ‘I’m going to have to apologise to them, aren’t I.’

‘Maybe Carraway. Probably Thawn. I bet Lindgren feels left out you didn’t savage her.’ Sadek tilted her head this way and that. ‘So my kids are practically grown-up and you never see yours, but the good news is that we’ve got some new kids right here and they need their hands holding through this utter catastrophe to come.’

‘I don’t believe him,’ Valance snapped, practically wearing a hole in her carpet as she paced about her office. ‘How dare he speak to us like that? Speak about the captain like that?’

Airex looked at the sandwich the replicator had given him, and sighed like he realised this was going to be a standing lunch. ‘He was out of line -’

‘Out of line? He dressed you, me, Thawn, Carraway down like we were schoolchildren. He said we were coddled by Captain MacCallister. All to push the fact he’s Starfleet’s thug, brought here to turn this into a weapon of war on the Klingon border.’

Airex grimaced. ‘He was right about that, though. That we’re already a weapon of war; this is a Manticore, Karana. Captain MacCallister was exceptional and he probably was lucky running this like an explorer, and we both know that drove Command spare because, really, a much older ship could have been doing our job.’

Valance stopped and glowered at him. ‘It was an achievement, an example other captains should emulate. Not that this jumped-up… thief-taker… should be shaming.’

‘You did antagonise him,’ he pointed out. ‘What were you trying to achieve, nitpicking his meeting like that? I don’t like Rourke much more than you, but of course we’re going to use all possible force against the Wild Hunt, of course we don’t want to show our hand too soon. You were trying to make him look like an idiot.’

‘I don’t need to try,’ Valance muttered. ‘And that doesn’t justify his reaction – to me, to you.’

‘Oh.’ He sighed. ‘This was the sort of conversation where I leave rationality at the door and just sympathise.’ She glared at him again, and he shrugged. ‘That’s not often your style. Besides. This isn’t what’s wrong.’

‘Of course it’s what’s wrong -’

‘You suggested lunch this morning, before the briefing. About five minutes before shift.’

‘Is that not allowed?’

Airex sighed, and stared at a point on the wall for a moment. ‘It suggests something was bothering you before you went into that meeting. Which perhaps influenced your behaviour.’

‘I can control my anger.’

‘That’s generally true,’ he allowed, ‘in that you don’t normally let it out. When it does get out, it’s… intense.’ She hesitated, and he sighed again. ‘Karana. What’s wrong?’

She stopped, hands on her hips, and now glared at the carpet. ‘I don’t know why I’m angry.’

‘But something did happen.’

Now she looked at the wall, the door, the ceiling; anything but him before she said, voice taut, ‘Cortez asked me on a date.’

‘Okay.’

‘Okay? That’s not okay.’

Airex hesitated. ‘Was this a surprise? What did you say?’

‘Of course I turned her down. I’m the XO, she’s the Chief Engineer. And don’t you give me that crap about it not being against regulations.’

‘I mean, it’s not.’ Airex picked up his sandwich. ‘I understand drawing professional boundaries. But why did that rattle you?’

‘She -’ Valance had to stop and think before she could try again. ‘I may have expressed myself poorly. I hesitated, she took that as a soft rejection and backed off, but I wanted to explain that I – that it wasn’t about her, that I wouldn’t date any member of this crew…’

‘Explaining rejections,’ he said delicately, ‘usually isn’t much comfort to the person being rejected. But I ask again. Why did that bother you?’

‘She said…’ Another hesitation. ‘She said it was an excuse.’

Airex looked at her. ‘Is it? I’m not saying you should have done anything. You don’t know Cortez very well, and it is risky for senior officers to date. You also might have no interest in dating her. I…’ He sighed and shook his head. ‘Truth be told, Karana, you’ve not had the slightest romantic entanglement all the time we’ve known each other. I have no idea what you’re thinking.’

‘I don’t… it’s been a while,’ she admitted. Sort of. ‘I don’t know. You’re right, it shouldn’t bother me.’

‘I didn’t say that…’

She picked up a PADD. ‘You’re due a bridge shift, aren’t you? I need to prepare those battle drills Rourke asked for, so I’ll have to pull the latest intel out of the CIC.’

Airex sighed as he stood. ‘My least favourite thing about the changes aboard,’ he said, ‘is that they seem to demand more and more honest conversations.’

‘We’re good at those,’ Valance agreed. ‘We’ll catch up later, Dav.’

‘No,’ he pointed out. ‘We’ll just pretend we did.’

Then he was gone, she was due in the CIC, and she’d not even had lunch. Her appetite would have to wait, she told herself as she gathered the PADDs with her notes for the battle drills, and headed down.

It turned out to be just as well, because all she found in the CIC was Rourke on his own and a fresh wave of nausea. ‘Commander.’

He was stood at the circular holo-display at the centre, and turned to her with a flat expression. ‘I made a grievous error telling you not to call me “Captain” when I boarded, didn’t I.’

Her throat tightened as she descended the stairway. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘I notice you call me “sir” as little as possible,’ said Rourke, watching her. ‘So we call each other “Commander.” Implies we’re equal, no?’

‘Commander -’ She stopped herself. ‘Sir, I’m just here to consult our latest intel for those battle drills you asked for.’

He drew a deep breath, looked at the controls, then stepped away. ‘I’m aware that I lost my temper in this morning’s meeting,’ he said at length.

She didn’t look at him as she went to the display and started to bring up the latest intel reports. ‘I think that you owe an apology to Commander Airex and the lieutenants.’

‘Perhaps.’ He didn’t sound like he was much listening. ‘I was going to add that your behaviour was also thoroughly out of line. Lieutenant Commander.’

She stopped and turned. Airex’s words echoed in her, that she’d antagonised him, needlessly nitpicked. But here he was, trying to lay down the law after his unacceptable reaction. ‘I don’t question your credentials in pirate hunting. Sir.’ It took effort to not sound sardonic; saying the word deliberately always came across as insincere. ‘But I maintain that even with the threat the Wild Hunt present, we cannot forget our fundamental duty -’

‘Again, Commander, you assume that because I am preparing a tactical response, I have no interest in non-violent alternatives,’ he snapped. ‘If you think I need lecturing on that fundamental duty, please. Give me your suggestions.’

‘I did.’ She jabbed a finger at the holodisplay of the most up-to-date strategic map Starfleet had of the Triangle. ‘It included extensive reconnaissance so we could make a plan which would minimise loss of life, not charging in phasers blazing.’

‘And I explained the risks of discovery before the task group is assembled.’

‘Anything but going in and blowing up all potential threats with extreme prejudice, anywhere in the galaxy, is a risk. It’s our duty as Starfleet officers to take on those risks ourselves to reduce violence.’ She hesitated. ‘We had this conversation before.’

‘About my approach at Lockstowe. I hadn’t realised you were still this opposed to my methods.’ Rourke’s shoulders tensed. ‘But if you don’t question my credentials, Commander, trust me when I say this: there are times you cannot talk your way out. Not with these kinds of people.’

There was a virulence to his voice she’d not heard before, not even in the morning’s argument. That wasn’t what stopped her short, but the question she had to ask herself: was she still this opposed to his methods? After fighting Korta, after seeing what the Wild Hunt could do, after his assurances in the debrief at Lockstowe? Or was she just so determined to not let MacCallister down that she’d over-corrected, and so rattled by Cortez that morning she’d been like a live wire?

But before she could answer these questions, for herself or for Rourke, the power cut to lights and holo-display and control panels alike, and they and the whole CIC were pitched into darkness.

* *

‘So we’ve rearranged the lockers,’ Otero explained as he gestured to points on the holo-display of the ship’s deck layouts. ‘Previously it was small arms only in sections civilians might have access to. We can’t remove all of those – regs – but I’ve done a new risk assessment and emptied some. Rifles and larger munitions can only be accessed from more restricted areas.’

Kharth sighed. She couldn’t argue with the logic, but she felt in her gut that the Wild Hunt wouldn’t pull the same trick twice. Still, it’d be egg on her face if they did and she took no precautions, and it at least let Otero feel safer. ‘Good job, Petty Officer. Make sure everyone is briefed on these. Also work with Chief Kowalski on a few anti-boarding readiness drills.’

It was the kind of minutiae she hated ahead of a possible engagement. Being ready was important, and small details mattered. But some crews fretted over those, and she had to balance between what mattered, what just made them feel better, and what helped them stew. The Wild Hunt hadn’t crawled under her skin like they had most everyone else, so for her, this was just another combat scenario looming.

But she had to sign off on their work, which was why she was nose-deep in a PADD when she hopped on the turbolift for a bridge shift, and clipped Thawn’s shoulder. ‘Oh, sorry, Lieutenant.’

The operations officer looked surprised. ‘Um. That’s okay.’

Did she expect me to shove her and not apologise? Kharth looked up and took in her rather pale face. ‘You alright?’

‘I…’

‘Rourke went pretty hard for you this morning.’

‘He went hard for all of us.’

‘No. He went hard for all the original crew. Some of them deserved it. You didn’t.’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t think he sees the difference between us.’

Kharth thought she’d leave that alone, and looked at her PADD. But it niggled. ‘It might help if you didn’t treat him like an interloper. And the new staff.’

Thawn straightened. ‘I don’t -’

‘Not just you,’ Kharth allowed, ‘though you’ve given Drake a hell of a time.’

‘Lieutenant Drake and I have reached… an accord. And I’m not responsible for what Commanders Valance and Airex do. What should I do, tell them to behave?’

Kharth hesitated, then remembered she started this by expressing sympathy. ‘It’d just be worth accepting that some of us might be around for a while. Even the Commander.’

‘Captain MacCallister -’

‘Is going to need months of recovery time and physical therapy and will probably be discouraged from commanding a Manticore, even if he returns to starship command. I wouldn’t bank on him coming back.’ Kharth squinted. ‘Was he everyone’s favourite grandfather or something?’

Thawn looked away, a bit abashed. ‘My grandfather would prefer I weren’t in Starfleet and kept to a socialite life on Betazed. So he’s an improvement. I don’t know about yours -’

‘Well, my family’s standing wasn’t the best fifteen years ago so they had a really low evacuation priority, and by the time the Federation pulled out of helping they weren’t going to be shipped off Romulus… so they’re very, very dead.’ It was petty. She felt petty as she said it. But Kharth was tired, intensely tired, of Endeavour’s factionalism when she had far more complicated loyalties.

She opened her mouth to apologise, but then the lights went dead.

* *

Airex opened his eyes, and for a heartbeat thought he was still unconscious because all he could see was black. Then he craned his neck and saw the faint gleam of the bridge’s emergency lighting. The low hum of the alert siren reached his ears at last, and the disorientation of sensory deprivation faded.

He pushed up off the deck of the bridge. ‘Report?’

A shadow moved at Engineering – Cortez. ‘We dropped out of warp. Lost power, whole ship. Trying to bring it back on; doesn’t seem to be a systems problem…’

‘That’s a pleasant surprise,’ he groaned, and moved back to the command chair. ‘What happened?’ Airex liked bridge shifts. He’d only taken to them after being Joined, when the symbiont’s influence and experience had made him more interested in starship command and operations. So while most officers of his experience had clocked hundreds of hours by now, he’d only been doing this regularly since his assignment to Endeavour three years ago. The novelty factor remained.

Until now, when they’d been yanked out of warp in the dangerous territory of the Triangle.

Lights flooded back on after a moment of Cortez’s work. ‘Restoring power to all decks…’

‘Sensors back on,’ confirmed Drake. ‘No sign of anyone out there.’

‘Running internal and external scans to see what hit us…’

‘Sir.’ Lindgren looked up from Comms. ‘I’m getting reports from all over the ship; minor damage and injuries only, but there’s nothing coming in from anything below Deck 15.’

Cortez frowned at that. ‘Power isn’t coming back on those decks. I’m -’ She paused.

Airex sat up. ‘Lieutenant?’

‘I’m getting massive gravimetric distortions near us. Around us.’ She took a moment, checked sensors again. ‘I think we’re caught in some kind of anomaly. Sensors didn’t give the automated alert because it’s not matching any profile. But the decks without power look like they’re submerged in this gravimetric distortion.’

‘That’s still very vague, Lieutenant.’ He stood from the command chair and went to his post at Science, ushering the reserve officer away to examine his sensors. Then he blinked. ‘That’s crazy.’

‘Right?’ said Cortez.

‘It’s not a black hole,’ he said, ‘but it looks similar. We wouldn’t be in one piece still if we’d been caught in one like this, and we’d have detected it sooner. This is an interphasic rift.’

Lindgren looked blank. ‘Sir?’

‘A literal tear in the fabric of space,’ he explained. ‘No, I don’t know what that yet means.’

‘Power’s fluctuating across all decks,’ Cortez reported. ‘It’s like the anomaly is draining us.’

‘Do we have shields, sensors?’

‘For now.’ She sucked her teeth. ‘Commander, I think we might be – slowly – sinking further into this interphasic rift. We don’t have power on those decks, and they’re…’

Again she stopped, and he looked over at her. ‘Lieutenant. You have to say, even if it sounds crazy.’

‘It’s pretty crazy. The quantum signature on those decks is… fluctuating.’

Lindgren sat up as Airex stared. ‘Sirs, I’m going to have to be the linguist in the room and ask for a translation…’

‘All matter in the universe resonates on a unique quantum signature,’ he explained. ‘This can’t be changed. It’s… it’s fundamental.’

Cortez turned to him. ‘Except…’

‘Except for the possibility of -’ He snapped his fingers. ‘Computer, send Starfleet’s major reports on quantum and parallel universes to my PADD.’ Airex tried to not sound too excited as he looked at the bridge crew. ‘I suspect this is a quantum fissure – it would mean we’re on some level intersecting with other quantum realities. I’ll need to check records before I can advise Commander Rourke…’

‘Ah,’ said Lindgren in a new tone. ‘So I’ve still not heard anything back from anything below Deck 15.’

‘Oh no,’ groaned Cortez. ‘CIC?’

‘Which is the last known location of Commander Rourke and Commander Valance,’ said Lingren with a wince, and looked at Airex, who only now raised his head from his PADD, scientific excitement fading from the earlier fizz in his veins. ‘Sir, you’re in command.’

‘Rourke!’

His eyes flickered open to find Valance bent over him. It didn’t sound like this was her first try to get his attention, and his head was pounding too badly to care about propriety. ‘I’m… Christ. I’m awake.’

‘Alive had been my bigger concern.’ She stood and offered him a hand up, which he took. ‘I don’t know what hit us. I can’t raise anyone on comms.’

The CIC was bathed in dim emergency lighting, and when he staggered to a panel he found it unresponsive. ‘Come on – emergency power my arse, I’m the goddamn CO.’ His lip curled as he jabbed in his command override, authorising a power reallocation to this junction so he could check the ship’s systems.

Access Denied.

Valance joined him. ‘Let me try.’

Access Denied.

Rourke straightened. ‘Computer? Why are my authorisation codes not working?’

‘Command codes not recognised for USS Endeavour NCC-87507 –’

‘Yes, but…’ Rourke realised why was not going to cut it. ‘Computer, what level of Starfleet access do I have?’

‘Commander Matthew Rourke: Access Level Sigma-3.’

They looked at each other, nonplussed. Valance cocked her head. ‘That’s not starship command access.’

‘No, that’s… I’ve not been on Sigma-grade access since I was Security Investigations. 6, back then.’ The scale went down; he’d never had Sigma-3.

Valance drew a deep breath. ‘Computer, identify my level of Starfleet access?’

‘Commander Karana Valance: Access Level Epsilon-3.’

‘That’s not right,’ Valance said. ‘I’m Epsilon-4 -’

‘Computer, did you say Commander?’ Rourke butted in. ‘Not Lieutenant Commander?’

‘Affirmative.’

She put her hands on her hips. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Computer, what are the assignments for Commanders Rourke and Valance?’

‘Commander Rourke, Matthew. Deputy Director, Starfleet Investigations Service. Commander Valance, Karana. Commanding Officer, USS Odysseus.’

Rourke let out a low whistle. ‘Neat,’ he breathed. ‘I’ve never dealt with a parallel universe before.’

‘It might not be -’ She paused. ‘Computer, have either of us ever served on the USS Endeavour?’

‘Negative.’

‘Alright, so we’re in a parallel universe.’ Valance squinted. ‘That doesn’t explain why I can’t communicate with the bridge or why the doors are locked.’

‘If I have Sigma-3 clearance,’ said Rourke, frowning at the controls, ‘I should be able to flag Endeavour’s situation as an Active Incident, which should give me some shipboard authority – yeah.’ He tapped a few commands. ‘No jurisdiction beyond this ship, we’re not in Federation territory, so this has to be a shipboard legal incident…’ But the console blatted at him. ‘Hm. That should have worked.’

Valance’s lips thinned. ‘Computer,’ she said, sounding like she didn’t much want to speak on. ‘Can you show us our current location?’

The holo projector came to life. But instead of the focused map they’d seen dozens of times of their area of the Triangle, what they got was an incomprehensible kaleidoscope of shapes and colours.

‘What the hell -’

‘Nimbus,’ Valance read, somehow picking out labels from the mess of the display. ‘Alpha Centauri. Bajor. Beta Antares.’ She sounded resigned, though Rourke still didn’t understand. ‘The computer thinks we’re occupying about twelve places at once.’

He clicked his tongue. ‘This isn’t one parallel universe.’ The map began to grow brighter; they stepped back and shielded their eyes, but it only shone more and more, blinding. ‘Computer! Damn it, kill the display!’

And as suddenly as it started, it stopped, casting them back into darkness.

Rourke bent over, blinking away spots. ‘Bloody hell.’ And he straightened to find they weren’t in the CIC any more.

‘What’s this?’ Valance turned as visibility returned. Slowly, because they’d been quite blinded, and now they weren’t in absolute dark but in the gentle, atmospheric lighting of a crowded bar in the evening. ‘Where is this?’

His mouth went dry. ‘Oh.’

‘Oh what?’ Valance extended a hand towards a passing waiter – human, respectably dressed. ‘Excuse me -’ And her hand went through him.

This can’t be. He turned on the spot, looking at the view beyond the doors which confirmed it: the bulkheads of a Federation starbase. He turned again, gaze washing over the gathered crowds getting a drink of an evening, seeking a table at a far corner. But it was worse and weirder than he’d expected, because he didn’t just see the woman he’d anticipated and feared seeing sat there. He saw himself.

Valance followed his gaze, and her voice dropped. ‘What is this?’

But he just started for the table. The other him was as he’d expected. Younger. Clean-shaven. In the old uniforms with the gold shoulders and the black stripes, a lieutenant junior grade’s pips on his collar. He’d had the class, at least, to wear just those for the abhorrence that was about to happen.

Rourke didn’t know what he expected to achieve as he stormed through the bar; it was clear nobody could see them, that nobody had reacted to their bewildered arrival – appearance – in Café Rustique, the closest thing to a nice bar on Starbase 242. ‘Don’t do it, you stupid bastard,’ he said anyway as he reached the table with himself. And was utterly ignored.

‘I don’t think anyone can see us,’ Valance said pointlessly as she followed, but her eyes were guarded. ‘What is this?’

‘October 2384, Starbase 242,’ he growled. ‘Let me introduce Lieutenant Junior Grade Matt Rourke, prized dickhead, and his wife Tess Stone. Soon to be ex-wife.’

‘Listen,’ Lieutenant Rourke was saying, hands wrapped around a drink. ‘You’ve not been happy. You’ve not been happy for a while.’

Tess was younger, too, and more beautiful than he remembered. But he remembered that flash of anger in her eyes. ‘Don’t start like that, Matt. Don’t try to put this on me, like you’ve been happy and I’m the problem, or you’re doing me a favour.’

His younger self sat up. ‘I’m not about that. This is both of us.’

‘This,’ said Commander Rourke, the words bitter on his tongue, ‘is me screwing up my life. Because we’ve been living on this station two years, which was a terrible choice for her career but the best way for us to be together. We got married right after I graduated, tried long-distance while I was on the Discovery, and being on 242 was a compromise for us both.’

Valance winced. ‘If you don’t have a family ship, Starfleet marriages are difficult…’

‘And after dragging her here for two years for us to both be miserable, I’m jumping at the chance I just got: a promotion and my own Security Investigations team. And pulling the plug on the whole relationship. The whole marriage.’ Rourke’s lip curled. ‘Cos it’s hard, you see.’ His younger self and Tess were arguing by now, the words washing over him because he’d heard this a hundred times before in his head, over and over.

Valance shifted her weight. ‘Isn’t it better to end a relationship that wasn’t working? You both seem – bitter, angry. What’s the alternative? You make a different compromise for your career?’

‘Yeah,’ said Rourke with a snap. ‘Yeah, I let her take the lead for a bit and I follow her, even if it means not getting an exciting border station post, or not getting my own team. I owed her that much.’ He let out a ragged breath. ‘Or I should have listened more, or talked more. Because what I didn’t know, what she didn’t tell me -’

Except that was the moment Tess opened her mouth and said, ‘Matt, I’m pregnant,’ and his blood went cold.

‘What?’ said both Matt Rourkes in unison.

Valance looked like she wanted to be somewhere else. ‘Why is that… is she not pregnant?’

Commander Rourke worked his jaw for a few long moments. ‘I – she is. But she didn’t tell me. Not then. We split up, started divorce proceedings, she only told me later… told me she didn’t want me to stick around for the kid, but it wouldn’t have been like that.’

Valance looked between all three of them. Lieutenant Rourke was still too gobsmacked to contribute much. ‘So why is she saying this now?’

‘I don’t… I don’t know…’

‘If we were in – are in – if something’s going on with parallel universes,’ said Valance, ‘then is this it? A moment which changed your life? If she’d said this, would you have stayed together and not taken the assignments you’ve taken, and ended up in the Investigations Service by now? A more desk-based career for a man with a family?’

Commander Rourke took a step back from the table, trying to not look at the dawning expression of shocked delight on his younger self’s face. ‘Maybe. But that – but other things would change.’ The Firebrand. That’d all be different, that…

‘I don’t know why or how we’re seeing it,’ Valance said, ‘but the only logical conclusion is we’ve become untethered from our place in time and space and… and our version of these.’

‘Right.’ He turned away, pushing whatever the hell happened to that Lieutenant Rourke away from sight as well as thought. She was right; something dangerous was happening to them, and it was not the time to reflect on his past. That could come when he was alive and home. ‘Are we supposed to fix this?’

‘Set it back to how it should have happened?’ she asked. ‘Maybe. Do we wreck your marriage?’

‘Hell’s teeth, Valance, you just took it to Warp 10 immediately.’

‘I’m thinking aloud,’ she admitted, and tried to knock a glass over. Her hand went through that, as well.

‘You think smashing something is going to break us up?’

‘You don’t seem happy. Getting past the shock of pregnancy might make you two remember you were just about to get a divorce.’

His chest tightened. ‘It’s more complicated than that,’ he insisted. ‘Why don’t we pick over your most terrible and crucial moments?’

Which was when they were again pitched into darkness.

* *

‘Got it.’ Kharth shoved the turbolift hatch open and clambered up, before extending a hand to help Thawn onto the roof beside her.

‘I can’t see a thing.’

‘There’s not much to see,’ said Kharth, grateful for her limited low-light vision. ‘Just a turbolift shaft. Don’t worry, you have to work really hard to fall.’ She looked up at the towering tunnel. ‘Just a couple decks to the bridge. This way.’ Careful, she guided Thawn to the ladder, then led the way up.

‘Total power loss like this is… severe.’

‘It’s best to not think about it,’ said Kharth through gritted teeth as she began to climb.

‘To not – it’s our job to -’

‘Focus right now on getting to the bridge. That’s the place we’ll get answers. Anything else is a distraction where you’ll come up with a thousand worst-case scenarios when you can’t confirm or do anything about any of them.’

‘I guess.’ But Thawn was silent only a moment before she spoke again, more stubborn. ‘But it’s useful to have some hypotheses to bring.’

‘You keep serving on this ship on this mission, Lieutenant, and you’ll learn to compartmentalise.’ You’ll have to.

Thawn didn’t reply, at least, so they were silent for the rest of the climb. Kharth was careful as they reached Deck 1, knowing she’d be twitchy on the bridge if someone made a loud entrance through the turbolift doors, and used the manual override to crank them open only an inch before she called out, ‘It’s okay! It’s Kharth and Thawn, we’re coming in!’

Thawn had to clamber up beside her on the narrow ledge beside the doorway as Kharth cranked it open further, then they both staggered onto the bridge. Kharth stumbled and might have fallen if there hadn’t been a hand at her arm.

‘Are you alright?’ Airex sounded a lot more worried than she thought the situation warranted.

She squinted up at him, slightly roughly shrugging off his hand. ‘We just got stuck in a turbolift in a powercut, we’re fine -’

‘Captain?’

The tone of Thawn’s voice made Kharth look up, and her jaw dropped when she saw the man standing from the command chair. Not Matthew Rourke. But Leonidas MacCallister. ‘What the hell?’

‘Lieutenants; glad you’re alright,’ said MacCallister, hands clasped together with a warm smile. ‘We’re in a hell of a spot here. Rosara, if you could get to your station and help Engineering get power back online.’

Lindgren turned in her chair at Comms, looking to Airex. ‘Lieutenant? I could do with some assistance modulating this distress call to get through the interference.’

Kharth stared at Airex. ‘Lieutenant?’ Indeed, he was wearing only two pips.

‘Okay.’ MacCallister’s expression set and he walked around the cluster of command chairs towards them. ‘Something’s doubly amiss, isn’t it. Rosara, Saeihr, what’s wrong?’

She’d never met Leo MacCallister before, but at once Kharth understood why he could inspire such loyalty in his pain-in-the-ass crew. Everything was upside-down, but with just a few words it was clear he was taking them seriously and reassuring them all at once. Thawn was still dithering, so she drew a slow breath. ‘Captain MacCallister, this is probably going to sound insane. Who’s the CO of Endeavour?’

MacCallister shifted his feet with a frown. ‘Me.’

‘And I’m your Chief of Security.’

‘Yes. And Rosara’s Chief of Operations.’

‘And that’s Ensign Lindgren,’ she pressed on, pointing accordingly. ‘And that’s… Lieutenant… Airex.’

‘Airex?’ said the tall Trill, squinting. ‘Sae, what’s gotten into you?’

MacCallister folded his arms across his chest. ‘Lieutenant Hargan… give her a moment,’ he said.

The emphasis on name was subtle, but clear, and Kharth thought her heart was going to plough right out of her chest. Her mouth was dry as she turned. ‘…Dav?’

Davir Hargan gave his rueful smile of the uncertain academic, one she’d never seen come close to Airex’s lips. ‘You were expecting someone else?’

‘This is wrong,’ snapped Thawn at last, panic creeping in. ‘Captain, you’re in sickbay on Starbase 157, Lieutenant Commander Davir Airex is our Chief Science Officer, Matthew Rourke is in command of Endeavour…’

‘Alright, Rosara, alright,’ said MacCallister gently, and looked at Davir Hargan. ‘Dav. You observed our quantum signature across multiple decks was fluctuating.’

The science officer blinked, gaze snapping back to MacCallister. ‘Yes, Captain. I – I was just about to purport the possibility of the anomaly being in some way linked to a, or several, quantum or parallel universes.’ He straightened, and Kharth could see his brain running a mile a minute, read his face on this intellectual journey like she couldn’t any more. Not normally. ‘If the ship is submerged in the anomaly and we can’t restore power to some decks, I think it’s possible that different sections of the ship are existing in a different reality, possibly simultaneously.’

‘That could explain,’ said MacCallister, ‘why we can’t recover power to the whole ship. Some of these systems don’t exist in the same reality as each other.’ He looked at Thawn and Kharth. ‘And you, Lieutenants… are from a different quantum reality.’

Kharth nodded slowly, letting it all sink in. ‘Okay,’ she said at last. ‘This is fucked.’

She almost jumped out of her skin as a Jefferies Tube hatch swung open, and onto the bridge clambered a tall human officer she didn’t recognise, red uniform with a commander’s pips.

‘Sorry, Boss, no can do rerouting power from secondary systems,’ he said apologetically to MacCallister.

‘That’s alright, Rob; we’ve got Rosara here to help you out now,’ he said, and only then did he notice the nonplussed expressions of Kharth and Thawn. MacCallister sighed. ‘Commander Robert Templeton, my first officer.’

Templeton looked at them, nonplussed. ‘Okay. Things went strange while I was gone.’ He turned to the tube but, instead of closing it, extended a hand to help another officer out. ‘Sorry, bud, the bridge has gone weird…’

MacCallister sighed again. ‘And this is my Chief Helm Officer, Lieutenant -’

But Thawn went sheet-white as she saw the man Templeton helped out of the tube. ‘…Noah.’

Kharth looked between her and the face she barely recognised from personnel reports she’d barely looked at. ‘Pierce?’ She pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘…fuck.’

Rourke turned to take in the bridge. ‘What’s this – a Luna-class?’

‘Insignia.’ Valance’s voice was low, flat, and was staring at the command chair. ‘This is the USS Derby.’

‘Oh.’ He looked at the officers in the last generation’s uniform, many of them very junior, and when he followed his gaze he saw her. A youthful Lieutenant Valance in the central seat. ‘I reckon this isn’t just the Gamma Shift.’

‘No,’ said Valance, looking between herself and the viewscreen. ‘It isn’t.’

‘Lieutenant,’ said her younger self, hitting a comms button on her armrest. ‘I want you to prepare a rescue party. This is going to take a boarding mission.’

‘Boarding?’ That was a blue-shirted officer in a Lieutenant Commander’s pips. ‘Lieutenant, we’re heading to negotiations.’

Lieutenant Valance shook her head. ‘That’ll keep them occupied. They’ve got our senior staff; they won’t just hand them over. Not without huge cost to us, or huge cost to the stability on Plutark.’

Rourke looked between them, then at Commander Valance. ‘Staff officer scientist getting uppity?’

Her expression was cold. ‘Chief Medical Officer. Doctor Minnow advised caution and diplomacy.’

‘While you’re normally so gung-ho.’

She didn’t speak for a moment, listening to her younger self launch into an explanation. ‘This was a long time ago.’

Realising he’d get more answers from observing he did so, and couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at how different Lieutenant Valance was: animated, impassioned. ‘Risky,’ he said as the young officer laid out her plan. ‘Double-crossing a hostage negotiation?’ He felt his chest tighten at the thought, and didn’t say more.

‘That’s what Doctor Minnow said,’ said Commander Valance, right before Doctor Minnow told her past self exactly that. ‘But I thought I knew better.’

He turned to the viewscreen, showing the gentle turn of what he assumed was the world of Plutark. Then he looked at the uniforms, the displays, and finally Lieutenant Valance yourself. ‘You’re very young. What’s this; ten years ago? How high were you in the chain of command?’

‘Third officer,’ she sighed. ‘The captain was injured, she’s incapacitated in sickbay. The XO and Second Officer were abducted by the extremist faction I’m about to double-cross in negotiation, along with some other officers. And formally Doctor Minnow isn’t in the chain of command. Formally, Doctor Minnow hasn’t passed a bridge officer’s exam.’

Rourke took in the lines of experience stamped on Doctor Minnow’s face, the steel in her hair. ‘But Doctor Minnow has seen about four times as many crises as you.’ He looked back at Commander Valance. ‘Your plan is risky. I say that as an expert in this area. You ignored Minnow and the senior staff paid the price?’

He watched a muscle twitch in the corner of Valance’s jaw. ‘Let’s see.’ She looked back at her younger self, arguing still with the doctor.

‘There is a risk-reward factor,’ Doctor Minnow was saying, her voice low and level. ‘The longer we keep the commanders alive, the better. If we can enter into negotiations, they have to know that we cannot simply resolve their objections with the government of Plutark. They can’t expect to give us our people back, and in response we support them wholesale.’

‘You’re not making negotiation sound promising, Doctor,’ said Lieutenant Valance, not even watching Minnow as she studied a PADD.

‘We have to assume they’re rational actors,’ Minnow pressed. ‘Some of their grievances even have merit. We can support Federation interests and get our people back if we offer to act as go-betweens for them and the government. Bring their grievances to the table, get the government of Plutark to look at them.’

‘Giving them what they want because they abducted our people isn’t a good look for Starfleet.’

‘Then don’t frame it like that,’ said Minnow. ‘Say that you’ve seen they have a reasonable cause but you can’t possibly assist them in peaceful resolution with the government so long as they have our officers. But if they free them, this demonstrates them as rational and reasonable, and means Starfleet can assist as neutral arbitrators.’

Rourke clicked his tongue. ‘She either has a solid point or is very naively hoping that you’ll be negotiating with people who have the authority, as well as reasonable mentality, to reach that decision.’

‘It was impossible to say,’ said Commander Valance. ‘But this was the point I told her to go see to the captain.’ They watched Lieutenant Valance, and Rourke found his chest still oddly tight. Not for his own ghosts, but he could see the burdens on the young officer’s face. Unlike his XO, she was expressive, emotive. Unlike his XO, this young woman showed her struggles.

And at last Lieutenant Valance drew a deep breath. ‘Alright, Doctor,’ she said. ‘Let’s try it your way. But I’m going to keep the security team on standby.’

Commander Valance gave merely a huff in response. ‘I dare say we won’t see how that pans out.’

‘Except if this is anything like what happened to me, it ends up with you as a full Commander and the CO of the Odysseus by 2399,’ said Rourke bitterly.

‘And possibly still an air-headed, hot-blooded fool who never learnt her lesson.’

He straightened at that. ‘What did happen?’

‘I got what I deserved, and other people got what they didn’t,’ said Valance, toneless again. ‘We rescued the officers, but it started a firefight in high orbit and I downed their ship. It crashed into the atmosphere and I had to order the Derby to pursue. We couldn’t stop them, but they were on a trajectory to crash into a major settlement. We had to use the tractor beam to deflect. The crew still died, along with three civilians.’

‘That sounds…’ Rourke frowned. ‘Not like something you could have anticipated.’

‘I anticipated I’d be opening us up to violence,’ she pointed out. ‘But I thought, like I always did back then, that I could pull us out of the fire on grit and wits.’

‘A lot of young officers feel like this. You were, what. 28?’

‘27. It’s no excuse.’

So you went on to stick to regulations and the book, Rourke thought as he watched her. So you shut down, because you didn’t trust yourself or your instincts.

‘You can’t assume -’ he began to say. And then, again, the lights died.

* *

‘If we recalibrate the sensors,’ Airex theorised aloud, ‘to scan across a quantum level, then we might be able to see what’s trapping us. Get a better examination of the anomaly. It might take recalibrating the internal sensors.’ A silence met him from the bridge crew, and he raised his eyebrows. ‘You disagree?’

Cortez and Lindgren exchanged glances, then Lindgren shook her head. ‘No, sir, you just… you made it sound like a suggestion. You don’t need our say-so to act on your theories.’

Oh, right. I’m in command. He drew a slow breath. ‘Of course. I don’t suppose we’ve been lucky enough to locate Thawn?’

Cortez shook her head. ‘It looks like anyone who was below deck 15 when we hit the anomaly is… unaccounted for. Records suggest that’s Thawn and Kharth, as well as Rourke and Valance.’

He wondered if he’d caught something in her voice at the mention of Valance, then had to wonder if it was the way his own throat pinched at the mention of Kharth being missing. And decided that being in charge meant he didn’t have to think about his feelings. ‘We’ll make do,’ he said instead. ‘Lieutenant Drake, give me a hand with the sensor recalibration, then.’

Drake got up, not looking too optimistic. ‘Uh. I know how to handle navigational sensors…’

Airex tried to not look annoyed. His gaze went to Cortez. ‘Lieutenant?’

‘Like, I’m pretty genius,’ she said eloquently. ‘But quantum mechanics is not my forte. Besides.’ She stabbed a finger at her panel. ‘We are still losing what little power we have; we need to stop that, and that is my area of expertise.’

He blew out his cheeks. ‘Who’s not stuck in the anomaly?’ He went to the command chair only reluctantly, and brought up the holo-display for personnel down in Ops’ computing division. ‘No Athaka, no Bekk. Blast it.’ But he did spot a name, and hit the comms panel. ‘Bridge to Doctor Logan.’

A long pause. ‘Uhhh.’ Another long pause. ‘Are you sure you really want me?’

He’d met Josephine Logan when she’d boarded, and otherwise left the academic to her own research and her own management of Ops training. Once he might have relished engaging with the researcher, but instead he’d found himself always with something better to do with his time. ‘Doctor, this is Commander Airex. The ship is definitely in a crisis, yes, but I need assistance in maximising our computational processing speed to conduct and analyse sensor scans on a quantum level. I can’t get Lieutenant Thawn and there’s a programming element which is… a challenge for me.’

‘I don’t… I mean, I’d really need to know more but that’s theoretically -’ Another pause. ‘Are you asking me to come to the bridge?’

He rubbed his temples. ‘Are you unharmed, Doctor?’

‘Oh, I’m fine. I’m under my desk,’ said Logan. Drake gave a one-shouldered shrug, like this was a reasonable action. ‘Can I get to the bridge?’

‘You’re only a couple of decks down. Do you have a PADD near you?’ Airex picked up his own. ‘I can transmit you the route through the Jefferies Tubes. If you can get a light.’

‘It’s – it’s pitch dark down here.’

Airex tried to not frown. ‘If I send -’

‘No. No, you’ve got a crisis and I can help. Uh. Is Commander Rourke up there?’

‘We’ve lost contact with the deck Commander Rourke’s on. I’m in command.’

‘Oh.’ He wasn’t sure if she sounded worried or relieved. ‘Send it. I’m on my way. Logan out.’

Drake looked over. ‘So we get the civvie programmer to recalibrate our sensors.’

‘We don’t have enough information on what this anomaly is because we can’t detect it properly.’ Airex frowned at the display of what limited data they had. ‘I’m theorising we’re stuck in a breach to a quantum or parallel reality.’

‘What’s the difference?’ said Lindgren.

‘Scientifically, they’re the same,’ said Airex. ‘The theory of quantum universes suggests there exist alternate timelines in which any possible outcome of any single event in the history of space-time has come to pass. And matter in each of these resonates on the same quantum level as all other matter of that universe.’ He put down his PADD, moved back to the science console where he felt much, much more comfortable.

‘I’m concerned about the distinction,’ he pressed on, ‘because colloquially, we refer to a parallel universe as one akin to our own. The same laws of physics, biology – science – apply in a way with which we’re familiar. It’s been suggested that these have a much more similar, if distinct, quantum signature and it’s easier, when confronted with a quantum breach, for us to interact with those. Some of these parallel universes have been identified which are personally recognisable. In which the course of one’s own life has taken different turns.’

‘How does that help us?’ said Drake.

* *

‘It doesn’t yet,’ Lieutenant Davir Hargan told Captain MacCallister. ‘But it’s preferable to the alternative, in which we’re slipping into a vastly different quantum reality, wherein no recognisable laws of science apply, or anyone or anything we encounter in it is vastly unrecognisable.’

‘Yeah, at least I can confirm we’re from a fairly close reality,’ said Kharth, arms folded across her chest. ‘I’ve not noticed gravity working upside-down or anything.’

Davir’s expression pinched. ‘Gravity wouldn’t work upside-down – there’s no cosmic down.’

‘I was being colloquial, Dav,’ she said before she could stop herself.

His gaze brightened. ‘This really is fascinating.’

‘Sure,’ said Commander Robert Templeton, leaning against the XO’s chair. ‘Except that our Kharth and Thawn are either stuck somewhere on the ship we can’t reach, or are stuck in another reality.’

‘Along with most of your ship itself,’ Kharth agreed. ‘And my ship.’

Thawn piped up, voice low. ‘Can I ask what Endeavour was doing before this happened? Where are you?’ She hadn’t spoken for much of the last ten minutes, and Kharth had watched her studiously Not Looking at Noah Pierce.

‘This was just a survey mission,’ said Templeton with a sigh. ‘The Romulan Republic invited us to conduct scans along the old Triangle and into the Azure Nebula. It’s still a bit of a wild place, so Endeavour was sent.’

‘So you’re not,’ said Kharth, ‘hunting down the outpost of a dangerous, murderous pirate gang called the Wild Hunt?’ The other Endeavour’s crew exchanged looks. She hummed. ‘I guess things are pretty different.’

Davir Hargan still leaned across his console. ‘But you know all of us.’

‘Actually,’ said Kharth, ‘I don’t know him.’ She nodded at Templeton. ‘And I never met Captain MacCallister or Lieutenant Pierce.’

‘Why not?’

‘Well.’ Kharth shrugged. ‘There was a Wild Hunt attack on Endeavour, before I was assigned. Captain MacCallister was hospitalised long-term, like Thawn said. Lieutenant Pierce is dead.’

Noah Pierce was over at Comms with Ensign Lindgren, and looked up, doe-eyed. His gaze quickly went from her to Thawn and back again. ‘Dead?’

She saw Thawn hesitate, and decided to not drop her in it. ‘Bridge explosion in the pirate attack. Apparently.’

‘So – this is fascinating.’ David Hargan didn’t seem at all put off by this revelation. ‘In your reality, you and I only just transferred to Endeavour?’

She turned back to him and drew a slow, tense breath. ‘No. You’re joined to the Airex symbiont and have been on Endeavour, what, three years? I was on Starbase 371 all that time. I hadn’t seen you since we were on the Cavalier together.’ One thing she’d desperately not wanted to ask was if Davir Hargan and the Saeihr Kharth of his universe were still in a relationship. The look on his face as he put it all together gave her the answer, and in his silence she turned brusquely to MacCallister. ‘This might be fascinating, but we still have two ships in two universes stuck in the same anomaly.’

* *

‘I’m reading,’ said Josephine Logan as she leaned over the Ops console, ‘no less than seventeen hundred USS Endeavours trapped in this quantum anomaly. All existing in the same space-time simultaneously, but of course, it’s different. And that’s across ten times as many quantum realities this anomaly is bridging.’

It had taken the doctor ten minutes to climb to the bridge. Another five to bring her up to speed, but she’d grasped the concepts Airex was wrestling with quicker than Drake or even Cortez. Reconfiguring the sensor array and, more importantly, maximising the computer’s processing speed, even as it lost power, to be able to analyse the data of vast readings on a quantum level had taken at least thirty minutes. Alone, Airex knew it would have taken him three times as long.

Drake let out a low whistle. ‘Holy shit.’

‘This is amazing,’ said Airex, ‘but can be studied at-length in the logs once this is all over and our ship is safe. Lieutenant Cortez, what’s our systems status?’

‘We’re still losing power,’ said the engineer. ‘But the doc’s findings have given me an idea.’ She hit some controls, checked some readings, and sucked her teeth. ‘Yep. That makes sense, and it fucks us.’

Logan looked up, eyes wide. ‘What?’

‘There’s some overlay of the different Endeavours. Obviously physical matter isn’t existing all in the same space-time or we’d be smooshed into one,’ said Cortez. ‘But we don’t have enough power for all of the ship’s systems. I think to some extent energy is co-existing across all quantum realities simultaneously, which means the Endeavours and anything else out there are feeding off the same collective pool of power.’

Drake rubbed his temples. ‘God, I wish I was the one stuck in a turbolift.’

‘So…’ Logan winced. ‘It’s causing massive power fluctuations. Because the average power level of the Endeavours isn’t going to be 100 percent, that’s statistically impossible. It just takes several of those Endeavours to have lost power due to the anomaly or some other form of damage, and now the energy to power less than seventeen hundred Endeavours is trying to power seventeen hundred Endeavours.’

‘And it gets worse,’ said Cortez. ‘Power fluctuations are increasing, and power flow is harder to regulate, on the decks and systems closer to Deck 15 – closer to the anomaly. So proximity is… making us share space more? Or at least energy?’

Airex’s eyes widened as he rounded back on Cortez. ‘The warp core?’

‘Yeah, that’s the worse news. If the scans are right, we – and most of those other Endeavours – are sinking further into the anomaly. Which means at some point, maybe simultaneously, all of our warp cores are going to fall into the anomaly, and if the doc’s right, then all of our warp cores are going to exist in the exact same point in space-time and on a quantum level simultaneously.’

Drake looked between them. ‘Alright. It’s my job to say, “So?” isn’t it?’

Airex actually shrugged. ‘I don’t know what that means.’

‘Matter and anti-matter is an incredibly delicate mix,’ said Cortez. ‘How much do you want to bet that seventeen hundred M/AM Reaction Chambers coexisting at once ain’t gonna be delicate?’

‘I think I can translate that,’ said Lindgren sadly. ‘Boom?’

Cortez nodded. ‘Big boom.’

‘If we can detect them,’ said MacCallister, leaning back on the command chair, ‘we can communicate with them.’

Commander Templeton folded his arms. ‘And then what, sir? Say “Hey?”’

‘We can pool knowledge. Maybe resources,’ said MacCallister. ‘I know this crew can think their way out of any problem. How brilliant do you think seventeen hundred versions of us might be?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Kharth. ‘Some of them might be the shit Endeavour.’ Maybe I’m from the shit Endeavour.

‘There’s no universe I’ll believe that of,’ said MacCallister with a smile, sitting up. ‘And Rosara, I bet in all universes nobody knows the ship’s systems better than you?’

Thawn stepped up meekly. ‘I can’t promise – I mean, I’ll do my best.’

‘I know. Work with Elsa and Noah, see about isolating our sensor readings of other ships and trying to get them on comms.’ He turned to Kharth and beckoned her to the third chair, next to him and across from Templeton. ‘Your man Rourke. What’s he like?’

She bit her lip. ‘I bet he won’t be trying to hail everyone else, that’s for sure. I’ve only known him a few weeks, same as the rest of the crew.’

‘I’m assuming that every idea I’ve had is being attempted by a Captain MacCallister out there. But I don’t command every Endeavour. If we’re going to band together, until we can talk I have to do my best to anticipate what they’ll do. Bright ideas?’ His smile returned. ‘You might not have been there long, but I know you, Saeihr. You make it your business as Chief of Security to anticipate your CO.’

She tried to not flush, uncomfortable at what felt like presumption, and yet she could understand why he had earned such loyalties with his easy warmth and camaraderie. ‘He’s an investigator. He’s cautious and he’ll look for all the facts, but when he’s made a decision he goes hard for it. He tries to anticipate people, but he doesn’t rely on them doing things. He won’t be trusting other ships to act like you are, for instance, sir.’

‘Hm.’ MacCallister glanced around his bridge, then back to her. ‘How’re your crew doing? All of these losses. A new CO. You know, I know Karana Valance, she’s a real spitfire…’

‘Spitfire? Ice queen, more like.’ Kharth shrugged. ‘Different universe.’

‘That can’t make adapting to a change of situations after severe trauma easier.’

She frowned. ‘Captain, your ship’s stuck in a quantum anomaly. Is this time to worry about the wellbeing of the crew from another reality?’

‘My crew from another reality. And all I have to do for now is wait for the Comms team to finish’

Templeton’s head popped into view past MacCallister. ‘Yeah, he’s like this. You get used to it.’

‘I wasn’t planning on sticking around.’

‘If we break free,’ said Templeton, ‘do you get stuck here? Have we swapped you for our Kharth?’

‘Sorry, am I a downgrade?’

‘More sarcastic. I think you’d keep things real around here,’ said Templeton wryly.

‘I’m expecting,’ came Davir’s voice from Science over her shoulder, and it was enough to make her jump, ‘that the presence of Lieutenants Kharth and Thawn is a part of the overlap between Endeavours. I would expect that once we leave or close the singularity, their quantum frequency will be the determiner of which reality they end up in – not their place in space-time.’

‘Cheerful, Dav,’ said Kharth despite herself.

He flushed. ‘Sorry. That’s my best guess.’

At Ops, Thawn was in a similar situation of trying to ignore what felt like a wall of presence emanating off Noah Pierce. To the extent that when Elsa Lindgren said, ‘What do you think?’ she had to scrabble to catch up.

Only she would know if she’d slipped on decorum and quickly read Lindgren’s mind to know what the topic was. She cleared her throat. ‘I think part of the challenge is going to be any ship receiving our signal. So what if we don’t try to hail them, but instead try to contact them through the ship’s internal systems?’

Lindgren looked nonplussed, but Pierce moved from Helm to Ops, eyes bright. ‘You mean synchronising our internal communication systems with your Endeavour’s? Rely on the fact we’re kind of phased together, instead of trying to transmit and maybe nobody being able to receive?’

Of course he had finished her thoughts and plans. He always did. She didn’t quite meet his gaze as she nodded. ‘Exactly.’

‘Huh,’ said Lindgren. ‘That could work. Probably only with your ship; I’ll need you to tag it with your modulation code. The way those are generated, we can’t assume every Endeavour’s is going to match. Patch it to my station?’

Thawn nodded as she left for the Communications console, and yet again was left with Pierce. Now she had to look at him. ‘We’ll be out of your hair soon,’ she said, not sure why apologetic was the sentiment she found easiest to express.

He gave a surprised, kind smile. ‘You’re never in my hair. It’s so weird, for me we had breakfast this morning and you seem, like – you seem tired, but you seem completely normal.’ He hesitated. ‘But for you…’

She didn’t say, I last saw you when we put you in a casket. Or that she’d hit the deck in a fight and when she’d opened her eyes, it had been to see his corpse in front of her. She cleared her throat. ‘It’s very odd.’

‘I get this is difficult. I don’t want to make it weirder.’ He grimaced and shrugged. ‘I don’t know what helps. I get you can’t look at me, I should -’

‘No – no, Noah, I’m sorry.’ Her shoulders slumped. ‘This is difficult. But it’s not your fault. It’s…’ Thawn hesitated. ‘It’s good to see you again,’ she said at last, and looked at him. There was no word in any language, she thought, for what it felt like to see his face again. A perfectly exquisite agony.

Noah Pierce hesitated, then reached to squeeze her hand. ‘I don’t want to jump to conclusions. But in case the other me was a jackass and didn’t say it, you’re my best friend, you know?’

Her breath caught in her throat – and then was free, and with it came a sudden rush of something Thawn still didn’t have words for. ‘If the other me is… well, me,’ she began. ‘Then -’

And, just as had happened last time she’d sat on the bridge with Noah Pierce, Endeavour rocked and sent them both crashing to the deck. The emergency klaxon wasn’t blaring, her arm wasn’t broken, and this time, as Thawn groaned and pushed herself back up, Noah was there to help her.

‘Status!’ Captain MacCallister shouted. ‘Did something hit us?’

Thawn realised it was on her to find out, and she dragged herself back into Ops. ‘That was definitely an impact,’ she said. ‘Trying to tell… from what…’

* *

‘Okay, holograms only work in three dimensions, so just… bear with me,’ said Logan, using the Science console’s projector to explain her next move. Two Endeavours hovered above. ‘This is us. The other is… seventeen hundred us-es. But we’re like this.’ She dragged the two holoships to overlay. ‘Somewhere around here -’ She slashed a finger around the lower decks of both ships, which turned red, ‘We’re engulfed in an anomaly, and sinking. All of our power systems -’ Another gesture, and these lit up like bright gold veins across the ship, ‘Are sharing energy. So we can’t pull ourselves out of the anomaly’s gravimetric pull with our propulsion systems drained like that.’

‘I like this being dumbed down,’ said Drake. ‘Really useful.’

‘I’m a teacher sometimes,’ said Logan. She paused. ‘I don’t really like teaching.’

‘Can we just redirect all power to impulse engines?’ said Airex.

Cortez shrugged. ‘Ain’t worked so far.’

‘Because the power regulation is too unstable, with multiple Endeavours drawing on that power in different ways,’ said Logan. ‘Maybe, if every Endeavour did that at once, at least some of them would be able to break free? That might do it. But we can’t make them do that.’ She tapped a stylus on her PADD, looking between it and the display. ‘So forget propulsion engines.’

Lindgren winced. ‘Can we contact other Endeavours? But I’ve been trying with our distress call and there’s no indication they’re picking it up. Even trying to transmit down to Deck 15 and below, or the possible region of the anomaly; I don’t think they’re capable of detecting our transmission.’

‘I have a different idea anyway,’ said Logan. ‘The tractor beam.’

Drake worked his jaw. ‘We’re going to… pull another ship more into us?’

‘We can reverse the graviton flow to repel instead, right?’ said Logan, and got a nod from Cortez. ‘So we direct it towards the anomaly and do that. It’s highly likely that if it’s capable of passing through the anomaly it’ll contact something there, and it’ll move us.’

Cortez sucked her teeth. ‘If we don’t have enough power for our impulse engines to move us out of the gravitational pull of this anomaly, then the tractor beam won’t be powerful enough to do that. I expect we wouldn’t be able to get more than a few dozen metres shift on these power levels.’

‘A few metres,’ said Logan, ‘is all we need.’

Airex straightened. ‘The gravitational pull isn’t that severe. It’s just that we can’t fire our impulse engines at full power. But if enough of our systems aren’t overlapping with other Endeavours…’

‘Even if just for a few seconds,’ said Logan. ‘Then we’re not pooling our power and can fire our impulse engines and pull away.’

He nodded. ‘Alright. Let’s do it. Brace for a rocky ride.’ He had to force himself to take the command chair, letting Logan keep his usual station. ‘Drake, get ready to fire engines the moment they’re responsive; Lindgren, monitor the other us-es. Doctor Logan, if you could watch and help out with our power fluctuations, make sure helm’s responsive? And Lieutenant Cortez… you have tractor beam control.’

‘You bet,’ sighed Cortez. ‘I’ll just try to not rip us in half. On your mark.’

Airex brought up the diagnostic display from his armrest’s holo projector. Endeavour was losing power, losing communication with multiple decks still, and sinking into this anomaly. He took a deep breath. ‘Mark.’

‘Activating,’ said Cortez. ‘Hang onto your butts.’ The ship shuddered around them, and it felt like Endeavour was being dragged through a too-narrow passageway of granite. Airex gripped the armrest and gritted his teeth.

‘No movement,’ Cortez said after a heartbeat. ‘Elevating power levels.’

‘Power fluctuations across all systems,’ said Logan, and squinted. ‘I think the other Endeavours are all doing something.’

Drake tapped his console. ‘We’re still dead here. Are we affecting them?’

‘All power to the tractor beam,’ Airex snapped, and the shuddering intensified.

‘Got it!’ said Cortez after a heartbeat. ‘Incremental movement, but it’s happening…’

‘Sir!’ Lindgren’s head snapped up. ‘We’ve got an internal transmission coming through to the bridge…’

Airex looked at her. ‘Someone on the lower decks?’

‘No, it’s…’ She hesitated. ‘It’s coming from the bridge. I have visual.’

‘On screen.’ Airex stood, and he knew he shouldn’t have been surprised to see the bridge of Endeavour displayed in front of him like a mirror. A mirror in which stood Leonidas MacCallister, flanked by Saeihr Kharth and an officer he didn’t know.

‘Dav,’ said MacCallister, voice urgent. ‘I know what you’re doing, but you have to stop now. It’s ripping us and, so far as we can tell, multiple other Endeavours apart.’

Airex’s head snapped around to Cortez, who gave a hapless shrug. ‘We are repelling them while they’re trapped in place,’ she said.

‘It might break you free,’ pressed MacCallister, ‘but I have no idea what the damage is going to be.’

‘There are seventeen hundred USS Endeavours across at least as many realities trapped in this anomaly,’ said Airex, returning his gaze to a man who looked like his old captain. ‘Probability dictates that whatever outcome there is, some of these ships won’t survive this crisis.’

‘I understand your reasoning,’ said MacCallister in that calm, collected voice, even as alert klaxons raged around his chaotic bridge. ‘But we can maximise everyone’s chances if we work together.’

‘Do you have a better plan? If you activate your tractor beams, we can both break free.’

‘Maybe,’ said MacCallister. ‘Or more of us die than have to.’

‘My responsibility is to this ship, not the countless possibilities -’

‘Oh, for Vor’s sake.’ Kharth stepped over. ‘Commander, it’s me. Your universe’s Kharth. I’m stuck here with Lieutenant Thawn; we were in a turbolift when it all went down and I think we crossed realities. How about you don’t kill your own crew?’

Airex’s gaze shot to Lindgren. ‘Ensign, confirm this.’

‘I’ll try,’ she said. ‘I can confirm that they’re not on this ship anywhere I can detect them.’

He jabbed a hand across in Cortez’s direction. ‘Cut the tractor beam.’ The shuddering subsided, and Airex let out a deep breath as he looked back at MacCallister. ‘Very well, sir. I don’t think we’ll be able to save everybody.’

‘Perhaps not,’ said Leonidas MacCallister. ‘But we can try, and we can come up with a solution which doesn’t scuttle them to save us. Don’t worry.’ And he gave that smile that was always so encouraging. ‘I have faith in all our crews.’

* *

‘So that explains that,’ said Rourke. They were back in the gloom of the CIC, and Valance sat on the metal steps down to the central pit, head in her hands.

‘Explains what. Sir.’

‘Since we met I’ve only known you to be strictly by the book. Unusually so. I wondered if that was Captain MacCallister’s influence, but everyone else seems much more likely to be in touch with their feelings.’ He fiddled with a power-dead PADD. ‘So I thought some other mentor.’

‘No,’ said Valance stiffly, and looked at him. ‘It’s because your sort of guts-and-glory methods of command get people killed, sir.’

‘Sometimes.’ His chest tightened. ‘And sometimes, so does an overabundance of caution. You took the wrong lesson from what happened on the Derby, Commander.’

She stood, shoulders tense. ‘I don’t think you’re qualified -’

‘The lesson wasn’t “hold back,”’ he pressed on. ‘The lesson wasn’t “be cautious to the point of inaction.” And it certainly wasn’t “doubt yourself, now and forever.”’

‘I don’t doubt myself.’

‘You do. A Starfleet officer, especially a command officer, needs to trust their instincts. But you wander the hills, trying to find proof before you listen to yours.’

Her jaw worked. ‘What do you think the lesson was, then, sir?’

‘And even now, when I’m crawling right under your skin, you’re holding back.’ He stood, tossing the PADD from hand to hand. ‘You didn’t listen to Doctor Minnow.’

‘I thought I knew best.’

‘You and every young officer with command aspirations. That doesn’t make you abnormal or pathological, Commander. It means you were a young lieutenant in way over your head.’

‘Maybe. I still had to deal with the situation in front of me, like any officer. And I choked.’

‘Of course you choked. Any young officer would choke; the ones who wouldn’t are the kid geniuses who make it into the history books. Not being them doesn’t mean you’re nothing. It means you’re human. Well. Half-human. Figure-of-speech human.’ He saw her flinch at that. ‘Your mistake wasn’t having the guts to make a hard decision under hard circumstances. Most officers wouldn’t have done that. They’d have made the worse decision than a bad decision.’

She frowned. ‘Which is?’

‘Making no decision at all.’ He shook his head. ‘Your mistake is one you’re still making. You didn’t trust the people around you.’

Valance straightened like she’d been hit. ‘What?’

‘You didn’t trust Doctor Minnow. You didn’t listen to her, or it looks like anyone else on that bridge. And it was pride, yes, but not the pride you think. It’s not that you didn’t listen to them because you thought they were wrong. You didn’t listen to them because you thought that you shouldn’t need anyone else.’ Rourke tossed his PADD onto the CIC control panel. ‘Think that you shouldn’t need anyone else.’

‘I work hard with this crew -’

‘And you let exactly none of them in, except for Davir Airex, literally the only member of the senior staff more emotionally cut off than you.’ Rourke shrugged. ‘That’s what’s held you back, Valance. You. Not one black mark.’

She took a sudden step forward, and for a heartbeat he thought she was going for him. Good, he thought briefly. Let it out. But at once she looked away, and took a sharp breath. ‘We need to get out of here.’

He watched her a moment, then nodded. ‘Yeah. This magic fun ride through the dark night of the soul can wait. Any bright ideas?’

‘We might be trapped in another reality,’ she said, ‘but there should be someone here. If we can’t pop the doors, then we have the Jefferies Tubes.’ She headed over to one. ‘Find this Endeavour’s crew. Get some answers.’

But when she yanked the Jefferies Tube open, the darkness within loomed – then grew – then swept over them again, and almost as if it was too oppressive, too impenetrable, Rourke shut his eyes.

The chirrup of LCARS systems hit his ears, the particular metallic scent of consoles and a starship interior less luxurious than Endeavour. From just that, he knew what he was going to see before he opened his eyes, and his throat closed up.

Valance squinted as she looked around the small bridge of a frigate, red alert lights flashing but the klaxon killed, officers at their stations. Her gaze fell on the modern uniforms. ‘This isn’t that long ago.’ Then she spotted the man in the command chair, and her brow furrowed even more at the sight of Rourke – leaner, perhaps, less salt in his beard, but still in a red uniform, still with a commander’s pips.

Rourke of Endeavour only managed to speak after a long moment, and only when he tore his gaze from himself to the meaty Orion on the viewscreen. ‘No,’ he croaked. ‘This is the USS Firebrand. Three years ago.’

‘Oh.’ Valance’s antagonism was gone, clearly wrong-footed. ‘What did you do?’

Rourke of Endeavour watched as Rourke of the Firebrand stood, eyes hard as he looked to the viewscreen, and still his voice came out raw. ‘Not enough. Not nearly enough.’

‘You know, I’m glad there are people on your Endeavour none of us recognise,’ Commander Robert Templeton of the alternative Endeavour said across the viewscreen. ‘I was starting to feel like the odd one out that nobody knew me.’

‘Not a clue who you are,’ Cortez said cheerfully.

‘I think,’ said Captain MacCallister, raising his hands. ‘We can be confident that our timelines have diverged along multiple points for multiple people. Though by our scans, ours seem to be the universes which are most similar to one another of the seventeen hundred.’

Airex shrugged. ‘That would explain why our people transitioned to your universe while in physical motion the moment we were all caught in the anomaly. It doesn’t guarantee they’ll come back if we leave.’

It was his other self who piped up at that, and Airex clenched his jaw at the sight of Davir Hargan. He looked younger, though they were exactly the same age. It was the stoop of the shoulder, the apprehension Airex had shaken with five lifetimes. ‘Actually,’ said Hargan, ‘I’m expecting that once we’re not on a quantum rupture, their quantum frequency will determine their reality. Just as we’re all occupying the same place in space-time -’

‘They’re phasing,’ Airex said bluntly. ‘I understand, more than you know, Lieutenant. But it is no guarantee.’

‘We don’t have any guarantees, Dav,’ said MacCallister. ‘But my oaths didn’t stop at the edge of our universe.’

‘You have no oath to this ship, sir; we’re not your Endeavour.’

‘You mentioned you’d transmitted a distress signal. I expect every Endeavour’s done it. Standard Starfleet procedure in this situation.’ MacCallister put his hands in his pockets and smiled. ‘My oath says I gotta answer that. Also doesn’t matter which universe.’

Drake looked over his shoulder from helm and dropped his voice. ‘Is this guy for real?’

Airex ignored him. ‘We need a plan before we can help every ship.’

Cortez chewed on her lip. ‘If we could coordinate with all the Endeavours, what if we all did the tractor beam thing at once? It would make it more effective on less power.’

Doctor Logan half-raised her hand. ‘I, ah, don’t think that all the Endeavours could sustain the tractor beams for long enough. It’s still a massive use of power.’

MacCallister looked to Thawn. ‘How long do we have until the warp core’s submerged?’

She checked her console and shook her head. ‘My best guess is seventeen minutes.’

‘If we both,’ pressed Airex, ‘use our tractor beams on opposing trajectories, it could push us out of alignment just long enough -’

‘At too high a cost. No, Dav.’

Airex scowled. ‘You’re not my commanding officer. You can’t say that like you’re giving an order.’

MacCallister straightened and looked him in the eye, and for a heartbeat it was like looking at his old captain, and shame tugged in his gut. But the captain gave a slow nod. ‘That’s a habit of mine. I apologise. I don’t know how your Starfleet operates, but here it’s our way to help everyone, even at risk to ourselves. I don’t mean to judge you, if your duty is different. I don’t know your worlds or your life.’

‘It’s no different,’ Kharth said dryly. ‘He’s just being an ass.’

Airex stared. ‘Lieutenant!’

‘It’s true, Commander. We have an obligation to help.’

‘We need the means to help,’ Airex pressed, jaw tight. ‘A means of every ship dislocating itself from its position in the rift, or at least enough of them dislocating so we’re no longer all sharing and draining each other’s power, without damaging one another. Which means the best way would be for it to happen simultaneously, and there’s no way we can all simultaneously relocate…’ But his voice trailed off, breath catching.

‘Actually,’ said MacCallister. ‘We reckon we can probably communicate something simple to every ship using the internal systems that are phasing across realities. Even better if it’s a systems command; I can use my command codes to send the instruction, not overriding the other ships but at least flagging it as a command-level order.’

Logan brightened. ‘That sounds like that would work, sir. But we don’t know what to say?’

‘Some ships use their tractor beams, others don’t?’ wondered Kharth. ‘And the ones using their beams try to tug other ships…’

‘That won’t offset the physical stress,’ said Cortez.

‘Also a hell of a thing to coordinate,’ pointed out Templeton.

‘If we instruct enough ships to cut all power,’ Davir Hargan started to say, quite quickly, ‘then one or two can power their engines and move… then another… then another…’

‘That’ll take time, Dav,’ said Kharth. ‘Time we don’t have. There’s got to be another way to -’

Blood rushed in Airex’s ears. ‘Warp,’ he said quietly, then straightened. ‘We give the order for all ships to go to warp simultaneously.’

Cortez frowned. ‘Uh, our power systems aren’t reliable enough right now for the phase compensators to regulate the plasma flow properly -’ She had a few blank looks and shrugged. ‘We don’t got ignition to fire up the reaction.’

‘Not right now,’ said Airex. ‘But you said that when the warp cores are submerged, you expect the matter-antimatter reaction to occur as it all melds across realities.’

‘Yeah,’ said Cortez. ‘And go boom.’

‘Instantly?’

‘I’d give it three seconds for an overload.’

Airex snapped his fingers. ‘More than enough.’ He looked back at MacCallister. ‘We give the order to go to warp, sir, at the exact moment all of our warp cores are submerged in the anomaly. The reaction in all the cores is going to be – it’ll be exponential, sir, with more than enough power for every ship to hit a warp factor. And the moment they do…’

‘They’re out of the anomaly and we’re not leeching each other’s systems,’ MacCallister finished, and smiled. ‘I’m glad we’re more alike than not.’ He looked through the viewscreen at the prime Endeavour’s Lindgren. ‘Elsa, you reckon you can work with yourself and make sure we get these command transmissions through in time?’

Lindgren gave a small, pleased smile. ‘I think we’ll be more than twice as fast with two of us, sir.’

‘Well, good,’ piped up an anxious Thawn. ‘Because you have fourteen minutes.’

* *

There was a Nausicaan on the Firebrand’s viewscreen, as mean-looking a fellow as Valance had ever seen on a dim-lit bridge of what looked like a Djarrik-class cutter, a small vessel favoured by private operators – and pirates. ‘You’ve made a big mistake, Starfleet.’

Commander Rourke of the Firebrand rose from the command chair and folded his arms across his chest. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Trage.’

Meanwhile, Commander Rourke of Endeavour had taken several sharp steps back, almost hitting an empty science station against the side of the Firebrand’s bridge. ‘I don’t – I don’t need to see this.’ All strength had gone from his voice, along with the colour from his face.

‘Yeah. You do,’ came Trage’s gruff voice. ‘You thought I wouldn’t catch your spies?’

To the younger Rourke’s credit, Valance couldn’t see him so much as falter. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

But he did falter when Trage jerked a hand and the lights on his bridge brightened, showing the group behind him. Four people, hands bound behind their backs, on their knees. Four others with disruptors levelled at their heads. And Valance realised Rourke was bluffing, because she recognised one of the kneeling figures as Erik Halvard.

‘You let me get away after taking down only half of my crew at Setkis Station,’ Trage carried on. ‘Thinking I’d be dumb enough to take on your spies as crew at my next stop.  Two days. That’s how long they lasted before we busted them.’

The younger Rourke glanced about his bridge, obviously rattled. ‘If you’re back,’ he said at length, ‘if you’re confronting us, then I guess you expect to negotiate.’

‘No,’ said Trage. ‘No, I don’t want you to pay for me to give them back.’ He stalked to the four kneeling officers, drew his disruptor, and pointed it at the head of Erik Halvard. ‘I want you to watch them die.’

Valance would have sworn she heard a muffled sound from ‘her’ Rourke, but her gaze was too trapped on the younger. His jaw had dropped, and he took a sharp step forward. ‘Trage – Trage, you kill Starfleet officers and this gets way, way bigger than narcotics smuggling.’

But his desperation was palpable, and Trage’s lip drew back in a sneer. ‘I already have a Starfleet frigate assigned to hunt my crew and infiltrate my supply network. It doesn’t get bigger than this.’

The younger Rourke’s fists clenched. ‘It can get worse than this – Trage, you’re toe to toe with a Diligent-class. If you hurt one goddamn hair on their heads -’

Trage’s disruptor moved six inches left and discharged, and one of the four officers collapsed to the deck of his ship.

‘Trage!’

‘You’ll what, Rourke?’ The Nausicaan rounded back on the viewscreen. ‘This isn’t a chance for you to threaten me. This is me sending a message to you. To Starfleet.’

One of the officers, a woman in her thirties with dark red hair, lifted her head and looked at the viewscreen. ‘Take the shot, Matt. It’s too late -’

Trage lunged to her side, grabbing her by the hair and ramming his disruptor in her cheek. ‘Oh no. He watches you die first.’

The younger Rourke had stopped dead. ‘Don’t you dare, Trage.’ But all anger was gone, just a low desperation, and his eyes landed on the officer who’d spoken. ‘Lily.’

Valance’s eyes widened, and her head whipped around to the older Rourke, who looked by now like he was trying to cram himself into the bulkhead, shoulders hunched, arms across his chest, staring at nothing. ‘She’s…’ She didn’t know what she was going to say, but then there was a fresh disruptor blast, and the older Rourke’s eyes slammed shut.

‘No!’ The younger Rourke took a sharp step forward. ‘Lieutenant Slater, fire all goddamn weapons -’

A young officer at tactical hesitated. ‘There are -’

Erik Halvard looked across the viewscreen, and nodded. ‘Give ‘em hell, Matt.’

The tactical officer opened fire, and as the bridge of Trage’s ship was rocked by an impact, Valance heard ‘her’ Rourke murmur, ‘I never did that.’

Then darkness fell, again, and Valance rounded to see him collapsing to his knees, a ragged sob escaping his lips. She didn’t know if they were back in the CIC, but the floor still felt like a metal deck as she, acting on instinct she barely understood, knelt beside him and clasped his shoulders. ‘What did happen?’

Rourke drew his hands down his face, his breathing creaky. ‘I dithered, like you saw,’ he croaked at length. ‘Even at the end, I – I froze and I watched them die, and then Trage opened fire and we took a hit to the engines and he got away…’

‘He’s still out there?’

‘No – no, Security caught up with him a month later, but that was…’ He wrapped his arms around himself and hunched forward like he might be sick. ‘I left, I left the Firebrand, I ended up on medical leave, then the Academy…’ He spoke in a low, swift tone, and she didn’t think he was fully cognisant that she was there, let alone what he was telling her.

‘Gre’thor,’ she muttered. ‘I don’t know what -’

Then the light lifted, and Valance’s heart clenched as she realised they were still on the Firebrand’s bridge. Except the younger Rourke was still in the command chair, and Trage’s face was on the viewscreen with none of the four officers in sight.

‘You’ve made a big mistake, Starfleet.’

‘What the hell,’ Valance hissed.

The older Rourke hunched up. ‘No – no, no, not again…’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Trage.’

‘Fuck this,’ spat the older Rourke, clamping his hands over his ears, and Valance watched in muted horror as it played out again. Only this time, when the disruptor was pushed in ‘Lily’s’ face, the younger Rourke burst forward with fresh anger.

‘Lieutenant Slater, target their engines – Trage, if you shoot I will blow you all to hell -’

And Trage opened fire, and so did the Firebrand, and again darkness fell to a low, miserable moan from the older Rourke, still here with her in the shadows.

‘I don’t understand,’ Valance breathed. ‘Why again, why did we see this again?’

‘Most of the time,’ said Rourke, voice creaking, ‘there are only two choices. Act, or don’t act. Fix it, or don’t fix it. I’ve played this out a thousand times in my head, and for every time I save them, there are twelve times I watch them die again…’

‘This is it. This is why you don’t want to be here – on Endeavour, this is why you’ve got half a foot off the ship at all times, this…’ This is why you’ve prickled and punished. I’ve not been a ray of sunshine but you’ve had your eye on the door since you got here.

His eyes were pale as his gaze met hers, desperate, fraught. ‘I never wanted to command a starship again.’

The lights rose. And again they were on the Firebrand, again everything played out. The older Rourke didn’t move from the corner, and Valance hovered, unsure of what she should do, could do except stand before him and block out the sight even if he could still hear minutes that had to be seared into his memory, his soul.

This time, Rourke muted long enough to tell Slater to begin trying to bypass Trage’s shield systems and beam off the captured team, before focusing on keeping Trage talking.

It didn’t work, and the team died.

The next time, Rourke commanded the Firebrand to advance on Trage’s ship, ram it to bypass their deflectors and then try to beam the hostages back.

It didn’t work, and the team died.

If this was a construct of Rourke’s mind, Valance thought, then he’d thrown the book at this situation over the years. Innovated hostage negotiation with a dozen tactics and techniques, some hare-brained, some dangerous, some downright genius.

And she stood, and she watched, as over and over again they failed, and over and over again the best and brightest efforts of Matt Rourke resulted in the deaths of people he obviously loved.

Kharth tried to not jump when Lieutenant Davir Hargan stopped next to her post at tactical. The waiting wasn’t taking long, but it was still waiting, something she preferred to fill by making sure she knew exactly what would go down, when.

‘So things are a little different on your Endeavour,’ said Dav softly.

She unclenched her jaw, because this was not the man who made her at once feel like she was home and like her skin was crawling. ‘You mean I’m different.’

He sucked his teeth. ‘I meant I’m different, really. So in your reality I was Joined?’

She looked up at him. ‘Wasn’t what what you always wanted?’

‘I think the Airex symbiont was lost,’ he said, gaze going distant, like it did when he was recalling something, as if accessing boundless archives. ‘Some accident the host was in, and they both died. I’m a candidate, but I think it’s clearly not going to happen by now.’ Dav shrugged. ‘I don’t think it’s what I always wanted. It’s what I always thought I was supposed to want. To be part of something greater.’ He glanced around Endeavour’s bridge. ‘Here, I am.’

‘Well, you dodged a disruptor blast.’ She didn’t look at him, tapped nothing into tactical. ‘Davir Airex is a cold-hearted son of a bitch.’

‘I gathered.’ Dav grimaced. ‘It was like looking at the worst parts of me.’ He shifted his feet. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Sorry?’

‘I – we -’ He hesitated. ‘I suppose I’m making assumptions of what our life is – was – like in your reality.’

She let out a slow breath. ‘We were involved on the Cavalier. You were Joined. Then you ended it. Then I didn’t see you for three years until I was posted to Endeavour.’

‘That was what I suspected. So that’s why I’m sorry.’

It occurred to her that she’d never get a chance like this, a chance to look at Dav as the man she remembered and say what she thought. It could be cathartic, perhaps. Especially as she’d not have to deal with the fallout.

She looked up at him and opened her mouth. But after a heartbeat, all she said was, ‘This will work. And you’ll get your Saeihr back.’

She would have walked away then, but he spoke quicker than she expected. Perhaps this Dav was a little more adept, three years on, at intercepting her evasion. ‘I’m sorry he – I – was another person who left you behind. I hope you can let him go. You’re always stronger than you know.’ His voice was low but firm, words coming in a rush, like he knew his window of opportunity was narrow. So she suspected he wasn’t surprised or hurt when, after a moment’s hesitation, she walked away.

If he knew her well enough to say that, he’d know her well enough to understand she wouldn’t stick around for her own autopsy.

‘One minute remaining,’ piped up Lindgren.

MacCallister had been beside her at comms, and returned to the command chair. ‘Send out the order with the countdown, Ensign. All ships that’ll receive it.’ He let out a slow breath. ‘I hope this will be enough for the people who can’t hear us or can’t jump.’

‘Sometimes, sir, you have to trust people to save their own necks a little,’ said Commander Templeton, sitting next to him. Kharth found herself catching the XO’s eye, and he gave her a cheeky wink.

‘We’ve done what we can,’ MacCallister agreed. ‘Stand by.’

At the front, Noah Pierce sat ready and waiting, but dropped his voice as he leaned towards Thawn. ‘I, uh, hope being yanked back to your reality isn’t too rough.’

Thawn looked at him, and wondered if she was allowed to stare – or if she wanted to. In seconds this would happen and, if Davir Hargan was right, she’d be gone, gone to a reality where he was dead. ‘I hope your Rosara Thawn gets through this alright,’ she said, a little stiffer than she meant.

He gave his slightly lopsided smile. ‘You’ll be fine.’

‘Twenty seconds!’ called Lindgren.

Thawn’s throat tightened. ‘I miss you,’ she told him, voice low. ‘And I hate not having you next to me. We were always a good team.’

The corners of his eyes creased. ‘I know you’re tough enough to not need me.’

She hesitated. ‘I don’t know that.’

‘Ten seconds!’

This was it. The chance she’d never had and never would again; the chance to tell him things she’d barely told herself, and she wouldn’t even have to live with the world-shattering consequences.

Instead, Rosara Thawn glanced at his flight controls, opened her mouth, and her very last words to him were, ‘You should get ready.’

‘Five!’

Then she stopped looking at Noah Pierce, because she still had a job to do instead of ripping into her own soft underbelly.

‘Three… two… one…’

MacCallister tilted a finger. ‘Go!’

And Noah Pierce sent the USS Endeavour to warp.

* *

He stood on a stage before a hundred, two hundred people, an adoring crowd all gathered around him, and gushed at what a great honour it was to be here while looking only at one person. One woman. And though more words burned in him, words for her he wanted to share for everyone, he bit his tongue and let the moment pass, let the private stay private.

He looked at the hovercar parked in the gloomy alleyway, his best friend already in the passenger seat, urging him in. It would take minutes to hotwire the engines, and they were exposed, far too exposed with the back door to the bar so close. So he slammed the door shut and stepped back, calling for them to find another target, a safer prospect.

He read the letter on his PADD, the one containing all his hopes and dreams, the one that could change his life. And then he deleted it, put the PADD at the bottom of the stack as if that would stop it from physically existing, and left the kitchen to rejoin his family and accept that this was his place, forever his place.

And he stood on the bridge of Endeavour, at his usual post at science instead of in the command chair, and though he could hear Captain MacCallister’s bellowed orders as they jerked the ship free from the anomaly, his gaze was inexorably drawn to her, so close and yet so far, and about to be worlds and realities away to somewhere colder he’d never be able to reach…

Then Airex was almost thrown from Endeavour’s command chair as the ship juddered to a halt, and reality came rushing back in. He gasped for breath, head snapping up. ‘Report!’

Dr Logan clutched at the science console, grey-faced. ‘I, uh – we’ve certainly moved…’

‘Navigational sensors show we’re two hundred million kilometres from our last location,’ croaked Drake. ‘We’re out of the anomaly.’

‘Systems reports coming in,’ said Cortez. ‘Power levels are stabilising over the whole ship.’ She let out a low, pained moan, and bent double. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Memories. But not ours,’ said Davir Airex, the only person on the bridge who knew what it was like to see someone else’s life through what felt like your own eyes. ‘Those from other realities, I dare say.’ There had been more. More than the three he didn’t recognise, more than the memory of his alternate self on the other Endeavour. Those had been the clearest to him, but other snapshots still rose before his eyes, moments that, he suspected, nobody on this ship had ever experienced.

Not in the same way.

He drew a shuddering breath. ‘Make sure we’re clear of the anomaly, Mr Drake, then bring us to a full stop. Lieutenant Cortez, I want a complete systems diagnosis. Computer, locate -’

But he got no further as the turbolift doors slid open, and in staggered Lieutenants Kharth and Thawn, looking like they’d been through the wringer but apparently uninjured. ‘Just gotta check,’ said Kharth, voice hoarse. ‘We’re back in the shitter reality, right?’

‘Depends.’ Cortez spoke first, much to Airex’s quiet relief. ‘Did your coffee this morning come out a little engine-fuel-y?’

‘It had a certain carcinogenic quality.’

‘Then welcome back.’

‘More pertinently,’ said Airex, standing with his PADD linked to the internal sensors, ‘your quantum signatures match our own. You’re in the correct universe. Evidently the “elasticity” theory worked.’

Kharth turned to Thawn. ‘Such a warm welcome.’

He ignored her, looking to Logan. ‘Doctor, I’d like to thank you for your assistance. I’m not sure we’d have made it through this in one piece without your hands and expertise.’

She gave a frazzled shrug. ‘I’m just glad that I’ve worked on enough survey ships and Starfleet computer databases to be able to figure out bridge controls and, uh, that I didn’t pass out from panic?’

‘Essential part of bridge officer training, that,’ agreed Cortez. ‘But cool head like yours, Doc, you’re welcome to help out my Damage Control Team any time.’

‘I might, ah, pass on that offer -’

‘Rourke to bridge. Come in.’

Drake blew out his cheeks. ‘Wonder if a crisis cheered him up,’ he muttered.

Airex pretended he didn’t hear that, so he didn’t have to pretend he disagreed. ‘Bridge here. Commander, are you alright? You’re with Commander Valance?’

‘We’re here. We were in the CIC when all this went down.’ Rourke’s voice sounded strained, but grumpy. Business as usual, at least. ‘We’re unharmed. What happened?’

He glanced around the bridge, at his team who’d seen him through this, at his press-ganged science officer, at the two who’d been trapped elsewhere, and hesitated. ‘I think, sir, it’s best you get up here. It’s quite the explanation.’

* *

‘In total, we’ve lost approximately eighteen hours on our ETA to the rendezvous,’ said Airex, sat ramrod-straight in his chair in Rourke’s ready room. ‘This includes Lieutenant Cortez’s recommendation we do not exceed Warp 6 for the next two hours while she concludes diagnostics on some of our EPS relays.’

‘We were always expected to arrive first,’ said Rourke. ‘And I’d rather arrive late than not arrive at all. Do you have any preliminaries on the cause of the anomaly?’

Airex’s eyebrows raised. ‘I thought that would be considered of secondary importance to the ship, sir.’

‘It is. But I figured, bloke like you, you’ve got some theories.’ Rourke watched him. ‘And I reckon we won’t pass this way again.’

‘No theories yet, sir.’

‘Allocate a specialist to the secondary astrometrics lab. See what conclusions we can reach.’

‘I thought you wanted all astrometrics staff and resources on analysing the Azure Nebula for possible inconveniences to our mission.’

‘And this here’s an inconvenience,’ Rourke pointed out. ‘What you’re saying, Commander, is that you thought I didn’t want to look at science while I’m here to blow things up, right?’ When Airex didn’t answer, he gave a wry grin. ‘Don’t faint, Commander. I’m not saying stop and smell the roses. I’m saying I want to know if the anomaly’s something we still need to worry about. You can do that?’

Despite Airex’s cautious look, Rourke was sure he saw the Trill’s eyes brighten at the prospect. ‘Yes, sir!’

‘Alright, I figure you’ll want to take a look at that yourself. Carry on, Commander.’ He frowned as Airex stood. ‘Oh. And good work today. Endeavour was in safe hands with you.’

Airex did look surprised at that, but Rourke fancied that was uncertainty in how to handle the compliment, rather than in Rourke saying something nice. ‘Thank you, sir. Ah, I had a lot of help. Everyone worked tremendously hard.’

‘Right answer,’ said Rourke. ‘Off with you.’

Valance, in the other chair, remained silent until the doors slid shut behind Airex. ‘Astrometrics?’

‘Sometimes coincidences happen,’ said Rourke. ‘You’ve got to be realistic about that as an investigator. But you still got to look at them first. And even if it’s nothing to do with our mission…’ He sighed. ‘I want to know what that was.’

She nodded, then shifted her weight. ‘Sir, I…’

‘That’s new.’

‘Sorry?’

‘You called me “sir,” and didn’t sound like you resented it.’ He grimaced. ‘Don’t tell me pity got me respect.’

‘I – no, Commander.’

‘Pity just got me pity, then.’

‘You’re not making this easy. We both had insights into each other.’

Rourke tilted his head. ‘I think I got the more raw end of that deal.’

‘Probably,’ she accepted. ‘But I’m sorry.’

‘It was -’

‘For what I said after we saw the Derby. I’m sorry for calling your command style “guts and glory.” If I’d been through what you’ve been through, I don’t think I’d dare make a command choice again. Let alone bold ones.’

He sat back on his chair, let his head tilt skyward. ‘I meant what I said about how no choice is worse than a bad choice. I learnt that through experience, as well. It’s not as ingenious as it looks. Be in enough scrapes and soon enough you can feel your way through these sorts of challenges.’ He hesitated. ‘It’s when you stop and think, that’s where the problems start and you second-guess yourself.’

‘Like you think I do.’

Rourke looked at her. ‘When I say you should trust people, Commander, that includes yourself. It’s like – in this case, leading’s like cooking. You’ve been sat with your nose in the recipe book, except most recipes suggest you make alterations for flavour, and every cook puts their own spin on things. Your staff are your ingredients, and in some situations you might need a little more engineering seasoning, or science heat, than the recipe book suggests. That’s about listening to them and it’s about your own judgement call on how much.’

Valance narrowed her eyes. ‘That’s the last analogy I expected about command.’

‘Not my best work,’ he accepted. ‘But you get my point. Trust your instincts, and where you can’t, trust the people around you. I think you’ll find, if you look back on the past few years, that’s what’s happened when you’ve been most successful.’

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘No, I’ve been most successful when I’ve had Captain MacCallister’s lead to follow.’

‘You mean, to trust. Just now, none of us are as brilliant as the old man,’ said Rourke, and was surprised the words tasted less bitter than he expected. ‘Training wheels are off, Commander. I’m gonna be bold. I know you wanted Endeavour. Did you think you were ready?’

She looked aside. ‘I thought Captain MacCallister would recommend it,’ she said quietly. ‘And I thought if he thought I was ready… that’d make me ready.’

‘Don’t get me wrong. The mission to T’lhab was a great success. If you’re faking it til you make it, Commander, you’ve done an excellent job. I just thought you had ice in your veins.’

Valance drew a slow breath. ‘Before the Derby, sir, I was a high-rising officer. I thought I was the kind of young genius you mentioned. But after, I had a string of nothing assignments. Starfleet thought I was damaged goods. Too impulsive. Too aggressive. Too… Klingon.’

His gaze flickered down. ‘That sounds like how Command respond to a disaster, yes. So you set out to prove them wrong, and locked out your instincts. But while you were at it, you locked everyone else out, too.’

She shifted her weight. ‘But you could turn that advice on yourself. About trusting people.’

He frowned. ‘I trust my senior staff to do their jobs.’

‘First, sir – you don’t, or didn’t. You took any initiative from Endeavour veterans as opposition of your command style. And second, I don’t mean professionally.’

Rourke raised his eyebrows. ‘Are you, of all people, going to lecture me about emotional closeness to the crew?’

She shook her head. ‘You said you never wanted to command a ship again. I can understand that, sir, after what you’ve been through. But the way you’ve been behaving, sir, I think that when this mission is over you’ll leave Endeavour and say it was because the crew didn’t accept you. The truth is, it’s the opposite way around.’

His gaze went to the window. ‘The illusion of choice,’ he murmured.

‘Sir?’

‘We tell ourselves we’re the sum of all our choices, don’t we. Me and Tess. You and the Derby. Me and… and the Firebrand. Sometimes it’s true. But it’s usually more complicated than that. It’s rarely one big moment that changes everything; even if I’d stuck it out with Tess if I’d known she was pregnant, we weren’t happy. And it’s not like her choice was on a coin toss; so much had happened between us to make her feel she couldn’t tell me.’ He glanced at her. ‘You had a whole career behind you before that moment on the Derby. Years of experience which led to you making the decision you did.’

‘It was still a bad decision.’

‘But we make such a big deal of these moments. We say we have the power to change our lives in them. But sometimes… things just happen, and they don’t have reason and they don’t have poetry. Maybe there was nothing I could do on the Firebrand to save – to save them.’ His jaw tightened, and he looked away again. ‘I tell myself I could have done something different, because it’s a convenient fiction to pretend I have control over my life. Even if it means I blame myself. But I don’t think the real choice is in those moments. By the time those moments roll around, the die’s usually cast. By things which were in our control and more things that weren’t.’

Valance frowned. ‘I’m not sure I agree we’re helpless in our lives.’

‘We’re not. We have a choice. But the choice is in how we respond to those big moments when they’re done shattering our worlds. What we do about them after. That’s the only real control we have.’ Rourke shrugged. ‘We can’t choose our traumas. But we can choose how we define them, rather than letting them define us.’

She drew a slow breath. ‘I misjudged your motivation for being here, sir. I knew you had a past with Erik Halvard. I didn’t…’

‘Want to think about it, because that would obscure your hatred of the man,’ Rourke at last looked back at her. ‘No wriggling out of that one, Commander.’

‘I think you need to take a leaf out of my book on this one, Commander. And reserve all personal judgement until we know exactly what’s going on.’

The corner of his mouth twitched. ‘Not think about it until we absolutely have to? On that, Commander, we’re finally of one mind.’ Rourke sat up. ‘Put me together the spec on the scout configuration for the King Arthur, and liaise with Airex and Drake on how we can best keep her hidden on a reconnaissance run at the Wild Hunt base.’

Valance had stood, but now paused. ‘Sir?’

‘We might not need it. We may not have time. I’m wary about exposing ourselves in what might have to be a sneak attack. So you might not get your way on this, Commander Valance.’ He looked up at her. ‘But get me options.’

‘No booze,’ said Cortez as she slid into the chair across from Kharth, their table near the windows of the lounge. ‘I’m too wiped. And coffee’s gonna make me too wired.’

‘Surprised you agreed to a break at all,’ said Kharth wryly.

‘Diagnostic outputs were starting to go fuzzy in front of my eyes. No time to sleep if we gotta be combat-ready in days. But I’m no use if I can’t read.’

‘Right.’ Kharth stood. ‘Then wait here.’

Cortez just grunted and buried her head in her hands. It was all she could do to not nod off while she waited, and she must have drifted by how hard she jerked awake when, what felt like mere seconds later, Kharth sat again with the clatter of mugs.

‘Drink.’

Cortez stared at the steaming cup before her. ‘Whazzit?’

‘It’s supposed to be a Romulan blue leaf tea. It’s…’ Kharth gestured as if reaching for words. ‘The flavours are a little like Earth apple, a spot of vanilla. But not quite. It should be soothing, but not the sort to put you to sleep.’

Cortez had a sniff, then an exploratory sip. Kharth was right; the warmth spread through her almost at once, sinking into muscles to work on knots, but without any soporific seduction. ‘That’s nice.’

‘Yes,’ said Kharth, and her gaze went wistful. ‘You can’t get the real stuff any more. And the replicators haven’t had the best range of samples to reproduce from.’

Cortez looked up. ‘They can’t grow it off-world?’

‘I’m sure one of the Romulan factions has.’ Kharth shrugged. ‘They’re not rushing to export it to the Federation.’

‘At the risk of my usual shoving my nose where it don’t belong. You grew up on Romulus?’

Kharth nodded. ‘I was fifteen when we were evacuated. Ended up on an Evacuation Hub in Federation territory before Starfleet could hang us out to dry.’

‘That’s… a turn of phrase for someone who then joined Starfleet.’

She shrugged. ‘It was better than the alternative.’

Cortez thought of that moment of light after they’d gone to warp, the flashes before her eyes that Airex had confirmed were memories, of which only one had come close to anything she’d recognised. And decided to not press the question of what alternatives Saeihr Kharth could envision.

The ten minute break passed with only incidental conversation before they left. Besides, much as Cortez wanted to help, she did have work to get on with. While Endeavour was formally fighting fit, she was mindful that an overload in the power systems was what had caused the real disaster of Thuecho, and so she wanted every irregularity checked and double-checked before they put fresh combat strains on the ship.

So she was halfway through mentally planning the next round of maintenance, and so deep in her thoughts on her return through corridors to Engineering, that she didn’t hear her name being called until footsteps thudded as someone jogged to catch up.

‘Lieutenant!’

Cortez cringed inside when she realised who it was. ‘Oh, uh – Commander Valance, I -’ She had to fight to make the cringe not external. ‘I – real sorry, I really didn’t hear you there. Got a lot on.’

Valance straightened, but made sure to fall into step rather than waylaying her. ‘No apology needed. I appreciate you must be rushed off your feet.’

‘We’ll be fighting fit by the time we make it to the rendezvous, don’t worry.’

‘I know.’ Valance looked ahead, then back, and Cortez was too tired to realise she was checking they were alone. ‘This perhaps means I’ve not come at the best time.’

‘Oh…’ Realisation dawned slowly and unevenly, like she was bad at changing gears. ‘Commander, we don’t need to talk about -’

‘This might be even more impertinent of me,’ said Valance in a rush, ‘but I wanted to ask you to dinner.’

Cortez stopped. Then squinted at her tea. Then looked back up. ‘Did I pass out back there?’

‘I…’

‘Maybe I slipped into another universe.’

Valance tensed. ‘You’re mocking me.’

Cortez looked up at her, and softened. ‘Sorry,’ she said, even though part of her was indignant about how this had gone last time. ‘I guess what I should say is: what’s changed? Are you not first officer any more?’

‘I am -’

‘Am I not senior staff any more?’

‘You were right,’ Valance blurted. ‘That was an excuse. I’ve made a habit of keeping people at arm’s length, and when I realised that I’d… faltered… on that with you, I panicked.’

Cortez sobered, suddenly quite awake. ‘I hate to make arranging a date more stressful than it’s gotta be,’ she said, ‘but I really ain’t interested if you’re gonna swing back and forth on this. It don’t have to work out – maybe we’ll have dinner and it’ll suck. But I don’t need the rug pulled out on me.’

‘Really, have I ever struck you as being cavalier about admitting I was in the wrong?’

‘That’s… a good point. What the hell happened to you and Rourke? Did you both discover the true meaning of Christmas? Actually, no. I don’t want to know.’ She lifted a hand sharply, and to some surprise she saw Valance wilt. ‘Not now, anyway. You can tell me over dinner.’

Valance straightened, but it wasn’t a defensive posture this time; more like the response had inflated her. ‘I… good. Yes. When you’re done with the repair work.’

‘Might be after the mission at this rate. But I’m a big believer in grabbing moments when we can. So I’ll put myself in your schedule the moment I’ve had some real shut-eye.’

And, at last, Valance smiled. ‘Do that. And, ah. I’ll let you get back to work, Lieutenant.’

Cortez quirked an eyebrow. ‘Please. Isa.’ But she returned the grin as Valance’s smile turned bashful. ‘We’ll talk soon. Karana.’

She knew when to make an exit, and that was it. Time to keep walking, time to maintain a nonchalant pace, sip her tea, act cool as a cucumber about the whole thing until she’d turned the corner, out of sight. And then it was time to, very, very quietly, fist-pump the air and dance her way down to Main Engineering.

She only spilt the tea a little.

* *

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The combat dummy rocked on its podium, but much, much less than Thawn thought it would. Much less than when she saw actual security officers hit it. She scowled, bit her lip, and punched again. Thud.

‘Keep your shoulder up.’

Her head whipped around to see Kharth entering the gym in workout clothes, a towel slung over her shoulder. Thawn squinted. ‘Isn’t this the middle of the night for you?’

‘You too.’ Kharth padded over, gaze blank. ‘So we’re both sleeping well.’

Thawn looked back at the dummy and huffed. ‘I thought this might be soothing.’

‘If you want soothing, try meditating.’ Kharth moved to the back of the dummy and reached to hold it in place. ‘How long’s it been since you threw a punch?’

‘Um. Training?’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘So, never for real.’

‘I’m a systems specialist -’

‘And I’ve not done a full systems reconfiguration since my training, so when I go do that for therapy I’ll ask for your help.’ Kharth looked her up and down. ‘Your posture’s wrong. Left foot forward two inches. Right foot further over, you need to brace your weight more. It’s good to keep a rotation from your hip, use your full strength.’ She nodded. ‘Again.’

The thud was more satisfying this time. ‘Ow.’

‘Hands are imperfect weapons.’ Kharth went to her side and reached for her right hand. ‘But they have the satisfying personal touch if you make a fist right. Here.’

‘I don’t think I’ll ever be great at this.’

‘That depends on what you want out of it. Are you working off stress, or do you want to hurt someone?’

Thawn looked at the dummy’s face, which she’d spent no small amount of time imagining to be Erik Halvard’s. ‘I don’t think I could kill anyone.’

‘But it’s satisfying to think about sometimes, hm?’ Kharth shrugged at the shocked look. ‘Sorry, is that not Starfleet standard? I forget you Core Worlders like to pretend that you’re too civilised to ever have a dark feeling.’

‘I’m not -’

‘I don’t know what Noah Pierce was to you, but I know he was important and I know you watched him die and I know you just had him dangled back within arm’s reach. If that were me, I’d be spitting mad and figuring out who to hurt, and you know what?’ Kharth returned to the dummy. ‘It’s natural.’

‘A lot of things are natural -’

‘Then why aren’t you off talking to Carraway about this? Why are you down here trying to pound a dummy’s face in?’ Kharth’s eyes narrowed. ‘Doesn’t feeding that anger just a little let you think there’s something you can do about all of this?’

Thawn drew a slow, shuddering breath. ‘I’m just the Operations Officer. All I can do is help keep the ship running so people like you and Commander Rourke can do something.’

‘That’s a dim view of what will be a group effort,’ said Kharth. ‘And it won’t make you less angry.’

Thawn sagged. ‘I know, I know. Anger doesn’t help.’

‘Bullshit. Anger totally helps.’ Kharth shrugged at her surprised look. ‘You just have to channel it. For you, for the work you do? You have to burn off the hot in ways like this, and let the rest stay cold. That cold anger is what’s going to keep you going when you’re scared, when you’re stressed, when you’re tired. It’ll keep your head clear. And it’ll make you you excel at your part in bringing every inch of righteous vengeance down onto the people who took Pierce and the others away from you.’

‘That doesn’t sound like the healthiest response.’

‘Maybe not in your Core Worlds. Maybe not on a ship run like Leo MacCallister ran his, and I reckon I’m now in a position to make a judgement on that. But that’s not our reality. Ours is a ragged edge of death and darkness. That’s a reality I know well, and that’s one I know how better to survive in than Counsellor Carraway does.’ Kharth braced the dummy, and looked her in the eye. ‘So let the cold stay, keep you frozen and hard.’ She nodded. ‘And in here, we burn out that blinding heat.’

Rosara Thawn took a deep breath. And punched.

* *

‘Well. That sucks.’ Sadek put down her wine glass and looked across the dining room table at him. ‘Have you seen Carraway?’

Rourke’s lips thinned. Already he regretted calling her down for dinner in his quarters. ‘I’m not being cute when I say I don’t have time. It’s easier now to measure our countdown to facing the Wild Hunt in hours, not days.’

‘You made time for this.’

He fiddled with the stem of his wine glass. ‘It’s easier to talk to you about what happened. You already know most of it.’

‘Actually,’ said Sadek, ‘I know both more and less than you think I do.’ She shrugged at his look. ‘I think you think you’ve been more forthcoming on this than you have. When, really, Matt, you’ve hidden from me the last couple of years.’

‘Then where does the “more” come into it?’

‘Because I can still make educated guesses about you.’ She sobered. ‘None of them good.’

He sighed. ‘Lily is a distraction I can’t dwell on right now.’

‘If that’s a plan you follow, it’ll be for the first time ever. Come on, Matt. We talked about this yesterday. How can you compartmentalise your feelings about her when everything’s just been shaken up in you, and when you’re about to confront Halvard?’ She made a small, irritated noise. ‘It was cruel of Beckett to send you.’

‘No,’ said Rourke to his own surprise, looking away. ‘I think he knew what he was doing.’

‘I didn’t say his malice was accidental.’

‘When this is over,’ said Rourke, ‘I’ll make plans with a counsellor. I promise. I’ll even think on what Torkath and you have said about my future. But right now, it’s one foot in front of the other, alright, Aisha?’

‘Hence why it’s me and wine and dinner, and not Carraway. Well, alright.’ She lifted her wine glass. ‘Chin chin, and all that, if that’s what I’m here for.’

‘There was something you were wrong about yesterday, though.’ He tried to not smirk at her indignant look. ‘You were too kind to me about how I treated the senior staff.’

‘You’ve never said either of those things in your life. I’m quite offended.’

‘At the end of the day, I’m still… the captain.’ How he hated that colloquialism. ‘I’ve got to be the bigger person. And I’ve not given them much reason to believe in me.’

‘Growling around like a bear with a bad head? Seeping with resentment for being here? Treating them like a bomb about to go off? No, you’ve not been your most charming.’

‘Why didn’t you say that to me?’

Sadek shrugged. ‘I thought I’d say something you might listen to. They were still wrong, even if you were more wrong. I thought if I mollified you, made you feel less attacked, you might settle down. I’ve got kids, Matt, I know how to handle toddlers – and to be clear, you’ve all been being toddlers.’

‘So if a grown-up like you is going to sit on the sidelines, someone else has got to grow up.’

‘It’s Valance, isn’t it,’ she deadpanned. ‘You were both visited by three ghosts in the night, only she’s the one who’ll -’

‘There are reasons Beckett sent me. And the ones which have got nothing to do with Erik Halvard are because I’m an investigator, and because I’m a bruiser. And it’s a complicated headspace to be in, winding up a punch. But here we are.’

‘Oh, no. Time to pass on some of your hard-earned wisdom of the veteran to these kids?’ Sadek reached for the wine.

He gave an indulgent smile. ‘Sure. But not right away. I got something else to do first.’

In practice, ‘first’ meant waiting until Sadek had helped him polish off the rest of the bottle. Synthehol, of course, because while they were a while away from their rendezvous, the anomaly reminded them that anything could happen in the Triangle. It was late in the evening when he entered the Computer Operations offices, a part of the ship that didn’t need manning all hours, which was a relief. He didn’t need more junior officers curious about his presence.

The surprised invitation when he knocked was expected, but still Rourke braced as he ducked inside Dr Josephine Logan’s office. ‘Doctor.’

Logan had pulled back from her desk, but her eyes widened as she saw him, and stood. ‘Oh, uh, Commander, I didn’t expect…’

‘It’s late,’ he stumbled. ‘So I figured you’d be here.’

‘Well, that’s just…’ She hesitated. ‘Common sense by now, I guess.’

He shifted his feet. ‘I had Commander Airex’s report. How he press-ganged you to helping out. He spoke very highly of your assistance. I’m not sure I’ve heard Airex speak highly of anyone.’

‘Well, I, he… it was better than hiding under my desk down here in the dark.’ She wrung her fingers together. ‘Marginally.’

‘You’re a civilian. Nobody would have questioned you if you’d done that. So as Endeavour’s CO, I wanted to thank you. By all accounts you helped save the ship.’ He frowned. ‘Many times over, if our understanding was correct.’

‘There are times working on the most advanced computers in the Federation feels like playing four-dimensional chess. But now I’ve actually played four-dimensional chess, so…’

‘This should be a piece of cake in comparison.’ He gave an awkward smile, and pulled out the tin he’d been hiding from behind his back. ‘Speaking of cake…’

She frowned at the tin. ‘Shortbread.’

‘Sure, but – we weren’t speaking of biscuits.’ He hesitated, then extended the tin. ‘These are for you, Doctor. Josie. Because I owe you an apology. For snapping at you the other day.’

‘Oh.’ Again, Logan stared at them. Only after a few fraught heartbeats did she reach out to take the tin. ‘It’s okay, Commander, I understand you’re under a lot of pressure.’

‘We agreed that you don’t have to mind rank around me,’ he pointed out. ‘And it’s not okay. I asked you to look into this situation as a favour, and then I was a prized prick when I didn’t like how it was leading. Which makes me a shoddy investigator, as well as a shoddy bloke for doing that to you.’

‘I, uh.’ She kept her eyes on the tin. ‘I can’t pretend I know what you’ve gone through, is the thing. I’m not a Starfleet officer, I’m not someone who faces life and death and all that. I don’t know how unreasonable it is to be… to be that upset about losing someone you love. I mean, not that it’s ever unreasonable, but I think I’d be really unpleasant to everyone around me if I’d -’

‘It’s unreasonable,’ he said, and even that made it feel like something loosened in his chest. Lily would, he realised deep down, not be disappointed by him. She’d be thoroughly sick of his shit. ‘You were doing what I asked, and then you had the audacity to be kind to me. I don’t think you deserve me explaining my tales of woe, but you do deserve an apology. So. I’m sorry. Please accept my biscuits to go with your coffee.’

Her shoulders hunched somewhat bashfully, and when she looked back up it was with an apologetic smile. ‘Uh. Apology accepted.’ She cracked the tin open. ‘Would you like one, Matt?’

‘I’ll take one with a tea. Definitely too late for me for a coffee.’ He nodded past her, at her computer screens. ‘How’s work?’

Her eyes lit up. ‘Lots of amazing information coming through on how the computer interfaced with the systems across the seventeen hundred Endeavours out there. Really, this could be some sort of break-through.’

‘Then I won’t keep you for long.’ He rubbed the back of his neck as she went to the replicator for their drinks. ‘But when you have the time, I’d like – I’d be grateful – you had some findings to go through. About Slater. And about Halvard.’

She hesitated, mugs in hand. ‘I could do that – we could sit down with that now. If you’d like.’

For all the work that lay behind, for all the work that loomed ahead, he still didn’t think he’d be sleeping with ease. Not yet. Rourke nodded, and accepted the steaming mug of tea. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’d like to see what you’ve got.’