The bird-song was glitching.

Thawn heard it the moment they set foot in the arboretum and the holographic sky overhead filled with holographic swallows. There was just the fainted crackle in the warble of those dark shapes bobbing and weaving, something in the way the noise bounced down to them.

‘I don’t like them either,’ came Rhade’s soft voice from beside her, and she tore her gaze from the false sky to give him a quizzical look. He shrugged. ‘This place is too penned in on the sides for a holographic skyline. Let it be what it is: a patch of green beauty on a starship. That can be enough in itself, no?’

‘That’s not…’ She snapped her mouth shut. She’d noticed the technical malfunction while he was waxing philosophical about the sheer existence of Endeavour’s arboretum. She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

They were interrupting the captain down here. She’d been able to tell by the tension in his voice when she’d called, by the way he clearly would have preferred to not make time for them. But time was of the essence, and Thawn was just glad to find Captain Rourke sat alone on a low wooden bench between the path and the arboretum’s sole water-feature. She could not count the number of times she’d stopped the fake river from flowing whenever she’d needed to cut down the ship’s power use. It was almost her favourite – unfavourite – non-essential system.

‘Sir. Thank you for making time.’

At least he wasn’t with his daughter. He was, for once, out of uniform, and Rourke set a book to one side as he twisted on the bench to regard them. There was a tired crease to his eyes and she could feel how forced his smile was. ‘You didn’t give me much choice on the call, Lieutenant. You know there’s a staff meeting this evening.’

Once she would have fretted at interrupting her captain’s private time so blatantly. She felt even Rhade, normally so confident, falter at Rourke’s attitude – but Rhade was not himself still. All the thoughts flowing from him were shot through with doubt, like a black dye dripped into the waters of his very being.

But now she steeled herself and said, ‘I know, sir. That’s the point – we’re headed spinward at high warp. But Lieutenant Rhade and I are needed on Betazed, so we’ve come to ask you for a leave of absence.’ She’d already had to wait so long, December dragging out with them in the Delta Quadrant after missing the wormhole window. Leave had been promised – and now revoked. She had to find another way.

Rourke’s eyes creased with concern. ‘Needed? Something’s wrong?’

She was considering lying when Rhade said, his voice in those subdued tones that were all he was these days, ‘We need to return to Betazed to get married.’

The captain’s bracing was almost palpable, but Thawn didn’t care enough to read deeper into the wave of apprehension. ‘If you’ll forgive me, that doesn’t sound very urgent.’ He shook his head with a hint of apology. ‘We’re needed back near the Triangle. I don’t know the full extent of what the Mo’Kai are doing – when I know, you’ll know – but Command wouldn’t have cancelled our leave for nothing. You’re needed here.’

‘You don’t know that,’ she pointed out. ‘Give us just a little time, we can catch up before Endeavour’s too deep into anything.’

‘That sounds like one hell of a rushed wedding.’ Finally Rourke looked like he was treating her as a person and not inconvenient personnel. ‘Wait a few days. See what the lay of the land is with our operations on the border. Book in some leave then, take the time to plan. Hell, take the time so more of the crew can come – don’t you want that?’ A wryness tugged at his lips. ‘Or is this you getting out of having to invite us to the wedding?’

‘Sir, of course we’d want you all there,’ Rhade said with all his usual dutiful eagerness. Thawn wanted to smack him.

‘But,’ she jumped in, ‘it’s important we do this soon.’

The why hummed between them, and she felt Rourke’s eyes on her. Felt the evaluating flicker, felt him consider and then reject the archaic notion of a pregnancy giving this urgency, and felt him, at last, decide this was none of his business. At length, he gave another regretful shake of the head. ‘I can’t give you permission now. Maybe once we have more information, once we’re at Starbase 86, perhaps. But everyone on this ship has been run ragged by the last two months. I’m sorry.’

Anxiety didn’t so much flutter in Thawn’s chest as spiral into knots. ‘But sir…’

‘However.’ Rourke stood, raising a hand. ‘I understand you will want a traditional Betazoid ceremony at some point, and you’ll want your families involved, and so this isn’t quite the same. But if your priority is getting married quickly… why not have a wedding aboard Endeavour? And do something big and ceremonial later, when you and everyone have the leave.’

Adamant Rhade’s honest brow furrowed. ‘That’s a very kind suggestion, sir, but it’s important to us for our families to -’

‘No, that’s an excellent idea,’ Thawn blurted before she let herself think. ‘We can make it… formalised. And see to the proper ceremony later.’ Her aunt would not be mollified, not really. Her family would not consider the deed done in a way that mattered, in a way that was politically useful, until everything was done properly on Betazed. But they would be married. It would be legal.

She wouldn’t be able to throw it away.

Rourke smiled at last, tired but plainly relieved he’d helped them navigate this. ‘I’d be proud to conduct the ceremony. It’s not often a captain gets that privilege. Schedule it in some time that suits you. But it would be very kind of you to let it be a proper celebration, something the crew can enjoy as well. God knows we need something to celebrate.’

‘Of course, sir,’ said Rhade before Thawn could just demand Rourke married them there and then. ‘I think that’s an excellent compromise.’

‘Good.’ But the captain’s gaze turned on Thawn, suddenly rather beady, and she could sense he was not all innocence when he said, ‘Maybe you can do me a small favour in return, Lieutenant. Do you know why Beckett’s asked for a transfer?’

Her breath caught. Surely Rourke would see, surely Rhade would feel. But the glitching chirruping continued overhead, Rhade retained the gentle numbness the Delta Quadrant had imprinted on him, and Captain Rourke remained inscrutable even to a telepath. She swallowed. ‘This is the first I’m hearing of it.’

‘I’d hoped to offer him the Intel job on a permanent basis, but he’s determined to go,’ sighed Rourke with an innocence she didn’t quite believe but it suited her to accept. ‘And I doubt Starfleet can offer him anything better at such short notice – he’ll probably need to take a much worse position. But it’s his choice. If you get a chance to twist his arm, though, take it. I worry he’s doing something foolhardy.’

Something foolhardy. That was their modus operandi these days.

‘That seems,’ said Rhade once they were out of the arboretum and back in the corridor, ‘the best conclusion for everyone.’

He was frowning in that quiet, thoughtful way of his that by now only fizzed irritation in her veins. But he didn’t notice even as she turned sharply. He didn’t notice very much about anyone or anything else these days, she thought. ‘It’s not the best conclusion for our families,’ Thawn reminded him. ‘But it will do.’

Now his frown deepened. ‘I don’t see how we’d be able to get married quickly and with the sort of ceremony your aunt would like. You know that there’s still no need to rush…’

‘…as I said, it will do.’ Her jaw tightened. The last thing she needed was for him to start questioning. ‘It’s just that after everything we’ve been through, Adamant, I know if we don’t act right away something else horrid will happen. To you. To me. To the ship. To people that we trust. To our trust in ourselves.’

His hesitation brought guilt slicing into her gut like a knife made of ice that could never melt. Between the betrayal of Dathan Tahla and Rhade’s own actions under the influence of blood dilithium, she knew he felt like he was the one who had something to prove, and her the innocent. It was why he hadn’t asked too many questions when she’d told him she wanted to finally get married. It was why he’d keep cooperating without applying his usual empathy or consideration, and it was why she had to act fast before he had the chance to ground himself.

‘I have to go,’ she continued before he could rally too much. ‘I’ll make arrangements for a ceremony. Something simple.’

‘Dress uniform if we’re aboard, I assume.’ A whisper of a smile tugged at his lips. Once it would have been a warm expression.

‘Don’t worry,’ said Thawn as she turned away. ‘I won’t expose this crew to too much of our people’s open honesty.’

Lies properly told, she left. Her quarry in her next point of business was locked away, so she had to wait outside the secure science labs on deck eleven, trying to not wear a hole in the carpet by pacing. Commander Airex emerged first, and looked both apprehensive and guilty at the sight of her – but quickly realised she wasn’t there for him, and beat a hasty yet polite escape.

He had barely disappeared around the corner before the doors opened again and Nate Beckett stopped dead. ‘Oh no.’

If she’d lost all decorum for Rourke, she had nothing to lose for Beckett. ‘You’re leaving?’

He rolled his eyes and stalked past her. ‘Here we go.’

She didn’t let up, keeping pace about half a step behind him. ‘Since when are you leaving? Captain Rourke said…’

‘I guess Captain Rourke has a big mouth…’

‘He said you didn’t even want to be Chief Intel permanently, so you’ll take some second-string assignment to a Cali-class? Are you insane?’

‘Hey, nobody mentioned a Cali-class -’ He snapped his mouth shut, nostrils flaring as she drew him into the argument he plainly didn’t want. ‘Let’s not talk my career. You don’t care about my career.’

‘I care about you throwing it away over a stupid point of pride -’

‘Stupid…’ Already he stopped, rounding on her. ‘Do you even know why I’m leaving?’

Thawn faltered, not because she wasn’t sure, but because she didn’t want to say it out loud. This part of the ship was quiet, the science labs rarely bustling at the best of times, but putting thought and feeling into words was to put them in neat categories and boxes. To make them absolute. To make them real. ‘Go on. Tell me, then.’

His lip curled and he waggled a finger at her. ‘Ah-ah. You don’t get that. Don’t you remember, Thawn? We’re not friends.’

He turned away again, and she followed again. ‘Don’t play stupid games of rhetoric with me. We both know what’s going on, and I’m saying you’re being ridiculous. You’ve got the best possible career prospects aboard Endeavour, you’ve got a good thing going on here -’

‘A good thing?’ he scoffed. ‘You’re unbelievable. And I’m not challenging you to be coy. If you want to have a conversation about this, Thawn, use your words. If everything’s so good, why would I possibly throw it away?’

She faltered and he kept walking, and even if she’d wanted to talk, her mouth went dry. He was a couple of metres away before she found her voice again, and it was the quietest and most hoarse it had been for weeks. ‘Because of me.’

Something in her tone stopped him, but he only half-turned so he didn’t have to look fully at her. ‘Yeah,’ he said at last, how own voice dropping. ‘Because of you. Because you’re gonna marry Rhade. And I don’t need to stick around for that.’

Distant footsteps made her fall silent for moments longer, though it was a mixed blessing when two blue-shirted officers simply crossed at the next junction and did not come their way. She twisted her fingers together. ‘I don’t want you ruining your career for me.’

‘Ruining my career.’ His eye-roll was less dismissive. ‘Let me worry about my life, Thawn. You’ve got plenty to worry about in yours.’

‘I don’t -’

‘I don’t fancy doing this,’ he said, and finally turned to face her. ‘So let’s cut to the chase. This conversation only ends with you saying one of two things. We both know it’ll be you wishing me luck – acidic sarcasm optional.’

‘I can hardly wish you luck if you’re going to be this stubbornly self-destructive,’ she said, tilting her nose in the air. He did her the courtesy of not laughing at her hypocrisy, which meant things were really bad. Her voice dropped another few decibels as she finally asked, ‘What’s the other thing I might say?’

Beckett drew a raking breath. ‘Ask me to stay.’

‘You should stay,’ she said hotly. ‘You’ll make full lieutenant in a year, you’ll have every option for a career in science or intelligence, which could lead to staff positions and command -’

‘I don’t mean “tell me why staying is the best thing for my job;” if I cared about that shit I’d be listening to my father.’ He looked her in the eye. ‘I mean… ask me to stay.’

She could look at Adamant Rhade, right now as beaten and battered as a man could possibly be, bereft of any trust in his own judgement or actions, and all she felt was a quiet exhaustion at the thought of helping him. But four murmured words from a crestfallen Nate Beckett were making her soul turn inside out.

And still Rosara Thawn inhaled shakily and said nothing.

After thudding heartbeats that felt like they’d been in-time, Beckett clicked his tongue. ‘Yeah,’ he said at length. ‘That’s what I thought.’ He turned away again, and this time as he left, she did not follow. ‘Have a great life.’

In the rushing silence that filled her, all Thawn could think was that, for the first time, she missed the whispers of blood dilithium. Because now, back safe in the Alpha Quadrant with no escape from the status quo, or the wants and dreams that had burdened her all her life, she only had her own thoughts and feelings for company. And her own thoughts and feelings to blame.

‘It’s all pirate activity,’ sighed Kharth as she waved a hand at the holographic map display at the heart of Endeavour’s Strategic Operations Centre. ‘But of course pirate activity’s on the rise on that border. The Romulan Star Empire’s collapse has been catastrophic for regional stability. Every raider’s come out of the Triangle like it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet.’

Valance tried to not grind her teeth together, forcing her expression to remain inscrutable as she turned from the chief of security to Captain Rourke. ‘That’s only one aspect. The real disruption has been in places like the Korwenna Sector.’

Rourke’s expression folded at that. ‘The worlds the Sovereignty occupied.’

‘That was ten years ago now,’ grumbled Kharth.

‘On worlds which have historically been heavily contested. Which have a not-insignificantly mixed population,’ Valance continued levelly. ‘The D’Ghor did the Mo’Kai no favours by stirring trouble on the border two years ago; Starfleet defences are considerably stronger against direct attack. Instead, reports are coming in of dissident political factions among the Klingon residents of these worlds.’

Rourke nodded. ‘Dissident how?’

‘Protests, social disruption. Some signs of armed militia. There was a serious accident in the power systems of a starport on Vaelor III last month that Starfleet Intelligence thinks might have been sabotage. All very likely funded and supported by the Mo’Kai.’ She drew a deep breath. ‘They’ve been very effective as the enemy within for the Empire. Less effective as the enemy without for the Federation. This is a place they can foment unrest and platform their views.’

‘I’ve not seen any reports,’ Kharth jumped in, ‘confirming links between this disruption and the Mo’Kai.’

‘I don’t think Starfleet Intelligence were sharing their more tightly-guarded opinions with you personally, Commander, while we were all the way off in the Delta Quadrant,’ Valance snapped at last.

Kharth lifted her hands. ‘All I’m saying is that we don’t need to borrow trouble. We’ll find out once we get to 86, surely, if Command want us rushing over there in all this fuss?’

Rourke chewed the inside of his lip for a moment, then glanced at Airex. ‘Commander?’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think Commander Valance’s points have merit, but Commander Kharth is right: we’ll know for sure soon.’

‘You’re the one with your ear to the ground on Fourth Fleet Intelligence.’

Airex grimaced. ‘I was a scientific advisor to the admiral. And he’s none too pleased I’m returning to front-line service.’

‘At least this is something more significant than baby-sitting the Delta Quadrant, whatever it is,’ Kharth said.

‘You mean helping people who’d never even heard of Starfleet with something only we could fix?’ Valance butted in. After missing their window to the wormhole, Endeavour had spent weeks hunting down pockets of blood dilithium to be dissipated. They’d moved to fresh territories Starfleet had never reached before, relieved burdens from whole civilisations, and not needed to fire a single shot in all that time.

Rourke sighed. ‘I asked you here for this analysis because I don’t want to come in half-cocked when we get to Starbase 86. We’ve missed a lot these past two months in the Delta Quadrant. I’d been looking to our border defences and not the formerly occupied sectors, so, good thinking on that front, Commander Valance.’ He gave his XO a nod. ‘We’ll get our marching orders soon enough. And see what the fuss is all about.’

‘So we’re done here?’ Kharth grumbled.

‘We’re done,’ said Rourke. ‘We hit 86 in about two days. I have been told to prepare for some personnel turnover, but so far I’m only seeing transfer orders for junior officers and below – Mister Beckett notwithstanding – unless there’s anything else I need to know about?’

‘I’m hunting a new Head of Social Sciences,’ Airex said. ‘Someone with a speciality in this region. But I’m comfortable taking point on that until we get the right candidate.’

Valance felt Rourke’s eyes not leave her, even as he nodded at Airex’s departmental assessment. Her shrug was tense. ‘I’m not aware of anything else.’ She met his gaze. ‘Unless you are.’

‘You know everything I do, Commander. But it’s early days yet.’

Early days on his gentle scouting of career opportunities for her, of command opportunities for her. She sensed the captain’s reticence in letting her go, and hadn’t pushed against it because she didn’t know what she wanted anyway. She’d already turned down one ship, albeit two years ago now, and knew the last thing her record needed was for her reject another.

‘It’s time,’ Airex said gently as they left the SOC.

That jerked her from her reverie. ‘What?’

‘These offers don’t always have expiration dates, but if Isa’s taking that transfer to the SCE, reaching Starbase 86 is when she should do it. Which means you need to have a conversation with her.’

‘How do you know we’ve not been talking about it?’ Airex gave her a look that reminded her how easy she’d had it this past year of keeping her cards close to her chest with nobody around to challenge her. Valance sighed. ‘I don’t know what I want.’

‘Then say that. You do know it’s alright to have a conversation without knowing how it ends, right?’

Valance gritted her teeth as they reached the junction where they’d split off. ‘I think I liked you better when you were repressing a whole lifetime.’

She was a grown-up about it. Checked her schedule. Checked Cortez’s. Dropped her partner a quick message saying it would be nice if they could have dinner together. Valance wondered if that was cruel, giving Cortez an inkling that they would have a Conversation and letting her stew on it for the rest of her shift, but then she remembered: she’d been expected to stew on Cortez’s indecision for the better part of two months.

The compromise was to have one of Cortez’s favourite meals on the table when she made it home from her shift, even if the engineer was convinced the replicator wasn’t quite good enough at empanadas.

‘Oh, you got the good guac!’ Cortez exclaimed with guarded delight the moment she saw the spread, and immediately loosened her uniform jacket. ‘Did you know today was real annoying, or is this some reward for good behaviour?’

Valance bit her lip at the latter comment, and poured them both some wine. ‘What was annoying? I thought we’re on-schedule for reaching 86.’

‘Faster than I’d like after the repairs we needed,’ grumbled Cortez, pulling up a chair. ‘But that’s not the problem. Forrester wants to transfer.’

‘She’s very good. She could head up an engine room, or at least be a deputy.’

‘I know, that’s why I’m pissed. I like her where she is. Kid’s stone cold in the face of danger.’

Even Karana Valance thought Tes Forrester might be stone cold in the face of drowning kittens, but there were more implications to Cortez’s mood than she wanted to consider. She sat down at the table. ‘There’s nothing I can say to that which doesn’t get us straight to business. So let’s go straight to business.’

‘Oh, this is a business dinner.’ Cortez mimed doing her jacket back up with the air of jest Valance by now knew was deflection. ‘Sorry, XO, thought I was having a night in with my girlfriend. My mistake.’

Valance clasped her hands together hard. ‘Please don’t do that.’

Cortez faltered. ‘What’s up?’

‘I don’t… do I have to say it?’

‘Until I’m a Betazoid, uh, yeah, kinda.’

‘Your transfer. The SCE. Are you taking it?’ Valance had hoped they could at least eat first. Maybe enjoy each other’s company enough to remember what was at stake. But if Cortez was fretting about losing an engineer, then either she was irritated at running her department without Forrester, or she was anxious about taking even more staff from Endeavour’s engine room. The uncertainty was painful.

Cortez set down her fork and muttered something in Spanish. ‘I guess this was overdue,’ she allowed. ‘I haven’t given them an answer yet.’

‘You probably should in the next forty-eight hours.’

‘I know.’ She looked away. ‘What about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘I know the captain’s been putting out feelers for you for another ship.’ Cortez winced at Valance’s suspicious look. ‘He told Sadek. So. Everyone knows. Sorry.’

Not for the first time, Valance wished the captain’s best friend was less of a gossip. ‘Nothing’s shown up yet. By the time I’d have to make any decision, I’d know if you were gone or not.’

‘And that would make a difference?’

‘What?’

‘If I were still here,’ Cortez pressed carefully, ‘and you were offered a command. Would that make you stay?’

‘I don’t…’ Valance slugged a mouthful of wine. ‘Can we talk about the actual choice in front of you, instead of discussing a complete hypothetical for me?’

‘It’s not a hypothetical.’ Cortez pushed away her untouched plate. ‘When we got together you’d just turned down a ship. You’re gonna have your own command, cariño, it’s just a question of when.’

‘I’m trying to ask you what you want.’ Normally it wasn’t this hard. Normally Cortez wore her heart on her sleeve, and the challenge for Valance was meeting openness with openness. But nothing about this was normal, and the worst thing was Valance knew exactly why. Or, rather, the worst thing was that Valance understood she was going to have to do the leg-work this time. She drew a deep breath. ‘I’m trying to give you space to make your choice. I’m not trying to push you.’

Cortez bit her lip and didn’t meet her gaze. ‘What if I wanted you to push me?’

‘I can’t make this decision for you -’

‘You could.’ Now she looked back. ‘You’re the first officer of an Obena-class. It doesn’t get much better than this in the second chair. You could be here another five years without anyone thinking twice about it.’

Valance’s heart lurched. ‘And you’d stay?’

‘I don’t…’ Cortez’s voice caught. ‘I can’t do this for you,’ she continued in a sudden, emotional rush. ‘I can’t fix this for you, I can’t decide this for you, I can’t do the work for you –’

She was crying. Valance stared in horror for a moment, then lurched from her seat to kneel beside her, one hand on hers, the other coming to her face to thumb away a tear. ‘I’m sorry, I’m – I don’t know what you want…’

‘I can’t do this again.’ Control was returning to Cortez’s voice, but there was still a waver. ‘I can’t put my heart on the line and find out you’re not into this as much as I am. That you’re not committed as much as I am. I did it with Aria and she fucked me up, and I’ve given you space and time, so much, but I can’t decide to stay for you and then find out in six months you’re running off to be a starship captain because you won’t stay for me -’

‘I’m not Aria.’ Valance pressed her forehead against hers, voice hushed, comforting. ‘I’m not going to do that.’

Cortez closed her eyes, chest heaving. ‘You get offered the right ship,’ she breathed, ‘and you’d be an idiot to turn it down.’

‘I get offered the right ship and I’m bringing you with me.’

She hadn’t meant to say it. She hadn’t even thought it, because that required more clarity than she’d been able to muster these past months. But the words hummed through her, and when Valance looked Cortez in the eye, she knew she meant it. ‘And in the meantime, we have Endeavour. If that’s what you want.’

The relief flooding through Cortez was almost palpable, and she slumped to bury her face in Valance’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get me wrong,’ she groaned, muffled. ‘SCE would be very cool. I’ve not been tempted for nothing. But.’ She lifted her head, clearer-eyed now. ‘Careers and relationships. You gotta make compromises if you want both.’

Valance allowed herself a smile, allowed her own wave of relief to slip past the barriers she put up against any and all compromising feelings. ‘Then I’ll compromise by leaving only for another ship worthy of your talents.’

Cortez’s grin was like the sun coming up on the overcast days that had been the last two months of their relationship. ‘If I’m confident of one thing, cariño, it’s that hitching myself to your star is gonna be no compromise.’

Valance’s heart lurched at the shining joy of finding their way through this – and then lurched again as the lights changed amber, and the klaxon sounded.

‘Yellow alert,’ came Rourke’s voice over comms. ‘All hands to stations.’

‘Son of a…’ Cortez rose with a baleful look at their set table. ‘I’m glad you didn’t break into the good wine.’

‘Maybe once this is done,’ Valance grumbled, and hit her combadge. ‘Valance to bridge. I’m on my way – what’s the situation?’

‘We got a distress call from a mining station; they’re under attack by raiders. We’re the nearest vessel, about ten minutes out.’ Rourke sounded serious but not overly concerned. It was unlikely, even as close to the border as they were, that any raider would stick around if a ship of Endeavour’s size showed up.

‘Save the day here, save the day there,’ Cortez grumbled. ‘Maybe if we’re exciting enough I can convince Forrester to stay. You be careful.’

‘You too.’ They kissed quickly and parted. At the time, despite the looming risk, all Valance could think was how lucky they were. It would have been so easy for the alert to have interrupted them even moments sooner, cut them off before they could finish their conversation, finish deciding their future. As it was, Valance headed for the bridge feeling like she could send these raiders packing just by spitting at them.

In the long run, she’d wish they had been interrupted.

‘What have we got?’ called Valance as she stepped onto the bridge. They’d gone to red alert when she was in the turbolift, now much closer to the danger.

Rourke gave her a brisk nod and gestured her to the seat at his right. ‘Mining station in the Proxidium system sent out a distress call; they say they’re under attack by a B’rel-class. Apparently they dropped out of cloak, hit the outlying facilities hard, then once the station raised it defences they called on them to lower shields and let their stores to be emptied by transporter. The station told them to screw themselves and called for help.’

Valance’s brow furrowed. ‘What’re they mining?’

‘Tritanium. Nothing fancy.’

Airex, stood at Science, looked displeased. ‘I don’t see how a B’rel-class could have the cargo space to make a raid like this worthwhile. We’re not that close to the border. This is high-risk, low-reward.’

‘If they have another ship,’ said Kharth, ‘then they’ll be cloaked, too. It makes sense to keep your hauler hidden.’

Airex nodded. ‘I’m running scans to try to pick up any other raiders, but I’m getting nothing so far.’

‘That is the purpose of a cloak,’ mused Valance.

‘It’s very rare,’ said Rourke, ‘for pirates using stolen or salvaged Imperial ships to keep them so finely-tuned we don’t notice anything on our sensors, though. Still, absence of evidence isn’t evidence of absence, but let’s not jump at shadows just yet.’

Lindgren pressed a finger to her earpiece. ‘Nearby Starfleet ships are asking if we require assistance.’

‘Give them our thanks, but we can handle one bird-of-prey,’ said Rourke, and nodded forwards. ‘Let’s help these people.’

They dropped out of warp minutes later, Valance grasping the armrests of her seat as the deck lurched underneath in the fall to impulse. The viewscreen shifted from the local map to the sight before them, showing the mining station in orbit of one of the outer moons of the Proxidium system, built to process ore brought up from the barren surface below. And nearby, nothing but a dark emerald speck against the black, the shadow of a Klingon-built bird-of-prey raining disruptor fire that crackled harmlessly against the station’s shielding.

‘What are they screwing around with?’ Kharth said irritably.

‘Scans of the bird-of-prey confirm it matches the profile of a ship decommissioned by the Klingon Empire six years ago,’ Airex read coolly from his scans. ‘Someone stole this husk and gave it a new lease on life.’

‘And they’re not stupid enough to ignore us,’ said Kharth. ‘They’ve stopped firing. They’ve come about, but they’re not getting closer.’

Rourke stood and glanced to Lindgren. ‘Elsa, how’s the station?’

‘They don’t know the extent of their losses on the outer facilities, but everything’s locked up tight now. They can wait this out.’

‘Good. Hail the bird-of-prey.’ At the inevitable lack of response, he sighed. ‘Then put me on an open channel.’ Rourke took a deep breath as the comm systems bleeped. ‘Bird-of-prey, this is Captain Rourke of the Federation starship Endeavour. You must have figured out now that you don’t stand a chance against an Obena-class. Power your systems down and prepare to be taken into custody.’

Silence fell, then Arys shook his head. ‘They’re turning to run, sir.’

‘Pursue,’ Rourke said calmly. ‘Launch the Black Knights and tell them to catch up and harry them, and keep them under long-range fire, Kharth. I don’t want them cloaking and these bastards are getting arrested. You don’t waltz this far over the border just to be chased off like they’re in our back yard raiding our bins.’

‘Aye, sir,’ said Kharth, hands drifting over her controls. ‘Keeping them under pressure. We’re too far out for me to reliably target their engines.’

‘Full speed. At the least we chase them off from the station.’

‘Sir.’ Arys’s voice was apprehensive. ‘They’re heading deeper into the system. Looks like they’re aiming for the network of moons around the eighth planet.’

‘Guess they don’t want to try to beat us in a sprint in open terrain where we can take more pops at them,’ sighed Rourke. ‘Let’s wrap this up before they pull us into a game of cat-and-mouse, people.’

Endeavour thundered under them, the deck humming as she blazed along at full power. Valance kept her grip on the armrests tight; while this encounter was nothing to severely press the might of their ship, she never took anything for granted. Especially not with the vast unknowns of pirate factions.

‘Yeah,’ said Arys after a minute. ‘They’re heading for the gas giant.’

‘Black Knights are in weapons range,’ Valance reported, looking up from her panel. ‘I’m ordering them to engage at a distance so they don’t get in our way. They can move to tie them up tighter if they try to give us the slip.’

‘Good,’ said Rourke. ‘Let’s close this gap -’

‘Sir.’ Airex’s voice held a fresh urgency. ‘I’m picking up significant readings of antimatter in a condensed spot ahead of their path. I think there’s…’ He hesitated. ‘I think there’s a mine out there.’

Rourke scoffed. ‘Sneaky bastards. Kharth, do you think you can hit that?’

A pause as the tactical officer ran the calculations. ‘Yeah. Yes, I can do that.’

‘Have the Black Knights fall back, and get us as close as is safe so they don’t realise we’re onto them. They’re going to try to lure us into the mine’s path. But when they’re close to it, hit the mine and detonate it.’ Rourke shrugged. ‘They probably won’t get near enough for it to take them out, but it’ll give them a hell of a bad day.’

Valance nodded with a tight smile. ‘I’ll have the Black Knights split off to look like they’re trying to cut them off.’

‘So if this doesn’t work,’ Rourke mused, ‘at least the Black Knights can cut them off.’

‘Bird-of-prey’s path is coming up about as close to the mine as they can risk,’ Kharth called minutes later.

Rourke nodded. ‘Fire.’

It was a low-yield torpedo that was launched – enough firepower to trigger another explosion, with all of the precision the torpedo allowed against a stationary target. Valance watched on her arm panel as the torpedo soared past the bird-of-prey, then hit the target that had been only manually tagged on their sensors by Airex – then detonated.

‘That’s definitely hit something,’ she said, watching the blast of several magnitudes greater than just one torpedo.

‘Would have given us a real bad day,’ Kharth agreed.

‘They avoided the worst of it – but their shields are down, and their flight systems are damaged,’ called Airex. ‘If we move fast, they won’t have time to recover.’

‘Are there any other mines out there?’ Rourke asked.

‘Not that I can see.’

‘Then bring us in. Kharth, take out their engines, and -’

A blip flashed on the sensors, and Valance’s heart caught in her throat. ‘Enemy ship decloaking off our aft -’

Then they were hit. It must have been a full salvo of weapons fire, disruptors and torpedoes, and though Valance felt Endeavour’s shields absorbed it, the ship still rocked at the shuddering impact and the hull groaned underneath and around them.

Rourke grunted as he fought to keep his seat. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Two – no, make that three more birds-of-prey just decloaked off our aft!’ Kharth called. ‘They hit us hard; shields are down to twenty percent!’

Valance swore. ‘They were trying to draw us out. If we’d hit that mine…’

‘Then we’d be toast.’ Rourke still didn’t sound victorious. This would still be a tough fight. ‘Tell the Black Knights to disable that first bird-of-prey, then to come the hell back in to give us backup.’

‘I’m redirecting all emergency power to boosting our shields,’ called Thawn.

‘Have these bastards hailed us?’ Rourke snapped to Lindgren, but she shook her head. He braced his grasp on the armrest. ‘Focus fire on one bird-of-prey – hit them with two torpedoes from our aft launcher, then flip us around and go right for them. We’re faster than they think we are. We’ll do this one at a time if we have to, and if we do it right, we’ll scare them shitless by ripping the guts out of their friend.’

These were good tactics for raiders, Valance thought. Bring Starfleet’s might down on one lone ship and the morale and discipline of the others would break. But already these raiders were showing more resources and sophistication than she’d expect of their ilk.

‘If they’ve got all of this going for them,’ she said quietly to Rourke, brow furrowed, ‘then why didn’t they use it to make off with a prize from the mining station? Why lure us here?’

He scowled even deeper. ‘I don’t know. We worry about that later. First, we’ve got to beat the odds.’

Then the next wave of enemy weapons fire thudded into them, even as Endeavour came hurtling down to try to snap one of the new arrivals in its jaws. Its allies rained down hell on the Starfleet ship, and their prey just managed to slither out from their grasp. If anything was more manoeuvrable than them, it was these small, efficient ships.

‘They’re marked,’ Kharth said, voice rasping. ‘But they’re still going.’

‘Our shields are down to ten percent,’ said Thawn. ‘Sir, we need breathing room if we’re going to recharge.’

‘We get breathing room when we bloody them; they know better than to give it otherwise,’ Rourke snapped. ‘Call back the Black Knights to assist and stay on that raider.’

Another thump of weapons fire hitting them. A new, terse call from Thawn, ‘Five percent!’

‘We just can’t pin this guy down,’ Kharth swore.

Rourke’s lips twisted. ‘There’s no way they only had one mine,’ he said at last. ‘Evasive manoeuvres, Mister Arys. Commander Airex, find me the rest of their trap.’

‘Scanning – sir!’ Airex’s fresh dose of urgency almost made Valance’s heart close into a fist. But in a split second it was changed for elation. ‘Three Starfleet ships dropping out of warp!’

Kharth gave a low, victorious sound. ‘One Inquiry, one Diligent, one Reliant. All in formation and heading this way.’

In mere moments the formation had surged through the heart of the system, and Valance’s gaze was lifted to the viewscreen to watch as their reinforcements fell on the birds-of-prey. Endeavour could have won the fight, though it would have been vicious and it would have been costly. The raiders had no hope against equal numbers of superior firepower.

‘Raiders are turning tail,’ she reported after a moment. ‘It looks like the mine took out the cloak on the first one, so none of them are cloaking. They’re scattering and going to warp. We’d have to pick one to pursue.’ Not that Endeavour was going anywhere imminently.

‘Sir,’ called Lindgren. ‘The lead ship is hailing us.’

Rourke made a grateful sound and waved a hand. ‘Put them through.’

The viewscreen shifted to show the bridge of an Inquiry-class plunged into the crimson depths of red alert. The central seat was taken by a husky human figure, his black hair streaked with silver, good looks that must have once been boyish now weathered with age. The four pips on his collar were underlined by a bar.

‘Endeavour, this is Fleet Captain Jericho of the USS Triumph. Looks like you’re in a tight spot here – can we help?’

There was a playful, confident air to Jericho’s voice, and Rourke matched it with his own grin. ‘Pretty good timing, Captain. We had them on the ropes, but I figure if you want to play, we won’t be greedy.’ But he sobered quickly. ‘We took a battering on our shields and our power systems are strained, but nothing more.’

‘Good.’ Jericho checked something off-screen, then nodded. ‘I’m sending the Independence to chase down that damaged ship. The Nighthawk is gonna check on the mining station, see what help they need.’ Valance glanced at the sensors to spot the Diligent-class moving to follow the birds-of-prey, while the Reliant came about for the perimeter of the system, and the station.

‘That’s great,’ said Rourke. ‘Between Endeavour and the Triumph we can chase down another two -’

‘Not so fast, Captain.’ Jericho raised a hand. ‘Our timing wasn’t an accident. I expected to see you at Starbase 86, but we’re here now. Independence can follow, find where these guys are going to ground, and we’ll deal with it later. So we should talk. I’ll beam aboard.’

Rourke tensed with apprehension. ‘I… is that the most important thing, Captain?’

‘It sure is. And for one simple reason, Captain Rourke: ‘cos it’s Fleet Captain, and ‘cos I say so. You see, you and Endeavour are coming under my command now.’

‘Attention on deck!’ Ever the professional, Commander Valance was first to her feet when the turbolift doors slid open and Fleet Captain Jericho set foot on Endeavour’s bridge. If he had been an impressive over the viewscreen, he was somehow more so in-person. The communications systems could not pick up the wave of presence emanating from him, amiable smile not undermining the firm steps, the straight-backed posture.

Rourke approached, hand extended, trying to keep his expression as warm and welcoming as possible despite the ice in his gut. ‘Welcome aboard Endeavour, sir. We’re indebted to you for your timing out there.’

Lionel Jericho gave a grin that only made him possess more of the space around him as he shook Rourke’s hand. ‘You’d have handled it, a boat like this against some pirate scum. But I’m glad we could take the pressure off, make sure the station gets the help it needs, make sure the bad guys are being run down.’ He looked away from Rourke for his sweeping gaze to take in the whole bridge, and for the whole bridge to take him in. ‘We watched on long-distance sensors on our race here. They set you a trap, and you were too smart to fall for it. Bad day to be them. Good work, everyone.’

Rourke glanced back, felt the compliments fall onto his crew, and tried to not feel condescended. Perhaps Endeavour would have won the fight themselves – but there would have been a cost. The squadron’s arrival had doubtless saved lives. ‘You said we should talk in private.’ He gestured to his ready room, and without comment or complaint Jericho followed him to the private office.

‘That could have been a real mess out there,’ Jericho sighed once the doors were shut behind him. ‘If you’d followed them onto that mine, I don’t know if we’d have got there in time.’

Rourke watched him a moment, then advanced on the cabinet by the viewport. Beyond he could see the gas giant they’d done battle above, but also, hovering a distance away, the sleek shape of the USS Triumph. ‘I’ve got a good team with good eyes,’ he said, dismissing the compliment, forcing fewer smiles now they were in private. He picked up his bottle of Islay. ‘Can I offer you a drink, sir?’

‘I shouldn’t, but – just the one.’ Jericho’s smile was wry. ‘And I think we can drop some of the formalities behind closed doors, if that’s okay by you.’

With his back to the other man as he poured drinks, Rourke allowed himself just the slightest tightening of the jaw. ‘Sure. Lionel?’

‘Matt.’ Jericho accepted the glass with a tighter smile. ‘The Independence is chasing down that bird you winged. Commander Vornar’s a smart man; he’ll figure out if he needs to bring them in, or if he can follow them to a nest where we take the whole lot out.’

‘If we do, Endeavour’s ready to join the hunt. These were bold pirates.’

Jericho raised a hand to cut him off, then gestured to the seats at Rourke’s desk. Both men sat, Rourke trying to not bristle at being invited to sit in his own office. ‘It’ll be best if Endeavour heads right on for Starbase 86 once we’re done here. The Nighthawk can see if the station will benefit from your help, but me and my ships can deal with these guys. After all – I don’t think they’re just pirates.’

Rourke had a suspicious sip of whisky. ‘Reports say Mo’Kai got vicious these past two months.’

‘Oh, they weren’t House of Mo’Kai ships either, but I’d be shocked if they weren’t freelancers on the payroll. That wasn’t a raid to make off with a load of ore. That was a feint to lure in a Starfleet ship, and a trap to take you down. Would have worked if you’d run into that mine.’ Jericho had a swig of his own drink. ‘But yeah, while you’ve been off in the Delta, things got nastier on the border. Mo’Kai have turned their eye on making the Federation look like they don’t have control in places like the Korwenna Sector, throwing their weight behind the political disruption. Hitting a ship like Endeavour hard so near the border would have been a great prize to them.’

‘Me and my crew aren’t unfamiliar with the Mo’Kai.’

‘I know; that’s not why I want you at Starbase 86.’ Jericho set the glass down and smacked his lips. ‘Best I jump to the heart of things, isn’t it. You’re wondering why I’m giving you orders.’

‘And why you said I and my ship are under your command.’

‘That’s because you are.’ The older man tilted his chin up an inch. ‘You know how bad and difficult this border is. You’ve been here over a year. Now with the Mo’Kai making things harder, Fourth Fleet Operations want me heading up a squadron to keep things stable. Endeavour will join with Nighthawk and Independence following Triumph’s lead on that.’

Rourke fought to keep his expression flat. ‘Border security? Endeavour has a mission; First Secretary Hale -’

‘Is going to continue the good work of the Diplomatic Corps and Starfleet in making friends and helping keep the region on its feet. But that mission isn’t what it used to be, not now the Star Empire’s nothing but dust. Situation’s more dangerous now. So she can run her mission from the Triumph, and I can keep more of a Starfleet hand on the reins.’

Their eyes met for a long moment, Jericho’s gaze firm, Rourke fighting to push back the first thing he wanted to say. In the end he put his glass down, sat up, and said, ‘I don’t think I understand. Endeavour is a powerful ship, an effective diplomatic platform, and you want to put her under an Inquiry-class to -’

‘This isn’t about our relative ships’ capabilities,’ Jericho said, voice going softer. ‘Though it’s worth pointing out that, if we’re gonna be hunting Mo’Kai, maybe a ship with families aboard shouldn’t be taking point.’

‘Endeavour’s a safe -’

‘Nowhere’s safe, and that’s not really the point; like I said, it’s not about our ships. Do I really need to explain it more, Matt?’

Rourke’s jaw clenched. ‘I think you’d better.’

‘First, like I said. The political and strategic situation’s changed. The feel-good mission of making friends and righting wrongs can continue, but it’s gotta be done with more teeth.’

‘So why -’

‘You had a spy in your midst for eighteen months, Matt.’ For what it was worth, Jericho looked like he hadn’t wanted to say it. ‘A spy who cost you a ship – yeah, while you were gone, that’s the belief of Starfleet Intelligence, that it was her and her doppelganger cronies who took out the last Endeavour, not the damn Romulan Rebirth Movement. Who’ve not so much as whispered after apparently having the resources to infiltrate Starbase goddamn Bravo.’

Rourke slumped back like he’d been hit in the chest, but Jericho kept talking. ‘You had an enemy agent right under your nose, running Starfleet intel for a sector’s worth of operations, and were none the wiser. We still don’t know how badly we – you – were compromised. Don’t get me wrong, if we were putting the blame all at your feet you’d know, ‘cos an enquiry would say so. But you bet your ass Command reckons your judgement ain’t the best in the business.’

It took effort to not tighten his grip too much on the glass of whisky. ‘So now I answer to you.’

‘Now that we’re up against an enemy who thrives on infiltration and subterfuge, yeah. Now you answer to me. The mission’s the same, just with bigger sticks, and me calling the shots instead of you or the Diplomatic Corps.’ Jericho subsided with a hint of regret, but his apparent guilt didn’t fade as he pulled out a PADD and slid it across the desk. ‘So your first order of business is to proceed to Starbase 86 for personnel changes.’

The bottom dropped out of Rourke’s gut. ‘I have final say on my crew -’

‘No, Matt. I’m sorry, but you don’t. We’re a squadron now, and I gotta think of us as a collective unit, not a series of individuals.’

Rourke picked up the PADD, not even trying to keep his cool now. ‘Cortez? No way.’

‘Commander Cortez was already in consideration for an SCE post; that transfer’s just being green-lit. So I want her running the squadron’s SCE Team, which is a way better use of her versatility and talent, and I want her running it from the Triumph.’

‘Endeavour is far better equipped to -’

‘I will have my damn staffers on my damn ship, Matt!’ Frustration at last escaped Jericho’s voice. ‘You’ve got some real gems in your crew and I get you not wanting to lose them, but they can be better used other places. I want our squadron integrating better, not just to shore up inexperience in different places, but so we are one team. I’ll be taking one of your department heads for Triumph’s senior staff, just as soon as I’ve figured out the answer to one other question.’

At last, Jericho sounded apprehensive. Rourke’s eyes narrowed. ‘What question?’

Jericho took a deep breath. ‘Who to put in place as your new XO. I’m sending Commander Valance to the Nighthawk.’

‘Absolutely not.’ Rourke exploded to his feet at that, the whisky glass rattling as he knocked the desk.

‘Valance is the most experienced first officer in the squadron, and while Commander Kosst is pretty good, she’s also pretty green –’

Rourke planted his hands on the desk. ‘You’re taking Valance from the Endeavour to be XO of a less-experienced officer on a goddamn Reliant –’

‘To be the XO of a good ship under a good commander,’ Jericho said, also standing. ‘I’ve worked with Kosst a couple years now, and I won’t let you dismiss her. Kosst and Valance will make a great team.’

Rourke’s nostrils flared. ‘Commander Kosst might be the next Jim Kirk for all I care, but this is a demotion for Valance, and you know it. Why not give Kosst one of your officers?’

Jericho tensed. ‘I’d trust my XO, Commander Ranicus, with my life. But she’s only been my first officer about two years since Vornar left for Independence; that’s nothing compared to Valance’s experience.’

So Vornar was one of yours, and you got him his own ship. Now you need to shore up experience on an inauspicious assignment, but you won’t give that thankless job to one of yours. Rourke’s lip curled. ‘And Valance makes way so one of your own gets the feather in their cap of being Endeavour’s XO.’

‘I put a less-experienced executive officer under a seasoned captain like you. Meanwhile I shore up a less-experienced captain with a veteran XO. What do you want me to do, Matt, strip Kosst of her command?’

Rourke’s shoulders slumped, and he stared at a spot on the desk for a moment. When finally he found his voice, he could not find much strength to go with it. ‘Which department head are you expecting to take from me?’

‘I haven’t decided yet.’ Jericho spoke with the most delicate edge making it plain he didn’t have to, not yet. ‘Could be Thawn, could be Arys, could be Airex. Depends on who I send your way.’

‘So pretty much all my bridge officers except for Kharth or Rosewood.’

‘Nobody needs a diplomatic department, and nobody needs John Rosewood.’ There was an unexpected familiarity to the scoff. ‘And I think Commander Kharth’s best staying with you.’

Rourke couldn’t place the tone in the last statement, his head spinning too badly. ‘And my new Chief Engineer?’

‘That’s why I want you at Starbase 86. No transfers will be finalised until then – I’m not screwing around with our duty rosters when Triumph and Nighthawk might have a Mo’Kai hunt on our hands. But replacement staff will meet you there.’ Jericho drained the whisky and straightened. ‘I know this isn’t fun, Matt. I know a good crew’s like family. But it’s my intention for the squadron to be our new family. And Daniran Kosst’s a good officer, and Ramius Vornar’s a good man, but he doesn’t have the command experience you and me got. We’ve gotta be at the head of this.’

‘You’ve got to be at the head of this.’ Rourke straightened.

‘That’s how the chain of command traditionally works, yeah. I don’t expect you to like this. But I’m making these decisions ‘cos I respect the work you and your people have done. This is the nature of Starfleet. And these are the choices which are gonna make us the best we can be to make people’s lives better out here.’ Fleet Captain Jericho neatened his uniform jacket. ‘I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news. Best this is done quick so we can get to healing and becoming something new. We’re gonna do good things, together, Matt, but first I’ll let you get to Starbase 86 and enjoy the last few days with your people before things change. And change don’t have to be all bad.’

‘While you,’ Rourke rumbled, ‘run down Mo’Kai agents.’

‘While I run down rats on a Mo’Kai payroll.’ Jericho shook his head. ‘Thanks for the drink, Captain. You’ve got your orders. I’ll see you in a few days.’

Rourke watched him go, fist pressed tight against the desk surface. Only once the doors were shut did he grab his whisky and drain the glass. Only once the magnitude of these changes sunk in, moments later, did he swear loudly.

And only once he realised the depths of his complete helplessness in the face of this change did he slump back in his seat, and bury his face in his hands.

‘Your breathing’s off.’ The impact of Rhade’s blow against the punching bag was enough to force Kharth to plant her feet anyway. ‘…you still hit like a stampede.’

Rhade pivoted away from the bag with a frustrated huff. ‘My focus is off.’

‘No kidding.’ She let the bag go and cast a wary glance around Endeavour’s gym. It was quiet enough for this. ‘Pre-wedding jitters?’

His grimace suggested she wasn’t a million light-years off, but he shook his head as he adjusted his gloves. ‘The reports. This Captain Jericho business.’

‘You’re worried it’ll be Thawn he poaches for the Triumph? I hear their Ops manager’s pretty good and pretty seasoned. He might be a solid candidate to make XO on Endeavour.’ Someone else might have tried to give reassurance, stop Rhade from worrying about things he couldn’t affect that might not happen. Kharth had instead assessed the possible successors for Valance and was comfortable in her analysis.

‘No, I… this is Starfleet life. If Rosara and I are to be parted, at least it will be after the ceremony. Some day, we’ll have decades to spend together.’ Rhade’s broad features folded into an unhappy frown. ‘I mean all of the rumours about why Captain Rourke’s been passed over.’

Kharth harrumphed. ‘We don’t screw up this bad and get away with it. Dathan wasn’t just a spy, she was a spy with access to some of our most classified information. I bet Admiral Beckett couldn’t wait to throw Endeavour under the thruster exhaust if the alternative was him taking the fall for recruiting her in the first place.’

‘But it’s not our screw-up, is it?’ He was staring at his gloves as he fiddled, the big man suddenly looking almost small, childish in his apprehension. She was silent to let him talk, and he at last carried on. ‘I’m the one who took her in.’

‘Took her…’ Kharth stared at him. ‘Okay, let’s work through this. She was assigned to us by the Director of Fourth Fleet Intelligence during the Archanis Campaign. You were brand-new to Endeavour then. So, the word of Admiral Beckett wasn’t good enough, we were just desperate for this nobody lieutenant from someplace else to vouch before we trusted her?’

He winced. ‘I mean that I helped her integrate, find her place among us…’

‘She was a spy, Rhade. It was her job to integrate. She fooled me and, no offence, who I trust doesn’t have much to do with your say-so.’ Her hand dropped from the punching bag. ‘It’s downright arrogant for you to act like all of this is your fault. You screwed up, sure, but I did too, and I’m Chief of Security. Rourke did, and he’s the captain.’ Despite herself, she softened. ‘This is either nobody’s fault but hers, or it’s everyone’s fault. You can feel like shit because she was your friend, but that doesn’t mean we’re on the political dung-heap because of your kindness.’

At last, Rhade’s lips thinned to something approximating a wry smile. ‘You’re always so reassuring, Commander.’

‘It’s a gift of mine. Now, my turn with the bag.’

She left the gym a half-hour later, Rhade lingering to hit the treadmill. He was a kind man, but a physique like that didn’t come to very interesting people with varied hobbies, she mused as she left him behind. But despite her reassurances, she had bigger fish to fry than Adamant Rhade’s self-absorbed guilt.

Her quarry was in the Round Table, PADDs spread out before him on the bar, a steaming coffee beside him, and Kharth slid onto the next stool to peer at mugshots of identically fresh-faced officers. ‘You’ve been asked to judge the winner of the Academy’s Clean-Cut Award 2400.’

It was a poor joke, but that was what passed for banter between her and Airex these days – desperate to act like something resembled normalcy between them, too self-conscious to properly let loose. He gave a polite grimace of a smile and stacked the PADDs. ‘Shopping for Lieutenant Beckett’s replacement. There aren’t many serious anthropologists with experience with the Romulan diaspora who want to serve on a ship.’ He looked at her. ‘You want something.’

She scowled. ‘What makes you say that?’

‘It’s not an accusation,’ he said quickly. ‘But you’ve come straight from the gym. This isn’t popping in for a chat.’

‘Are you saying I should have hit the shower?’

‘Commander.’ Airex’s tension was shot through with anxiety. ‘I’m really sorry, but -’

‘There’s no way you’re about to be transferred to the Triumph.’ Kharth shrugged at his bemused expression. ‘I’ve been looking at their personnel roster. Their Chief Science Officer is far, far too junior to be bumped up to XO. We’ll get Malhotra, their Operations Chief, and we’ll have to send them Thawn, for sure.’

He let out a slow breath. ‘It wasn’t the first thing on my mind. But I’d be lying if I denied a certain apprehension about coming back to Endeavour only to be forcibly reassigned somewhere else.’

‘You’re worried about Valance leaving.’ At his faint nod, she sighed. ‘Me too.’

Now he squinted. ‘You are?’

‘Not about her.’ Kharth made a face. ‘She’ll be fine wherever she goes. But you get what Jericho’s doing, right, by removing her and putting one of his own in place? Screw this “we’re all now one big family” stuff, he’s putting one of his own right next to the captain.’

Airex let out a slow breath. ‘I’m not going to deny that politics are at play,’ he said slowly, ‘but just because we disagree with and dislike Captain Jericho’s decisions, that doesn’t automatically mean they’re cynical. And – so what, anyway? What are we to do about it?’

‘Soon enough, we’re going to be the only two people left with any seniority the captain knows he can count on.’ Kharth leaned in. ‘We have to make sure he can count on us.’

Another inhale from Airex. ‘I would think that any Starfleet officer can be counted on.’

‘Don’t be naive -’

‘I’m not being naive, I’m simply not jumping to the worst case scenario. I dislike these changes, but I know a lot of my dislike is personal. Fleet Captain Jericho has an astonishing record, as does the Triumph, of keeping the peace in Federation territory these past ten years.’

‘You mean of being a champion of Starfleet’s xenophobia and refusal to help anyone but themselves.’ She couldn’t keep acid from her voice. ‘They gave him an Inquiry and sent him to protect people who vote. Not the people who need help the most.’

‘Many officers have done that the past ten years,’ he reminded her gently.

‘Then forgive me,’ Kharth said, not sounding or feeling very sorry at all, ‘for being suspicious of a man who seems to champion the so-called realpolitik that abandoned millions of my people and is now our unit commander.’

That stopped him short, and Airex sighed. ‘I’ve got the captain’s back. I’ve got your back. I don’t want you to doubt my loyalty. All I’m saying is that it’s a bit early to start drawing up battle lines, no?’

Loyalty. That was a dodgy word for Airex to throw around. But it wasn’t him she was angry with, not really, and picking a fight was still a dangerous emotional minefield she wasn’t ready to set foot on just yet. She irritably got to her feet instead. ‘I think there’s a reason Captain Jericho ruled out only two members of Endeavour’s senior staff from joining the Triumph. I don’t know what his problem with Rosewood is. But I don’t need to guess why he ruled me out. And that’s fine – I don’t want to leave. But don’t say I’m the one drawing up battle lines.’

Airex winced. ‘That’s a serious accusation.’

She slung her towel over her shoulder and turned away. ‘Not as serious as me being right.’

‘Matt.’ Vice Admiral Alexander Beckett’s face was like granite as the holographic image appeared above Rourke’s desk. ‘This better be good.’

Rourke took a sip of whisky and leaned back in his chair. He’d made sure to take this call in his ready room, and instructed Lindgren he was not to be disturbed. ‘I think you know exactly what this is about, sir.’

Beckett had the good grace to not drag that out further. ‘Jericho. I’m sorry, Matt, but you can’t come running to me every time you face adversity –’

‘Adversity in this case is me being screwed by something you’ve got equal shares in.’

Beckett sighed. ‘If you think this is just about Dathan, then you’re more naive than I thought.’ He shrugged. ‘Lionel Jericho is from the school of thought that never wanted the Fourth Fleet going back out there. That never wanted to lift the synth ban, that never wanted Starfleet to reach its hand back out.’

‘You mean, nothing like you,’ Rourke mused.

Beckett ignored that. ‘This was an opportunity for those factions to clip the wings on Ms Hale’s mission, because otherwise – they would argue – she’ll run around giving everything to Romulan refugees and ignore our own security, our own people, our own needs. The Dathan situation is just a smoke-screen.’ Then he winced. ‘It is, however, a smoke-screen which means I really can’t help you.’

‘Because otherwise you’d get tarred with the same brush. So I get made a scapegoat, not just because it’s politically convenient for Hale’s enemies, but because it’s politically convenient for you.’ He’d meant to make this polite, but already he was snapping and jabbing a finger at the projection.

‘I have to be realistic. You have to be realistic. You can still do the good you wanted to under Jericho’s nose. As I recall, being under my nose didn’t stop you doing what you pleased.’ For one of the few times ever, Beckett sounded approving. ‘The tide is turning against the likes of Jericho. Wait him out and you’ll be your own master again in no time.’

‘And in the meantime he rips apart my crew, rips apart my mission, and turns his back on thousands in need. Your advice is that I wait?’ But he knew Beckett didn’t have much better for him, and scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘What’s his problem with Rosewood?’

That made the admiral pause, surprised by the shift. ‘Commodore Carter Rosewood and Lionel Jericho are old rivals. Jericho’s not a fool; he knows they’re a political family, and that means John Rosewood is probably one of the biggest threats in his immediate circle. I expect Jericho to ship Rosewood off as soon as possible. If you’re smart, you’ll stop him.’

Rourke sighed. ‘He’s moving diplomatic operations to the Triumph; I expect I won’t justify keeping a diplomatic detachment aboard Endeavour.’

‘I can’t teach you how to play politics, Matt, if your only move is to run crying to me. And I cannot help you against Lionel Jericho.’

‘I know you and I don’t always see eye to eye, Alex, but I have worked for you for years. Ever since taking on Endeavour, I’ve been your captain in the field. If Jericho calls all of the shots in this squadron, you lose that.’

‘I’m well aware he’s taken one of my prized chess pieces,’ said Admiral Beckett, because anything else would make it seem like he cared about people. ‘Don’t pretend I’m not displeased by this. And maybe in a few months, in a year, once Jericho’s made some decisions I can wield against him, I can help. But I have no cards now, Matt. I can’t help you.’

He’d expected this, and still he closed his eyes. ‘Not against Jericho,’ he said at last. ‘But you can still help me.’

‘I don’t –’

‘I’m not just one of your agents,’ Rourke pressed, leaning forward. ‘You said as much. I saved your life in the war ten times, I saved your ship as your XO twenty times. You and I don’t always agree, but we have always, always had each other’s backs when it matters. So this is it: I’m cashing in every favour you ever owed me. If this means I’m burning all my credit, if this means you and I are done, then so be it.’

Alexander Beckett drew a sharp breath. ‘I am running out of words to explain this –’

‘I’m not asking you to do a damn thing about Lionel Jericho.’ Rourke straightened. ‘I want you to find Karana Valance her own ship. Worthy of her talents.’

That made Beckett stop short, his expression shifting. It wasn’t just surprise in there, Rourke thought. It was something bordering on affection. ‘All those favours,’ he said softly after a beat. ‘With an admiral, no less. And you want to use it so your XO doesn’t get a mediocre assignment?’

‘I asked her to stay two years ago. She could be a captain by now, have a serious command by now. This doesn’t have to undermine Jericho, this doesn’t have to impact the squadron leadership one jot. He’s throwing his weight around already by assigning her to the Nighthawk. And it’d be a waste.’

‘You don’t need to explain this,’ Beckett mused, gaze settling into thoughtfulness. ‘Remember who taught you loyalty in the first place.’ At length he inhaled. ‘It’ll still anger Jericho. It’ll still cost me.’

‘It’s one -’

‘It’s not one small thing. It’s getting your pet a ship. I don’t care how qualified she is, it’s not small.’ Beckett’s expression went guarded. ‘I’m under scrutiny as it is. If I do this now, don’t expect me to be able to help you for a while.’

Part of Rourke fizzed with indignation. The rest of him saw the space between the lines. He blew his cheeks out. ‘I hear you.’

The admiral looked away, staring at something unseen in his office. ‘Have you convinced my son to make a less-foolish decision? I know he won’t listen to me.’

‘I’ve tried. I’ll keep trying, but -’

‘This isn’t a quid pro quo, Matt. I know you care about the boy.’ Beckett sighed. ‘I’ll be in touch.’

The comm line went dead and Rourke slumped back in his chair, scrubbing his face with his hands. It was more than he’d expected, and much, much less than he’d hoped. He glanced out the window of his ready room, stars streaming beyond. They were not far from Starbase 86, where he expected new crew would come aboard, his daughter would return, departing officers would disembark. Where Sophia Hale would be waiting – but not for him. For the Triumph.

Matt Rourke had never much cared for politics. But there was one lesson Admiral Beckett had taught him that he’d had the decency to not repeat in their conversation.

If you don’t play politics, they’ll play you.

‘Trust you to get your own pickup and chauffeur,’ Lindgren joked as she and Arys walked with Beckett into the shuttlebay.

‘It’s because I’m very important.’ But it was difficult to stop his smirk from souring, and that wasn’t the note Beckett wanted to leave on. He gave an exaggerated shrug. ‘This way there’s less worry about traffic in and out of Starbase 86.’ They’d arrived at the station that morning, but the local area was busy enough and Endeavour large enough to keep them in a holding pattern at the periphery of the station’s air-space. It was a simple thing for his transport to dock briefly at Endeavour on its way out so he could board.

It was there already, a long passenger shuttle taking up far too much room for Chief Koya to tolerate its presence for too much time. The hatch had already been popped, a petty officer peering at the hubbub of the shuttle bay in search of him already. He waved a hand to be identified, then turned to the other two. ‘I better move fast.’

Arys grunted. ‘So you can rush to your dead-end career move.’

‘Please. Like I cared about success.’ Beckett laughed, because it was that or acknowledge everyone else was right.

‘Do you know where you’re headed?’ Lindgren looked less convinced.

‘Archaeology team down near Starbase 26.’ He paused. ‘Artifact storage and cataloguing, that is.’

‘It’s ridiculous,’ Arys snapped.

‘Oh, hey, look at the time. I gotta go.’ Beckett slung his bag over his shoulder. ‘Warm and supportive of you as always, Tar’lek.’

The Andorian at last looked a little abashed. ‘I don’t understand,’ he said defensively. ‘And I’m not sure you could explain it if you wanted to.’

‘I’m pretty sure I couldn’t.’ Their handshake was brisk. ‘I’ll see you around. Try to unclench at least once a day.’

‘He promises nothing,’ Lindgren said wryly, which of course made a bigger dent in Arys’s irritable austerity. She stepped forward to give Beckett a hug, and kissed him on the cheek. ‘You take care of yourself.’

‘I never do.’ His gaze flickered up to the shuttlebay main doors, but of course nobody else was arriving. Who else would come? He’d said his goodbyes to Rourke and even Airex. It was no time to let farewells linger.

It was, at long last, time to go.

On the wall display in the operations office, the feed updated to confirm the departure of the personnel transport. Thawn leaned against her desk, arms crossed, and wasn’t sure if something had eased inside her or simply gone numb. Either way, it was done.

She wasn’t on duty. She’d told herself she’d stopped by to tidy her office, aware of the risk she’d be shipping off before too long. But that was an excuse, and one on which she didn’t want to linger, even if she was also delaying what came next. Rhade had sounded tense and tired when he’d asked her to stop by his quarters. The list of possible things weighing on his mind was not short.

He didn’t look any more controlled when he let her into his rooms ten minutes later. ‘I know this was a bit short notice,’ he mumbled apologetically, shuffling back towards the sofa.

We’re getting married tomorrow. One would assume we can spend time together. Were they going to move into the same quarters afterwards? It would be nothing to fill in the paperwork. But again, the risk of being transferred to the Triumph loomed.

She decided to be neutral. ‘What’s wrong?’

He wrung his hands together in a gesture she knew she used when anxious. ‘There are things – I think it’s best we talk before it’s too late.’

The apprehension in her gut was not born of heartbreak. It was born of fear of having to lasso him back in-line. ‘Too late,’ she echoed.

‘Tomorrow. The wedding.’ Rhade drew a level breath. ‘I don’t think we should go ahead without you knowing the truth.’

That stopped her short. With a quick wave of the hand, she ushered them both to the comfortable chairs. She sat across from him. ‘Go on.’

‘I should have known it wouldn’t die easily. The Dathan situation.’

Thawn’s lips pursed. ‘The traitor situation.’

‘She wasn’t…’ He stopped himself and stared at his hands. ‘Yes. Kharth tells me that I shouldn’t be shouldering all the blame and responsibility for this.’

‘Kharth is right.’ Thawn didn’t really care if Kharth was right, but Rhade had been round and round in circles about this. He needed an escape vector, one way or another. ‘Are you saying we need to talk because the changes to Endeavour are your fault -’

‘I slept with her,’ he blurted. ‘Dathan, I mean.’

Thawn paused. ‘Well, I didn’t think you’d have slept with Kharth.’ It was easier to be glib, she thought. It meant she didn’t have to spend too much time processing the news. Still she drew a sharp breath. ‘I’m aware that your family don’t necessarily view arrangements like ours as exclusive. And I’ve – I’ve not expected you to live like that while nothing between us has been formalised.’

Rhade shook his head. ‘No.’

‘But this clearly happened while we all served together and you clearly kept it a secret…’ It wasn’t pain that she felt; it was more like the memory of pain, the imagining of pain. Real in its own way, but not the most pressing thing. Another obstacle to kick aside and move past.

‘Rosara.’ He stopped her short, finally meeting her gaze. ‘This happened on the ISS Endeavour.’

The pain vanished. Not because there was no injury, but because everything inside her became a sucking void. ‘When you were dragged off from the cell,’ she said blandly. He nodded. ‘While I had been dragged off from the cell. While I was being -’ Experimented on. Tortured.

His eyes dropped. ‘It’s when she told me the truth.’

‘So you fucked her?’ Thawn wasn’t used to shouting expletives, but now she erupted to her feet. ‘You discovered that she was a traitor, that we were in the hands of her people because she betrayed us, that they wanted to break me in half to use me as a weapon against other telepaths, but then she told you the truth and you just couldn’t resist her any longer?’

He stood, hands raised in cringing placation. ‘It’s not like that. And she didn’t betray us; she’s why we got away -’

‘She got us out of a mess she got us into!’ Thawn snapped. ‘And I’m sorry if I’m not sufficiently grateful to a woman who picked me out for torture!’

Rhade’s shoulders slumped. ‘I thought you should know,’ he rumbled, ‘before tomorrow.’

She had loved Noah Pierce, and denied it so hard it had broken her when he died. She’d kissed Nate Beckett, then threw them both on the rocks when it was inconvenient. Suddenly, Thawn’s betrayals didn’t bring as much guilt any more. ‘You’re damned right I should know!’

‘And I understand,’ he continued, ‘if this means you’ll call it off.’

That stopped her short. There was no way her aunt would accept this without a longer explanation, and she literally didn’t have the clearance level for that longer explanation. Even if she did, it was too wild for the matriarch of the Twelfth House to easily process. The last thing this was was an escape route. Just another knot in the tangled mess.

And Beckett was already long gone.

Rosara Thawn drew a deep, shaking breath, then looked Adamant Rhade in the eye. ‘You were right to tell me,’ she said at last, though her voice held no warmth. ‘Here’s what’s going to happen.’

Her footsteps were heavy as she walked the corridor, and no lighter when the double doors slid open to let her into Main Engineering. Even with Endeavour at rest near Starbase 86, the chamber was a hum of activity, and all Valance could do for long moments was stand there and watch. Watch as Isa Cortez moved through the space in a flurry of activity, watch as she brought the symphony that had been her management of this place to a crashing coda.

Cortez noticed her before she was finished, and a small, sad smile tugged at her lips even as she finished briefing Lieutenant Adupon. They ended with a quick handshake, then Cortez pulled the dour-faced Bolian in for a quick hug that he looked like he accepted on sufferance. She headed over to Valance, only for Valance to nod in the direction of the office.

‘I thought you were packing?’ Cortez said.

‘I’m almost done. I needed to come down here.’ The office was bare now, all packed away, and Valance realised this wasn’t much of an improvement as a space to hold this conversation. It was almost worse, so much more Cortez’s space than hers or theirs, but the die was cast now. ‘You’re ready to go?’

‘I’m packed to go. Adupon’s ready to hold down the fort until my successor gets here.’ Cortez’s lips twisted. ‘I don’t know if I’m glad or not that I’ll be able to stick my head in every once in a while.’

‘The proximity is… unusual.’

‘And it’s gotta be weirder for you.’ Cortez’s gaze softened. ‘Are you okay?’

Valance didn’t point out she’d been asked that several times since Rourke had broken the original news, and on none of those occasions had she been anything approaching okay. She’d spent hours studying the Nighthawk, her commander, her crew, and been left with nothing but guilty disappointment.

She seemed a fine ship. She just wasn’t Endeavour. Just wasn’t one of Starfleet’s mighty explorers. Not by a long margin.

‘Actually,’ she began at last, and raised a PADD, ‘Captain Rourke talked to me this morning.’

Had Cortez been less tired, she might have picked up the apprehension, but instead her eyes lit up. ‘He got Jericho to back down?’

‘No.’ Valance bit her lip and wished the best news of her life didn’t taste of ashes. ‘He got me a promotion.’

‘What?’

‘I’m to report,’ Valance said slowly, barely believing the words herself, ‘to the USS Pathfinder. To assume command.’

Cortez’s eyes widened to dinner-plates. ‘Shut the front door.’

‘She’s a long-range explorer,’ Valance continued in that same, measured voice. ‘I don’t know our orders yet, but it’ll be a ranging scientific mission of some kind.’

‘That’s incredible!’ Cortez flew forward, grabbing her arms and almost whirling her around. ‘That’s everything you deserve, that’s perfect – that’s a brand-new ship, she’s got to be so awesome, she’s…’

It was like Valance could see the other shoe dropping in Cortez’s mind, and her breath caught. We’ll still be in the same unit, they’d said to console themselves after Rourke had broken Jericho’s news. Our ships will be working side-by-side all the time. Even more than if one of us was on Endeavour. Nighthawk and Triumph are together all the time. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be fine.

‘…she’ll be far, far away from the squadron,’ Cortez said at last.

‘I asked,’ Valance said quietly, ‘about picking my own staff. The captain said there’s some leeway, but Jericho really wants you for the SCE, Isa…’

‘So I stay here.’ Cortez’s shoulders were sinking with her expression. ‘And you go off to the next big, exciting thing.’ She stepped away, hands coming to her hips, and let out a deep breath as she stared at the deck. ‘Shit, I knew it was gonna go down this way. I knew it.’

‘Isa…’

Cortez raised a hand. ‘I – damn it, I don’t expect you to say no to this, I don’t expect you to not just stay but take what’s basically a demotion for me, Kar, but – shit.’ When she lifted her head, her eyes were shining. ‘I thought we were still gonna be together.’

‘I don’t know where Pathfinder will be sent,’ Valance admitted. ‘But there are significant exploratory opportunities in this region, and the captain suggested it’ll be part of the same effort -’

‘On a huge-ass border, and there’s no way a Pathfinder-class hangs around with a squadron like this.’ Cortez’s nose wrinkled. ‘Don’t pretend this ain’t a separation.’ Valance didn’t have anything to say to that, and Cortez glared at the office door. ‘Shit.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know. Not sorry enough to turn down the ship.’

Valance bristled. ‘You’d ask me to stay on the Nighthawk –’

‘I’m not asking for anything, but don’t expect me to sing a song about this!’ Cortez bit her lip. ‘I’m happy for you,’ she admitted after a moment, begrudgingly making eye contact. ‘I really am. I know you worked so hard for this, that this is an enormous opportunity for you, and it really speaks of how much Rourke cares about and respects you that he made this happen. Of course you have to do this. But let’s not kid ourselves.’

‘I don’t -’

‘Let’s not pretend,’ Cortez surged forward, voice wavering a hint, ‘that this isn’t the end for us.’

Valance opened her mouth to argue, but couldn’t find a single point to raise. She knew them, of course: thousands of Starfleet relationships were maintained over subspace communication. Tens of thousands more weren’t. They were both too career-minded and too pragmatic to assume this relationship would make the jump easily.

‘We don’t know what’s going to happen,’ Valance said weakly at last.

‘Which is why,’ Cortez said, sounding like she was forcing the words out, ‘we draw a line under things here. You and me. You walk away to the next thing. I walk away to the next thing. And then if – if – there’s a way back, a way to make it work, once we know what the hell’s going on with the squadron, the SCE team, the Pathfinder, only then do we screw around with promises and dreams.’

For someone so bubbly and enthusiastic and optimistic, Cortez was, at her heart, very practical. It was that practicality that underpinned her positivity, Valance thought. She believed in things she knew she could do or rely on or build. Not fairy tales.

Valance slumped. ‘I didn’t want it to go this way.’

‘You didn’t,’ Cortez allowed with a sigh, then glanced at the door. ‘I gotta wrap up here.’

‘Isa -’

Cortez didn’t stop as she passed, pausing only once she was at the open door. ‘Maybe you didn’t want it to go this way, Kar. But you sure as hell wanted the Pathfinder more than you wanted me. And I’m not surprised. But don’t act like I’m gonna be happy about being proved right. Again.’

I’m not Aria, Valance wanted to say. I didn’t make you put your heart on your sleeve, take a leap of faith with me, then abandon you because I care less about you than you do about me.

But she didn’t stop Cortez from leaving because, however much she knew the truth deep down, her words couldn’t ring sincerely enough even in her own ears for her to try them.

‘Since the days of the first wooden vessels, all ship masters have had one happy privilege: that of uniting two people in the bonds of matrimony.’

It did not look much like a happy privilege to Rourke as he stood in the arboretum before Adamant Rhade and Rosara Thawn, both looking like they faced a firing squad rather than oaths to commit to one another, surrounded by friends and colleagues. So he had to force his smiles, a rather more difficult prospect these days, and keep the atmosphere quietly respectful if it wasn’t going to be jubilant.

They gave their vows – standard issue – with sombre tones and expressions, and at the end of the ceremony he could not call their kiss anything more than perfunctory. Rhade managed a smile as they broke apart and the audience clapped and cheered, but Thawn looked as if she had gone a thousand light-years away.

‘We’d like,’ Rhade said as he turned to the gathered crowds, ‘for you all to join us in the Safe House to celebrate.’ Rourke had redoubled his expectations after the disruption of their new orders. Endeavour had reached Starbase 86 the day before, and most transfers would be leaving either that evening or tomorrow. This awkward and stiff marriage celebration was the last time they would all be together like this.

Rosara Thawn was many things, and was often called many things. A swot, a suck-up, and a kill-joy. But she was a damned good organiser, and so the Safe House was in perfect condition for a party celebrating a transition. Banners and streamers filled the lounge with colour, holographic projections gave variety to the window view, and Rourke suspected she’d been relieved to focus the party on the crew rather than her.

Music swung in to greet them, Rhade pulled Thawn off for a dance, Rourke grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the holographic wait staff and was wondering if he could get away with loosening the collar of his dress uniform just as John Rosewood appeared beside him and selected his own flute.

‘Hell of a party, Captain.’

‘What can I say. Thawn knows how to put an event together.’ Rourke sipped his champagne and tried to not be quietly resentful of how Rosewood’s dress uniform just made him look broad of shoulder and narrow of waist, while he’d had to suck his gut in a bit to get his trousers on. It was enough to make him cut to an uncharitable chase. ‘Have you received new orders yet, Commander?’

Rosewood’s lips twisted for a conspiratorial smile. ‘Not outright. But yeah, Command doesn’t see much need for a diplomatic detachment on Endeavour if Ms Hale’s gonna be on the Triumph and, well, Captain Jericho doesn’t want me.’

Rourke might have left it at that, but Admiral Beckett’s words echoed in his ears. I expect Jericho to ship Rosewood off as soon as possible. If you’re smart, you’ll stop him. He turned to the younger man. ‘Is there any way I can convince you to stay?’

‘You don’t need to convince me, you need to billet me.’ Rosewood tilted his head this way and that. ‘And convince me. But I thought you’d be glad to see the back of me, sir.’

‘I thought your assignment was redundant with Ms Hale aboard. I’ve never had a problem with you as an officer, Commander.’

‘That’s downright diplomatic of you, sir, if I can say so.’

Rourke couldn’t help but smirk at the joke, but the smile faded. ‘I guess I better put cards on the table: I’m not an idiot, and I know I’m better off for whatever’s coming if I’ve got you in my corner.’

‘For what’s coming?’ Rosewood raised his eyebrows with mock-innocence. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

Rourke didn’t know if this was fishing or a test. He worked his jaw for a moment. ‘I think the future of Starfleet policy in the region is going to be heavily impacted by what this new squadron does,’ he said at last, ‘and how successful we are with whatever we attempt. Whatever our command attempts. I think if we’re still here to impact and consider the bigger picture, it’d be good to have you involved.’

‘So we can succeed.’

‘So we can succeed at the right things.’ Rourke met the other man’s eyebrow raise. ‘I know you can probably get a much more alluring position somewhere else. Another diplomatic job, even first officer somewhere. And I don’t know what I can offer you until all the transfer papers are in.’

‘But you’ll probably need another bridge officer,’ said Rosewood, gaze sweeping across the crowd, lingering on where Rhade and Thawn had finished their one dance – and absolutely not had another.

‘I will,’ Rourke said with a poker face. Some conversations needed to be had first. ‘It’s not quite as much the career move…’

‘Sir, I want to be a ship captain some day,’ Rosewood said with calm self-assurance. ‘And to get there, what I need is a starship management position under my belt. If not on Endeavour, then, well. I hear the Nighthawk needs a new XO.’ He shrugged. ‘Might be I can do better somewhere completely different, but you see, there’s one thing I don’t think you appreciated about me since I came aboard.’

‘Oh?’

John Rosewood drained his champagne. ‘I actually believe in what we’re doing out here. I think it’s worth doing, and I think it’s worth my time to do. Get me a billet that’s not embarrassing, and I’m your man, Captain.’ He paused to deposit the empty flute on the tray of a passing holographic waiter. ‘Not to mention you badly need someone who knows how to play the game against Lionel fucking Jericho.’

He left at that, evidently pleased with himself for dropping on such a note, but Rourke let him. It suited him, after all, if the brash young officer was going to speak plainly about the politics in front of them.

He didn’t have many other allies who would. Kharth was more likely to offend than manipulate, Airex had turned deeply cautious since his return to the ship, Sadek would rather run a mile than play the game and he suspected Carraway was the same, and Lindgren would be an asset but not a play-maker. As for the others…

‘Captain.’

Rosara Thawn might have not looked that enthused about her wedding, but she was the picture of perfection in her dress, bright hair and dark eyes standing out against the emeralds flowing down her body. Still there was a tension, iron running through her, that made his breath catch with something close to sympathy.

‘Lieutenant.’ Rourke stepped in, offering a small and warm smile, and remembering the young officer who’d burst into tears on him within the first weeks of their meeting because she’d had so few outlets for her pain. ‘It was a beautiful ceremony.’

‘I’m grateful to you for it,’ she said, then her chin tilted up an inch as she stepped closer. ‘It would be nice if we could dance.’

She wanted something, and this was the way to get him for a conversation, and it was also completely appropriate. He couldn’t keep the sadness from his eyes as he extended his hand. ‘It would.’

They swept onto the dance floor with the slightest murmur of attention, and only once they were in the centre and with enough distance to talk quietly did he speak. ‘I’m sure you’ll get the chance to do this properly with your family -’

‘I will,’ she said quickly. ‘But I was wondering, sir, if you know what’s to happen with the staff arrangements. Particularly with who will be transferred to the Triumph.’

Rourke looked down at her, at her dark eyes and pale skin, and realised what feeling hummed through her as she asked. He’d assumed it would be apprehension, but now he saw it plainly enough: hope. He bit his lip before he answered. ‘Not you,’ he said softly. ‘I haven’t had the conversations I need to have yet, Lieutenant. But you’re not being sent to the Triumph.’

‘I see.’ Her head turned away an inch. ‘Good.’

His breath caught in his throat. ‘You don’t mean that, do you.’

‘Of course I -’

‘Lieutenant.’ He spun so she had to look at him, and they locked eyes. ‘You’ve been on Endeavour – an Endeavour anyway, with this crew anyway – for a long time. Most of your career. I’d understand a young, ambitious officer like you wanting to move on to a fresh challenge. There are a lot of opportunities flying around right now, places where an officer of your talent would be invaluable. You are one of the greatest assets in my staff, but if you want to…’ She faltered, on the cusp of hope, unable to take the plunge, and pity took over in him. ‘If you don’t ask to stay aboard before we’re finished dancing, I promise that you will have a bright new prospect worthy of your talents.’

When the song ended they came apart, and he gave his farewells before crossing the lounge to find his next target. Valance was at the bar next to Airex, both still on what looked like their first drink. ‘Airex.’ He looked at the tall science officer. ‘I want to borrow the commander a spell.’

There was no objection, but a certain tension tugged at Valance’s eyes as they were left alone – not for him, Rourke believed, but the awareness of what him coming over meant. The swan song was beginning. With a sigh, he leaned against the bar next to her and gestured for a drink, and for a long moment, neither of them said anything.

Valance broke the silence first, after awkwardly clearing her throat. ‘It was a nice ceremony.’

‘It wasn’t,’ Rourke grumbled as he reached for a fresh glass of champagne. ‘I thought Thawn was going to throw up on me.’ At her startled look, his lips twisted. ‘There’s one good thing that’s going to come out of this whole rotten situation, Karana: I don’t have to put on a front for you any more.’

Her shoulders sank at that, and she stared into space for a heartbeat before she turned to him. ‘Thank you. For everything, sir -’

‘Matt. It’s Matt now.’ He straightened as he faced her. ‘And you don’t owe me thanks. I should be thanking you, because you had my back in some of the worst damn situations a captain ever was in, and countless times I could shut my eyes and take the plunge because I knew you’d either be right behind me, or taking care of whatever was behind me.’ And some day, when you’re fully briefed, we’ll talk about Teros and the Omega Directive.

‘I was going to say,’ she cut in gently, ‘thank you for the Pathfinder.’

His chest twisted with bitter pride. ‘She’s no less than you deserve. I’d like you to consider us even after this. Which means what I’m going to do next doesn’t leave you more indebted to me, and you should consider this a going away present.’

‘S- Matt?’

Rourke smirked gently at her correction. ‘I want you to take Thawn with you. You’re going to need staff you can trust. She’s judgemental and self-righteous and a real suck-up, but she’s also the best there is.’

Valance’s gaze flickered across the crowd, from Thawn – stood quietly talking with Lindgren – to Rhade, over by Rosewood and Elvad, and back to Thawn again. She swallowed. ‘I think that’ll suit everyone,’ she allowed.

‘Not much does right now. I thought I’d do good while I could.’ His gaze moved from the blissless newlyweds to the most boisterous table in the lounge, where Cortez laughed with Sadek and her engineering team. He winced. ‘How’d she take it?’

‘She respected my choice,’ Valance said slowly. ‘And decided it’s the right time for us to go our separate ways.’

He tried to not grimace. A part of him wanted to say more, remembered how he’d let his marriage fester and fall – as ill-suited as he and Tess had been – because he’d put his work first for so many years. But he’d thrown this spanner in the works, pulled Valance away from the squadron, and it would feel like lecturing.

And just then, a new figure walked into the lounge in duty uniform, someone he’d never met before, and Rourke gave a sigh. ‘There’s someone I should talk to,’ he groaned, putting his glass down. ‘If there’s one thing you should do, Karana, it’s make the most of tonight. And say goodbye properly if you can. To Isa. To everyone.’

Valance followed his gaze, and her eyebrow quirked. ‘You should settle my replacement in.’

‘Your successor. You’re never being replaced.’ Rourke turned to her and extended a hand. ‘I’ll see you in the field some time. Captain.’

But it was not directly to the doors that he went, letting the crowd steer him towards the rambunctious table of engineers. His timing in these situations was perfect as always, allowing him to slip in next to Sadek as she headed for the bar for another drink. ‘One last meddle, Aisha,’ he hissed, catching her attention before conveying his plan.

Still, someone was waiting for him. Commander Zihan Shepherd looked like she knew she was out of place in a party-going crowd, and still had grabbed herself a drink and caught his yeoman, who was already giving Shepherd a who’s who like this was a gameshow where gossip awarded points.

‘That’ll be all, Nestari,’ Rourke said wryly, giving the young Risian a pointed look that she acted like she wasn’t picking up on as she smiled and left. He turned to Shepherd. ‘Commander, I’m Captain Rourke. Welcome aboard.’

Shepherd extended a PADD towards him and snapped off a salute as he took it. ‘Reporting as ordered, sir!’

He quirked an eyebrow. ‘At ease, Commander. This is a party.’

When Shepherd sagged with exaggerated relief and said, ‘Oh, thank God, I was really afraid you’d still want me standing on ceremony,’ he wasn’t sure what to think. ‘Still, this is nice – it’s great when a crew can be a family.’

He’d studied her service record since Jericho had notified him this young officer would be his next XO. And she was young, only thirty, with less experience than a good half of the senior staff she’d now outrank. ‘It’s a good time for you to arrive, Commander. This is the last night aboard for a lot of people here, but you can meet some of the crew, get to know people you’ll be serving with.’

‘Oh, that’s why I wanted to be here, if I’m welcome. I get it might be a bit bittersweet, considering.’

He wasn’t sure what to make of her smile. ‘For you too, I’d expect. You’ve been on the Triumph a good time.’

‘Captain Jericho’s a good man. I wanted to work with him for as long as possible.’

‘So why move now?’

Shepherd’s smile didn’t fade. ‘I’m still working with him here.’

Rourke straightened. ‘At a distance. He may be squadron commander, but this is my ship, and I expect my first officer to have this ship as their primary focus.’

‘Okay.’ She dragged the word out, sobering only a little. ‘This is the vibe, huh.’

‘The vibe –’

‘Sir, I’m your XO, and I’m sure you think I’m some sort of spy sent by the captain, or his agent, or his voice, and like… you’re not wrong.’ She gestured like she was weighing things up. ‘My primary focus is this mission, and Captain Jericho’s in charge of the mission. But your primary focus is this mission, too. ‘Cos that’s how this works.’

The worst thing, Rourke thought as he regarded the young woman, was that despite her bluster, he didn’t detect any cynicism. He had been sent, he thought, the best and most perfect agent by Lionel Jericho – not a politician here to scrutinise him and report back and enforce the squadron commander’s personal agenda. No, he’d been sent a dyed-in-the-wool loyalist, who saw no possible conflict between what Fleet Captain Jericho wanted, and what was for the best.

For the first time since speaking to Jericho, Rourke grinned. It was a wide and toothy grin, and it was one those who knew him best would see through in a heartbeat. But many hadn’t; many had seen the mask of the genial figure, the jovial and simple brute who was fun to be around and straightforward in all his dealings, and never looked any deeper.

‘You’re damn right, Commander – Shep. You prefer Shep, right?’ He swept beside her and threw an arm over her shoulder. ‘This is our mission. I just want you figuring out how to do it from this ship. I need to do a thing, but we’ll talk later, right? With a drink.’

Shepherd looked surprised but not displeased, and brightened again. ‘Hell yeah, sir.’

He’d realised their time was short because Kharth was approaching, the Romulan’s expression rather guarded at the sight of Shepherd, but she looked to Rourke. ‘Sir? It’s time.’

He nodded, but paused to gesture between them. ‘Oh – Commander Shepherd, this is Lieutenant Commander Kharth, Chief of Security and -’

‘I did my homework, I know who you are.’ Shepherd advanced for a wide slap of a handshake with a rather-surprised Kharth. ‘Read about you taking command of the whole damn Romulan defence fleet at Agarath when the leadership was taken out. That was some impressive action, Commander. Deeply cool.’

Rourke left them, but with a little more relaxation to his shoulders. Shepherd was perhaps not everything he’d feared. But she’d still be trouble enough and, worst of all, despite her personable manner and confidence, he was certain Jericho had not sent him an idiot. Rourke could play jovial and superficial and let her underestimate him while he took stock, but it wouldn’t last forever.

Some day, she’d either need to be truly his first officer, or she’d need to be truly gone. It did not bring him much comfort that he was unsure, from this conversation, which would happen or which would be better.

Still, he had a little more to do before he could think of the future. The past needed a little bit more attention. He advanced on the stage in the lounge, hopping up and lifting his hands with a simple gesture that was enough to draw the attention of everyone. ‘Crew of Endeavour! I only need five minutes. For some of you, for the last time.’

A low murmur sprung up at that, a grumble and a regret that ran through the crowd, and he knew he had to give them more than a reflection on all that was being taken from them. Rourke shook his head. ‘Give me your eyes.’

Silence fell. He knew he could command their focus, but there was a sombreness to this that was new, that he felt settle upon him like a shroud in memory of all they’d done and all they’d been together.

‘This crew saved my life,’ he started simply. ‘I don’t just mean when Commander Valance disobeyed orders to keep the ship too close to an interphasic rift so Lieutenant Thawn could beat the odds and beam me off the station collapsing into it. Or when you ran the border to rescue me from a Romulan prison camp. That’s just what we call “being in Starfleet.”’ His lips quirked with quiet affection. ‘I mean when I came to you all, I didn’t want to know you. I certainly didn’t want to care about you. I wanted to do my job and then I wanted to leave, because I’d lost too much to want to have anything more to lose. And here I am, for so many again: losing you.’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t regret it. Not just because you made me care about you all. But because of what we’ve done together, all these things we could only do because of that bond. And it’s not complicated, it’s not deep. We did our duty: we helped people. We made their lives better. For those of you staying, we’re going to keep on doing that, one world at a time – one person at a time, if that’s what it takes.

‘And for those of you leaving, those are my standing orders: make people’s lives better. Wherever you go, even if it’s just the lives of your new shipmates.’ By his knees, Sadek had slunk up to the stage and was holding up a fresh glass of champagne, which he took. ‘Anyway, that’s the future. Tonight’s about enjoying what we have. Not to mention celebrating the union of two of our own. We can do it all, so join me in a toast.’ He lifted the flute aloft. ‘To Lieutenants Thawn and Rhade. And… to the endeavour. Whatever she may be.’

The toast rippled around the crowd, the cheers came, the clapping came, and it would have warmed his heart, lifted his spirits, if his eye hadn’t been drawn to the opening lounge doors and the figure coming in.

He slugged back the champagne in the most perfunctory of manners, and sprang back to the deck as the music restarted and the dancing resumed. He landed next to Sadek, who caught his eye.

‘Meddling accomplished,’ she said with a smug look, and nodded across the lounge to where Valance and Cortez were heading to the dance floor. The air hung thick with regret, settled across them both like a mantle, but it wasn’t enough to bend them double. Not for one last night. Sadek turned back to him. ‘Do I need to spell something clearly out to you, too?’

His sigh was tinged with both sadness and amusement. ‘No,’ Rourke said. ‘You need to hold my glass.’

The crowd was thick, the Safe House almost to capacity. He’d ordered as many of the other lounges to put on music and celebrations as possible, letting teams and pockets of the ship unwind while they were so near to Starbase 86. Every deck would be home to its own farewell party today.

So he’d done his duty. Made sure his people, even those who would soon no longer be so, had what they needed. Done his work and kept up spirits and made connections. And now he fastened his dress uniform collar again, just as the crowd parted to let him through and stop before First Secretary Sophia Hale.

She was in a dress he’d seen her wear before, at one of the parties to celebrate signing a treaty back in April in this very room. It was simple but stylish, avoiding ostentation while only bolstering her understated presence, and had he seen her more recently he’d have given it more attention. Instead, his eyes fell on hers, and he drew a slow, pleased breath.

‘I told you I’d come back,’ he said, voice a low rumble it’d be hard for anyone but her to hear.

Hale smiled, and it wasn’t one of her politician’s guises, but something all the more sincere. But he knew that because he could see the sadness in her eyes as much as her pleasure at seeing him. ‘Just as I have to leave, it seems.’

‘We’ll be working closely with the Triumph. This will be a shorter separation.’

‘But the end of our team. Or how it was, anyway.’ Her brow knotted, and she inhaled sharply. ‘Matthew, you should know I objected strenuously to the diplomatic mission being relocated off Endeavour, let alone Lionel Jericho taking command -’

He raised a hand. ‘I know. You don’t need to defend yourself. It’s done, and you’ll be on the Triumph, and we’ll still keep working together. And you know what? I don’t… really feel like talking about it. Not tonight.’

‘You don’t?’

Rourke smirked. ‘Nah.’ He flipped his hand palm-up, and extended it towards her. ‘I feel like dancing.’

That stopped her short, and he saw in her eyes that same flutter of apprehension he’d seen hanging off her after Agarath, that same reticence he’d seen her show sometimes towards… life. Endeavour had saved his life, but he hadn’t managed to save hers. Not yet.

But this wasn’t life. It was one last evening. Behind him, Thawn and Rhade played the happy couple even as she orchestrated their separation, a separation he’d accept. Cortez and Valance danced, aware this was nothing but a mirage, or at least the final notes of the symphony whose end could not be stopped. And there were others he’d lose – others he knew were going, others whose orders would arrive soon enough, and nothing was going to be the same ever again. This was nothing but a moment of liminality; a pause between heartbeats, a rest at the threshold.

Sophia Hale took his hand, her quiet smile the most sincere he thought he’d seen from her. ‘Then let’s dance,’ she said, because this was the easiest of moments in which to take a leap of faith.

It would, after all, not last.