Any sluggishness of awakening faded the moment Thabo Xhakaza felt the turbolift slow. That meant he had only seconds to straighten, steel himself, and look perfectly normal the moment the doors opened and he set foot on the bridge.

At this time of the morning, alpha shift were more interested in settling into their duties than their CO’s arrival. But it still didn’t do to look nervous, and he had to fight to not flinch when Commander Octavian stood and said in her clear voice, ‘Captain on the bridge!’

Commander Xhakaza made himself smile instead of grimace. That was a skill he’d learnt a long time ago, and it always shifted him off the back foot and in control of a situation. He was used to using it when facing enemies, rivals, or irascible superiors. Then Frontier Day had happened. And at the tender age of twenty-nine, he was a starship captain.

Eyes snapped around to him, and Xhakaza waved a hand with the mask of a casual air. ‘As you were,’ he said, advancing on the pair of command chairs in the centre of the Ranger’s bridge. He’d wondered if Octavian had resented him for being younger than her, and her stoicism had not reassured. After these six weeks, he was starting to suspect it was worse: she pitied him. ‘Anything to report?’

She sat only when he did. ‘We’re continuing to monitor the solar flare’s electromagnetic pulse.’ There was a hint of frustration at the edge of her voice.

That had Xhakaza turning in the captain’s chair to his science officer. ‘Etol?’ The young Andorian’s nose was buried in his console. Xhakaza cleared his throat. ‘Etol?’

‘Ensign Vhalis.’ Octavian’s voice was like a whip-crack.

Etol Vhalis snapped upright and ran a frantic hand through his wild white hair as he realised what had happened. ‘Oh! Sorry, Captain. I was just…’

‘Report,’ said Octavian coolly.

‘The electromagnetic pulse is eighteen percent more powerful than we anticipated,’ Vhalis said, eyes eagerly swinging to Xhakaza. ‘I’ve been monitoring it all morning – I think it might grow.’

Xhakaza frowned. ‘Do we need to get more distance?’

‘Nah. We’re plenty safe, sir.’

At Tactical, Ensign Des Jeream gave a low chuckle. ‘Something goes funky on our survey and it’s still not worth breaking a sweat over. How come Endeavour gets to go over every inch of Koperion, the artificial system, and we’re out here monitoring a solar flare?’

‘Because they have more advanced and sophisticated scientific facilities,’ offered Lieutenant Sovak from helm, ‘and approximately three times as many personnel to conduct planetary survey missions.’

‘When you put it like that,’ Xhakaza mused. ‘We’ll have our moment, people. It’s imperative someone does these surveys of systems right on Gateway’s doorstep. I know it’s close to home, but we’re the first Starfleet ship to ever come here.’

‘That is inaccurate,’ said Sovak. ‘A runabout from Starbase 23 monitored this system eight years ago.’

Ensign Hali Drix, at Ops, gave Sovak a flat look. ‘You’re not helping the morale thing, sir.’

Xhakaza had lost control of the bridge’s mood, but he wasn’t sure how to recover it. So for a heartbeat, relief flooded through him when an alert went off at the Science console, and Vhalis spun in his chair to read.

‘Captain, I’m picking up a sudden massive surge in neutrinos and gravitons emanating from just outside the system.’

He’d been a pilot before he was a captain, before he was an XO. Xhakaza looked befuddled. ‘That says “wormhole” to me,’ he said, knowing that couldn’t be right. But what could?

‘Not a wormhole.’ Vhalis’s hands flew across the controls, but at the moment, he sounded more like he knew what it wasn’t than what it was. ‘It’s come out of nowhere, and this – I’m now picking up neutrinos on the long-range sensors…’

Octavian sat forward, looking like she was going to insist he stopped babbling and gave a straight answer, but Xhakaza caught her eye and shook his head. If talking his way through this was what Vhalis needed to get to the answers, then he’d be given that space.

Moments later, the young Andorian’s tone dropped. And when he said, ‘It’s not a wormhole,’ again, this time, he sounded like he did know what it was. ‘It’s just exceptionally like one.’

‘Ensign.’ This time, Octavian did press him.

His eyes snapped up to the command chairs. ‘With these triquantum waves and subspace disruptions,’ he said, voice going hollow, ‘I believe this is a transwarp signature.’

Silence rumbled across the Ranger’s bridge. At length, Commander Xhakaza found his voice. ‘Transwarp,’ he echoed. ‘As in, Borg.’

‘Yes,’ said Vhalis, but he pressed on quickly. ‘Only, it’s not right. This isn’t an aperture. This is a, a rift into transwarp space. A breach. Captain, I think a transwarp conduit has collapsed while something was travelling through it.’

Sovak tilted his head. ‘The gravimetric shear would rip any ship apart.’

‘And scatter it across light-years,’ Octavian breathed.

‘Any normal ship,’ Xhakaza said darkly, and stood. A heartbeat later, a bleep came from Ensign Jeream’s post at Tactical, and he knew the sound. That was his sensors registering a contact. Xhakaza turned and knew the answer by the look on the young man’s face. ‘Ensign?’

‘I’m picking up a Borg signature point-two of a light-year out, in deep space,’ Ensign Jeream confirmed in a low voice.

Ensign Drix looked towards helm again. ‘I really hope you’re right about that shear, sir,’ she told Sovak.

‘I think he is,’ Vhalis said as he ran his own scans. ‘This object is way too small to be even a probe. I’m not picking up any power signatures. This isn’t a Borg ship. This is part of one.’

Octavian got to her feet and stood next to Xhakaza so she could drop her voice as she asked, ‘If a transwarp conduit has collapsed, destroying a Borg ship and depositing some of the wreckage in front of us,’ she breathed, ‘then where’s the rest of it?’

Xhakaza’s chest was tight. ‘Really good question,’ he acknowledged at a normal volume, then turned to Ops. ‘Hali? Get us a line to Gateway Station. And everyone else?’ The air crackled with tension and terror. Mere weeks ago, they had come face to face with Borg. Most of them had been Borg, been his crew, who’d killed their old captain and been elevated to their own ship because of the dead men’s boots they’d emptied. This was a tipping point. It would be easy, so easy, to fall into panic. Doubt. Distrust.

He drew a deep breath. ‘This isn’t like last time. We’re all still here. I trust all of you. And if you don’t trust yourselves? Look around you. Trust each other. We’re the ones who know about this. We’re the ones who can send the warning. And that means we jump on this before anything else happens. Right?’

The nods were a little meek, a little cowed. But then Octavian said, ‘Aye, Captain,’ in that clear tone, and while her voice echoed a little too much in the quiet bridge when it hit the young officers, they stood a little straighter. They could stand fast. Once again.

And Xhakaza hoped the future wouldn’t make a liar of him for saying this wasn’t like last time.

‘Beneath a sky of pixelated stars,

We dance through constellations from afar…’

The refuelling station hung so low in the Petrion-7HG VII’s orbit that the morning sun had to break through the gas giant’s atmosphere before it flooded through the viewport. Cascading through the gases, it rendered them bronze and gold instead of the murky mud of night, and Thawn had to tilt her screen away so she could read her work through the glare. She could have brought the blind down, but she didn’t want to block the sun out from the grimy processing control room that had been her effective office the last few days. Thudding, pulsing, cheerful music had helped her through the dark, but now, at last, it was joined by sunlight.

‘Point two percent,’ she muttered as she read the findings. Then she shrugged. ‘We can do better.’ She reached for a button on the controls, turning her music down before she hit the comms. ‘Thawn to Jerevok. Are you seeing what I’m seeing?’

‘You forget we don’t have Starfleet-level networking in here, don’t you,’ came the Romulan man’s immediate, dry response. ‘I’ll see your readings in about ten minutes.’

‘That’s an exaggeration,’ Thawn blustered. ‘Anyway, I think that I was right -’

‘I’m astonished.’

‘And,’ she pressed on, cheeks flushing, ‘if we reinforce the secondary power coils on section 17, we can raise the intake flow by a few percent.’

‘You mean if I crawl down there and replace each panel by hand.’

Thawn blinked. ‘I’ll do it,’ she said, already reaching for the jacket on the back of her chair. ‘I’ll need to head down to the Starfall and replicate the parts -’

‘No, no, you need the exact measurements first. Besides, I want you to owe me so you replicate me more blue leaf tea.’

She bit her lip. ‘I think I owe you already for fixing that wave surfer on Armitor last week…’

‘That was pleasure. This is business. Besides, the work teams couldn’t see you flapping in the surf that pathetically and still listen to you, and I want you to leave me with a lot of blue leaf when you move on, anyway.’

Thawn gave a light laugh. ‘You have a deal. Check-in in thirty.’ She turned her music back up.

‘Stardust serenade, our hearts aglow,

In the cyber-void, our love will grow…’

After fifteen minutes, a shadow swung across the viewport to block out the sun, but Thawn ignored it, and it passed. Ships of the Khalagu came and went at Petrion all the time. It was their primary refuelling depot in the whole of the Synnef Nebula, and however far the itinerant fleet wandered, or individual ships went about their business, sooner or later, they all came back here.

It had been the runabout’s first stop at their expedition’s start five weeks ago. It was the best place to catch up with the main Khalagu fleet, and while Beckett had charmed locals who didn’t want to be charmed, Thawn’s mind had already turned to how to run this operation more efficiently. Initially, the Khalagu had been more prepared to listen to Beckett’s mouth than let her touch their equipment. They’d kept the first week or so of the trip to what now felt like a diplomatic veneer, letting their runabout fly alongside the main fleet and hold ship tours to meet captains and crews before stopping off at one of the Khalagu’s surface ports on Namalbu, with its endless beaches and nebula-stained skies.

‘Why don’t you just stay here?’ Beckett had asked Narien as they contrasted white sand underfoot with drinks that tasted like they’d come from an engine sill. ‘It’s beautiful.’

Narien had looked from the beach-front structures – harsh, metal blocks built from fallen ships and scrounged metal – to the gentle waves and bowing purple trees, then up to the twin suns in the rippling skies. ‘If we stay in one place, they know where to find us.’

Neither of them asked who they were. The Khalagu were the unwanted dregs of Romulan society that-was, squatting on the border of the Republic and the Federation, wedged into the corners of space where the rejected vied for room or influence. Namalbu might be like a paradise, but it made them a target if it was anything other than a small resupply hub.

Thawn had been bored out of her mind by then, forbidden from working, from being useful when she could see a hundred ways to get her hands dirty. She’d slipped off to the communications control bunker on Namalbu’s surface and been halfway through studying how they masked their comms when Jerevok had found her. He couldn’t so much as begin a challenge or chastisement before she’d made three recommendations on how they could better mask their presence.

Beckett had been incensed when he’d found out. She’d put the whole expedition in jeopardy, he’d insisted. Had she been found by a different engineer to Jerevok, who it turned out had been exiled for his Reunification sympathies, Beckett might have been right. As it was, she’d been able to tilt her nose up and point out that they were no use being paraded through Khalagu space like strange royalty. They were there to make connections. This was how she made connections.

‘By pissing people off until they give in and let you have your own way?’ he’d retorted.

But now she could give a smug smile and say, ‘It worked on you,’ and rather than enter a fresh wave of endless argument, he kissed her to shut her up.

More importantly, Jerevok had all but press-ganged her into the Khalagu fleet’s engineering team, and by the end of week two, she’d made more progress ingratiating them with their host through her work than she suspected Beckett could have charmed in two months. On this return trip to Petrion, she’d been intent on making the most of it.

‘Through digital galaxies, we’ll navigate,

In this stardust serenade, we celebrate…’

‘What the hell is this racket?’

She hadn’t realised how high she’d turned the volume until she caught Beckett straining to be heard over it, the thudding bass masking his entrance to the room. She cut the music and turned, but refused to let any shame show as she looked him dead in the eye. ‘Tinker Starling. Stardust Serenade.’

‘You were listening to Baccharali yesterday,’ Beckett whined. They’d both given up on uniforms early on, dressed in rough-and-ready civilian garb. The Khalagu didn’t keep their ships especially warm, so he’d started to live in his leather jacket a little more than she liked. ‘How can one woman’s taste go from fine art to fine trash so fast?’

‘I like Speedwave in the morning,’ she said airily, tilting her nose. But he didn’t look like he was squaring up for them to argue about music choice, and there was a case under his arm. ‘What’s that? What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know,’ he admitted, and advanced to put the case down on the central control table. ‘Narien just came in from Sot Thryfar. Said he’d picked something up he wanted us to see.

‘Us? This isn’t you two geeking out about more old Romulan archival pieces he’s picked up?’

Beckett shook his head. ‘He said he hasn’t opened it, that a friend double-checked he has “Starfleet contacts” and asked him to get it to them.’ He ran his fingers over the case, checking the seal conditions, checking the latch. It looked to Thawn’s eyes like an unremarkable containment case, sturdy to protect anything inside and locked solid to fend off light fingers, but nothing special.

She smacked his hand away as his fingers touched the latch and pulled out her tricorder. ‘One step at a time.’ But after a moment, she shook her head. ‘I’m just picking up a tritanium alloy over a layer of duranium composite, and I think there are micro-tritanium shells on the interior – without power signatures, this could be anything.’

‘I appreciate you making sure I don’t get my fingers blown off,’ Beckett said amiably, and popped the lid.

That was the difference, came Thawn’s thoughts, hollow and echoing and as if they had completely detached from her body the moment the lid was raised, between scans and eyes. Scans could tell her there was some device inside, tell her the exact thickness of the tritanium housing and duranium layer, give her details she couldn’t possibly identify for herself.

For herself, she could see the jagged shape of the device itself. The deep black of the housing. The dull green sheen of the circuitry running across it. For herself, she could recognise the impossible.

Beckett’s breath caught with a hint of a soft, strangled sound. ‘Is that what I think it is?’

Thawn stared for another moment. Then she reached to slam the case shut. ‘We’ve got to go.’

‘Go…’ He was still stunned, reeling.

‘Back to Endeavour. To Gateway.’ She turned and lifted a hand to his cheek. You’re not there. It’s not Frontier Day. Come here. Come back to me.

Whether her touch was enough or if, in her roiling fear, she’d reached out more with her mind than she’d intended, he blinked, and the clouds over his eyes faded. Beckett straightened. ‘You’re right. Shit. They’ve got to know. Because least bad case scenario…’

‘Least bad case scenario,’ said Thawn with a levelness she didn’t feel, ‘is that someone’s shipping Borg tech through Sot Thryfar.’

And neither of them wanted to voice the worst-case scenario.

‘I’m bored.’

Kharth didn’t even look up from the field station console’s display as she chucked a PADD at the speaker. ‘Keep that up, and I’ll have you reassigned again, Shep.’

Cackling, Shepherd picked up the errant PADD from the dirt but stayed bent over to mime a bow. ‘Yes, almighty XO. Your wish is my command.’

Kharth’s eyes snapped up. ‘You promised this wouldn’t be weird.’

‘I promised it wouldn’t be awkward,’ Shepherd pointed out, finally wandering over. ‘If I’d said weird, you should have called me a liar. Besides, you know better than to leave me unoccupied. That’s just bad personnel management.’

Kharth snatched the PADD off her and looked back at the field station console without another word. She’d been as surprised as anyone when the news came from Commodore Rourke of transfers to Endeavour. Losing T’Varel was to be expected; the veteran Vulcan was more valuable in a myriad of places than one engine room in the wake of Frontier Day. Her successor, the amiable Lieutenant Commander Perrek, seemed to be settling in well. But when Valance said Zihan Shepherd was transferring back aboard, Kharth had assumed she was about to lose the post of XO. That had come with mixed feelings; Shepherd was a more proven hand in command and outranked her, even if Kharth had been in service longer. She’d never had ambitions to move into red, but she’d barely made the shift, and losing it so soon would be a blow.

Then Valance had said Shepherd would be coming in as senior officer of the watch, essentially third in command, there to focus on shipboard and bridge operations while freeing up Kharth to focus on personnel management and mission ops. It was effectively a demotion for Shepherd, once Endeavour’s XO, trusted on Gateway Station to command the USS Tempest.

When she’d boarded, Shepherd’s explanation had been a shrug and the simple statement of, ‘I wanted something to do.’ At Kharth’s suspicious expression, she’d sighed. ‘With the Swiftsure, Ranger, and Redemption about now, I don’t go more than five light-years from the station. And even then, it’s to survey a quasar or pick up after Dyke Logistics or escort some crappy shipment from Alfheim. I’m bored, K.’

It was a little more complex than that. Shepherd wasn’t just a new senior officer; she was effectively the final third of a command triangle. Kharth and Valance had discussed their shortcomings openly and frankly, and what they lacked, Shepherd had in spades. With her, they finally had that ‘people person.’ And, either to soften the blow to Shepherd’s prestige or as a genuine demonstration of how far that relationship had come, Rourke had padded her billet, supplementing her responsibilities to Endeavour with more on a strategic level for the squadron in the field.

That all put Shepherd in the position of joining teams in the field now Endeavour was three weeks into surveying the Koperion system. Discovered early in the squadron’s arrival at the sector, all they knew for sure was that the system had been artificially cultivated.

‘I truly think it’s a garden world,’ Doctor Winters said as he padded up the slope with Commander Airex to interrupt their command-level bickering. They had been working their way through the planets of Koperion, sending survey teams to the surfaces, and Airex had identified this one, Koperion VI, as one of – apparently – the most interestingly diverse. Although neither Kharth nor Shep were experts in planetary science, they’d taken this chance to stretch their legs, which Kharth had thought would include more fieldwork for her, and Shepherd had plainly thought might include a comfy chair in the sun.

They’d set up the field station on a rise with what Kharth thought was a rather heart-stopping view of tall evergreens stretching as far as the eye could see. Shepherd had just sniffed and said, ‘Why do so many planets look like Canada?’ and refused to explain further.

‘I don’t know what a “garden world” is, Doctor,’ Kharth told Winters as he returned. The CMO was an expert in xeno-medicine and was ostensibly there to help with the wildlife surveys, but Kharth suspected he was just another rubber-necker wanting to get his boots on the ground.

‘It’s a concept we’re developing,’ Airex offered, and caught the water bottle Shepherd tossed him from the coolbox by the console. ‘As the planets are this old, are teeming with this much life, and haven’t shown any indication of intelligent life evolving, they seem… cultivated.’ He shrugged. ‘That and the wandering comets picking up botanical samples from planets with comparable biomes.’

‘Any update on that?’ Shepherd asked eagerly. They hadn’t picked the location of this fieldsite at random. Endeavour had tracked a comet to the system only for it to shatter itself into parts that had landed on the worlds of Koperion. The one on Koperion VI had come down not far from here.

‘It’s like the others,’ Airex said with a grimace. ‘The comet continued to break up in the atmosphere. The chunk we’ve found in the valley is less than fifty centimetres in diameter. But I am extremely unhappy with the idea of approaching it. I don’t know what a physical disturbance might do to this process.’

‘But,’ Winters pressed on, ‘we did find a flower that isn’t native to this planet.’

Kharth wanted to be interested. But her scientific education meant she’d grasped the general concept of comets hoovering up samples from all manner of other planets so they could thrive in this system and struggled to be impressed by the micro-level botanical implications. And as XO, she had to be a little bit more encouraging than she wanted to be.

In the end, she managed to say, ‘Cool.’

‘We’re keeping to scans, not samples,’ Airex said rather drily, plainly picking up on her tone. ‘There’s also some tracks suggesting small animal life; I’m hoping we spot some.’

‘There isn’t, I assume,’ Kharth ventured, ‘any further clues about who did all of this?’

‘Oh,’ said Winters, like he’d forgotten that was an objective. ‘No.’

The only reason Kharth didn’t roll her eyes was the comm panel on the console going off. ‘Endeavour to away team. The captain wants you back aboard on the double.’

Kharth frowned. Ensign Kally didn’t normally sound so urgent. ‘We’re good to beam back, Endeavour. What’s going on?’

A moment later, Valance’s voice came on instead. ‘Endeavour’s being recalled.’ There was another pause, then, ‘The Ranger’s discovered wreckage of a Borg ship.’

There were no more questions, no more hesitation. Orders were given to the rest of the survey teams wandering the wilderness, and in less than a minute, they were in Endeavour’s transporter room. Winters returned to Sickbay, and Airex headed to stow his gear in the science labs, but Kharth and Shepherd made a bee-line for a turbolift for the bridge.

‘This can’t be a coincidence,’ Kharth muttered. ‘It’s been, what, six weeks? Seven? Frontier Day must have just been the start.’

‘We don’t know anything yet, K,’ Shepherd reminded her. ‘And this is wreckage. Picard’s reports say the Borg were all fucked up at Jupiter. Maybe this is some of that.’

Kharth forced her breathing to slow, tapping her foot as she waited for the turbolift to arrive. ‘You’re right,’ she said begrudgingly. The XO should be thinking like this. Not be the one who needs to be levelled out. That, at least, helped her think more clearly. ‘Whatever Valance knows, the crew’s going to have a difficult time with this. We’ll have to step up.’

‘Right,’ Shepherd said as they stepped into the turbolift. ‘Frontier Day hit a lot of them real hard.’ She audibly hesitated. ‘We should talk to Logan.’

Kharth gritted her teeth. Jack Logan had been invaluable in guiding the young officers who’d been assimilated on Frontier Day through the traumatic aftermath. ‘He’ll have his finger on the pulse, yes.’

‘Is today the day I get told what’s going on with you two?’

‘No,’ Kharth said firmly. ‘But I’ll talk to him. Because if the Borg are rumbling again, he’s going to be having a hard time, too.’

Shepherd blew out her cheeks. ‘Didn’t think of that.’

For a moment, Kharth wondered if Shepherd was patronising her. Then the turbolift slowed to admit them to the bridge, and her burgeoning insecurities about her friend’s return stopped being her most pressing issue. She bounded through the doors into the buzzing activity of Endeavour’s beating heart. ‘What do we have?’

Valance was on her feet but gave them only an acknowledging nod before she turned to the fore. ‘Away teams are all back aboard? Shuttles docked?’

‘Aye, Captain,’ confirmed Athaka at Ops.

‘Set a course for the Lockney system, Lindgren,’ Valance instructed coolly. ‘Maximum warp.’

‘Lockney?’ Kharth headed for the command chairs as Shepherd took her post at the rear left of the bridge. ‘That’s not where the Ranger is monitoring.’

‘It’s not,’ said Valance, turning away from the fore as Endeavour sped up for their escape from the gravitic pull of the Koperion system so they could jump to warp. ‘The Ranger picked up what we now believe was the collapse of a transwarp conduit. A Borg Cube was inside it. We don’t know what happened first – a systems failure on the Cube causing the conduit’s collapse or the conduit’s collapse impacting the Cube. But the transwarp conduit collapsed across light-years, destroying the Cube.’

‘Lockney is where the wreckage ended up?’ Kharth said.

‘Lockney is where the highest percentage of wreckage we’ve detected so far has ended up.’ Logan’s voice was clipped, more taut than she thought she’d ever heard him – even when the Borg had taken Endeavour’s bridge. ‘The Ranger spotted wreckage, too. Reports are coming in of other sightings of remains.’

Kharth’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘A Borg Cube has been destroyed and its wreckage strewn across the sector?’

‘And Cubes are resilient,’ Logan said. ‘They need a very small percentage of systems to remain at least partially operational. So there could be active drones on wreckage containing all manner of active systems.’

‘Commodore Rourke’s heading to Lockney on the Redemption,’ Valance said. ‘That’s where we’ll take stock. More bad news: Thawn and Beckett are coming back.’

There was half-a-heartbeat’s pause at this shift in tone, then Shepherd deadpanned, ‘I always hated them.’

‘I mean,’ Valance pressed on, visibly unimpressed by the glibness, ‘they’ve reported picking something up that was being sold at Sot Thryfar. Borg technology. Not from this Cube. They’ll be joining us at Lockney.’

Another silence, blunted only by the hum of the engines as Endeavour escaped the Koperion system. As if unabashed by Valance’s chiding, it was again Shepherd who piped up. ‘When we see them,’ she said, ‘someone should point out most people just bring back some tourist-y crap from vacation.’

They dropped out of warp to find a graveyard. Shattered emerald and obsidian littered the viewscreen, but Endeavour’s sensors warned the wreckage of the Borg Cube stretched further than the eye could see.

‘Scans suggest about thirty percent of the Cube exited transwarp here,’ Airex summarised after a moment.

‘At least it isn’t all in one piece,’ said Shepherd.

Valance was on her feet and looked back at Airex. ‘Power signatures?’

‘Some,’ he said, and gave an apologetic shrug. ‘Nothing very powerful, nothing moving. I confess I’m not an expert in Borg operations.’

‘What matters are the drones,’ said Logan. He sat facing the viewscreen, but one hand rested at the rim of the tactical controls. His face was stony. ‘The good news is that the hull breaking up will have killed most of them. But if any of the destroyed sections didn’t lose containment or have power for emergency forcefields, those drones will be trying to restore operations. How bad that is depends on what systems they’ve got to hand.’

Valance nodded. ‘Life-signs, Airex?’

‘You won’t get anything reliable,’ Logan butted in. ‘Our sensors often don’t pick up drones. Anything they do pick up might be from nothing – an artificial heart still pumping in an incapacitated drone will register as a life sign on our sensors.’

Kharth leaned towards her. ‘Redemption’s been over this,’ she reminded.

Valance’s lips twisted. ‘Of course.’ Her eyes fell to the sensor reading of the Sovereign-class, still and poised and ready for action, crouched before the main body of the wreckage in the centre of the system. ‘Signal the Redemption, Kally.’

‘You got it, Captain!’ Kally’s voice sounded a little too chirpy. Everyone dealt with the looming Borg in their own way. A moment later, she looked back up. ‘Commodore Rourke is asking to come aboard to brief senior staff.’

Valance was not surprised to see the transporters log four people coming over from the Redemption. Beckett and Thawn had rendezvoused at Lockney, after all, and so when they trooped into the conference room behind Rourke, not even back in uniform yet, she nodded a polite greeting. But it was not Captain Daragon of the Redemption who took up the rear, nor was it Commander Harrian, strategic operations officer for the squadron. It was Isa Cortez, who gave a sheepish wave of greeting to her old crew and managed the impressive feat of not quite looking at Valance without appearing to blank her.

‘I brought wayward strays,’ Rourke said by way of greeting, though he had the good grace to look apologetic about Cortez as he approached Valance. He still gestured to Beckett and Thawn. ‘The Borg interrupted their holiday.’

‘Our important political and anthropological undertaking!’ Beckett protested. He, too, sounded a little strained, a little forced in his ebullience.

‘It shows our success,’ Thawn cut in, ‘that the Khalagu came across something this dangerous and entrusted it to Starfleet. They want us to deal with the situation.’

‘It’s the Borg,’ Kharth said bluntly. ‘Norms go out the window.’ Valance cast her a sharp look, and she worked her jaw. ‘I mean, good work. Welcome back.’

‘On that warming note,’ sighed Rourke, ushering everyone to seats, ‘let me bring you up to speed.’ It felt, just for a moment, like old times. Valance realised they hadn’t all been in a room together like this in half a year, scattered to the four winds and brought back together under only the most extreme of circumstances. The bittersweet taste of that thought still brought strength. This was a team that had faced worse, surely, and emerged victorious.

The squadron leader advanced to the main display and brought the operational map of the Midgard Sector up. ‘Approximately forty-eight hours ago, the USS Ranger picked up a transwarp signature at the Zephral system. As you know, it turned out to be a transwarp conduit in the process of collapse. A Borg Cube has been destroyed, but the nature of the conduit’s collapse has strewn its wreckage across the sector. Lockney appears to be where the conduit collapsed completely, and where the largest mass of the destroyed Cube exited transwarp, but as you can see, this gives us a stretch tens of light-years long for all manner of debris to have been ejected.’ He swept a hand from the top of the map, showing the rimward trajectory of the collapsing conduit.

Cortez leaned forward, any bashfulness fading in the face of business. ‘I’ve brought my SCE Unit up along with the Redemption for our initial assessment of the wreck. So far, I think this Cube’s lost too many vital systems to be a danger. We’ve not come across a single active drone, and we’re in the process of securing and disabling power signatures. But that’ll need to happen…’ She gave a vague gesture. ‘Everywhere. Everywhere there’s tech.’

Valance looked from her to Rourke. ‘Endeavour’s ready to locate, disable, and retrieve the remains of the Cube, sir.’

But he shook his head. ‘That’s not your job. That’s Swiftsure’s job, with the Tempest running backup. Ranger is holding fast at Zephral; we want a full analysis of the initial point of the conduit’s collapse.’

‘We’re still not sure why this has happened, after all,’ said Cortez. ‘We don’t know if the Cube malfunctioned or the conduit collapsed first. What we’ve recovered of their computer records isn’t giving us that. But they did give us something.’ She hopped to her feet now, going to take over the screen. ‘This Cube was on a Priority 004 mission.’

Logan barely moved, but Valance thought she saw the xB pale. ‘Zero-zero-four. That’s a critical operation. Barely shy of Collective-wide emergencies.’ He frowned at Cortez. ‘How did you get that out of the computer core so quick? Starfleet doesn’t have those decryption protocols.’

‘Enter the wayward wanderers,’ Beckett said, leaning forward. ‘Because we picked up a thing.’

Thawn rolled her eyes. ‘We picked up what appears to be a Borg Assimilation Interface Probe. Our records say it’s designed so the Borg can directly interface with alien computer systems, facilitating intelligence gathering and assimilation. But that means it’s also designed to interface with Borg systems. We’ve been using it to access the Cube’s computer records.’

‘Only, the records are damaged and incomplete,’ sighed Cortez. ‘On account of that whole “blowing up” thing.’

‘Which means,’ Rourke said, in that tone which made it clear he was taking the briefing over again, ‘we know this Cube was on a critical mission, but we don’t know what that mission was or where it was going. Which is where Endeavour comes in. Cubes have extensive system redundancies. Swiftsure and Tempest will be hoovering up Borg wreckage closer to the border, which is where the bulk of it appears to be by initial scans. If they find anything which appears to have sections of the primary or secondary computer systems, they’ll flag it up. But some of it’s going to be further afield. Take the AIP with you. Hunt down remains of this Cube. And find out what it was up to.’

‘We’re using the AIP.’ Logan’s voice was tight.

‘I’ve figured out how it works, sir,’ Thawn assured him a little primly.

‘And I’ve used it,’ Cortez added.

‘Using it once is one thing. Making it our mission?’ Logan shifted to look at Valance and Rourke. ‘Sirs, I gotta advise against that. We connect it once to their systems, sure, maybe it pulls info for us. More than that? If the AIP is usable, it’s Borg tech. It adapts.’

‘It pulls information,’ said Cortez, leaning forward. Valance thought she caught a flicker of irritation that Logan was addressing the two non-engineer command officers instead of her, the expert. ‘I’m monitoring it the whole time it’s active and can shut it down the moment it does anything other than extract data and run the decryption programme – that’s all it’s designed to do -’

‘Apologies, Commander, but I don’t need you to explain Borg technology to me -’

Neither of them were snapping, exactly, but Valance raised a hand as the air shifted between them. ‘I know Commander Perrek and Lieutenant Thawn will only use this equipment with the utmost caution. We’re not going to be rash about it.’

Cortez cleared her throat, finally a little awkward. ‘Actually, Captain, Commodore Rourke asked me to ride shotgun on this mission with my team,’ she said, and glanced across to her successor, Commander Perrek. ‘No offence, Commander, but you’ve not got the experience with Borg technology. My old team at San Fran helped develop some of the systems that ended up in the Sagan-class.’

Perrek, of course, merely raised his hands in an amiable fashion. ‘No offence taken. Happy to have another expert on the team. You can come tell me how I’ve messed up your old engine room any time.’

Valance found Rourke catch her eye and was just grateful he didn’t openly ask if this was a problem. She, of course, gave the slightest of nods. ‘Of course, Commander, we’ll give you everything you need,’ she told Cortez a little tonelessly. ‘Make use of Endeavour’s facilities and crew.’

Cortez gave a measured smile. ‘Thank you, Captain. I’ve already borrowed a lot of Thawn’s brain, as per usual. I’ll be happy for your team’s help – Airex, you know I can always use your thoughts. Commander Logan, I’d like to work with you, too.’

Logan had been stiff since the exchange and only gave a terse nod. ‘Of course.’

Valance looked to Beckett and Thawn. ‘I assume this is your expedition over? Welcome back.’

Rourke straightened his jacket. ‘If that’s all, I’ll head back to the Redemption. This is going to be our field command post for this operation, and Redemption will take care of the wreckage here.’ He blew out his cheeks. ‘A chunk of something landed on the fourth planet. There’s a pre-warp civilisation there. Captain Daragon and his crew are having a time.’

‘I don’t miss those days,’ mused Beckett.

Rourke looked them all over. ‘I’m trusting Endeavour with this because you’re my eyes and ears in the deepest part of the sector. We don’t just need to know what this Cube was up to – we can’t leave Borg technology out there. At best, it’s disabled and it falls into the wrong hands. At worst… you know the drill.’ He shook his head. ‘Good hunting.’

Cortez looked to the staff as Rourke left. ‘Redemption will go over the debris in the system with a fine tooth-comb, but there’s one signal in one of the secondary debris fields I’d like us to check out.’

‘We’ll start there.’ Valance stood. ‘Commander Kharth, help the SCE Unit get settled aboard and then facilitate that investigation. Commander Shepherd, monitor the squadron-wide reports for sign of our next heading. Dismissed, everyone – Beckett, Thawn, stay behind.’

The two young officers looked a little anxious as everyone bustled out, and Valance knew she was making them worry more than she intended by keeping intense eye contact with them so she didn’t have to look at Cortez leave.

Thawn squirmed in her seat. ‘Sorry we’re out of uniform, Captain -’

‘It’s fine. You’re ready to return to bridge duty, Lieutenant?’ At Thawn’s nod, Valance straightened. ‘Good. Commander Shepherd is now SOTW; she oversees bridge departments. Report back to duty ASAP. Dismissed.’

The glance Thawn exchanged with Beckett told her volumes, and the young man looked even more uncomfortable as she left the two of them alone.

Valance raised her eyebrows. ‘Relax. I said we’d talk about your future once you were back.’

He winced. ‘This isn’t what anyone had in mind.’

‘No. But it makes this easier. Because it solidifies what I need from you.’ Valance leaned forward. ‘I’m making you Chief Intelligence Officer. Permanently.’

Beckett’s jaw dropped. ‘You really can’t find a more experienced analyst than me?’

‘The short answer? No, not after Frontier Day. Everyone died, Beckett. Young officers have to step up everywhere. The long answer is that you’re selling yourself short. You have exactly the skillset to do what I’m going to desperately need these next few weeks: finding and analysing a vast range of information from across the sector and the squadron to figure out what this crew needs to know to do their job.’

‘I don’t -’

‘You can take it,’ said Valance more coolly, ‘or you can report to Commodore Rourke for reassignment. I’m not having you sitting on my ship kicking yourself.’

Beckett swallowed. Then he said, ‘I have one condition.’

Valance’s eyebrows hit her hairline. Her voice dropped to levels that would make an Andorian shiver. ‘Go on.’

But he only gave a sunny smile in response. ‘I get to be one of those Intel officers who wears red, not gold. Gold washes out my complexion.’

Valance sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘Lieutenant?’

‘Yes, Captain?’

‘Get out.’

Airex caught Thawn on the way out of the conference room. ‘Lieutenant. Once you’ve settled in, I’d appreciate your thoughts on some sensor calibrations I’ve been working on so we can pick up any additional homing signals unrelated to our lost Cube.’

‘I…’ Thawn’s gaze flickered to the doors closing behind her. But there was nothing she could do about what was going on in there, and Airex’s words – and the work they brought with them – dragged her back to the present. ‘Of course, sir. I should probably get back into uniform, though.’

He looked apologetic. ‘Of course. I shouldn’t expect you to switch settings so quickly.’ He nodded and straightened. ‘Report to Astrometrics in two hours?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And Lieutenant?’

‘Sir?’ She’d turned to go but paused as Airex continued.

His smile softened. ‘It’s good to have you back.’

She had always liked and respected Airex, feelings made all the harder for how difficult he was to please, for how rarely he’d given praise in their years of working together. But neither of them were who they had been when they’d met, and words which would have once made her day now merely cheered her up a little. He gave such assurances more freely, and she needed them less. It felt more like a fresh brick in the wall of her self-esteem, contributing but not foundational, rather than the sort of words she’d have once lived and died on.

But she could have stood for a few more of them when she turned to see Logan ushering her to his post at Tactical. Awkward, she headed over.

‘You’ve been using the AIP, Lieutenant?’

She again glanced to the closed conference room doors as her chest tightened, both apprehensive of what Valance wanted with Beckett and what the security chief, so tense in the meeting, wanted with her. ‘Oh, uh – yes, sir.’

But Logan softened as she arrived, catching her glance. He gave an apologetic smile. ‘Forgetting my manners. How was the expedition? Hoping you cutting it short ain’t too bad of a setback.’

She relaxed an iota but still grimaced. ‘The Khalagu don’t want anything Borg near them. It shows trust they brought the AIP to us so we could handle it. But I believe we were making serious progress in our relationship with them. For what good that does.’

‘It matters,’ said Logan. ‘Once this is over, we still gotta make good on our commitment to the Midgard Sector.’

‘If there is a Midgard Sector.’ At his raised eyebrow, she frowned. ‘Sir, you’ve seen the reports. Borg sightings. Homing beacons. What do we do if the Collective comes looking for the remains of their missing Cube?’

‘Honestly? Let ‘em have it and be grateful if they let us stay out of their way. Which brings me to that thing. The AIP. You’ve been handling it so far?’

‘With Commander Cortez. She really is excellent, sir; I’ve never known her to be rash. The device is in good hands.’

‘You got me all wrong,’ Logan said, sighing. ‘I’ve no doubts about Cortez. Or you. I just don’t think good hands for this kind of equipment exist. But if you’ve gotta use it, you can’t get complacent. There are things we can look out for.’

Behind her, the conference room doors slid open again, and a rather dazed Beckett staggered out. She bit her lip and looked at Airex. ‘I appreciate your warning, sir. We’ll take every precaution.’

His eyes flickered from her to Beckett, and his jaw tightened an iota. ‘This could go real wrong, real fast, Lieutenant. But you’ve had a long day. I’ll let you rest.’

Beckett hadn’t waited, and she had to stick her hand in to block the turbolift doors from closing so she could step in and join him. ‘What happened?’ Thawn pressed. ‘What did she say?’ He looked shell-shocked, running on automatic, so she hit the button for the lift to take them to Deck 2.

‘Uh.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘She wants me to head up Intel.’

An apprehensive flutter hit her chest. ‘And when this crisis is over? Did she say she has a position for you or is that something you’ll talk about later?’

‘We won’t talk about it later.’ At last, he blinked. ‘This isn’t temporary, like in the Delta Quadrant. She wants me to be Chief Intelligence Officer. Permanently.’

‘Great Fire. That’s wonderful!’ She clutched his arm. ‘Isn’t it?’

‘It is! It’s just…’ He winced. ‘It’s silly.’

‘This is Valance. Valance. She didn’t give you the job because of your father. You know that’s not how she works.’

The turbolift slowed. Beckett at last softened to give a crooked smile. ‘You’re right,’ he said, and she could see he was quietly grateful for how she’d cut to the heart of what was bothering him without him needing to voice it. ‘Thank you.’

They stepped onto Deck 2, then both stopped. Thawn looked up and down the corridor. ‘Oh,’ she said at length.

He frowned and straightened. ‘Yeah. Uh. My luggage was beamed to my quarters.’

‘My bag was beamed to mine.’ She hadn’t packed anything for her trip. The Starfall’s replicators had seen to her needs. ‘But I need a fresh uniform.’

‘I need a new uniform. And to get down to SOC.’

‘And I have to be in Astrometrics.’ But they had been together for nearly six weeks, living on top of each other in the Orion-class runabout. If they weren’t there, they were in and among the Khalagu, never apart for very long. The work had been hard and sometimes isolating, but they had also found a quiet pocket of the universe untouched by outsiders and been welcomed to its secrets, beauty, and people. Together.

Now, cold reality was slipping back, and it brought more than the Borg. It brought schedules, duty, uniforms, structure. Working apart. Separate rooms. Everything she’d left behind, they’d left behind, and they hadn’t talked about what came next. They’d thought they’d had more time.

Thawn bit her lip. ‘I suppose I’ll… see you later?’

His expression shifted. ‘You’re going to work stupid late, aren’t you. Especially if Cortez takes the AIP over for another extraction tomorrow.’

‘I… probably.’

‘And I’ve got a galaxy’s worth of information to consolidate. And I think I play nice with Shepherd now? So adjusting won’t be quick.’

‘No.’ She adjusted her feet. ‘Maybe we get… lunch.’

He frowned. ‘Lunch?’

‘Tomorrow. When the mission’s done and we’re settled in.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I… lunch. Sure.’

Her smile was tight. ‘I’ll see you then.’

They turned, and she felt the kaleidoscopic glow of the Synnef Nebula finally fade away, its purples and golds and mystery disappearing for the cold starkness of Endeavour’s decks, the sharp edges of all her looming duties, and the shadows of what waited deeper into the sector. It was those shadows that made her hesitate some twenty feet away. Pause. And turn.

‘Nate?’

He whirled with a flicker of apprehension and hope, and it was that latter that had her moving. She raced the distance between them, grabbing his stupid leather jacket by the collar to pull him down for a quick, greedy kiss.

‘I’ll be finished late with Airex,’ she breathed against his lips when they broke apart. ‘And then I’ll come to your quarters?’

He smiled with relief, gleamed with relief. ‘We didn’t get co-dependent or anything while we were away, huh?’

‘Most certainly not,’ she said with mock-huffiness. ‘We’re well-adjusted professionals.’ She kissed him quickly again, then let him go. ‘I’ll see you later.’

They parted properly then, though Thawn found her feet still grow heavier as she headed down the corridor towards her quarters. The last time she’d been there, she’d been dithering, delaying, refusing to decide what to do after finally breaking things off with Adamant. Only at the last possible second, with Beckett about to depart on the Starfall, had she grabbed nothing and set off to intercept him.

But ‘breaking things off’ with Adamant would take more than a conversation. It would take paperwork to process a divorce. More importantly, it would take speaking to her family. His family. She had broken commitments to her house, and more was at play here than anything so petty as people’s feelings.

That, at least, could wait. They were in a crisis, after all. The fate of the sector was at stake, and even Thawn’s aunt would not expect her to put her Starfleet duty on hold to see to the politics of the Houses of Betazed. Duty was everything, after all.

But the thought that the reawakening of the Borg had granted her a reprieve was small comfort. They all had to survive to make the most of it. And with the stakes this high, the potential consequences so dire, Rosara Thawn knew one thing.

She would rather not relearn how to sleep alone.

The power signature was so weak, even Thawn had struggled to pick out its exact location from the bridge. A knot of the Cube’s debris had sunk into orbit of one of the moons of Lockney, none of it very large but already forming a clutch of Borg wreckage. Most of it was dead, disconnected chunks of hull or bulkheads or hardware, but somewhere in the cluster, something gleamed.

‘Redemption is dealing with the main wreckage and hoovering up anything that’s hitting the surface anywhere in the system,’ Kharth explained to Shepherd as she slid into the booth across from her in the Round Table with a fresh mug of coffee. ‘Now we’ve got Cortez with us, they deal with the mess, we deal with the priority targets.’

Shepherd made a face. ‘You’re taking the Excalibur out there, aren’t you.’ At Kharth’s nod, she sighed. ‘I don’t get to go?’

‘Captain wants you with the bridge team.’ Kharth had a swig of coffee and shrugged. ‘Shipboard operations is your priority. I get the field.’

‘I know, I know. You don’t even need a pilot?’

‘I have a pilot. It’s Lindgren. Cortez wants Thawn, too.’

‘So who’s even left on the bridge team to monitor?’

‘Fox needs more time at helm. Athaka’s been fine in Ops for weeks. I’m not bringing Airex or Logan.’

‘You’re not bringing Logan.’ Shepherd tilted her head. ‘He’s Chief of Security.’

‘I’m a security officer.’

‘A security officer’s there to make sure the team is safe. You’re the XO – your priority is the mission objectives. And Logan knows about this stuff.’

‘He’ll be a comm-call away.’ Kharth tried to not scowl. ‘And you’re right – I am the XO. I decide who goes on my away mission. I’m bringing Qadir, anyway.’

Shepherd looked like she might argue, then shut her mouth. ‘Okay,’ she said at length. ‘This just isn’t like anything you’ve done before – we’ve done before.’

‘That doesn’t,’ Kharth said with a faint bite, ‘sound much like “okay.”’ Her eyes flickered to the doors as they opened, and she grabbed her mug when Cortez entered. ‘Oh, shoot, I gotta go.’

But Cortez waved her back down as she spotted them and headed over. ‘You kidding, Sae? I’m not going in there without a coffee. Because what I really need before going onto a creepy-ass chunk of Borg ship is to pump more caffeine into my adrenaline system.’

The tension between Kharth and Shepherd subsided, and the XO waited for Cortez to get her own drink and join them before she gestured between the pair. ‘Have you two met outside of a briefing room?’

‘Sure,’ said Cortez as she slid into the booth beside Kharth and nodded to Shepherd. ‘There was that war zone and everything.’

‘We’ve really gotta find better circumstances to hang out,’ Shepherd agreed dryly.

‘Shep here is mad she doesn’t get to wander around a creepy Borg shipwreck with weird Borg tech,’ Kharth drawled.

‘It’s not that,’ Shepherd transparently lied. ‘It’s that I get to be the one on the bridge watching the reports come in and watching Valance have kittens.’ As Cortez winced, she tilted her head. ‘I’m not looking to pry or anything, but…’

‘Oh, I get it. Gossip is your prerogative as a command-level officer?’ said Cortez, managing a lopsided smile. ‘It’s not a secret. Karana and I were a thing. Then came Jericho and the squadron changes, and we… weren’t.’

‘Long distance is tough,’ Shepherd said sympathetically.

‘What’s really tough is your girlfriend deciding she’d rather have her own command than stay close to you,’ said Cortez, swigging her coffee with a forced air of joviality.

‘That double-sucks. Do you want to pick on Sae to feel better?’

Kharth stared. ‘What?’

Cortez’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, now we’re talking.’

‘What did I -’

‘So you met Logan, right?’ Shepherd leaned forward with a gleeful expression. ‘This girl keeps on exploding whenever he’s mentioned.’

Kharth’s eyes narrowed. ‘I do not explode.’

Cortez’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re right,’ she gasped at Shepherd. ‘And here I thought we’d have to put up with the Airex Disaster Show forever!’

‘There is nothing,’ Kharth said, scrabbling desperately to recover control of the situation, ‘going on between me and Logan.’

‘Sure,’ said Cortez. ‘Just like there was nothing going on between Thawn and Beckett. When did they decide to start screwing like rabbits, anyway? They reported in from their trip to Synnef, and when Rourke explained it, I first assumed I would need to hose down the inside of the Starfall from all the viscera of what she’d left of Beckett. That changed.’

Kharth rolled her eyes, pretending she wasn’t grateful for the interruption. Otherwise, there’d be no escape. ‘I don’t know. They were on Pathfinder for a time, so maybe something happened there. Then Frontier Day happens, and they’re on double tenterhooks, then Thawn all of a sudden breaks it off with Rhade and runs away with Beckett? I don’t have any line on the gossip of Pathfinder, though.’ She also didn’t care much. But, again, that would tempt the other two to set their eyes on her.

‘Maybe we bully Thawn on this mission,’ Cortez mused.

‘Yes, because when I’m on the wreckage of a Borg Cube that might not be completely disabled, what I care about is the romantic entanglements of my team.’

Shepherd tilted her head. ‘You decided to not bring resident expert Logan on this trip, though.’

Kharth planted her hands on the table. ‘On second thoughts, maybe the Borg Cube doesn’t sound that bad. Isa?’

Cortez looked gloomily at her half-finished coffee but necked it in one. ‘Command changed you. You used to be perky.’

‘That’s a lie,’ Kharth said, and turned back to Shepherd. ‘We’ll stay in touch.’

‘Lindgren,’ gasped Cortez as they left the Round Table. ‘That’s who we can bully for the low-down on Thawn.’

It felt good, Kharth thought, to have Cortez beside her, however horrifying the prospect ahead of them. They’d been side-by-side for years, only for Jericho’s machinations to break up the crew of Endeavour. Everything was different, even with Jericho gone – Rourke had left, Sadek had left, Carraway had left – and even those still here were changed, their life paths irreversibly altered. Still, for a moment, as they headed out of the Round Table towards the shuttlebay, it was just like old times, embarking on another away mission.

But once they were in the turbolift, Cortez shifted her feet, stared at the doors, and said awkwardly, ‘How’s she been?’

Kharth immediately willed herself somewhere else. ‘It’s not like I had any better idea than you while she was on Pathfinder, either, Isa…’

‘Sure, but. The last couple months.’ Cortez fiddled with her sleeve. ‘Frontier Day. Captaining Endeavour. You as XO, I mean, I don’t know what that means…’

‘It means she didn’t want a yes-man in Airex and understands she sometimes needs someone to disagree with her,’ Kharth half-snapped. Then she stopped herself, rubbing her temples. ‘I don’t know, Isa. We’ve sorted our working dynamic. It doesn’t mean we’re friends. That’s never going to happen.’

‘Sure. Of course.’

The turbolift’s whirring was annoyingly loud. After a few moments, Kharth sighed. ‘Frontier Day was tough,’ she said at last. ‘On everyone, but it was her first outing as Endeavour’s captain. Then, we were benched for a while to recover. Since then, it’s been survey work. This is our first time being sent out to do something proper. And she’s still… I mean, she’s Valance. Even if we were friends, I’m not sure she’d tell me.’

‘At least Airex is here.’ Then Cortez winced again. ‘For her, I mean. She was really hurt when he left. I know it’s probably hard for you.’

Kharth shrugged and found to her faint surprise that this wasn’t entirely forced. ‘I’m trying to be done with all that mess with Dav. Coming back to this sector, it… shoved a load of things into focus. We’ve been through too much for me to trust him on anything more than a professional level. Maybe we can even be friends, sort of. But I’m done tying who I am up into decisions he made to protect himself, at my expense.’

‘Woah,’ said Cortez after a moment. ‘That sounded kinda healthy.’

‘Imagine.’

‘So now you’re tying everything up into this Logan guy?’ But Cortez was grinning toothily, and had to know the turbolift was nearly there, as the doors opened a moment later, allowing her to escape into the shuttlebay before Kharth could summon an effective denial or retaliation.

Thawn and Lindgren were already waiting for them, sat in the cockpit of the Excalibur, the Endeavour’s new Waverider-class auxiliary craft. With all of the ship’s work on the frontier, Valance had estimated that they might need a more well-rounded smallcraft for away missions, where bringing a Constitution III-class might give them too large a profile – politically or physically. The Excalibur could house an away team for days at a time, letting them take expeditions away from the ship with a high degree of self-sufficiency, without being as resource-intensive as keeping two New Atlantic-class runabouts aboard. They were versatile craft, but the Excalibur was fast and sleek and perfect for sliding into a den of Borg wreckage.

‘Commanders, we are ready to go at your say-so,’ came Lindgren’s greeting call as they entered the cockpit.

‘The AIP is stored in the aft,’ Thawn confirmed, sat at the science console already. ‘Lieutenant Qadir’s with it. I think he’s worried it’s going to do something.’

Kharth frowned. ‘Is it?’

Thawn looked at her, clearly trying to keep her expression neutral. ‘It doesn’t do anything until it’s connected to a system,’ she said at length, and Kharth was dimly impressed how she’d managed to not sound patronising.

Kharth turned to Lindgren. ‘Just take us out, Lieutenant.’

‘Aye, Commander,’ said Lindgren, sounding faintly relieved that a fight wasn’t about to break out behind her.

Kharth slid into the co-pilot’s chair, buckling herself in as Lindgren eased the Excalibur out of Endeavour’s shuttlebay. The sights of the Lockney system soon raced into sharp clarity through the cockpit canopy, the sun stained by the debris all around them. Black dots blotted out the light, some still holding the faintest of green hues and gleams, but they were, at least, dwarfed by the USS Redemption. Like a sentinel, the mighty ship hung before the remains of the Borg Cube, on standby to respond if they gave so much of a whisper.

But it was not towards its watchful eye that they were headed. Lindgren brought the Excalibur about, away from the guardians of the Redemption and Endeavour, away from the light, and towards the shadow of the sixth planet and its dozen moons. From this distance, it looked like one had been beset by flies in the black of space, as if ash hung about it, but Kharth knew that was this smaller, secondary debris field.

Thawn’s eye was on a different planet, though – the third from the sun, nothing more than a pinprick of light from here but shining bright on her sensors. ‘I can’t imagine what might happen if Borg technology lands somewhere a pre-warp people find it.’

‘It’ll be horrifying,’ mused Cortez, ‘but they won’t understand it. Daragon suggested they were pre-industrial.’

‘Assuming it’s not a whole section of a deck with a drone in it,’ Kharth said darkly.

‘Brighten up, Sae, we’d have heard if that happened.’

‘You’re right. We’ve got our own worst-case scenario to worry about. Thawn, how’re you doing with that power signature?’

‘It’s deep in the debris field. We’ll need to be closer.’

Lindgren blew out her cheeks. ‘Deeper into the creepy debris field of a Borg ship we’re only mostly sure is dead.’

‘No, Lieutenant,’ said Kharth. ‘There’s a power signature. It’s definitely not dead.’

Distant sunlight struggled to stretch this far. As they drew closer to the debris field, its gleam barely shone on the emerald veins, drained of life, rippling across the remains of this Borg Cube. With a light touch, Lindgren manoeuvred them around the peripheral chunks of debris, and it was as if the blackness of space grew even darker as they fell under the shadows of the the Cube’s ghostly shroud.

The faintest bleep from Thawn’s console made them all nearly jump. Bashfully, she said, ‘I’ve narrowed the power signature to a region of twenty metres. It looks like there’s a sizeable section of debris there.’

Kharth nodded. ‘Take us in, Lindgren. You’re going to hold outside. Cortez, Qadir and I will suit up and head in.’

Thawn sat up. ‘But -’

‘When we’ve secured the area and confirmed there’s even a system for the AIP to connect with, you’ll bring it in,’ Kharth said, getting to her feet. The Excalibur spun gently, drifting around a stretch of broken hull plating, then there it was before them, their destination: a section of the Cube, bulkheads intact.

This would take bringing the ship up close, going EV and moving across by thrusters. This would take going inside to see if this was a viable target for their investigation.

And if there was a power signature somewhere, Kharth thought grimly as she headed for the aft of the Excalibur, what was still alive in there?

If sound was a matter of science, then space was silent. But if Kharth fell to philosophy and accepted that sound needed an audience, then space could be heard. Space was the ringing in her ears that surged in the absence of all other noise. It was the breathing that filled the helmet of her environmental suit, the reverberations of the mag-boots on the hull of obsidian black. It was the sound made by nothing but imagination when a tool impacted metal, memory and instinct rushing up to fill the void. Sometimes, it was the crackle of the comm systems and the voices of comrades on the same team, or safe on the decks of their ships, who all felt equally distant whether they were metres or thousands of kilometres away.

But most of the time, the sound of space was what she brought with her. And when it came to boarding a Borg derelict, she brought a lot with her.

‘I’m picking up atmo on the inside. This section hasn’t depressurised,’ Cortez reported as she swept her forearm across a sealed door, the tricorder built into her suit. ‘Gather up; I’m going to airlock us.’

They tromped across the hull of this broken section of the Borg Cube to join her. If she looked up, Kharth would see the Excalibur mere tens of metres away; Lindgren had brought them close and the thrusters on their EV suits had done the rest. But that would be dizzying, nauseating, so she focused instead on the dizzying nausea of entering a Borg space.

Lieutenant Qadir didn’t look any happier about it. His grip on his phaser rifle was iron-tight as he stepped up beside her. ‘When you open the doors, Commander, let me go first.’

‘Are you kidding?’ came Cortez’s voice. ‘I’ll damn well push you through first.’ They assembled around the door, and the engineer bent down to attach a forcefield projector to the hull. One press of a button encased them in a cuboid forcefield just large enough to contain them. Then Cortez knelt by the door, cracked open her vacuum-rated toolkit again, and began to work.

It could not have taken more than a minute. It did not only feel longer, but Kharth found herself wanting it to take longer. She was not sure if she heard or imagined the hiss of air when Cortez finally popped the doors and the atmosphere rushed no further than into their small forcefield, an artificial airlock to stop them from blowing the whole interior.

Kharth stared at the dark, then keyed her comms. Their channel had included the Excalibur, but now she switched to also include Endeavour. ‘This is Kharth. We’ve secured an access point to the wreckage and are heading in.’ She didn’t process the details of any acknowledgement before looking at Qadir and nodding.

Qadir was new to Endeavour, freshly promoted and transferred after Frontier Day to serve as Logan’s deputy. Bright-eyed and eager, Kharth also found him serious and reliable, and it was that discipline he brought to bear as he swept the light of his rifle through the interior before swinging himself in.

A moment later, they followed. For a second, Kharth’s gut lurched as she spun ninety degrees, the deck she’d moved to running perpendicular to the hull they’d been stood on. But any sickness from that motion was nothing compared to the sickness of sinking into the oily obsidian and emerald of a Borg ship.

‘Oh, Seb,’ she swore. ‘This place is intact.’

As far as their flashlights reached, the corridor stretched. They were the brightest sources of light, even though several of the alcoves that lined every bulkhead gleamed with the hint of emerald, cursed life. Their footsteps rattled on the metal deck plating, echoing into the depths with a silence that felt like its own answer, a rejection of their very presence, a sign they were intruders who did not belong. This was a hive of the Borg.

Most of the alcoves were empty. A smattering were not, the figures within nothing but silhouettes in the white and green lighting, still as statues that could turn to devils in a heartbeat.

Cortez’s voice sounded loud in their ears, and Kharth saw Qadir flinch. ‘Easy,’ the engineer assured. ‘This is less intact than some of the bits Redemption checked out. These drones won’t move unless we start trouble. And we’re not here for trouble. We’re here for investigation, right?’

‘Right,’ Kharth breathed. ‘What do we need?’

‘A storage access node,’ Cortez said confidently. ‘On a section like this, we’ll be looking for a secondary or even tertiary one. Its memory banks should still contain whatever was recently accessed in this section, and with luck, that’ll help us understand what this Priority Zero-Zero-Four is.’

‘So if we don’t find one,’ came Qadir’s tinny voice, ‘we go?’

‘We go,’ Cortez confirmed. ‘And then we gotta find another one somewhere else and do all this again.’ As they advanced, her voice went up a pitch. ‘Hey, Sae. Remember when we boarded that creepy-ass ship full of blood dilithium?’

‘As someone attacked from the shadows on that mission,’ came the interjection of Thawn, transmitting from aboard the Excalibur, ‘can we keep reminiscing to a minimum?’

‘Don’t worry,’ said Kharth, jaw set. ‘If history repeats itself, I’m going to kick Isa’s ass.’

‘Just reminding everyone that we got through something just as creepy okay.’ Cortez’s voice crackled across Endeavour’s bridge, and Valance tried to keep her expression level at the reminder of both the incident and how Cortez could set a team at ease under even the worst of circumstances.

‘There’s certainly a central power source in that wreckage, and they’re approaching it,’ Airex confirmed, the Excalibur piping their sensor feed back to Endeavour so they could monitor the mission progress. ‘But no confirmation what it is.’

‘If the section retained atmosphere and there’s a power source,’ said Logan, ‘they should assume the area is just as dangerous as on an active Borg ship.’

‘Don’t mistake Commander Cortez’s manner for carelessness,’ Airex warned. ‘She’s one of the most cautious officers I’ve met.’

That eased the tension in Valance’s spine an iota. Airex had said nothing she didn’t know, but it was reassuring to hear it anyway. She’d wanted to defend Cortez but wasn’t sure how that would be perceived by the bridge crew. ‘We don’t backseat fly this mission,’ she warned. ‘We’re monitoring, that’s all. Commander Kharth has the lead.’

They listened in uneasy silence as the away team discussed their progression deeper into the derelict. All sounded still, the Borg unresponsive to their presence, and Valance’s feet itched. Once, she’d have led the mission. Once, she’d have been with them. With her.

Beside her, Shep offered a tight smile. ‘They got this, Cap,’ she said quietly. Valance knew it was meant kindly, but the words rang hollow.

At length, Cortez’s voice broke through with a change of tone. ‘That looks like something. Yeah, yeah. That’s a tertiary access node. Let me check it over.’

‘If it is,’ came Thawn’s voice from the Excalibur, suddenly very small, ‘does that mean I have to find you on my own?’

There was a pause. At the aft of the bridge, Beckett swore quietly and began to pace. Qadir answered, ‘I can come to –’

‘It’s fine,’ sighed Thawn after a moment. ‘This will be terrible for someone, one way or another.’

‘Good news,’ said Cortez. ‘This is the node we want. Lucky you, Thawn, you get to do the gauntlet of creepy. We’re straight down the corridor; not hard to find.’

‘Physically,’ Thawn corrected. ‘Heading in with the package.’

Logan stood and padded to Kally’s station. At a gesture, she patched him through. ‘Lieutenant Thawn; Logan here. Can you sense anything?’

‘I was hoping you wouldn’t ask that,’ Thawn admitted moments later. ‘There are… minds here. It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt before. Honestly, I’m not looking too closely.’

‘Don’t,’ Logan confirmed. ‘If you can sense the drones, then they’re active. Commander Cortez, were there drones in proximity to the last nodes you checked?’

A beat. ‘No,’ Cortez admitted. ‘The nodes were part of wreckage we salvaged. The drones were in other sections.’

Logan looked like he might say more, but Valance caught his eye. ‘Commander. Backseat flying.’

‘Captain, this situation is -’

‘Different, yes. But they don’t need to be told to be careful. And they don’t need you pointing out the shadows of the unknown.’

Logan subsided unhappily, still standing by Kally’s station. After a moment, Beckett moved over to join him, and Valance ground her teeth. This was the exact sort of behaviour she’d hoped to avoid on the bridge.

Minutes later, Cortez said, ‘Hey, Thawn, it’s us. Give us the AIP.’

‘That,’ Thawn admitted, voice rather shaky, ‘was terrible.’

‘It’ll be fine now. You’re with us. Let’s take a look.’ The comms picked up the clattering of equipment, and they heard a faint whir. ‘I’m connecting the AIP now. We’ll download anything to sealed storage with us; I’m not transmitting Borg records directly onto our ship.’

‘Very good, Commander,’ said Valance, and tried to not give Logan a pointed look. They were being careful.

‘Extracting now.’ Cortez sounded steady. ‘It’s not…’

‘Hold on.’ Qadir’s voice came like a whip-crack. ‘Did that drone move?’

‘Easy,’ warned Kharth. ‘We’d know if they were activating. We don’t – what’s that thing doing?’

Valance’s spine went iron-tight.

‘It’s uploading, Commander!’ Thawn’s voice had gone up another pitch. ‘That’s a whole new protocol –’

‘Captain!’ Airex looked up as his console bleeped. ‘Power levels on the derelict are rising.’

Valance stalked to the cluster by comms. ‘Away team, report!’

Cortez voice came through in the rock-steady tone that told her something was seriously wrong. ‘The AIP seems to have given the systems here a command; they’re powering up.’

‘Detach it!’ Kharth ordered.

‘It’s fusing in –’

Logan’s hand slammed on the rim of the comms panel, and he leaned in. ‘The AIP has detected damage, and systems and drones capable of repairing. It’s instructing them to do it. You have to kill the power source, Cortez!’

But the away team’s words spilt over him, unhearing.

‘The drone’s moving!’

‘I can’t disconnect it –’

The line went dead. Kally’s hands flew across the controls, and the young officer’s voice held a bite of hysteria as she said, ‘I’ve lost contact with the away team and the Excalibur!’

‘The wreckage is putting out a jamming signal,’ said Airex. ‘No comm signals are getting out, and I can’t read life signs.’

Valance whirled to face him. ‘If we get closer, can you break it so we can beam them out?’ At his hapless shrug, she stabbed a finger at helm. ‘Fox, get us closer. Logan – I don’t care how much debris you need to start taking out. Kally, get me the away team.’

Shepherd swung around the tertiary command chair towards the mission ops console. ‘Beckett, here,’ she snapped. ‘We’re going to try to restore contact with the Excalibur, get eyes on the sitch.’

Valance half-nodded to her, but her eyes were on the viewscreen as Endeavour surged towards a debris field they were not rated to enter and could well hold more secrets they might disturb. ‘You know what to do, everyone,’ she called, trying to summon the commanding warmth blended with urgency she thought Rourke might at that moment. ‘Get us back in touch with our people.’

Saeihr Kharth thought she’d weathered everything the galaxy could throw at her. From the roughest thugs of frontier settlements when she was only a teenager, to bloodthirsty Klingon warriors boarding her ship as an officer, to time-displaced Jem’Hadar refusing to stand down at Izar. She’d faced demons in the flesh and in her heart, and even those in the minds of others.

When the Borg drone set one slow, deliberate foot on the deck of the derelict, she knew nothing she’d seen or done had prepared her for that moment. ‘Get that thing switched off!’ she barked at Cortez, and heard the knife-edge of hysteria in her voice.

‘I’m trying – the thing’s sprouted nanite tubes and is clinging on like a damn limpet –’

‘Then screw it! Leave it, and we go!’

But beside the engineer, Thawn raised her forearm to read the display on the tricorder built into her suit. ‘The door we came through’s sealed. Systems are emitting a jamming signal. I can’t raise Endeavour or even the Excalibur.’

‘Commander…’ Qadir raised his rifle as the drone turned to face them. The red dot seared through the shadows of the long corridor, slicing through darkness sharper than the dancing lights of their torches, which shuddered in the chaos.

Don’t shoot it, Kharth thought. It might be responding to anything. It might be heading to repair something. It might ignore us. Shoot it, and it won’t.

The drone took a step forward.

‘Fuck!’ she yelped, and before she knew it, she’d squeezed her rifle’s trigger, a decade’s training and discipline out the window at the merest whisper of a drone’s attention. Her shot struck true, taking the drone in the upper chest. It staggered, stepped back – and fell, hitting the deck with a thudding clang.

The sound echoed and rattled through the corridor as if to make the bulkheads themselves shudder. And as it faded, sinking further into the darkness, further into the stretches of the derelict they had not reached, an answer came with a heavy, metallic footstep.

Then another. And another.

In the silence between the footsteps of drones, Cortez breathed, ‘Oh, shit.’

‘Excalibur to away team. Come in!’ Lindgren’s sensors had been silent one moment, steady with the drift of the wreckage, the gentle pulse of the one power signature. Then everything had gone wild. She didn’t know Borg sensor technology, but she knew jamming signals when she saw them. Enough to know what would happen when she flicked channels. ‘Excalibur to Endeavour, do you read me?’

The silence of space this time bore an eerie hiss. Lindgren answered it with swearing. Then she reached from the pilot’s controls to the comms systems and brought up the full connection settings display. Boosting the power would probably get her in touch with Endeavour but wouldn’t help her with the away team. That would take breaking the jamming itself.

‘Narrow the band,’ she muttered. ‘If it took Thawn…’ She checked the comm records. ‘Eighty-seven seconds to reach them from breaching the door, that’s a hundred metres, hundred-ten…’

If that was still where they were. If Thawn had moved at a predictable speed in hostile territory. If narrowing down the away team’s location could even help her break a jamming signal from a Borg derelict.

Her eyes flickered to the canopy, and the wreckage that held her friends hanging above her. The Excalibur was locked in a synchronous drift, and though she knew they both tumbled through the cosmos amidst a sea of Borg skulls, to her eyes and heart, the world was fixed. ‘Closer,’ she muttered, and reached for the flight controls.

‘…if we enter the debris field, we need our deflectors up,’ Athaka explained, looking like he’d appreciate fusing with the deck. ‘There’s too much out there, sir.’

‘We don’t have a transporter lock yet,’ said Valance, swinging into the captain’s chair. ‘Fix that problem first. We can lower shields long enough to beam them out and take impacts on the hull for a matter of seconds.’

‘Why is it we need Rosara to save Rosara,’ exclaimed Beckett, stood over Shepherd near the aft and throwing his hands in the air. There was more panic in the young man’s voice than Valance appreciated, but she understood the sentiment. The best person to break through Borg interference for a transporter lock was one of the very people they were trying to rescue.

‘Kally!’ Logan didn’t look up from his controls. ‘I’m sending you some frequencies Borg use for their systems communications; you might be able to piggyback a signal off that? Airex – piping you some of the shield harmonic calibrations they use to block out sensors.’

‘We’re entering the field,’ Ensign Fox warned from Helm.

‘Steady as she goes,’ Valance called. She wanted to yell at the young officer to blitz them through the wreckage to get there in time. Disturbing the debris field only bore the threat of more chaos, though; the last thing they wanted to do was unduly wake up anything else. ‘We’ve got to do this right.’

‘There’s no way we can carve through the bulkheads in anything less than ten minutes.’ Kharth’s eyes swept across the stretch of Borg ship, as if the corridor bore secrets of how this place could become anything other than their tomb.

Stood at the rear of the group, facing the darkness, Qadir shifted his feet. ‘They’re coming.’ The glow of his helmet light and HUD cast his dark skin in a sickly, sallow hue of terror as the footsteps thudded.

The AIP was a boxy shape a foot long and had looked to Kharth like nothing more specific than a ‘Borgy cuboid.’ But after it connected to the system, nanite tubes had sprouted to latch it onto the tall display of the Borg interface. Directly above it, symbols that had once been a pale green now flashed an urgent, angry red.

Cortez was already crouched over it with a plasma torch, its light casting jagged shadows. But the moment one nanite tube was sliced through after long, thudding seconds of heat, another sprouted. ‘Son of a…’

‘We blow it up,’ said Thawn, which was how Kharth knew she was panicking. Thawn would normally never suggest brute force. ‘You’ve got charges, right, Commander? If we blow this thing up…’

‘It’s right on top of the power source!’ Cortez snapped. ‘That kills us all. Work on the Borg systems, try to turn this damn alarm or whatever we tripped off!’

Thawn turned to the display with wide eyes, obviously at her wit’s end in even beginning to interpret such a display. Kharth opened her mouth to make a suggestion she didn’t have before Qadir’s voice cut in, low and cold and level.

‘Commander.’

He could not be calm, Kharth thought as she turned to see a pair of red lights slice through darkness. No, it was not control that made him sound level. This kind of measuredness came only from standing at the very edge of terror.

‘Miracle workers?’ Kharth growled at the two operations officers behind her. ‘Time to earn your name. Qadir, you know the protocol – rotate frequency every shot.’

But Cortez and Thawn were arguing, not coming up with solutions, and when the first drone stepped into the edge of the ring of light, Kharth found that same calm Qadir had. Terror still reigned supreme, fizzing through her veins and thoughts, but with it was acceptance.

This was it. She’d doomed them all.

Then came the faintest crackle in her helmet’s comms. ‘…Lindgren to away team.’

Hope surged, but Kharth knew it was likely a false dawn. ‘Away team here. We’re cooked, Lieutenant; if you can’t pull us out now, you gotta get clear.’

‘Understood!’ Lindgren didn’t sound like she was actually listening, frantically running on automatic as she spoke. ‘Patching you through to Endeavour now!’

The drone took another step forward. Kharth fired. It fell. At once, she flipped her rifle to change the frequency, work that took several critical seconds, as from behind it advanced another.

‘Endeavour to away team.’ Valance’s voice was clipped, and Kharth found her attention fading away. The ship would beam them out and they would live, or it would not and they would die. The captain’s words were irrelevant. ‘What’s your situation?’

It was Cortez who answered. ‘The AIP commanded the section to lock down, Captain! We’re sealed in here, and drones are coming. I can’t end the lockdown or remove the AIP.’

‘We’re on our way and trying to get a transporter –’

But Valance was cut off by deeper, urgent tones. ‘Cortez, Logan. Forget about the AIP for a sec. You need to disconnect the tertiary access node from the power. The system should register that as the end of the intrusion unless it gets contravening instruction from central control – but it’s disconnected so that should be okay.’

Qadir opened fire on the next drone, which staggered and fell. Another followed in its wake, and Kharth was still hammering on her own rifle’s buttons. ‘Keep it up!’ she urged him.

‘Right,’ Cortez breathed from behind. ‘Power connectors, power connectors…’

‘You should see a panel at the bottom of the display,’ Logan said. ‘Crack it open.’

Qadir’s next shot splashed harmlessly across the drone’s chest with a ripple of emerald shields. The young officer lowered his rifle. ‘They’ve adapted.’

‘I’ve got it,’ Kharth growled, raising her phaser. ‘Change frequency.’ But there was another coming behind it, and they were altering their phaser frequencies slower than the Borg could adapt.

Behind her, Cortez was working as Thawn handed her tools. ‘Panel open!’

‘There should be three conduits: a thick one holding steady and two thin ones pulsing. One is pulsing once every point-seven-five seconds, the other every point-five seconds. You want the point-five one; find its connector and yank it.’

‘That won’t, uh, electrify me to goop?’

‘Pull it!’

Kharth slung her rifle and reached for the toolbelt of her EV suit and the tel qalanq shortsword strapped across it. Only the darkest of thoughts had seen her bring it, preparing so unwillingly for this kind of worst-case scenario that she hadn’t truly considered the implications. Now, she drew it as the next drone stepped forward.

There was a fizz, a clatter, and a yelp from Cortez. The red light of the display flashed wildly, turned steady and green, and then a faint ringing Kharth hadn’t realised was even sounding through the corridor faded.

‘Jamming signal’s down!’ called Thawn. ‘Doors are unsealed!’

But the drone still took another step forward.

‘Go!’ Kharth barked, and stepped into a combat stance. Her eyes did not leave the Borg. These things were slow but not useless, and they were tough. She had to get this right.

‘Sir -’

But Cortez grabbed Qadir by the elbow. ‘Let’s go, kid. I got this thing.’ The AIP was tucked under her arm.

The drone took one more step, and as she heard the thudding of boots of her retreating team, Kharth slid to the side. It turned, raising an arm, and now she was up close. Now she could see the pallid face encased in stygian steel, the searing red light swinging over her, but the pale, near-white organic eye locked on her with no less intensity. She could see the shape of the nose, the cheekbone, the jawline, but there was nothing left of a person to find.

Which was not precisely true, because her blade found the throat when she danced back the other way and swung. Black ichor spurted as she pulled the edge free, severing cables connecting chestplate to headpiece as it came out, and the Borg staggered, its arm falling slack.

Kharth did not wait to see if it fell. Reeling was enough to give her time to turn and run.

She could see the other three ahead of her, thudding in EV suits that were ungainly at the best of times. A fourth shadow fell across them, and the swirling corridor flashed with the bright light of a phaser blast, Cortez swearing as she fired to drop another drone.

They were ten metres from the doorway when Thawn raised her forearm and hammered a control, and the panels opened before them. The forcefield holding in the atmosphere gleamed, still, but beyond them was spinning space, the blackest void where there was, at least, no Borg –

And, rising before them, the Excalibur with her aft hatch wide open.

Qadir, Cortez, and Thawn were through first, leaping into oblivion to be carried another five metres or so – dangerously, impossibly close for the shuttle to have flown to the wreckage – before landing. Kharth was closer behind than she’d thought, her fight taking only heartbeats that had felt like a lifetime, and though she saw a drone in the alcove between her and the exit jerk, she was past it before it had taken so much as a step.

She crashed into the cargo bay of the Excalibur at full speed, landing in a bundle almost on top of Qadir. Cortez had already positioned herself by the hatchway, and smashed the control panel to seal it shut. ‘Go!’ the engineer yelled towards the cockpit. For a moment, Kharth wondered why they needed to race. Then the thought of drones hitting the hull occurred, and she slammed her eyes shut.

Moments later, they were clear, though, and Lindgren’s voice rang out. ‘Everyone alive back there?’

Kharth fought to sit up, chest heaving. ‘All here! Present!’ In the background, she heard Lindgren reporting this to Endeavour, but was distracted by Thawn pushing away from them, scrabbling desperately at her helmet.

Cortez popped hers, face sallow, and stared at Kharth. ‘That,’ she gasped, ‘was close.’

Kharth could only work her jaw wordlessly, could not even manage a nod. Beside her, Thawn pulled off her helmet and hurled it to one side. Then she fell to her hands and knees on the deck, shuddering, and threw up.

Amid the retching, Kharth found her voice. ‘Too close.’

The moment she set foot in the ready room, Kharth opened her mouth to say, ‘I take full responsibility for what happened back there.’ Except, the words didn’t come from her. They came from Cortez, walking in beside her. Instead, Kharth rounded on her and said, ‘Wait, what?’

Cortez shrugged. ‘It’s my fault, Sae. I got over-confident with the AIP and didn’t take enough precautions, and that thing nearly killed us all.’

Kharth shook her head. ‘Ridiculous; I lost my nerve and shot that drone, I brought us in half-assed -’

‘It can be more than one person’s fault,’ rumbled a voice near the window, and they turned to see Rourke stood at the window, glowering at the distant shards of broken Borg technology drifting in the space between worlds. But as Kharth braced in anticipation of reprimand, he turned back, shoulders slumping. ‘I bear responsibility, too. We bear responsibility.’

Valance, sat behind the desk that had once been Rourke’s, didn’t look like she disagreed. But she did look like she had little interest in belabouring this point. ‘We’re the leaders of this operation. We stop it from happening again.’

Cortez let out a deep breath. If she was uncomfortable being on the back foot in front of Valance, she didn’t let it show. Or, Kharth wondered, the engineer simply had a grip on herself to know the situation was bigger than their broken relationship. ‘Logan was right. The AIP behaved exactly as I expected when we first deployed it at a primary node the other day. But that was on a drifting node. It didn’t have other systems to connect to. When it interfaced on the derelict, it recognised the dormant Borg systems and sent an access request it didn’t have clearance for. That didn’t stop it from extracting the data, but it sure as hell triggered the security reaction. I didn’t expect it, and I couldn’t stop it.’

‘I don’t know if the drones were coming for us when the derelict locked down,’ Kharth admitted. ‘I’d like to say I decided to not wait and see. Truth is… that thing came for us, and I panicked.’ It was hard to feel ashamed of that reaction in itself. The shame came not from losing her nerve in the face of the Borg, but from losing her nerve as the XO, as the away mission leader. ‘I figure it’s safe to say we’d be dead or assimilated if it weren’t for Logan and Lindgren.’

Valance merely nodded, brow furrowed. ‘We’ve reports of a homing signal somewhere in the direction of the Rencaris system. It’s on the same frequency as other signals from the Cube. Endeavour is to answer it.’ She looked up at Cortez. ‘Is the AIP too dangerous to use?’

Cortez hesitated. ‘I still think Commander Logan’s over-cautious,’ she said at length. ‘And I know that’s rich from me, being over-confident. Truth is, we now know more about the damn thing. At a minimum, we don’t plug it into a node connected to other active systems again – we can extract the nodes, bring them aboard or quarantine them in space. But I can use the trip to work on some technical countermeasures to stop this from happening again.’

Valance watched her for a moment. Then gave another nod. ‘Keep working with Thawn. Bring in Airex and Logan.’

‘What did you get off this node?’ Rourke said at last.

Cortez blew her cheeks out. ‘Impossible to say at this point. A whole load of data. I’ll go through it with the others and report back ASAP.’

‘Thank you, Commander,’ said Valance briskly. ‘That’ll be all.’

There was another flicker of uncertainty from Cortez, a wavering. But she nodded, too, and after exchanging a glance with Kharth, she left.

Kharth rubbed her temples. ‘I didn’t want to argue with Isa over who screwed up worse,’ she sighed. ‘But I know I made a mess of that situation. Not least because I benched Logan.’ She glanced between them, and it felt like old times – but back then, she did not bear this same level of responsibility. ‘You should both know this could have been avoided if I’d listened to Shep on any number of occasions. She pushed for me to take him.’

Rourke grimaced. ‘Why didn’t you?’

She tried to not look at Valance, catching a flicker in her eye. Not because I’m still finding my feet with him after… all that, if that’s what you’re thinking, Kharth didn’t say. She drew a sharp breath. ‘The good answer? I found him tense and over-cautious in the initial briefing. I trust his knowledge, but I worried about his judgement in the field with the Borg. I thought he would be better giving us advice from the bridge, instead of being exposed to a high-pressure scenario that could be, frankly, dangerously retraumatising. For us as well as him.’ It felt very stupid in hindsight. Logan had held firm on Frontier Day. He’d been cleared for active operations. And she hadn’t so much as talked to him.

Valance sighed. ‘I didn’t overrule you.’

‘There’s more,’ Kharth admitted awkwardly. ‘Shep also – she made a point that I was thinking like the security officer, not the XO, on the run-up. That I had to be primarily responsible for the mission objectives, not the team’s safety. I argued, but… she wasn’t entirely wrong. I still feel I was acting as XO, even if I wasn’t doing a great job. But I was also acting like I’m still security chief. And I’m not. That’s Logan.’

To her surprise, Rourke gave a short bark of laughter at that. At her sharp look, he waved a hand apologetically. ‘Most of us aren’t forced into that transitional experience on a Borg wreck, Kharth. That’s a rough learning curve.’

She bit her lip and looked between them. ‘I know Shep has me beat on rank and command experience; I know she’s got better command instincts. If you want a rearrangement at the top, I understand.’

That made Rourke frown. ‘You mean, swap you two? No, no. I have other plans for Shep.’

‘If I’d wanted Commander Shepherd as my XO,’ added Valance, ‘I would have kept her aboard in the first place.

Neither woman said more, and at length, Rourke shifted his feet. ‘Don’t you two start doing each other’s hair or anything,’ he said dryly, and shrugged at Kharth’s sharp look. ‘Alright, I won’t tell you how to be a command team.’

‘Because I’m sure you two hugged after every mission,’ Kharth countered, getting the faintest twitch of the lips from Valance. The levity didn’t last, though, and Kharth flopped onto the chair across from the captain. ‘I think,’ she said at last, ‘we’ve been handling Logan all wrong.’

‘I agreed with keeping him on the bridge,’ said Valance. ‘It was reasonable to assume he’d be valuable for mission control. And he was.’

‘Okay,’ said Kharth, ‘but are we sure we’re not being a little over-cautious about him because he’s an xB?’

Valance stiffened. ‘He’s been embedded in the psychological and emotional recovery of half the crew since Frontier Day. If I had any prejudice against a former drone, I would never dream of letting him become such an intrinsic part of the crew’s wellbeing -’

‘If someone suggested you or me get benched on a mission involving the Romulan diaspora or the Klingon Empire because we might get too emotional, we’d set the bridge on fire. Is this any different?’

‘It’s always different,’ rumbled Rourke, ‘when it’s Borg.’ As they turned to him, he sighed. ‘I heard his objections in the briefing, too. What I didn’t explain is just how far this situation stretches. This is about more than the Midgard Sector; this is happening across the old Neutral Zone, with Borg homing signals going off everywhere the black market squirrelled away tech. Beyond our Beta Quadrant frontier, we’ve had sightings of Borg ship movements. In the Delta Quadrant, they’re back at their old borders, places we thought they’d pulled back from after Voyager. We’ve got to do more here than sweep a Midgard problem under the rug. We have to find answers. And this is no time for Mister Logan to be conservative in his judgements.’

Valance sighed and rubbed her temples. ‘Perhaps. But we need to learn from this first mission, or there might not be a third. Let’s bring Logan further into our planning, if you think that’s right, Commander.’

‘I think,’ Kharth said, with an apologetic glance at Rourke, ‘we should have brought Logan closer in yesterday.’

The AIP was once more secure. Sealed behind a containment field, it was further locked away even from sight within a new, Starfleet-issue case instead of the crate Thawn had brought from Synnef. Even though it could not so much as malevolently gleam, she still found her attention dragging towards it like it had a magnetic pull.

Blinking, her eyes snapped back to the middle of the science lab the SCE team had taken over as Cortez explained her findings.

‘We managed to decrypt about as much of what we extracted from the derelict as I think we’re gonna get,’ she said to Valance and Kharth. ‘I reckon the section of the Cube we were in was associated with some of the tertiary data processing systems – which for the Borg is like one of our science labs.’

Kharth brightened. ‘So we know what they’ve been studying?’

‘I said tertiary,’ Cortez said with a wince. ‘On the surface, all we’ve got is some indication they were assessing their astrometric data on the Midgard Sector and the vicinity – but it’s too corrupted to have any degree of confidence on how accurate their intelligence is on the region.’

‘That indicates that this region was their destination, at least,’ ventured Valance. ‘Rather than that we were on their way.’

‘We’re still talking about an area scores of light-years wide,’ Cortez said, still apologetic. ‘But.’

In the silence, Thawn fidgeted. Only after a moment did she realise eyes were on her, and she stood. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise that was my cue.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Their analysis is quite broad. They appear to have focused on a variety of locations, and it’s not only worlds with populations or resources. It’s not even only worlds. We think they’re looking for something, and not necessarily a strategic target.’

‘And they were going to scour the Midgard Sector?’ Kharth wondered.

Thawn shook her head. ‘Their analysis of this data is days old, at least a week. I believe it was conducted well ahead of their departure from the Delta Quadrant. This was one stage of a search pattern, one I expect they’d narrowed down even before they left.’

‘But what it means,’ said Cortez, jumping back in, ‘is that we know this was a search party. And we don’t think it’s a strategic priority.’

Valance set her hands on her hips. ‘Is there a chance it was general reconnaissance? The Collective can’t have up-to-date intelligence on this region.’

‘Maybe,’ Cortez allowed, though clearly didn’t think it likely. Thawn was confident that a year ago, she would have been bold enough to outright tell Valance her guess was probably wrong. ‘But that would suggest they were coming here for a sector-by-sector sweep, or to find a key position from which to run long-range scans. What little we can tell of their analysis doesn’t support that.’

Kharth blew out her cheeks. ‘Guess we’ll have to see what secrets Rencaris has for us.’

‘It seems so,’ said Valance stiffly. She nodded to the technical team. ‘Good job. Keep working on more safety measures if we’re to use the AIP again.’

‘Step one is to not plug it into anything attached to anything else,’ Cortez sighed. ‘But we’re on it.’ The two command officers left, and the engineer at once slumped against the control panel, eyes shut. ‘Hell.’ Thawn was silent, not knowing what to say, not sure what Cortez was exactly bothered by and reluctant to press her or even reach out with her senses. At length, Cortez looked at her. ‘You need sleep.’

‘I – Commander? We’ve got to work on the AIP…’

‘And I want to go over all our records from the away mission, and we’re waiting on more reports from the likes of Daystrom about what they’ve done with anything similar. But you look exhausted, Thawn.’

She shifted her feet. ‘Apologies, Commander, but you’re tired, too.’

‘Sure. But I outrank you, so…’ Cortez shrugged, not bothering to back up her argument further. ‘It’s been a shitty day. Go cuddle your fella and feel better.’

Thawn didn’t know how to resist the order without engaging with that point, and she really didn’t want to engage with that point. She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Drop me a line if we hear from Daystrom.’

‘I’ll drop you a line when I damn well feel like it, Lieutenant.’ Despite the firm words, Cortez’s tone was airy, confident in her power to do as she pleased in this scenario. ‘But you’re no used to me exhausted. Go on. Get!’

Thus unceremoniously shooed, Thawn had no choice but to withdraw. Shipboard time was later than she’d realised, the corridors quiet, the decks filled with the gentle hum of the ship at warp as they headed deeper, spinward into the open territories of the Midgard Sector. Endeavour had not been so far out this way since the collapse of the Star Empire of Rator and Starfleet’s aid response to the Velorum factions, and never since. Not in the long year of the region’s collapse into a political and economic wilderness.

More mysteries lay out here than the Borg.

It was not a comforting thought to bring to the loneliness of her empty quarters. Thawn tried to restore some of her old routine, a pattern that might slow her racing thoughts ahead of sleep. But even with the dulcet notes of Baccharali and a rather gentle poetry collection she’d downloaded at some point on the expedition and not worked through, she was still curled up with a blanket and staring emptily into space when the door-chime went.

She jolted, her heart rate at once going a million miles an hour. Forcing herself to slow her breathing, she could not keep the snap from her voice as she called, ‘Come in!’

It was Beckett. Of course it was. He entered like she’d dropped caltrops on the deck, but the concern on his face was open. ‘Hey. You’re still up.’

‘You’d have woken me up if I weren’t,’ she pointed out, setting the PADD with her reading rather pointedly to one side. ‘You should be asleep.’

He hesitated. ‘I was waiting for you to clock off. We didn’t do lunch.’

‘Well, no.’ She stood. ‘It wasn’t really the sort of away mission you follow up with a sandwich in the Round Table.’

‘I didn’t think it was the sort of away mission you followed up by locking yourself away in your quarters in the evening.’ But she didn’t react to that, and Beckett’s hands dropped. ‘That was too close, Rosara.’

‘You think I don’t know that?’ Control had lasted only so long. But while her heart raced with the memory of shuddering shadows and looming drones, her voice came out with more frustration than fear. ‘I was the one in there!’

‘Hey.’ He softened and stepped forward, and for some reason his open concern, even as she was pushing him, made her want to lash out even harder. ‘I’m not saying you weren’t. You’ve had a close call. I wanted to check in on you.’

‘I’m alive. There’s still work to do in the morning. Is there anything more to say?’

He stared at her. ‘What’s this about?’

Thawn picked up the PADD and blanket, bustling like she was putting things away and she expected him to leave. ‘What’s what about?’

‘You nearly got killed today and I’m reaching out and you’re pushing me away.’ He advanced, stepping in her way as she turned from the armchair. ‘Today can only have been terrifying – I was terrified – but don’t shut me out so you don’t have to deal.’

‘I’m not refusing to deal.’ She heard the lie even as it escaped her lips, but it was not the deception that made her stop. It was the way the deception failed to encapsulate everything. Thawn tossed PADD and blanket on the sofa and faced him with a sigh. ‘Logan tried to warn me yesterday. About using the AIP. About how dangerous it could be. I didn’t listen.’

Beckett’s shoulders sank. ‘That wasn’t your choice alone. Valance, Kharth, Cortez – everyone was caught out by today.’

But she didn’t falter, meeting his gaze. ‘I didn’t listen,’ she pressed on, ‘because I was distracted by you. By what Valance wanted in the meeting with you, by what was going to happen next to you, whether you were going to be transferred somewhere else…’

His hands rose to her arms as his gaze softened, but she could see he didn’t understand. ‘I didn’t get transferred. I’m not going to get transferred. I’m right here.’

She stepped out of his grasp. ‘This is more important than us. This isn’t just the lives of our away team; this is the fact of the Midgard Sector – further, if the Borg are mobilising. I need my head in the game, and you’re a distraction.’

Thawn had expected him to get frustrated, angry, disappointed. But she hadn’t expected him to look as unsurprised as he did as his hands dropped. ‘Huh,’ said Beckett at length, straightening. ‘There it is.’

She frowned. ‘There what is?’

‘Honeymoon’s over, now we’re back to reality, and you’re realising you have to actually live with the implications of running away.’

‘What?’

He gave an exaggerated shrug. ‘That’s what this is about, isn’t it? The last month was us hiding away from the world and all the baggage that comes with it. But now we’ve got to face up to what the future looks like, and you’ve got cold feet again?’

‘I…’ Somehow, his pushing back gave clarity. Thawn’s jaw dropped. No, she thought. No, I’m just angry with myself for not taking Logan more seriously. Instead, as the cold fear of the dark derelict teeming with drones began to gleam with a flame of her own indignant anger, she said, ‘Is that what you think of me?’

‘Am I wrong?’

She took a sharp step forward. ‘Is that what you’ve thought of me for the last month? That it was just… what, a diversion? A break from reality I’d undo the moment it got sticky?’

He set his jaw in a way she knew meant he was decreasingly certain but was about to be stubborn. ‘Well? Isn’t it?’ he asked, voice going rough.

‘No! I just almost died today, you idiot!’

‘And I had to stand on the bridge and couldn’t do anything!’

Had he held his ground with his accusatory stubbornness, she might not have felt it. Might not have heard the gleam of pain and fear in his voice that echoed her own. It rippled through the thread between them that hummed with more than words, the connection she sensed but he couldn’t. Misused, it was an intrusion or a distraction. If she let it brush against her senses at the right moment, it was a tether for her.

But not for him. No, if she felt it, she, the Betazoid, had to do the work to remind him. Sometimes that took subtlety. Sometimes that took working through his feelings with words so she didn’t jump to the end, risk either misjudging what emotions she’d thought she’d sensed or denying him the chance to work through them himself.

Tonight, all she had to do was give in. Because giving in meant stepping forward and bursting into tears on him.

It was, in some ways, inadequate. It came with no admission of mistake nor any explanation of the fault lines in themselves and their relationship their words had exposed. But after a day of terror and error, it was a release and an invitation. And as he wrapped his arms around her, giving in, too, it proved that beneath the doubt, guilt, and fear, it was all either of them truly needed right then.

Shepherd blinked hard as she entered the bridge. ‘Yikes, who turned the lights up in here?’

Kharth, sat in the command chair, glanced up. ‘I guess I did.’ She hadn’t thought about it much, just picked an illumination setting when she’d begun her shift. Now, at the end of long hours in the central seat, with Shepherd pointing it out, she realised why. The bridge of a Constitution III-class, with its cold metals, could get gloomy very quickly. The last thing she wanted right then was to see shadows out of the corner of her eyes. ‘It’s your shift, Shep, you can do what you want.’

‘No, hey, I respect you caring about our eye strain and all.’ Shepherd sauntered over from the turbolift, glancing around the bridge crew. ‘Anything to report?’

Kharth stood, shrugging. ‘We continue en route to Rencaris. No sign of the sky falling in.’

‘Sounds good.’ Shepherd shifted her feet. ‘Sir.’

Kharth tried not to scowl. There had been nothing wrong with their exchange. But it had felt, just out of habit, like she was the junior officer reporting to a superior who’d come to take on the bridge. It didn’t help that Shepherd would likely have been as casual with even Valance, respectful but relaxed, but it was another tug of discomfort on the chains of command. ‘Enjoy the nothing, Commander,’ she found herself saying, a hint of dismissal creeping in by reflex.

But before Shepherd could muster a manoeuvre of that comment, there was a chirrup at Airex’s console. The tall Trill looked up. ‘Commander?’

Both women turned and said, ‘Yes?’ at once, then froze.

To his credit, Airex’s expression didn’t shift. Either he didn’t care for their tension, or he was trying to manage it by acting normal. Kharth didn’t imagine he hadn’t noticed. ‘I’ve picked up the homing signal on long-range sensors. It’s not at Rencaris itself.’

‘That’s good,’ mused Shepherd. ‘Last thing we need is Borg tech falling on an independent world.’

‘On any world,’ added Kharth.

‘It’s not all good news,’ he pressed on. ‘There’s a reason we didn’t pick up this signal sooner. It’s definitely Borg, but there’s a deep-space plasma field out there. Whatever’s emitting the signal’s right inside it.’

Shepherd rolled her eyes. ‘Of course there is. How bad a plasma field?’

‘Level three. An ion storm is working across it as we speak. Which runs the risk of moving, damaging, or even destroying whatever’s emitting the signal, and shrouding the signal itself.’

‘You’re saying we better move quick,’ said Kharth, ‘except that moving quick inside a plasma field is a surefire way to have a bad day.’

Lindgren turned from her seat at helm. ‘We’re still eighteen hours out from the field.’

Shepherd glanced at Kharth. ‘Do we want to increase speed?’

You mean, you want to increase speed but it’s not your call. Kharth still set her hands on her hips. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘We’re already above cruising speed. If this is an emergency, then everything’s an emergency. I want to save power reserves in case we get an actual crisis. Airex, learn everything you can about the plasma field so we know what we’re dealing with when we get there. You have the bridge, Shepherd.’

‘You got it. Oh!’ Shep turned as Kharth headed to the lift. ‘Don’t forget dinner tonight.’

Kharth stopped. ‘Dinner?’

‘Yeah!’ Shepherd glanced from her to Airex and Lindgren. ‘Senior staff dinner. Round Table.’

Oh yes. That social bonding exercise you keep pretending is Valance’s idea. ‘Right. Dinner.’

‘1930 hours!’ Shepherd called, her voice cut off by the turbolift doors sliding shut behind Kharth.

She closed her eyes. ‘Deck 12.’ It wasn’t that she disliked the idea of dinner with the senior staff. She’d known most of them for years. She had, at worst, learnt how to tolerate them. But Kharth preferred to knuckle down and focus on work, not get shoved into a dinner party and do small talk when the Borg rampaged across the sector.

Except the Borg weren’t rampaging. Except they had another day’s travel ahead of them, or more, depending on the intensity of this plasma field. Except Kharth was good at keeping busy in mental and physical preparation for a crisis, but many officers would stare at the bulkheads and wind themselves tighter and tighter as they waited. Except thinking of holding events such as this was part of why Shepherd had been brought in at all.

Despite all of that, Kharth knew better than to try to beat Shep at her own game. This was still a crisis, and she knew how to deal with those. She knew how to manage personnel through them. Even if that was about to mean acknowledging a gaffe she’d have rather ignored.

She hadn’t been down to the security offices much since leaving the post of security chief. It would have been too easy to become the kind of XO she had always hated when she was a department head, micromanaging and domineering. That she’d been trying to keep her distance from Logan had, of course, helped.

He had his alpha team in the security briefing room. The screen behind him showed the camera footage from Qadir’s EV suit on the derelict, the young lieutenant sat on the front low, rather sallow-faced.

‘…we learn from this,’ Logan was saying as she slid into the back. If he noticed her, he didn’t let on. ‘I know that this is hitting close to home for all of you. But this isn’t Frontier Day. The Collective can’t snap their fingers and turn you against your own. Turn your friends against you. We have to be vigilant of the Borg as an enemy who will adapt to our every move, but also can’t, can’t turn them into the bogeyman who can and will do anything, no matter what we do. And we adapt, too. Next time will be different.’ Now he noticed her, straightened, and nodded to his team. ‘That’s all. Any of you want to talk, you know where to find me. I don’t bench you for expressing fear. I want to know where your heads are at. That’s how we get through this – ‘cos we’ve got our own collective, too. You’re dismissed.’

Kharth gave the security officers polite nods as they filed out, but waited before they were all gone before she advanced to the front. ‘Qadir looked like he wanted to throw up.’

‘He thinks he screwed up back there.’ Logan shrugged. ‘I don’t think he liked me shining a light on everything that happened, even if he comes out of it looking pretty good.’

‘Looking better than me.’ She tried to not tighten her jaw. She couldn’t let guilt immobilise her. ‘Be honest: how would you grade my performance?’

Logan hesitated. Then he said, ‘Shooting that drone was a dumb-ass thing to do.’

‘I know.’

‘And most people who make that kind of mistake don’t live to tell the tale.’

‘Alright, alright, you’ve made your point.’ She raised her hands, knowing she couldn’t be too defensive when she asked. ‘So, acknowledging that I screwed up… if I were Chief of Security and my XO had benched me for a mission like that, I’d have kicked up a storm. But here you are, patting your officers on the back and bucking them up for what comes next.’

‘You missed the part where we’re modifying all our phasers and I’m running drills so they train to modulate their own frequency faster. That came first.’ Logan turned away. He took his time switching off the briefing room display, picking up PADDs stacked on the lectern. ‘If I had kicked up a storm at you – before or after – would it have made a difference?’

‘I know this is going to sound pretty empty, considering. But I’m not your superiors from Intel, shuffling you off the moment you have a thought because they don’t really trust an xB.’

‘You’re right, that does sound empty, seeing as you’ve doubted me on the first occasion you could.’

She winced, not because of his words, but because of his tone – empty, accepting. He wasn’t angry at her. He was, if anything, disappointed. But he wasn’t surprised. ‘The galaxy’s changing, Logan. Starfleet’s changing. Half the crew are xBs.’

‘It’s not the same, and you know it.’ Now he turned, hand on the lectern, and at last, a gleam of frustration entered his eye. ‘I appreciate you coming down here, Commander, but I don’t know what you want from me.’

‘I’m sorry. Okay? I was wrong to bench you.’ She sighed. ‘We’re not going to beat the Borg if we don’t listen to our expert. The mission made that clear. Whatever comes next, whatever we do, we want you at the heart of it. The captain and me. Not just helping Cortez with the tech, but operational matters. Everything.’

Logan’s expression didn’t shift. ‘Okay.’

He didn’t believe her. The frustration of that made it easier to push forward. ‘But yeah, that does mean we need some things from you. You’ve got to be – I can’t believe I’m saying this – more constructive.’

‘More constructive.’

‘We can’t just not use the AIP,’ Kharth exclaimed. ‘We can’t just not investigate these signals. Because if we leave it all alone, it surely gets worse. You keep talking like you’d rather we ignored everything and hope the Borg come sweep up their tech and maybe leave us alone, and to hell with what this Cube is after.’

He tilted his head, brow furrowing. ‘Even if we find out what this Cube was after, what do we do about it?’

‘I don’t know. I don’t know what it is.’

‘Say Cortez is wrong, and they were looking for a world to assimilate. Do you think the Collective will give up just because this Cube didn’t get there?’ He stepped around the lectern, hand still atop it. ‘You think they won’t just send another? What do we do then?’

‘I don’t know,’ she said hotly. ‘But in that case, knowing ahead of time gives us a chance.’

‘A chance to what?’

‘I don’t know! Hell, evacuate, if you want to take the stance that we can’t do anything!’

‘We can’t.’ Logan shook his head. ‘I don’t want Borg tech falling in the wrong hands. I’m worried that Beckett and Thawn picked up word of it being traded at Sot Thryfar. I got no doubts that signals like the ones we’re after might get chased by all the worst people. But we really can’t kid ourselves, Kharth: we ain’t Picard. We ain’t Janeway. And this ain’t just an enemy we can bullrush through willpower.’

‘This is it,’ said Kharth, pointing at the deck. ‘This is why I was worried about using you. You’ve accepted your helplessness, haven’t you? Because if you’re helpless, completely helpless about the Borg, then it’s not your fault, right?’ He flinched at that, and her chin tilted up. ‘I’m not stupid. I don’t think we fight them and win. I think we find every fine margin, and we scrape every little iota of success wherever we find it. I think we scrap to survive, or to cheat them, or delay them. That’s what we did on Frontier Day, right? Where’s that Jack Logan? Or does he only come out against the Borg when he doesn’t have time to think?’ He was silent, stunned, and that took some of the heat out of her. Her shoulders slumped. ‘Are you okay, Logan?’

He stared. Then he looked away and laughed bitterly. ‘Oh, nobody opened that can of worms yet, Kharth. ‘Course I’m not. But that ain’t the point.’

‘You were just telling your officers that they get through this by sticking together. Was that a lie?’ She took a step forward. ‘Or do you need someone to convince you of it?’

Logan drew a slow, raking breath. ‘Hope, in the face of the Borg,’ he said at length, ‘always sounds a hell of a lot like delusion. I didn’t think I was lying to them. But I maybe was deluded, yeah.’

‘I should have brought you in sooner, if I’m here talking about togetherness,’ Kharth admitted. ‘But the way I see it, you’ve got two options: you keep talking about how we can’t so much as look at the Borg funny, how we’re not Picard or Janeway, how we can’t kid ourselves, and I’ll bench you and put Qadir in your job until this is over. Because if anyone’s earned the right to not saddle up against their demons, it’s you.’

He stiffened at that, the prospect clearly sobering. ‘Or?’

‘Or you’re here. Part of the team. Answering directly to me, directly to Valance. An expert we turn to first, and one we listen to. And you have to at least pretend that there’s hope.’ She watched as he stared at nothing for a moment, his gaze only eventually rising to hers, and she said, ‘Be as kind to yourself as you’re being to your team.’

‘Wow,’ said Logan at length. ‘I know we didn’t meet all that long ago, Kharth, but I never thought you’d be ordering one of your officers to “be kind to themselves.”’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Do we have a deal?’

There was a pause. Then he nodded. ‘Deal.’

‘Good,’ she said. ‘Because if we’re going to beat the Borg, we’ll have to take one trick out of their book – and learn how to adapt. All of us.’

The captain’s quarters were not big enough for her to host a dozen people, so when Shepherd had asked about holding dinner for the senior staff, Valance had rather brusquely suggested she block out the Round Table on the schedule and host it there. After, she’d worried if it would feel or look incongruous to have dinner together around what would have to be a very large table in a lounge.

She needn’t have worried. Shepherd had many talents, and it turned out that organising social events was one of them. The Round Table had been cleared of needless seating area, alcoves had been hidden away by judicious use of drapes, and the bar had been turned into a station from which the holographic staff could bring the food and drinks to the table. While the lounge now stretched long and thin, reaching from the door to the far exterior bulkhead with the tall windows Shepherd had decided not to block off, the room did not feel incongruous as a dining space, the art deco style and rearrangements reminding Valance of an establishment like the Foxglove cocktail bar on Gateway.

Against her instincts to be punctual rather than early, Valance made sure she was the first one there once Shep was done with the rearrangements, knowing she should be ready to act as host. ‘This looks good, Commander.’

Shepherd stood by the table, trying to manipulate the lighting from a PADD. ‘Thanks, Cap. I’m trying to get it cosy, but not so cosy we can’t see what we’re eating, y’know?’

‘It’ll be fine.’ Valance looked at the table. ‘Where do you want me?’

‘Ah, see – we’ve got drinks at the bar first. Because when we’re twelve people, you can’t talk to someone down the other end. Then we go to the table when food’s up.’

Valance silently counted. ‘Twelve?’

‘I…’ Shepherd froze. ‘Yeah. I invited Commander Cortez. That was okay, right?’

‘Right.’ Valance blinked. ‘That’s appropriate. Yes.’ She turned to her, eager to not linger on this point. ‘It was good of you to think of this. To organise this.’

‘Well, I figure everyone’s on tenterhooks, especially after the derelict. We could do with unwinding. And the whole team still feels like it’s settling – I know some of you have been together years, but not always in these roles, and there’s some new faces…’

‘And I’m new to the captaincy,’ Valance summarised. ‘And haven’t been making social time for the senior staff.’ Rourke would have, she thought. He just managed to do it so it didn’t feel like it was scheduled or forced. When he’d first come aboard, he’d organised things like a comedy night in the mess hall – open to everyone, but the senior staff knew they were expected to be there. Even with his sometimes grumpy exterior, Rourke knew how to handle people, knew how to handle a crowd.

‘You’ve had a lot on your plate,’ Shepherd allowed graciously.

‘I know this is a step down for you, Commander. Coming aboard as third-in-command when you were once XO here, when you had your own ship out of Gateway…’

‘It’s a thing to adapt to, that’s for sure.’ Finished with the lights, Shepherd put the PADD to one side and dusted her hands. ‘Don’t get me wrong. I want to get stuck in more than I can. I want to be the one leading the away missions. I’m still finding my feet on what I am doing and what I’m not doing. But I’m happy to be here. I wasn’t leading my own ship on Gateway, I was doing paperwork and once in a while taking the Tempest on milk runs.’

‘Would you have left Endeavour if you’d known the squadron was going to turn out like this? You thought you’d be running point on the sorts of operations that are now being handled by the Ranger or even the Swiftsure…’

Shepherd blew out her cheeks and turned to face her. ‘Probably not. But it was your choice, too, and you didn’t ask me to stay. Then you took on K as your XO, which nobody saw coming. Can’t pretend it doesn’t make things awkward for me to now be back, and answering to her.’’

Valance winced. ‘Should we tell her?’

‘Do you think it’d help?’

The unspoken hung between them, and despite having opened the box, Valance was relieved when the doors slid open, and the first of her officers began to arrive. Commander Perrek led the way, enthusiastically jabbering about the implications for Endeavour’s systems by entering the plasma field to an indulgent Cortez and Airex. Cortez only offered a polite, awkward nod towards the command officers, but Airex glanced at Valance, spotting that the tension had preceded them. She shook her head and let the evening begin.

The others arrived shortly after, with Kharth and Logan taking up the rear. They seemed somehow both more at ease and more formal with each other, which Valance decided to take as a sign they were working together successfully. She was doubly relieved when Logan detached from her to swoop down at Kally, the youngest and most junior of the senior staff, rarely daunted by anything so insignificant as social awkwardness if out of her depth, but someone who stirred a protective instinct in Valance nevertheless.

Shepherd advanced to join not just Kharth, but to drag Cortez in her wake, and with a hint of relief, Valance headed for Airex and Perrek. ‘I think Commander Shepherd made the invitations clear on one rule, gentlemen: shop talk is to be kept to a minimum.’ She tried to be as jocular as she was capable.

Even though Perrek was the culprit and she didn’t have a new conversation topic to replace it with, the genial engineer beamed. ‘That’s my free pass,’ he told Airex with delight.

‘Oh, no,’ the Trill groaned.

‘Free pass?’ said Valance.

‘It’s time for first day at the new school pictures.’ Perrek’s grin, if possible, widened, and he pulled out his PADD. ‘Sorkis and Thiala were pretty mad about moving schools again, so the pics are awful, really awful…’ With all the pride of a father knowing how much his children would be horrified and embarrassed, likely enough to sense the occasion over the dozens of light-years, he turned the PADD and began showing off.

Valance considered herself to have the maternal instincts of a hamster, but Perrek was the right mixture of proud and self-aware to make sharing his family endearing rather than tiresome. She also knew it was hard for the engineer, who’d moved from an Odyssey-class assignment where he could keep his whole family together to come to the Midgard Sector, leave his husband and wife and children at Gateway, and board Endeavour, where he might go weeks without seeing them.

‘I’m sure you miss them,’ she said kindly as Perrek finished an anecdote of Sorkis’s rebellion against moving assignments.

‘Always,’ said Perrek lightly. ‘But Kyran wasn’t with us on the Sirius. That’s the perk of triad parenting, Dav, Captain.’

‘What,’ said Airex with a hint of humour, ‘you can tag out for a year or so?’

‘Exactly!’ Perrek beamed.

Valance smiled, allowing her attention to drift from the two men to the rest of the crowd. They’d started in their comfortable knots of friendship – Lindgren and Thawn, Winters and Beckett, Cortez and Kharth and Shepherd – but already had begun to shift and mingle when Shepherd eventually clapped her hands and said, ‘Right, grub’s up.’

It was ostensibly a snub of etiquette to not have Cortez, as a senior officer and valued guest, seated to Valance’s left at the table. But Shepherd was smarter than that, throwing any formal seating plan out of the window. She’d allocated places on what Valance suspected she would describe only as ‘vibes,’ which meant Cortez was halfway down the table with Lindgren – the most neutral of people to sit her with – and Valance was flanked by Winters and Logan at the top.

Does Shep think I need to know these two better? she wondered, but had little time to linger on the thought because Winters – perhaps sufficiently anxious he’d prepared for senior staff dinner like it was a final medical examination – took only one mouthful of food before looking at Logan and saying, ‘So, Commander, I hear you like… horses?’

Logan, wine glass halfway to his lips, paused at that. ‘I like horses. I grew up around horses. Horses don’t like me so much these days.’

Valance blinked. ‘Horses react to your implants?’

‘Damned if I know. I love ‘em, but they’ve got huge muscles and walnut-sized brains. Might be I smell funny, might be they think this -’ He tapped his ocular implant, ‘-is just too shiny to be trusted.’

Winters looked horrified that his conversation topic had backfired. ‘I’m sorry.’

Logan shrugged. ‘It ain’t like I’ve had much chance to be around ‘em lately, so maybe I had a foul couple experiences. The ones on the holodeck behave. If I got home, maybe had a creature to bond with, it’d be different.’

Aware she was on delicate ground, Valance stabbed a potato and said, ‘Where’s home, Commander?’

‘Kentucky. Hence, I figure, the Doc’s guess I’m a horse sorta man?’ Logan gave Winters a lopsided smile.

‘That, and you made a riding analogy of some sort before our Koperion landing party set off,’ Winters explained apologetically.

Logan nodded, tucking into his food and glancing at Valance. ‘You’re from Cantelle, right, Captain?’

‘Cantelle Colony. Yes.’

Winters frowned. ‘That’s near the Klingon border?’

‘Bit of a wilderness, ain’t it?’ Logan’s brow furrowed in recollection. ‘Rough place to grow up.’

‘I didn’t spend my whole childhood there.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Winters jumped in. ‘How is Gov?’

‘My brother,’ she explained for Logan’s benefit. ‘Happy, I think, to be able to serve Klingon-Federation relations without needing to be in a Starfleet uniform. Unhappy, I think, to be somewhat benched at Gateway.’

‘I would think the Empire would want a rep out here,’ Logan mused. ‘They don’t want Borg tech getting out of hand.’

‘Careful, Commander,’ Valance said wryly. ‘You’ll break Shep’s rule about talking shop.’

But he grinned and changed the subject. At first meeting, Valance had thought him surprisingly gregarious for an xB, always willing to reach out to people, always knowing what to say. Further exposure suggested two things: he worked hard so other people did the bulk of the talking, listening actively but letting them speak about themselves, always a reliable trick in putting people at ease. And he was working very hard – and very consciously – to keep conversations flowing, not falling into awkward topics, not letting himself be awkward. Perhaps it had once come naturally, but now, if she looked closely, she could see navigating social movement was like tensing a muscle. She recognised it in him because, while he was smoother, more discreet about it, she did the same. And more so since becoming captain.

Dinner gave way to drinks and a return to mingling, though Valance kept herself at the top of the table so others could join her, rather than butting in. When Airex sat with her first, she didn’t think much of it; they had long been friends. Lindgren joining in for a time similarly did not impact her; the young officer was one of the most socially capable and relaxed of the whole staff.

But as people moved in and out of conversations, and as the evening began to wind down, Valance realised that almost everyone had sat and talked with her, if only a little, and none had acted as if this was an obligation. Thawn had been awkward until Beckett had swept in with jokes to save her, but Thawn was always awkward with superiors. Kally had enthused about her Academy days when Valance had politely asked, and Shep had even adjudicated when Kharth had sat there and they had, for lack of better topics, discussed combat workouts. In a crowd like this, it would have been easy for anyone to not go over, but her crew had spoken with her and shared the space with her like it was natural.

‘Thank you all for coming,’ she said when she checked the time and found it late. ‘You should all get a good night’s sleep. And thank you, Commander Shepherd, for organising this.’

‘I just wanted a fancy shindig; next time, it’s dress uniforms,’ Shep threatened with a grin, and the evening began to wind down.

Even though it was Shepherd’s occasion, Valance thought she should see everyone out. Then, with half the staff gone, she realised Cortez was among the last, finishing up drinks with Shepherd, and when Valance made awkward but intentional eye contact, the engineer lingered. Shep must have spotted this, saying something about needing to wash her carpet before she exited the lounge and left the two of them alone.

Cutlery clattered as Valance needlessly piled up her plate to set it to one side and got to her feet. ‘I appreciate you joining us, Commander,’ she said, words feeling too big for her mouth, like her tongue was numb. ‘I know a lot of the staff appreciate having you around -’

Cortez winced. ‘Can, uh, can we not, Karana?’ She stood at the foot of the table, hands on the back of the chair Kharth had been sitting at. ‘Nobody else is here.’

Valance’s hand dropped. ‘Alright,’ she said, and didn’t know where to look. Or what to say. At length, she added, ‘How’ve you been?’

A short, toneless laugh answered her. Valance knew it was at the situation, not her, but it still stung. ‘Rebuilding Deneb. Retrieving Breen captives with the Ranger. And you…’ She waved a hand across the table, then softened. ‘Congratulations. Captain. This is what you really wanted, after all, isn’t it? Ever since MacCallister went.’

‘That was a long time ago.’ Valance shifted her feet. ‘Congratulations on your promotion, too. It was overdue.’ But only silence met her words, and she drew a deep breath. ‘I thought we should talk.’

Cortez blinked at that, stiffening. ‘Alright. What do you want to talk about?’

Valance blinked. ‘I don’t know. You’re on my ship. We have a job to do. We’re both professionals and grown-ups. I thought we should… check in.’

A pause. ‘Is that it?’

‘Is that what?’

‘Two years, and then we’re back here, and when you say you want to talk, all you have is “we have a job to do?”’

‘What else should I be saying?’ Valance gestured down the table. ‘What do you want to say?’

‘You wanted this conversation. The great thing about us not being together any more, Karana, is that I don’t have to do the emotional heavy lifting for you. You can’t just start the conversation and wait for me to fill in the blanks. You have to actually do something.’

Valance tensed. ‘You’re still angry at me for leaving.’

‘You’re damn right I am! And now you’re just… back!’ Cortez waved a hand. ‘Shooting off to Pathfinder, and then you’re captain of Endeavour…’

‘Nobody could have predicted this was how it’d turn out!’

‘No,’ Cortez allowed. ‘But it’s funny how you make your choices and get everything you want.’ In the silence that followed, she sighed. ‘I know how to do my job. We’re both capable of being professional when we work together. I’m not here to make things weird. But beyond that? I’m not here to emotionally hold your hand through the hard stuff.’

Valance swallowed. I wanted to abandon the battle plan and race across the Izar system to rescue the Triumph when I knew you were in trouble. I wanted to ram the Borg derelict with this ship if it would have saved you. But those were all big things, and the big things weren’t what brought them down. Everything else was a murky soup of emotions, complicated and blending together, and she didn’t know what was guilt and what was sincerity. Counsellor Carraway had once pointed out that learning to speak about your feelings was like learning another language; you had to develop the vocabulary to encapsulate what you meant.

Only she wasn’t sure what she meant, and she knew she was deeply, deeply out of practice.

‘You’ve got an SCE Team,’ Valance said eventually. ‘Freedom to work across a sector, across a squadron. You’re the foremost engineering authority in one of the most important formations of the quadrant, of the fleet. That’s rather good, isn’t it?’

It was perhaps for the best that her commbadge chirruped before Cortez could reply, from the flash of anger in her eye. ‘Bridge to Captain Valance.’

Athaka always sounded apologetic, but on this occasion, he was probably right. Valance caught Cortez rolling her eyes as she immediately went to answer and pretended not to notice. ‘Go ahead.’

‘There’s a Romulan ship approaching on long-range sensors – we’ve ID’d it as Republic. They’ve hailed us.’ Athaka hesitated. ‘Their commander’s asking us to back down from the plasma field. They say the Borg wreckage inside is theirs.’

Valance brought a hand to her temple and sighed. ‘I’ll be right there.’ She looked back at Cortez as the comm went dead. ‘I have to answer this.’

Despite all the frustration – and, as Valance felt, irrationality of Cortez so far in the conversation – the engineer had sobered and focused up. ‘Of course you do,’ she said, without a shred of passive aggression. ‘After all, it’s time.’

‘Time?’ Valance headed for the door and was faintly relieved when Cortez fell into step beside her.

‘Sure,’ said Cortez. ‘Time for the Midgard Sector to explode into a rat race for technology nobody is equipped to handle.’

Valance found her throat tensing with apprehension as the Romulan warbird rose before Endeavour’s viewscreen. Although everything had identified it as a ship of the Romulan Republic, their neighbours and allies, her encounters in past years had been more hostile than not.

‘ID is RRW Ihhliae,’ Kally said, a little breathless. ‘Republic.’

Kharth’s head snapped around. ‘Did you check against our records?’

‘I… no.’

‘Always check, Ensign.’

You really are learning how to be an XO, Valance thought mirthlessly, before shaking her head. ‘Just patch us through.’

Kally nodded, abashed, and the viewscreen changed a moment later for the stern, sharp features of a Romulan woman in the uniform of the Republic Navy. The bridge behind her looked worn, with obvious repairs over metal – nothing fresh, but clearly, they could not acquire standard parts to replace what was lost over time. ‘This is Commander Morvith of the Romulan Republic. I’m surprised to see Starfleet venturing further than their fortification.’

‘Captain Valance, USS Endeavour. As discussed with Republic sector command, Starfleet’s here to aid in the rebuild of the Midgard Sector -’

But before she could elaborate, Morvith had swept a hand. ‘The Mesea Storm does not seem in much need of rebuilding. Let’s not fork our tongues, Captain. You’re here, like we are, for the signal.’

Valance tried to not bristle. ‘We are.’

‘Whatever’s emitting it is far closer to Republic space than Starfleet. We share responsibility for the sector now, Captain. My ship has this.’

Kharth stepped forward before Valance could answer. ‘This is a moment where what our superiors negotiated might not reflect the reality of being out here, Commander. Do you want to come aboard so we can discuss this properly?’

Morvith’s eyes raked over her. Valance suspected she’d assumed Kharth was a Vulcan and was taken aback by being proven wrong. At length, she nodded. ‘I’ll beam over. Ihhliae out.’

Kharth blew out her cheeks as the screen went dead. ‘She didn’t come to play.’

‘Do you know her?’ Valance asked, then narrowed her eyes at Kharth’s suspicious look. ‘By reputation or reports, Commander; I’m not asking if you know all Romulans.’

‘No,’ Kharth said. ‘But she lured you into justifying Starfleet’s presence in the sector so she could imply you were covering up why we’re here and look like the one being open and honest. I think she’ll try to claim the moral high ground in this salvage mission.’ Then she winced. ‘Be prepared. She’s looking at you like a Klingon.’

Valance rubbed her temple. ‘Report to Transporter Room 2 and welcome her aboard, Commander. Cortez, Logan, you’re with me. Airex, study their ship; if they know this plasma field enough to name it, they may have made preparations we could learn from. Shep – you have the bridge.’

Only once they were in the Conference Room did Logan speak. ‘Where do you want me, Captain? And how vocal?’ She glanced at him, and he shrugged. ‘Am I a stick, your security-Borg showing you’ve got skin in the game, or am I an expert you want weighing in?’

‘An expert,’ Valance said quickly. ‘I’m not here to lie.’

Logan winced. ‘Don’t let the Republic’s commitment to democracy obscure the fact they’re still Romulans. I’m not saying they’re duplicitous, but… they’ll play to win.’

Cortez winced. ‘We’ve already nearly gotten ourselves killed playing with Borg tech, and Starfleet knows more about it than anyone. This stuff in the wrong hands…’

Valance nodded. ‘I know. We’ll see what she has to say.’

The doors slid open soon, and in came Kharth and Commander Morvith. She was a tall woman, almost as tall as Valance, in the more rough-and-ready uniform of the Republic but with a severe haircut and beady eyes. She glanced at the rest of the attendees. ‘I didn’t realise you’d bring half your staff, Captain.’

Yes, you did, Valance thought, and sat up. ‘This is Commander Cortez, Corps of Engineers, and Commander Logan, Chief of Security. Please, have a seat.’

‘Ah,’ said Morvith, easing into the chair across from the Starfleet officers. ‘I understand; you want your experts around you.’ She made it sound condescending but pressed on before the point lingered. Looking Valance in the eye, she said, ‘Starfleet doesn’t have the right to all Borg technology.’

‘I didn’t say we did. But there’s nothing in any of our agreements with the Republic about proximity dictating authority, either.’

Morvith shrugged. ‘Of course there is. With Rator collapsed, this area is nothing but a wilderness and you know it. That’s why we’re here. But we have, just as you do, a right – a duty – to protect our borders. It looks like Starfleet has its hands full enough near Lockney. Why extend yourselves this far out when we can deal with it?’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you,’ said Valance. ‘But we’re here now.’

‘I see.’ Morvith leaned back and shook her head with a gleam of disbelief Valance assumed was affected. ‘As ever, Starfleet plays high and mighty with the secrets of the universe. You’re fresh off the Borg compromising half your fleet, but you’re the only ones who can be trusted with their technology?’

‘I’ve no interest in dictating the Republic’s access to Borg technology.’

‘Your superiors clearly do, or you wouldn’t be here.’

Cortez leaned forward at that, and Valance tried to not flinch as she plainly read her uncertainty and stepped in. It was unlikely anyone else could see through her masks, especially not Morvith, but it was a vulnerability she didn’t want in this moment. ‘This technology is incredibly volatile, especially as it’s active enough to send out a signal. It shouldn’t be chased or used lightly.’

‘You mean,’ said Morvith, gaze sliding over to her, ‘only Starfleet has the technical know-how to handle the Borg? I suppose that’s only true since Federation citizens destroyed the Artifact.’ She shrugged. ‘Don’t get me wrong, I’ve no qualms with the Free State losing access to such a potential weapon. But it was awfully convenient for Starfleet, too, wasn’t it?’

‘This isn’t about politics,’ said Logan, chin tilting up. ‘The Borg are -’

‘Dangerous?’ Morvith’s eyebrows went up. ‘Thank you for the warning, USS Endeavour. This is a very dangerous place with very dangerous technology. I shall take all due care, just as I’m sure Starfleet has with debris that’s much more your problem. Do you have anything to say besides trying to scare me off?’

Valance looked about her senior staff with a sharp look to shut them up. ‘This isn’t about scaring you off, Commander. My orders are, like yours, to answer these homing signals and make sure they’re secure. I’d be failing in those orders if I didn’t come out here.’

‘Ah yes, the part where we’re both creatures of duty, bound by our unfeeling superiors.’ Morvith waved a hand like she was conducting a tune. ‘The truth is that your unfeeling superiors think that my unfeeling superiors are backwater scum, allied to the Federation only because we’re preferable to the Romulan alternatives. That we’re in a scientific dark age from the fall of Romulus, and can’t possibly be trusted with these dark secrets any more than you’d trust a pre-warp primitive with a phaser. Is this one of your Prime Directive moments?’

‘This has nothing to do with the Prime Directive -’

‘I assumed that was why the USS Endeavour destroyed the Erem at Teros?’ As the room went stiff, Morvith cocked her head. ‘Was that also not to stop dark powers from falling into the wrong hands – non-Starfleet hands?’

Since becoming a starship captain, Valance had given little time or thought to the matter of the Omega Directive. Nearly two years ago, the particle had appeared near Teros, breaking down their humanitarian mission and setting in motion the chain of events that had left its people in their most recent swathe of distrust for Starfleet. ‘This has nothing to do with the Erem.’

‘I see. It was your last commander who did that. And nothing to do with you.’

Valance leaned forward and looked Morvith in the eye. ‘On the contrary. I fired the shots that destroyed it.’ She’d not known what Omega was, then. She’d only had her captain’s unfathomable orders and followed him in a leap of faith that had kept her up at night. Understanding his decision years later was little comfort for how she’d acted without even half the truth.

Morvith’s gaze took on that condescending glint again, and Valance was sure her eyes went to her forehead ridges. ‘Of course you did. An honourable victory?’

‘This is different,’ said Valance, not rising to the bait.

Morvith watched her a moment. Then she pushed back from her chair. ‘In which case, I see no reason my ship should not continue on its mission into the Mesea Storm and answer the signal. If all you have is some thinly veiled threats and some domineering presumptions of Starfleet supremacy, this primitive is going to go play with fire. Thank you, Captain.’

Grimacing, Valance stood. ‘Endeavour will proceed to intercept the signal, Commander.’

‘Do as you must. I appreciate your honesty on that, at least. Thank you for the meeting.’ Oddly, Valance thought Morvith sounded sincere. Then, her eye turned on Endeavour’s XO. ‘I particularly liked the part where you, Saeihr t’Kharth, said absolutely nothing at all as the Federation shuts doors in the face of your people’s only hope for a free future.’

Logan glanced back and forth at that. ‘I’ll escort you out.’

‘Very good,’ said Morvith, then looked him up and down. ‘You must be very grateful Starfleet has the access it does to Borg technology. You look in a remarkably better state than the many xBs who live in the Republic. Imagine what we could do for them?’

‘I understand what you’re doing,’ said Logan with a wince. ‘But I’m the wrong audience for that tack. I’d rather be crazy or dead than Starfleet used any Borg tech.’

‘Ah. You do have unfeeling superiors.’ Morvith clicked her tongue. ‘Terribly sorry, Commander. Carry on.’

Cortez closed her eyes as the two left. ‘…it is Starfleet policy, right now, that we hoover up Borg tech first and worry about the politics later. We’ve got no damn clue what’s on the other end of that signal.’

‘I know,’ said Valance. ‘And if I told her the truth, she’d want access to what we know, and we’re not allowed to share that, either. But she’s right: we’ve no moral high ground to enforce this position. We’re just lucky the Alpha Wreck didn’t end up another few dozen light-years along and crash into Republic territory, or we’d have a second Artifact on our hands.’ She looked over at Kharth, and her jaw tightened. ‘Commander?’

‘I’m here, don’t worry.’ Kharth was looking at the door, stony-faced. ‘I’ve no allegiance to the Republic any more than you do to the Klingon Empire. Less. I never lived there.’

But the future of the Klingon people isn’t in any doubt. Still, Valance nodded. ‘I’m going to contact Rourke. I can’t negotiate access to the technology without giving Morvith something, and I need permission for that. But in the meantime, I think we’ve got a race on our hands.’

Cortez frowned. ‘If we’re hot-footing it into the Mesea Storm to get there before the Ihhliae, that gives us basically no time to get an answer back from Lockney. There’s no way we’ll pick up a signal in there.’

‘I know,’ said Valance. ‘But I have to try.’

‘Which means, realistically,’ said Kharth, ‘we’re on our own in there.’

‘There’s no such thing as using it safely.’

‘Okay, but safer has gotta be possible, right? I’m not talking certainties, I’m talking percentages.’

‘Those are percentages where people die.’

Beckett stared at the holographic display of the SOC, the map of the Midgard Sector spilling out before him, and tried to block out the sound of Cortez and Logan arguing. But when he reached up to open the newest report from the USS Ranger, the ping! of the system was a lot louder than he’d intended.

That, at least, shut them up. Logan folded his arms across his chest and looked from the display to Cortez. ‘We’re interrupting the kid’s work.’

‘No,’ said Beckett weakly. ‘I do my best analysis with a raging argument with no end going on around me.’

Cortez sighed and rubbed her temples. ‘Sorry. We keep going in circles. I hear you, Logan, I do – damn, you think nearly getting Borged on that wreck didn’t make it clear as day you can’t screw around with this stuff? But we’ve got a mission that’s come down from squadron command, and operational policies that come from even higher, and both say that we gotta use the AIP.’

Logan turned back to the display. Beckett wasn’t sure if it was the cool lighting of the star map or the rigours of the last week, but he looked more gaunt, his cheeks more hollow. ‘I know,’ he sighed at last. ‘I’d just sooner we shot the thing into space.’

‘An’ if wishes were horses, the Borg would be galloping themselves into every sun.’ Cortez shrugged. ‘If you and I are gonna work together, which we should, then looks like we need some ground rules. So how about this: I’ll listen to your warnings, so long as you accept the premise that we will be poking the Borg?’

Beckett felt they’d been here before, perhaps an hour ago. Then discussions of the intricacies had led to one or both feeling challenged and retreating to their entrenched positions. He sighed, sweeping the Ranger’s report to one side and reaching to bring up the next files. ‘Assuming we’re about to work and not just argue,’ he said carefully, ‘I have the latest reports from Fourth Fleet Intelligence on emerging encounters with Borg technology.’

They read in silence. Eventually, Logan looked at Cortez. ‘That thing ain’t giving off a signal, is it?’

‘I shut that the hell down,’ Cortez said grimly. ‘No transponder for them to beam to here. God, this is awful. I do hear you, Logan – I get why you hate this stuff.’ As he shifted, she sighed. ‘Okay, maybe I don’t get it, get it. But I hear you. But… Starfleet policy says otherwise. We baked Borg tech into the Sagan, and we’re gonna keep doing things like that. And right now, we need to use their stuff against them.’

‘Right now, we need to act like we’re morally superior to the Romulan Republic and can be trusted with this stuff while they can’t.’ Logan rubbed his temples. ‘Okay. Obviously, when we get to the signal, we detach any node from any other systems. Ideally at range, with a tractor beam or…’

‘Or a worker bee,’ Cortez mused.

‘Right. Secondly, we gotta work on some sort of shutdown protocol for the AIP.’

‘We can integrate something I can activate to kill its power source. Independent of its other operations, I mean.’

‘Sure, but the hard part is if something like last time happens, it might start to draw from the power source of the system it’s connected to,’ said Logan. ‘Even if you’d pulled the AIP last time, that wouldn’t have stopped what happened.’

She nodded and turned to Beckett. ‘Can you send me these reports? We should get to work down in the lab.’

‘I’ll fling them over,’ Beckett said lightly, relieved at the prospect of the two unhappy officers moving on. As they left, he set about packaging the relevant files together, finally alone in the SOC to focus on his work. The past few days had consisted of getting settled; it had been some months since he’d seriously worked in the facilities. While Shepherd handled most of the liaising with the rest of the squadron, there was a galaxy of Borg activity out there and more rumbles from the various surveillance infrastructures of the Midgard Sector.

They were less than an hour out from entering the Mesea Storm, which would invariably disrupt their communications, so Beckett nearly jumped when the system flashed up with an incoming external call. It was uncommon enough for any such comms to be rerouted directly to him at the SOC, and he hadn’t thought he was a priority at the moment anyway.

His throat tightened as he read the specifics. Inbound from the USS Swiftsure. At the highest level of security he held. Beckett swallowed, then reached to accept the call. ‘Captain Faust?’

It was, indeed, the Swiftsure’s CO and squadron deputy commander. They had never met, Faust joining the squadron just as Beckett had left for the Synnef Nebula, but her name had featured prominently in the intelligence reports he’d caught up on. Pale eyes stood out against dark hair and strong cheekbones, and the holographic image of her, hovering in the middle of the main display, took a beat before she spoke. ‘Lieutenant Beckett. This meeting is overdue.’

Beckett gave a lopsided smile. Distantly, he was aware of the SOC doors sealing themselves automatically in acknowledgement of the security of the comm line. ‘Just as Endeavour’s going into a blackout zone? I’m honoured you prioritised me.’

‘I’ve read Captain Valance’s report to Commodore Rourke. But Swiftsure is much closer than Redemption, so I’m in a position to respond, and no answer from him will reach you before you enter the storm.’

‘What can I do for you?’

The image of Faust leaned forward. ‘Lieutenant. As Chief Intelligence Officer of the USS Endeavour, you are directed to take all necessary measures to ensure Borg technology does not fall into the hands of the Romulan Republic.’

He swallowed. ‘Can, uh, I ask why you’re having this conversation with me and not Captain Valance?’

‘There are chains of command,’ Faust said vaguely. ‘But in matters of national security – information gathering and analysis, protection – I speak with the authority of Vice Admiral Beckett.’

‘You mean,’ said the admiral’s son, drawing a deep breath, ‘that Commodore Rourke gives the orders to starship captains, and you give the orders on the cloak-and-dagger stuff that keeps his desk clean.’

One perfect eyebrow quirked. ‘That’s one perspective. My perspective is that I focus on my responsibilities, and Commodore Rourke and Captain Valance focus on theirs.’

‘So… what’re you saying? You want me to go behind Captain Valance’s back but still somehow impact the operations of two ships? We’re already trying to get to the Borg signal first.’

‘I’m saying that Captain Valance is obligated to consider certain diplomatic priorities because command staff in this squadron have high profiles with our neighbours and allies,’ said Faust coolly. ‘You and I, on the other hand, have other considerations.’

‘Such as… what? Maintaining Starfleet supremacy in the region?’ Beckett said, unable to keep the sarcasm from his voice. It was a bold move for an officer of his status with someone of her rank, but her invocation of his father had not been missed. She’d made this personal first.

Faust’s expression flickered. Then she sat up. ‘It has been Federation policy for nearly half a century to stop or minimise the access of foreign powers to Borg technology. We don’t want to see a repeat of the Artifact. From the technological advantages it gives our neighbours to the sheer danger that can be unleashed by Borg equipment, it is morally vacuous to act as if all governments are equally responsible, equally trustworthy. Certain command staff can act as if Starfleet has no right to judge, but on a pragmatic level, it is cowardice to not judge, to not act on that judgement.’

‘This isn’t a repeat of the Artifact,’ said Beckett with a frown. ‘The Republic isn’t the Free State. They’re our allies.’

‘The Republic are our allies, yes,’ Faust conceded. ‘But it is a fledgling government of weak infrastructure and security. Their borders are leakier than an FCA good practice report. Anything the Republic knows today, the Tal Shiar knows tomorrow – yesterday. I am sure you have met principled Republic officers and representatives who truly want the best democratic outcome for their people, but they are at the heart of a patchwork system that is simply no match for those who seek to prey on and exploit it. If they secure the Borg technology, either their study of it or the equipment itself will be on the black market in the Midgard Sector in hours.’

‘You don’t know that.’

He knew it was a weak argument and, plainly, so did she. But to his surprise, she softened. ‘Lieutenant, I know how very hard Frontier Day was for you. We’re here to make sure nothing like that happens again.’

Now his mouth was dry. Frontier Day was a jumble of memories and senses, a maelstrom in his mind where he was hardly sure where he had ended and the Collective had begun. But some things were clear. Like his hands around Rosara’s throat. ‘Stopping the Republic getting Borg technology doesn’t prevent another Frontier Day,’ he said lamely.

‘Whatever happens next won’t be the same,’ Faust allowed. ‘But if we’re not vigilant, it could be worse. All it takes is for Borg technology to not be as dead as the Republic think, the Orion Syndicate thinks, and we have assimilated ships in the Midgard Sector. Endeavour is on the front line. We deal with these problems now, or you deal with these problems when there are drones on your deck.’ She leaned forward a half-inch. ‘Again.’

His fingertips tingled, and Beckett’s eyes flickered down to his hand. It looked normal. Steady. But adrenaline was still spiking through his system, the fight-or-flight reaction stirring as she stoked the memories of what the Borg had done to him, and what they’d made him do. When he swallowed, his mouth tasted bitter.

It felt like a long time had passed before he looked up at the image of Faust. ‘I understand, ma’am. But I don’t know what I can do that Captain Valance can’t to complete the mission. Even if I’m… weapons-free, so to speak.’

Faust’s expression flickered. ‘I’m sending you a data package. It should contain everything you need for surveillance and, if necessary, infiltration. Our alliance with the Republic means our understanding of their communication and security systems is considerably more sophisticated than they believe it is. Wait for the opportune moment, Lieutenant. And at worst, watch everything. Record everything. And furnish me with a full report on the Ihhliae once you leave.’

He looked back at the panel to see the inbound data package. Again he swallowed. ‘Thank you, Captain.’ Stiff now, Beckett straightened. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

‘I know, Lieutenant. Remember Frontier Day. Remember: never again.’

The line went dead. The doors still did not unseal themselves; they needed Beckett’s say-so. He wasn’t sure, with the security restrictions Faust had placed on that line, that even Valance could open them without initiating a ship-wide emergency. He stood in place for a long moment, staring at the spot on the holo-display where Faust had been, and moments later, a series of data files sprang up, sent over from the Swiftsure.

‘Never again,’ Beckett breathed. Then he opened the files and got to work.

‘We’re entering the periphery of the field,’ called Lindgren at helm. ‘Reducing our speed.’

Valance sat up in the command chair. ‘How fast do we expect we can push it?’

‘Warp three,’ Airex reported grimly. ‘Four on the outside.’

In the XO’s seat, Kharth sighed and rubbed her temples. ‘That could take days. How’s the signal?’

‘That’s the only good news,’ said Airex. ‘We’re still picking it up loud and clear.’

‘Depending on your definition of good news.’ Logan spoke in a low voice, but it was enough to turn all eyes on him. ‘The Borg put that signal out there in the expectation that it will be answered.’

‘All the more reason we get there first,’ said Valance with a confidence she didn’t entirely feel. ‘Take us in, Lindgren.’ She had never been to the Badlands, that vast expanse of a plasma field on the Cardassian border, but she had seen images. The Mesea Storm looked very similar, a maelstrom of gold, hued silver by the flashes of ion storms in its depths. Though considerably smaller, it had still played a role similar to the Synnef Nebula and checked the expansion of both Federation and Republic borders. Difficult as it was to have a phenomenon like that in unclaimed space, nobody wanted to be responsible for it.

The deck began to rumble as they eased in, and the clouds began to turn bronze around them. After a moment, Airex said, ‘The Ihhliae has also entered the field. They’re taking a different route.’

‘Do they know something we don’t?’ Thawn wondered aloud.

‘I doubt it,’ said Valance. ‘This ship has the most sophisticated sensor suite in the sector. Set a course for the signal and advance as quickly and safely as you can, Lindgren. Commander Airex, continue to monitor our route to keep us out of trouble.’

Progress was slower and worse than their expedition into the Synnef Nebula over a month ago. The size of the nebula still turned them upside-down, and this time they had the Borg homing signal to pursue, but as a former pilot, Valance took one look at the navigational conditions in the Mesea Storm and knew she was pushing her crew hard.

After some time, she stood. ‘These are operational circumstances requiring high and constant concentration. I’m going to move us onto shorter shift rotations with the relief officers. Take breaks, people.’ She looked to Shepherd. ‘Commander, draw up a rota. I don’t want officers going more than two hours without taking a break.’

‘Yes, Captain.’ Shepherd paused, lips quirking. ‘That includes you?’

Valance sighed. ‘Me too.’

‘Captain.’ Airex looked up from his controls. ‘I’ve lost the Ihhliae on sensors.’

‘Did they cloak?’ wondered Lindgren.

He shook his head. ‘Their cloak would disguise us from their sensors, but the mass of the ship moving through the plasma field would be detectable.’ He sounded like he’d been preparing for exactly this possibility.

Valance nodded. ‘Then we focus on ourselves and that’s it.’

Shepherd made good on her promise to include Valance in the rota, but she stood firm and made sure she only took a half-hour break. It was still interrupted by Kharth only ten minutes in, letting herself into the ready room. ‘I’m assuming,’ her XO began with little ceremony, ‘we didn’t hear anything from Rourke.’

Valance had a raktajino in her hands and was wondering if she’d end up over-caffeinating before this was over. ‘No. It seems we are too far out.’

‘Right.’ Kharth clasped her hands behind her back but shifted her feet aimlessly. ‘So it’s on us, if it comes to it, to make decisions which could critically impact our relationship with the Republic. And not just in the Midgard Sector.’

Valance sighed and set the mug down. ‘Get a drink. And sit.’

‘I don’t -’

‘Sit.’ Valance stabbed a finger at the empty chair. ‘This mission puts you in a tough position.’

Kharth snorted as she grabbed a black coffee from the replicator. ‘I told you. I owe the Republic nothing. If this was the Empire -’

‘I feel confident that the Klingon Empire will still be here in ten years. My father, my brother, their House, will be fine. What will be the state of the Romulan people in a decade?’

‘You’re acting like we’re a monolith -’

‘You’re not, and that’s part of the problem. You’re a diaspora in a deeply dangerous frontier, or you live under the oppressive regime of the Free State, or you live in the Republic.’ At Kharth’s face, Valance tensed. ‘I’m not trying to explain your people’s circumstances to you. I’m saying you know all of this and you’re pretending not to.’

‘Have I ever,’ said Kharth, jaw tight, ‘indicated my allegiance is to anything but Starfleet?’

For a moment, the topic – the words – hung on the tip of Valance’s tongue, and it was as if she could see them dangling between them. Kharth knew what she might say but stood steady, almost daring her to speak, and at length, Valance did. ‘The Erem.’

‘Captain Rourke killed fifty-three people –’ The lack of change in Kharth’s expression belied the outrage in her tone. She’d known this was coming.

‘I don’t want to re-litigate it,’ Valance said sharply. ‘I don’t even need an explanation from you. Obviously, there was a moral argument for refusing that order; Rhade did, too. But I believe you were motivated at least in part by the fact that they were Romulan lives.’

Now Kharth’s nostrils flared, and she looked away. ‘Are you planning on blowing up the Ihhliae if they get to the Borg technology first?’

‘No,’ Valance said firmly. ‘The situation with the Erem was different. I know that now, and I’m not authorised to explain to you why. But this might become an ongoing situation with Endeavour’s assignment to the Midgard Sector.’

Kharth looked like she might make a sharp comment, but instead said, ‘Dealing with the Republic. If you knew that, why’d you pick me as XO?’

I’m getting very tired of you expressing that, Valance didn’t say. ‘Commander, my issue isn’t what you think. My issue is that you’re acting like there isn’t an issue. That doesn’t instil confidence.’

‘What do you want from me here, Valance? Do I have to spill my guts before you drop this?’ Her expression twisted. ‘I was fourteen when I was evacuated from Romulus. I’ve no affection for or loyalty to any Romulan faction or government. The Republic might not be as oppressive as the Free State, but they might also be too weak to live, and I’m not hitching myself to that star. The likes of Morvith are old Galae Command officers who picked a side and then set about trying to build a government – a, a major power.’ Kharth slammed her mug down on Valance’s desk. ‘They’re not doing shit for the millions, billions of people who’ve ended up on backwaters the galaxy is trying to forget about.’

‘The Republic took in considerable territories of the Velorum sector,’ Valance said carefully, ‘and inside their borders are a lot of formerly fringe worlds -’

‘Worlds they needed to back them to get set up in the first place,’ Kharth snapped. ‘To give themselves legitimacy. Now, they reach out to worlds that have something for them. The industry of the Velorum sector was a gift to the Republic, as was the support of the Remans. What have they done for Teros, right on their door? Nothing.’

‘Do you expect them to have the resources to help everyone?’

Kharth’s eyes narrowed. ‘I know they don’t. Don’t patronise me, Valance. They have to be pragmatic, but that also means they aren’t the future for the Romulan people. Just the ones they can, or choose, to help. So I don’t really give a damn about whether they get this Borg technology. Happy?’

The tone stirred that old frustration in Valance’s chest, an annoyance that had been there since Kharth had reported for her very first staff briefing aboard two and a half years ago. But now they weren’t XO and security chief, they were captain and first officer. This had to be different, and she was the one who’d poked Kharth in a sensitive spot.

She let out a slow breath. ‘That was what I wanted to know, yes,’ she said, softer. And, because she knew she had to give something in return, ‘If we refuse to acknowledge our biases, that’s when they can control us. And I know that because I’ve lived that, Kharth.’

Kharth hesitated. ‘You hate it,’ she said, ‘when anyone treats you like “the Klingon officer.” I’m not thrilled when I’m treated as “the Romulan officer,” either.’

‘But I can’t pretend I’m not part-Klingon, raised for a time in the Empire, with several years of service in the KDF,’ Valance said levelly. ‘That’s something I’ve had to learn. And it does mean I sometimes get reactions from Klingon officers very similar to the reaction you received from Commander Morvith.’

‘She can think what she likes,’ said Kharth, rolling her eyes, and for once, Valance appreciated her XO’s determined refusal to give a damn for almost anyone else’s opinion. She was, at least, consistent. ‘Fact remains, we need to get to that signal so we can find out what the Borg were doing. That’s more important than what they’re up to.’

Valance nodded, allowing her to turn the conversation further to the mission itself. ‘Do you think that if we have to try and negotiate access, we tell the truth?’

‘I expect Morvith won’t admit that it helps, but it will probably help. She doesn’t want Borg running around in or near Republic space, either. She’ll act like you’re being all superior Starfleet, not trusting her with critical information. But it’s a better negotiating position than letting her believe Starfleet just thinks nobody else should have this technology.’ Kharth hesitated. ‘Even if Starfleet does believe that.’

‘And it’s not our position, said Valance, getting to her feet, ‘to try to rewrite policy.’

‘No,’ Kharth allowed, also standing. ‘But right now, out here? It’s just us. And if policy’s not fit for purpose, we’re going to have to go off-book. Are you ready to do that?’

Valance looked sharply at her, ready to be defensive. Kharth’s gaze was level, though, and she sighed. It was, considering how she had projected herself for years as an officer, a fair accusation.

‘We have our mission,’ said Valance, ‘and it’s to find that signal. But we’re here to keep the Midgard Sector safe. Weakening the Republic doesn’t help that, either.’

‘Good,’ said Kharth, but her gaze turned wry at once. ‘Now let’s see how it goes if we have to choose.’

‘Oh, now you grace me with your presence.’ Lindgren tilted her nose to the ceiling as Thawn slid into the booth across from her.

Thawn’s glare was ruined by suppressing a yawn. ‘I was on a late shift,’ she grumbled, wrapping her hands around the steaming mug of coffee.

‘For five weeks?’

‘What? Oh.’ Thawn rolled her eyes. ‘Are you really indignant that I went away? We’re not even remotely that co-dependent.’

‘No,’ said Lindgren with, at last, a permissive laugh. ‘I just enjoy having something to hold over you.’ She leaned forward. ‘So?’

Thawn gave a groggy blink. Outside the windows of the Safe House, the golds and bronzes of the Mesea Storm raged. A day into their search, they had navigated the plasma field with a cautious, ginger speed, trying to avoid the worst of the ion storms on their approach. It had not taken long for her to miss the stars. Focused work had taken as much of a toll as long hours, so she looked blankly at Lindgren. ‘So? What?’

‘The trip! Nate. The galaxy might be in peril, but I don’t get an update?’

‘Oh.’ Thawn flushed. ‘Is there anything you haven’t figured out?’

Lindgren rolled her eyes. ‘You’re useless. You run away with another man on an adventure to a nomadic culture in a nebula, and have nothing to regale me with when you get back? Do I have to keep going to Ed for gossip?’

‘Ed? Ed Winters? He’s not much of a gossip.’

‘No,’ Lindgren allowed. ‘But Nurse Li is and Ed’s tolerably competent at getting information out of her. Probably because she volunteers it every time they’re on break in Sickbay.’

‘Well.’ Thawn sniffed. ‘I guess you don’t need me catching you up -’

‘Oh come on! What is this with Nate? You two still seem close, but was this, what, some sort of summer fling while you got away from Adamant?’

‘No! Why does everyone think that?’ Thawn set her mug down heavily. ‘Do you really all think I’m going to play him around and then drop him the moment things get hard?’

‘I didn’t mean “play him”; maybe you two had a perfectly well-agreed arrangement of casual fucking…’ Lindgren waggled her eyebrows. ‘I’ll take that as a no. Thank you. That’s all I asked.’

Thawn narrowed her eyes. ‘You really need to start dating again.’

Lindgren raised her mug with a smile of which the Mona Lisa would be proud. ‘Who says I haven’t already?’

‘You can’t -’ Then the ship bucked and sent their drinks flying. Metal creaked, Thawn had to grab hold of the table to not follow the mugs, and a low, deep hum ran through Endeavour as an impact rippled across the hull, across the decks. A heartbeat later, red alert activated. ‘What the…’

Lindgren’s eyes snapped to the windows, where the maelstrom of the plasma field continued to rage. ‘Ion storm,’ she gasped. Around them, crew had been jostled, but nobody looked seriously hurt. The ship had taken a smack, not a serious blow – but it could be the prelude to anything. ‘Let’s go.’

Officers got out of their way, two senior staff members racing to the bridge in a clear Situation. Shepherd was in the centre chair when they arrived and looked relieved to wave them to the front. ‘To your stations. A storm front formed right on top of us, and we’re half-blind already.’

Thawn slid behind Ops as Lindgren relieved Fox at Helm beside her, and saw at once their systems going haywire from interference and the latest impact of ionised particles on the hull. ‘Rerouting power to the lateral sensor array!’

‘This was only a force-4 vibration,’ came the call from Airex. Either he’d been pulling double shifts, or he’d been closer.

‘That’s an intensity we can handle,’ said Shep. ‘But not if we stay in the middle of it and can’t see anything. Elsa, get us out of here!’

‘Not sure what way is out, sir!’ Lindgren warned, hands racing across helm controls. ‘I still need eyes!’

‘I’m working on it,’ said Thawn through gritted teeth.

‘Lindgren; I’m transmitting you a predictive model of the ion storm’s formation,’ Airex called. ‘But it’s based on what little data we had before the storm hit us.’

‘It’s better than nothing,’ said Shep. ‘Elsa, roll with it.’

It was still, Thawn knew, a gamble. If they didn’t have the data on the ion storm to have avoided it in the first instance, Airex would have had to fill in gaps on his predictive model from ion storms forming in other plasma fields, like the Badlands. They knew so little about the Mesea Storm, which meant they didn’t know how it might be different. The deck surged as Endeavour moved under Lindgren’s directions, but then there was another rumbling impact of a wave of ionised particles.

‘I’m trying to break this interference,’ she said, jaw still tight. ‘It’s just not…’ She paused. Defeating a stellar phenomenon’s disruption to their sensors in mere moments was impractical. But there was nothing consistent about an ion storm forming right off their aft. ‘Running a wide-band scan!’

Shepherd stared at her. ‘Why?’

‘Charting for heavy interference. The places we can’t scan? That’s where the storm’s thickest.’ Thawn flung the data across to Lindgren – just as she realised a wave of ionised particles was surging up at them. ‘Brace for -’

The ship bucked. The world spun. Thawn hit the deck hard as emergency lights flickered, and barely managed to catch herself. The spin of the ship was enough to pin her down for thudding heartbeats before she could fight to grab her chair, pull herself back up into the gloom of a chaotic bridge. It was like resurfacing after being dunked into inky black waters.

Behind her, Shepherd was still getting up. ‘Report!’

‘We were hit,’ Thawn creaked unhelpfully as she dragged herself to her controls. ‘That broke through our shields. Hull impacts on decks eight and nine… no breaches.’

‘Casualties?’

‘Still coming in…’ No sign we lost anyone. Not yet. ‘Starboard impulse engines are out…’

Next to her, Lindgren was gathering herself with a groan. ‘Nav sensors are lighting up again. I think that was the ion storm washing over us… looks like the predictive model turned us into its path.’

Thawn looked towards Science, only to realise that Airex wasn’t there – he was flat out on the deck, with Lieutenant Zherul bent over, administering medical assistance. He looked like he’d taken a blow to the head. With a suck of the teeth, she turned back to her post. ‘Minor injuries only, Commander. No losses. Hull is still holding. Looks like it could have been a lot worse.’

The turbolift doors slid open and Valance all but bounded out, upright and intent. ‘Report!’

Shepherd looked beleaguered as she explained. No losses. Minor injuries. Repairable damage. ‘Our engines, though…’

Thawn sighed. ‘Commander Perrek’s getting me a full assessment, but that took the brunt of the impact. He needs to take a look before he can get us underway.’

‘Captain.’ For the first time, Qadir, at Tactical, piped up. ‘Ship approaching on sensors. It’s the Ihhliae. They look undamaged; they must have avoided the storm.’

Kally had scuttled onto the bridge with Valance, and hadn’t yet bothered adjusting the comms officer’s seat. Her chin barely peeked over the controls, but still she turned back. ‘They’re hailing us, Captain!’

‘USS Endeavour – do you need critical assistance?’ This time, Commander Morvith was the one who looked gathered, presentable, her ship untouched by the ion storm that had battered Endeavour.

Valance took a PADD off Shepherd, double-checking their ongoing damage report. She blew her cheeks out after a moment. ‘We’re still taking stock of casualties and the damage,’ she said, and Thawn frowned. There was nothing the Ihhliae could do for Endeavour that they couldn’t do for themselves in this condition.

Morvith cocked her head at something she read off-screen. ‘You seem to have it covered,’ she said after a moment, sharing Thawn’s assessment. ‘Unless your medical teams need more support, we won’t get underfoot.’

A muscle worked in the corner of Valance’s jaw. ‘Thank you for your concern, Commander.’

‘Of course. You’d do the same for us. We’ll see you outside the storm. Ihhliae out.’

Oh, Thawn thought. The captain was trying to delay them. Now they’ll –

‘They’re back underway,’ sighed Shepherd. ‘Chasing the signal while we’re beached for repair for God knows how long.’

‘My apologies,’ groaned Airex, only just back on his feet. Zherul was still running a medical tricorder over him. ‘It looks like my predictive model lacked key information.’

‘You think?’ Shepherd asked him, wry rather than accusing.

He still gave her a flicker of a glare. ‘Now the ion storm’s subsiding, I’m detecting subspace fractures in this area. Our sensors couldn’t pick them up through the storm. But it seems to have affected the formation and direction of those ion waves. That’s why my calculations were off.’

Thawn looked back at him. ‘That’s not normal for a plasma field like this.’

‘We’re not sure what’s normal for a plasma field like this,’ Airex pointed out, ‘but I agree it was not anticipated.’

Her throat tightened as her mind raced. ‘The transwarp conduit?’

‘It’s possible.’

Valance looked between them. ‘We think its collapse damaged subspace in the area and rendered the plasma field more unpredictable?’

‘Again, it’s possible,’ sighed Airex.

‘This is what we get,’ said Valance, eyes returning to the viewscreen, ‘for coming so far out into the unknown while this is the Republic’s backyard.’ She shook her head. ‘We need to be underway ASAP. Thawn, keep me appraised of damage reports, especially from Perrek. Get Cortez’s team down to join him if necessary.’

‘Of course, Captain,’ Thawn said, looking back at her station. ‘Wait -’ Everyone did. Then, as soon as she’d seen it, it was gone – a momentary surge in Endeavour’s computer processing and power output. For a heartbeat, she’d thought it was the systems responding to another wave of ionised particles, but even without the lack of an impact on the ship, it didn’t match.

‘Lieutenant?’ said Valance after a beat.

‘…nothing.’ Thawn blinked. ‘Sorry, Captain. I’ll keep you appraised.’

Whatever it was, it didn’t affect their need to get back on their feet. She could look at it later, and Kally hadn’t said anything, after all. That was what really mattered, Thawn thought, because for all the world, it looked like Endeavour had just used a high-power subspace frequency to create a secure data tunnel for a transmission.

But it wasn’t her job to worry about that – Endeavour had to get back on her feet to win this race. Besides, nobody aboard should have been able to do that from outside the bridge. And certainly not without being noticed. And even if they could – why would they?

‘Captain? The homing signal has gone dead.’

Valance’s heart sank as Airex’s report washed over the bridge. ‘The Ihhliae beat us there?’

‘Impossible to say.’ He hesitated. ‘But likely. If the source had been destroyed by ion storms, we would probably have seen the signal weaken before stopping. This was consistent right until it stopped.’

‘That’s probably,’ said Cortez unhappily, ‘a sign someone got there and killed the power source.’

Endeavour had lost precious hours to the repairs. Even with Perrek and Cortez working flat out, too much time had been spent getting underway again. In open space, they could have beaten the Romulan warbird on speed, but navigating the Mesea Storm was a contest of resilience, not haste. A contest they had lost.

‘We don’t know anything for certain,’ Valance said, even if she didn’t believe it. ‘Proceed to the last known location of the signal.’

‘Aye, Captain. We’re still three hours out,’ warned Lindgren.

Valance stood and headed for the Science console. Hands on the frame, she waited for the bridge to settle down to stop paying attention to her and settle down to work before she leaned towards Airex and dropped her voice. ‘Continue full-spectrum scans of the field. We might as well learn what we can about this phenomenon in case we ever come back.’

Normally, Airex would have been delighted to be given leave to study an anomaly to his heart’s content. But his shoulders stiffened. ‘You’ve given up on finding the signal or the Ihhliae, haven’t you.’

‘I think the odds of us getting anything from this venture are vanishingly small.’

He did not raise his eyes. ‘I apologise for the miscalculation with the ion wave, Captain. I should -’

‘Dav.’ She frowned. He still did not look up. ‘We’ve never been here before. We’re not going to get it right first time. I think we were all a little too comfortable on operations mostly inside Federation territory the last few years.’

While he raised his eyes, he remained dour. ‘There’s no space for learning experiences when we’re hunting the Borg.’

No, Valance thought, but I have no alternative right now, so I’m trying to make lemonade out of these lemons. Rourke would have found the right thing to say, even with the cerebral Trill she was much closer to. ‘Then your options, Commander, are to make the most of this situation to study a new area or to find me the Ihhliae.’ It was not her most supportive command decision, but she was in no position to unpick Airex’s feelings of inadequacy right then.

If not you, then who?

She still had no answer for that hours later, when Lindgren looked up as her console chirruped. ‘We’re at the original location of the homing signal, Captain.’

Airex clicked his tongue. ‘There’s nothing here.’

‘Nothing?’ Valance turned to Cortez, standing near Logan to read his display rather than joining her at the command chairs. ‘Do we have any idea how big this wreckage or device could have been?’

Cortez shrugged. ‘Reports say that even very small devices have turned active to give off homing signals…’

Logan nodded. ‘The Collective is sometimes militant about recovering things it’s lost – especially drones, and especially when dealing with cultures who know less about them. Every drone is capable of sending out those signals.’

Kharth, sat at the XO’s seat, winced. ‘So you’re saying this could have been one drone?’

Cortez shook her head. ‘This was a really powerful signal to punch its way out of the Mesea Storm. Right?’ She glanced at Logan.

‘The homing signals on individual drones are powerful, but they’re pretty reliant on the biomechanical implants functioning. A drone would have to still be alive, which means more wreckage, for the signal to have even a chance of punching out of the Storm,’ Logan agreed.

‘So if there’s wreckage, there doesn’t even have to be a drone,’ mused Cortez. ‘Just systems intact enough to have a power-rig capable of piping out that signal.’

‘And surviving in the Storm,’ Logan said.

Valance raised a hand. ‘I’m asking for your best guess on whether the Ihhliae could beam all the wreckage aboard or if they’d have to tow something.’

Logan hummed, then turned to his console. ‘Let me check something.’

Kharth watched him. ‘Antiprotons from Romulan disruptors?’

‘Yup. Whatever was here had to be big enough that the Ihhliae would need to take it apart to beam it aboard. And that couldn’t have been more than a few hours ago; antiprotons wouldn’t have degraded fully yet…’ Logan’s hands flew across the controls. ‘No sign.’

Cortez snapped her fingers. ‘No promises, Captain, but I’d say odds are good they’ve had to kill the signal, then haul something out of here.’

‘I think you’re right, Cortez.’ That was Airex, and when Valance looked back at him, the spark was back in his eyes. ‘I’m picking up dissipating fields of gravitons, bearing three-seven mark one-five-three. Could be a tractor beam.’

‘Romulan warbird, that age, that condition, keeping a tractor beam up on decent-sized haulage, at warp in these conditions…’ Cortez’s lips moved silently as she calculated. ‘They’ll be doing well to beat warp three.’

‘And,’ added Airex, ‘they’ll have to give any ion storms a wide berth. They’re hauling likely-delicate wreckage under perilous circumstances. They can do this fast, or they can do this right.’

‘Well,’ said Cortez. ‘They can do this slow, or they can do this slow as hell but right.’

Kharth made an impatient sound. ‘Do we have a trail to follow?’

‘We have a heading,’ said Airex. ‘I’ll keep scanning for gravitons. It’s not easy amidst the storm’s interference, but the good news is that it’ll get easier the closer we get.’

Valance waved a finger towards the fore. ‘Take us out, Lindgren. Fast as you can safely manage. We’re not out of this race yet.’

Endeavour swung around through the bronze maelstrom of clouds, and Valance felt her chest lighten as they accelerated to a low warp. There was still a chance.

It did not take long for Kharth to dampen that enthusiasm as she shifted over and leaned in. ‘What do we do when we catch up?’ she muttered. ‘Ask nicely?’

Valance’s jaw tightened. ‘One step at a time.’

‘You don’t know?’

Valance shot her a look. ‘I’m open to suggestions.’ But there were, of course, none coming. Valance knew that whatever Kharth said, the shadow of Teros – of the Erem – loomed large over them. With the stakes this high, nobody who remembered that day could completely trust it wouldn’t repeat itself. Valance knew she had no intentions of condemning the crew of the Ihhliae to death just to get her hands on the Borg wreckage, but there were a lot of lines she could still cross before it got that far. Deep in the Mesea Storm, there was nobody to see her actions. Diplomacy died in the darkness, where the only truth was whatever tale was told on the outside.

But she, of course, could see her own actions. As could her crew.

Hours later, she was still no closer to a conclusion when there was a chirrup from comms, and Kally gave a small, surprised squeak. She spun in her chair, finger pressed to her earpiece. ‘Captain, I’m picking up a distress signal – it’s from the Ihhliae!’

Valance’s head snapped around. ‘What’ve we got?’

‘They’re reporting…’ Kally paused a beat to listen. ‘…a cascading failure in their computer network? Something’s gone wrong, and they’ve lost control of the ship’s systems. Captain, it sounds like they’re drifting.’

Kharth sat up. ‘If they’ve lost control of flight systems, deflectors, in the middle of the storm…’

‘Then an ionic wave could tear them apart.’ Valance’s grip on the armrest tightened. ‘Yellow alert. Tell them we’re on our way, Kally. Lindgren, set a course. Maximum possible speed. I want emergency power rerouted to navigational deflectors.’ The deck rumbled as Endeavour surged forward, accelerating into the choppy waters of these storm-wracked seas of the plasma field.

But still, Kharth looked towards Cortez and asked the question they were all thinking. ‘Isa, what might cause what sounds like a systems collapse out here?’

Cortez shrugged. ‘It could be damage. We don’t know much.’

‘Yeah,’ said Kharth. ‘But…’

‘It could be Borg,’ Logan said, jaw tight. ‘If something survived on that wreck, a drone or a system, and managed to transmit something aboard.’ He looked about the bridge. ‘Don’t everyone go panicking at once, I know you was already thinking it. It could be anything. But yeah. The worst case scenario is possible.’

Valance’s throat tightened, but she leaned back in her chair. ‘We focus on what we know,’ she said at last. ‘And what we know is there’s a ship out there that needs our help.’

A ship out there that has the prize we want.

Never before had they pushed Endeavour to her limits like this. They’d raced at the highest speeds to face a myriad of challenges, but this was about more than stoking the warp engine as hot as it would burn. This took the finest margins of navigation, the most vigilant working of the sensors, the most perfect calibration of the deflectors to race through the turbulence of the Medea Storm and reach the Ihhliae in time.

‘Coming up on her now, Captain!’ Lindgren called. ‘One minute til we drop out of warp.’

Valance looked over at Cortez. ‘SCE ready to get underway?’ The Ihhliae would undoubtedly benefit from engineering assistance. She hoped the medical assistance was less necessary.

A brisk nod. ‘We will be.’

For once, Beckett had come up and taken the tertiary command seat. He drummed his fingers on the armrest. ‘Do we have Tactical ready to get a lock on the wreck?’

She glanced at him. ‘This is a mission of mercy, Lieutenant. We’re not here to snipe the prize.’

He gave a smirk that normally suggested he was apologetic and at least somewhat facetious. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, though. ‘I just figured all’s fair in Borg and war.’

‘That doesn’t really scan,’ Kharth muttered.

‘Dropping out of warp in five!’ called Lindgren.

They held tight. Then the rattling of the deck eased as Endeavour left the hardest warp four-point-five of her life, and on the viewscreen rushed up the sight of their target. The Ihhliae showed little sign of hull damage, but she was clearly drifting, helpless. In her wake, lurking like an inky shadow, was the prize.

It was a smaller patch of wreckage than they’d investigated at Lockney, no more than fifty metres in length. The emerald circuity snaked across the hull, its Borg origins plain to see, but there was no sign of activity. Valance did not let that soothe her; they had thought the same last time.

‘Status of the Ihhliae?’ she called.

‘She’s down to emergency power only,’ Logan reported. ‘Impossible to say what happened – she’s got life support, but looks like not much else.’

Valance grimaced. ‘How’s she faring in the plasma field?’

‘Weathering it,’ said Logan.

‘For now,’ added Airex grimly. ‘There’s an ion storm forming nearly a billion kilometres off our port side. If they can’t get moving in two to three hours, it’ll hit here. Without power, it’ll rip them apart.’

‘Hail them,’ Valance called.

‘I’m connecting,’ said Kally. ‘Audio only. Putting it through.’

A moment later, Commander Morvith’s voice crackled across the bridge. ‘Endeavour. I find myself in an unenviable position.’

‘It could be worse, Commander – we might not be here at all,’ said Valance. ‘What happened?’

‘A sudden computer systems failure. First our power controls, then it spread across the ship. My Chief Engineer suspects an ionic discharge from the storm caused a power surge in our plasma conduits, which has caused some of our isolinear circuitry to malfunction. A one in a million chance, apparently. But the main computer’s shut down, our main power has shut down, and I can’t get anything active again except emergency power.’

Valance glanced at Cortez and gestured for Kally to mute them. ‘Is that feasible?’

‘It’s damned bad luck,’ Cortez allowed. ‘But conceivable, yeah. I’d want to replace those isolinear circuits, which doesn’t take long but… you’d have to replicate them. Which they don’t have the power for.’

Valance nodded, then reopened the channel. ‘You’ve got an ion storm headed your way, Commander. If you’re not underway in under three hours, it’ll destroy your ship.’

Morvith gave a short, humourless laugh. ‘If you’re waiting for me to ask for help, Endeavour -’

‘You don’t need to,’ said Valance quickly. ‘With your permission, I’d like to send an engineering team over to help you get underway. Do you need medical assistance?’

‘My medical crew has seen to our minor casualties. Your engineers are… gratefully received.’ Another pause. ‘I assume in the meantime, you’ll take the wreckage for yourselves.’

Valance stared at the viewscreen, jaw tight. Then she said, ‘No.’

Beckett sat bolt upright. ‘Captain –’

‘No, Commander,’ she continued to Morvith, shooting Beckett a glare. ‘Endeavour will get you underway and escort you and the wreckage to the edge of the Mesea Storm. In return, all we ask for is access to the wreckage while you prepare to return to the Republic.’

‘Is this a trick?’

‘No trick, Commander,’ said Valance. ‘This technology was on your front door. I have a mission I have to complete, but there’s no reason for that to come at the expense of your people.’

‘That’s… astonishingly generous of you, Captain.’

‘It’s merely Starfleet practising what we preach. I’ll send the engineering team over now. Endeavour out.’ Valance stood. ‘Kharth, head out with Cortez and the SCE team. Bring at least Zherul with you just in case they need help. Take the King Arthur.’

‘Got it,’ said Kharth, hopping to her feet.

But she was barely at the turbolift when Beckett stood and rounded on Valance. ‘Captain, I have to protest against us letting the Republic take the wreckage.’

Valance glanced at the withdrawing away team. She merely gave them a curt nod to proceed, then turned to Beckett, gaze frosty. ‘Your protest is noted, Lieutenant.’

He stood his ground, even as the business around him carried on. ‘Starfleet policy dictates that we take that wreckage. Even diplomatically, we’d be well within our rights to take it in exchange for helping them – they couldn’t stop us!’

‘That’s an interpretation of policy,’ said Valance. ‘Starfleet didn’t try to steal the Artifact from the Free State. We worked with them. We’ve received no orders on this mission, which makes it my decision. There are more factors here than what we can get away with.’

‘Anything the Republic knows today, the Tal Shiar will know in five minutes!’ Beckett pressed. ‘The Orion Syndicate are right on their door, and they already have a foot in the Borg technology black market. If the Ihhliae leaves with the wreck, its equipment will be sold at Sot Thryfar inside a week.’

‘Supposition, Lieutenant.’ Valance narrowed her eyes. This outburst was unlike the young man, however much he was wont to speak his mind. ‘Your objection will be noted in my log. Now, that’s enough.’ He looked like he might still stand his ground, and she bristled. ‘Or do I need to ask you to leave the bridge?’

For a moment more, Beckett stood stock still. His eyes were locked on her, and she expected to see him mustering strength or making some calculation. There was little there, however, but a churning certainty she rarely saw from him about anything. Valance had known enough people in her life who had gone through hardship and came out the other side changed to recognise the signs. She was not sure, in truth, that it was exactly Nate Beckett talking to her at that moment. But she was the CO, and she had laid down the law, and it was his choice whether she would need to escalate.

At last, he drew a sharp breath and said, voice holding an edge of a waver, ‘You don’t need to ask. Captain.’ He walked sharply to the turbolift, and left.

In the silence that followed, Valance found herself looking towards Thawn, and could not help but raise her eyebrows questioningly. She wasn’t sure if she was asking the young woman for an answer, or asking if she wanted to follow in his wake, but all that met her gaze were wide, confused eyes, before Thawn turned briskly back to her station.

Valance cleared her throat. ‘Commander Airex, run a scan of the Borg wreckage. See if there’s a node for us to extract data from.’

‘It looks likely, Captain, but I’ll confirm.’ Airex’s voice was brisk, officious in the fallout of Beckett’s outburst.

‘We’ll get it and the Ihhliae out of the storm,’ she continued, ‘then disconnect the node and learn what we can. Then they can be on their way. Keep me posted about the ion storm, too; if necessary, we’ll tractor them both out.’

As the bridge settled down, monitoring the situation while the away team got to work, Valance padded over to Logan. She leaned over his controls and dropped her voice. ‘I know you’ve been working with Beckett since Frontier Day…’

‘Such as I’ve been able to,’ Logan allowed. ‘With him flitting off.’ He glanced up at her. ‘Hell of an outburst from him. I’ll try to have a chat.’

‘I appreciate that, Commander. I know this mission is bringing a lot up for… a lot of people.’ She left him there and would have returned to the centre chair had Airex not caught her eye.

‘I’m focusing on the ion storm and the wreck as instructed,’ Airex said in a low voice when she joined him. ‘But something about Morvith’s story strikes me as… odd.’

‘Cortez said it was plausible.’

‘Plausible but unlikely. Karana…’ Airex winced. ‘The most likely cause of a computer failure like that is from software, not hardware.’

Valance tensed. ‘Do you mean old, scrounged software wasn’t fit for purpose? Or user error?’ She paused. ‘Or sabotage?’

‘I don’t know what I mean. But I can review what Cortez finds. Because if Morvith has an enemy agent on her ship… if a Republic ship has an enemy agent aboard…’

Valance blew her cheeks out. ‘Then the last thing the Midgard Sector needs is the Tal Shiar getting stuck in here.’ Airex nodded, and they returned to work. It did not occur to either of them, after all, to suspect any other culprit if the cause was, indeed, foul play.

Squadron commander’s log, Stardate 2401.6. Captain Valance has reported Endeavour’s success in responding to a Borg signal from near the Rencaris system after close cooperation with our allies in the Romulan Republic. We’re one step closer to discovering the mission of the destroyed Cube. Regardless, its remains are still scattered across the sector, and my captains have their hands full dealing with the consequences…

‘Rho Detara was not a problem,’ reported the holographic projection of Captain Faust. ‘We found minor wreckage in the system, but the locals were in no condition to secure it.’

Captain Daragon tilted his head. ‘What’s the situation with the locals? You’re our first ship there since the fall of Rator.’

Rourke tensed at the question. It was a relevant point but not a topic he thought would prove particularly fruitful in his meeting with the senior officers of Endeavour Squadron – minus, ironically, representatives from Endeavour herself. He was still aboard Redemption, which continued her work in the Lockney system with what was being referred to as the Alpha Wreck to examine, catalogue, and, if necessary, disable Borg technology in the debris. While Captain Daragon did not need him to supervise, it was easier for him to liaise with Midgard Sector operations from this many light-years over the border, where he could communicate directly with his ships on missions taking them further out than ever before.

This meeting was thus being held around the holographic projector in Redemption’s CIC, his centre of operations. Daragon himself had joined him, as had Ambassador Hale, but Captain Faust of the Swiftsure, Commander Xhakaza of the Ranger, and Commander Harrian, squadron strategic operations currently in command of the USS Tempest, were only holographic projections transmitted through subspace. Endeavour was still too far out for instant communication, even with Swiftsure to relay.

Despite Rourke’s assumption of her cynicism, Captain Faust gave a tight smile. ‘Commander Malhotra reached out to the locals while we secured the package. They’re an indigenous people called the Elkari, former vassals of the Star Empire and then Rator. The Romulans pulled out last year. The Elkari seem to have seized very few imperial assets; they were put to work in industry scattered across the planet and are now consolidating their society on one of the smaller continents. I don’t think they have a population of more than three hundred million. Their use of imperial technology they’d scrounged told them about wreckage in orbit, but they didn’t have the know-how to identify it as Borg. I’m not sure they would have known to be worried.’

‘That’s truly something,’ said Daragon, eyes bright with wonderment. ‘A whole new culture escaping an imperialist yoke. We shall have to reach out to them further.’ He leaned forward with an excitable look towards Hale.

Hale, for her part, looked like she shared some of Rourke’s apprehensions, but she did nod and look to Faust. ‘If you don’t mind, Captain, I’d like to speak with Commander Malhotra, at his convenience. Perhaps we can conduct some diplomatic outreach once this is over.’

‘We have our hands full dismantling the technology we’ve found,’ Faust sniffed. ‘But I will direct his report to you, Ambassador.’

Rourke leaned forward. ‘How much longer do you need at Rho Detara, Captain?’

She shrugged. ‘Another day or so to be sure.’

‘Good. Any update from Zephral, Commander?’ His eyes went to the projection of young Xhakaza.

‘My science officer’s having a field day with the study, sir, I can tell you that,’ Xhakaza said brightly. ‘We’re learning considerably more about the nature of transwarp by studying the subspace disruptions from the conduit’s collapse.’

‘Is there any indication,’ Faust pushed more tartly, ‘whether the Cube was destroyed first and that collapsed the conduit, or vice versa?’

Xhakza shook his head. ‘We know for sure that the conduit’s collapse triggered localised subspace implosions. Based on the reports from the Redemption, my officers reckon that shattered the Cube’s structural integrity matrix. It’s just not clear if the Cube was already in trouble when that happened.’

‘So we don’t know much,’ said Faust.

‘We know a little more. It’s not good news.’ Xhakaza sighed. ‘We had the reports from Endeavour about the Mesea Storm. My science officer agrees: the collapse of the transwarp conduit has left subspace fractures potentially across the sector. That probably caused the plasma field’s unpredictable agitation.’

Rourke worked his jaw. ‘Any other consequences of that?’ he asked of his command staff – former pilots, tactical officers like him, or intelligence analysts. His eyes fell on Harrian, the only former science officer of them.

Harrian squirmed. ‘I was a xenoanthropologist, Commodore,’ he pointed out. ‘But we should watch for pockets where space-time has been disrupted. That could be extremely hazardous.’

‘I’ve had enough of that for several lifetimes, thank you very much,’ Rourke sighed. ‘But that does bring me to you, Commander. Update from the Tempest?’

Harrian rolled his eyes. ‘Smugglers. The good news is that the ones we’re finding seem to be very dumb. The bad news is, the smart ones are probably slipping through the net. We’ve got border checks set up for ships crossing into Federation space, but that’s a vast area. The other bad news is that we have confiscated Borg technology from them – not a lot, but some of it predates the Cube. New supply seems to have sparked new demand. Old Borg cybernetic trade operations which died out in ‘99 seem to have woken up.’

Rourke rubbed his temples. ‘Okay. Where are we at with emerging hotspots? Once Swiftsure and Endeavour are done?’

‘We have a hotspot,’ Faust pointed out. ‘It’s the Republic getting their hands on Borg technology.’

‘Captain Valance made an appropriate decision to cooperate with our allies,’ said Rourke. But a decision made by a captain on the frontier, with nobody to tell them what to do, sounded less fun when he was now the flag officer who had to deal with the fallout.

‘I don’t think debating Captain Valance’s decision is useful,’ said Faust to his surprise. ‘But it’s a reality we have to deal with. Commodore, I would like to dispatch a team to investigate what the Republic is doing with this technology and ascertain how secure it is in their hands.’

While Rourke was still considering his words, Xhakaza sat up and said, ‘You mean spy on them. Spy on our allies.’

Even through a holographic projector, Faust’s gaze was cool. ‘I mean assess a possible security threat immediately adjacent to Federation borders.’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Xhakaza said. ‘If we’re worried about them handling it, we should be sending them science teams to help.’

‘I’m not primarily worried that they’ll endanger themselves by pressing the wrong button – I feel like that’s a situation that will take care of itself. I’m worried that Commander Harrian will see what they took from Mesea on the black market tomorrow.’

‘We can’t control that, even if we had a spy watching their every move,’ Xhakaza pointed out. ‘And realistically, our spies can’t spot every breach in their security. We’ve got a better chance if we help the Republic – that reduces the odds something goes wrong and raises the odds they’ll tell us.’

Faust made a face. ‘I dislike stereotyping, but, Commander, you are suggesting the Romulan Republic will volunteer information about their internal security failures if we send them one science team to help?’

‘They don’t get a science team,’ Rourke said with a sigh. ‘We don’t have a spare science team. Ambassador Hale, can you try to use the goodwill bought us by Captain Valance to keep dialogues open with the Republic on this?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ she said with a guarded smile.

‘Then, in the meantime,’ said Faust, ‘I’ll dispatch teams to monitor the border on this end.’

Rourke looked at her projection. The subtext was plain: she would send Commander Daine, her spook of a security officer – or even Commander Garec, her brute of an XO – across the border if she deemed it necessary. But telling her directly to obey the treaty and not enter Republic space without permission would achieve, at most, an argument. He grunted his assent instead. ‘Anything else on hotspots?’

‘Runabouts handled the Borg debris beyond Scarix,’ said Harrian. ‘Nothing noteworthy. Hull fragments.’

‘We’ve launched further probes,’ added Faust. ‘If there are more signals out there, we’ll find them.’

‘Good. If that’s all, we get back to work.’ The meeting wrapped up with little more than formalities, and Rourke made another frustrated noise as he sat back. ‘What a bloody mess.’

Captain Daragon stood. ‘It has not escalated, at least, sir. Can I invite you both to dinner again?  The chef claims he’s perfected, ah, toad-in-the-hole.’ Taviel Daragon had the reputation of an old workhorse of an officer, an old-school Starfleet idealist captain who’d been banished to the hinterlands for opposing post-Mars policies. It made everyone overlook that he’d been born to Kriosian nobility – until they met him, at which point his perfect manners and effusive generosity shone through. He’d had them both to dine on their first evening aboard, offering a sumptuous meal of delicacies from a dozen worlds that had prompted from Rourke a wry comparison to hearty, stodgy, traditional cooking from his childhood. Likely enraptured by the ridiculous name, Daragon had made it his mission to feed his guest and squadron commander ‘a taste of home away from home.’

‘That sounds… great, Captain,’ said Rourke. ‘I look forward to it.’ He didn’t have the heart to explain his relationship with the dish was little more than ‘fond.’

‘I’m not sure what I’m about to eat,’ admitted Hale, ‘but you and I can find out together, Captain. I’ll be there.’

Daragon gave his broad, amiable smile. ‘Any discovery with you is an adventure, Ambassador. ‘Til later.’ His nod was so deep as to almost be a bow before he left.

Rourke sagged to rest his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes. ‘Oh, bloody hell.’

He was so deep into the momentary respite that he didn’t hear Hale rise, and his first awareness that she’d moved came from her hands at his shoulders. ‘I’m sure Daragon’s chef isn’t that bad.’

A wry chuckle escaped his lips, and Rourke sank back to lean against her as she stood behind his chair. ‘Borg mess everywhere, Xhakaza’s children on the second-biggest site of scientific intrigue in the sector’s history, I’m wasting Harrian chasing pirates, and Faust is about to send operatives to break a treaty with our allies on the off-chance they’re incompetent. A bad dinner might finish me off.’

Her fingers began to work at his shoulders, finding knots tighter than he’d known were there, even through the uniform jacket. ‘I’ll reach out to the Republic. We can work with the goodwill Valance has bought us.’

He sighed. ‘It’ll be another damn mess with Command. Policy -’

‘Is twenty-five years old. The political landscape has changed a lot since the Federation decided nobody should tinker with Borg technology. We’ve broken the spirit of it. With everything that’s going on, it would be naive to think Borg technology won’t fall into someone’s hands. We have to prepare for that reality instead of pushing for impractical goals.’

‘That might fly with your superiors. If Faust jumps the border and traces Borg tech leaving the Republic for the Synnef Nebula, I have to be ready to shield Valance.’

‘Which is why,’ said Hale, voice softer, ‘I’m going to buy some diplomatic victories with what she did.’

His shoulders eased, her presence and good sense doing more than her fingers in defeating the tension that had sunk into his bones since the Ranger’s original report. He tilted his head back to look up at her. ‘What would I do without you?’

‘Probably have a far more professional debriefing with the Diplomatic Corps’ representative to the Midgard Sector,’ Hale mused, a smile dancing about her lips.

‘But that would be less fun.’ His hand came up to hers for a gentle squeeze. ‘I need to get on the comms to Gateway. See if Dashell can spare anyone to join the Ranger. Those kids really need bringing closer to home than they are out there.’

‘They seem like they’re doing a good job. But help can’t hurt.’ She nodded. ‘I need to see if Malhotra will tell me anything about these Elkari at Rho Detara. I can’t believe Faust gave him a job…’

‘That was Daragon’s doing,’ Rourke said. Several former crewmembers of the USS Triumph, largely disgraced by Starfleet after Jericho took the blame for the Battle of Izar, had been taken aboard Redemption by Captain Daragon. Ranicus and Sterlah had, it transpired, served with Daragon before Jericho, and old loyalties died hard. That appeared to be reciprocal, Daragon making sure his new crewmembers’ old comrades were not left in the cold with no home and no respect. Rourke appreciated that – those officers didn’t deserve to see their careers harmed for Jericho’s pig-headedness and political sacrifice alike – but putting a man in a position as vulnerable as Malhotra under Faust left him uncomfortable. There was, however, nothing he could do about it.

Hale smiled wanly. ‘We can blame him over dinner.’

The work was long and hard. Not merely for the task at hand, but Rourke knew this was his future now. No more would he be taking his ship and crew into a phenomenon beyond communications reach, where they’d survive the elements by their wits and be forced to make decisions there, trusted as Starfleet captains were. No, he’d ride out this adventure from a desk – today, and for the rest of his career.

But it was made a much, much easier prospect by Sophia Hale leaning down to kiss him quickly before she departed to take on her own battles in this war they shared. Almost against his will, Rourke knuckled down to focus on the strategic display of the Midgard Sector gleaming before him in the CIC.

An hour later, a message flagged up, incoming from Endeavour. The ache in his heart was apprehension and jealousy alike and did not ease when he opened it and read the first sentence from Valance.

We have a new lead.

‘I’ve received an… unexpected message.’

Kharth wasn’t used to Elsa Lindgren sounding uncertain. But the pilot stood before the conference table and not only fidgeted but hesitated so long she had to lean forward and say, eyebrows raised, ‘You called this meeting, Lieutenant. You’re going to need to elaborate.’

Lindgren flushed. ‘Right.’ She had told Valance she had new information that might affect their mission. Rather than gather the whole senior staff or receive Lindgren one-on-one, Valance had gathered the mission’s senior personnel – her, Kharth, Cortez, Logan, and, to Kharth’s surprise, Beckett. But these were still mostly people Lindgren had worked with for years, and so the young officer rallied quickly, drawing a deep breath and pressing on.

‘At Sot Thryfar, I made contact with one of the Three Lost Crows – Gale, my escort when I was watching the runabout,’ Lindgren said, and Kharth nodded in recollection. ‘We talked a little about the situation in the Midgard Sector, and he alluded to what we suspect – that the group’s expansion of pirate operations isn’t because of us, but the Orion Syndicate. He seemed someone who was at least willing to talk, so I gave him my comm frequency and told him to get in touch if Starfleet could help.’

‘And he’s reached out,’ Valance surmised.

‘Is this anything to do with the Borg black market trade at Sot Thryfar?’ said Beckett. He looked a little subdued but not like he was about to repeat his outburst on the bridge.

‘I don’t know. The message is brief. All he says is that he has information about the Borg wreck he thinks Starfleet would want to know and that he’d like to meet. He’s picked a system just spinward of Sot Thryfar, near the Republic border, and says, uh…’ Lindgren checked her PADD. ‘“Don’t bring the whole damn starship.”’

Valance brought a hand to her temple. ‘That’s all he has to say? That he’s got information we’d want?’

Kharth pursed her lips. ‘We know from Beckett and Thawn’s pickup of the AIP and Harrian’s reports that the black market of Borg tech has really been heating up.’

‘And it’d be weird if that were happening right here, right now, without someone having their mitts on something from our busted Cube,’ added Logan. ‘Might be he’s got a lead on something we want.’

‘It might be nothing,’ Beckett pointed out, then shifted at their looks. ‘I don’t, uh, actually think that, but someone has to be on this side of the fence. It could be a trap, it could be a wild goose chase…’

‘We’ve been chasing signals that might lead to Borg data nodes we want, but might be absolutely nothing; this is a mission of wild gooses chases,’ Kharth snapped. Valance might have tolerated him after his outburst, but she didn’t have to.

‘Geese,’ said Logan.

‘What?’

‘Wild – “goose” is one of them words we make weird on the plural. Wild geese chases.’

‘Actually,’ offered Lindgren, the linguist, ‘it would just be wild goose chases. Chase is the plural in this case, not the birds.’

‘Commander.’ Valance’s voice was firm as she pivoted from the discussion to turn to Cortez. ‘What do we have off the Mesea Storm node?’

They had helped the Ihhliae limp to the edge of the plasma field, clearing the danger before the ion storms had swept in. Despite Beckett’s objections, Valance had kept her word and asked only for Cortez to be allowed to send a team to the Borg wreck while Perrek assisted in getting the Romulan ship back on her feet. They had found a secondary data processing node, far more exposed and less integrated into the Borg’s systems, and been able to by shuttlecraft alone extract it from the wreck. From there, the AIP had stripped data from its records without anyone donning a single EVA suit or setting foot on a Borg hull. The Ihhliae had been on its way, Borg wreckage in tow, not long after.

Cortez sucked her teeth. ‘It’s real early to tell yet, Captain. I’d want several days with this stuff at least to know what we’re dealing with.’

Valance nodded. ‘Commander Logan, do we have more homing signals on our sensors?’

‘Nothing we ain’t already accounted for and either dismissed or someone else is dealing with.’

Another nod. ‘Lieutenant Beckett, does the squadron have any further leads for us?’ As the young man shook his head, she straightened. ‘Then we head for this meeting point. High warp can get us there in a matter of days. That gives Cortez time to assess the data we’ve gathered and see if we have a more complete picture, or for us to pick up another lead.’

Lindgren winced. ‘Gale did say -’

‘And when we’re close – or if we find ourselves a new heading – we can send a team on the Excalibur,’ said Valance, raising a hand to forestall further interruption. ‘I assume he didn’t ask for you on your own, Lieutenant?’

‘He didn’t specify.’

‘Kharth, Logan, you’re up.’

Beckett squirmed. ‘Captain, may I – I know the situation in the Synnef Nebula; I need to keep abreast of factions like the Three Lost Crows -’

Valance grunted. ‘You may, Lieutenant. Is that all, everyone?’ At their silence, she stood. ‘Then let’s get underway. Report to the bridge, Lindgren, and set a course.’

‘Back and forth we bounce,’ sighed Kharth as she rose. ‘We only left that sector a week ago.’

But Logan caught her eye. ‘Better hope,’ he said with a crooked grin, ‘we don’t run foul of more wild gooses.’

Kharth was famous – infamous – for her sharp tongue and never very good at being the butt of the joke. Any retort, however, died in her throat before it could form, overwhelmed by the question smacking her in the face. Is he flirting with me?

In the end, all she could manage was a weak, ‘Yeah, I think they might be… dangerous,’ before Logan grinned more and headed for the bridge. Lamely, she followed at a distance but couldn’t get out before Cortez slid up beside her.

‘Is he flirting with you?’ she hissed as the doors shut behind them, and they stood in the alcove at the back of the bridge.

Kharth glowered at her as if she were a telepath. ‘People don’t flirt with me, Isa.’

‘Yeah, ‘cos you’re scary.’ Cortez looked from her to Logan’s retreating back. ‘But he doesn’t seem like he scares easy.’

‘He also seems like he should have better things to worry about than flirting with -’

‘Commanders. Excuse me.’

She’d been so wrapped up in the bicker that she hadn’t noticed someone step away from their station and approach the doors, likely to discuss something with Valance. Kharth was guilty enough when she whirled around, but when she saw who it was, she wished the deck would swallow her whole.

‘Commander,’ she said to Airex, throat tight. ‘Sorry. I didn’t realise we were in your way.’

He did not quite meet her eye as he stepped inside the conference room, then the doors shut, and they were alone again – except for, once more, the entire bridge.

‘Shit,’ Kharth hissed, pressing her hand to her forehead. ‘Let’s just get back to work.’

‘Yeah,’ said Cortez, looking thoughtfully at the door. ‘As that coulda been a real conversation there, and that would have been awful.’

‘How’s it going with Valance?’ Kharth said nastily.

It was Cortez’s turn to glare. ‘Alright. Fine. Decrypting creepy Borg data it is. Enjoy planning your wild goose chase with your chunk of the Appalachians there.’

‘I don’t even know where that is!’ Kharth whispered angrily at Cortez’s departing back.

Only once they were clear of the Mesea Storm, done with the Ihhliae, done with extracting the Borg data node, did Thawn have time to worry about anything else. Kally wasn’t top of her list, but she was the nearest person on her list, and when Thawn’s bridge shift finished, she went directly to the comms station. ‘Kally, have you got a minute?’

‘For you, Lieutenant?’ The young Ithenite brightened despite her obvious fatigue. ‘Always!’

Is there anyone you don’t have a minute for? Normally, Thawn would have found this perpetual perkiness grating. But it was difficult to be frustrated with Kally. ‘I wanted to check something with you – it could be nothing.’ She leaned against the railing and handed over a PADD. ‘It’s our computer processing records when we were hailed by the Ihhliae after we were hit by that ion storm. It looks a lot like a spike in our comms systems. More than should be there.’

‘Huh. It does at that. I don’t remember seeing anything.’ Kally spun on her chair, elevated so she could easily reach the controls, and brought up records. ‘I don’t see anything but the Ihhliae checking in with us if we needed help. Could this be something else?’

‘Very believably,’ sighed Thawn. ‘I’d been drawing a lot on emergency power…’

‘And you’d just reallocated power back. We had to punch through interference to get a clear signal to the Ihhliae. That could explain it.’ Kally didn’t sound fully convinced, but she didn’t sound particularly concerned, either. ‘We still don’t know much about this phenomenon. Do you want me to dig into it?’

‘No. It’s probably nothing.’ All manner of fluctuations in their systems could account for it; she’d only wanted to know if Kally had something in her records. ‘I’ll look closer myself.’

‘Okay, Lieutenant. But, uh.’ Kally winced. ‘You look tired. We’ll have ages to go through this data, and we’re leaving the plasma field behind.’

Knowing what was next on her priority list, Thawn almost objected. But that would be an excuse and an evasion, so she instead thanked Kally and headed for the turbolift. It was not to her quarters she went, however, but far deeper into the ship.

The doors to the SOC did not open on her approach, the display panel notifying her of the centre’s lockdown while sensitive data was being handled. She almost gave up again, but steeled herself and hit the button for a polite request for entry. If she was rebuffed, she would leave. Then she couldn’t say she hadn’t tried.

But moments later the doors did slide open, and when she entered, Beckett’s expression was sheepish as he saw her. ‘You’re fine,’ he said. ‘I was reading some reports; nothing that couldn’t wait.’

Intellectually, Thawn knew that classified reports right now were more likely to do with Borg encounters on the other side of the galaxy that didn’t affect her. Her gut nevertheless twisted at the idea of this many professional secrets he had to keep from her. On top of the personal ones. It meant her opening was more blunt than she might have liked when she said, ‘Is it stuff in there that made you yell at the captain?’

Beckett’s face dropped. ‘I didn’t yell. Somebody’s got to…’ His voice trailed off, and he stepped away from the main display towards her. ‘I’m in a weird spot as Chief Intelligence Officer. I have responsibilities outside of the ship. It’s literally my job to remind the crew about wider concerns than the situation in front of us. But I did get – maybe I…’ He stumbled over his words, then stopped and took a deep breath. ‘I got nervous. Didn’t handle it well.’

The situation had been tense; tense enough that Thawn’s recollection of exactly what was said or how it was said was, for certain, hazy. She’d had a myriad of concerns even before he’d confronted Valance. It was very, very easy to believe him. ‘You’re saying you were playing devil’s advocate, and the situation got away from you?’

He hesitated, picking up on her tension. ‘What’re you saying?’

Twisting her fingers together, she stepped forward. ‘That I think you meant what you were saying. That you were nervous, yes, but you were also desperate.’

‘Are you…’ He stiffened. ‘Did you read my mind?’

‘No!’ She realised only as she said it that the vehemence of this denial was about to seem two-faced to a non-Betazoid, and winced. ‘I didn’t read your thoughts. I sensed your feelings.’

‘And that’s better? I thought Betazoids didn’t do those invasions of privacy to aliens!’ In her silence, his outrage only grew, and Beckett waved a hand at the muted holographic display. ‘Why don’t you check in on what I’m feeling about the classified reports I just read? Get us a little breach of regulations on top of all this!’

‘I didn’t try to,’ she protested.

‘Oh, okay, you didn’t try to invade my privacy, it just happened…’

But there it was, amidst the roiling indignation. Sincere as it was, she could almost taste the kernel of relief – like she’d offered him a chance at deflection, and he’d taken it. Guiltily, Thawn closed her eyes. ‘Nate, can I explain?’

‘Why bother? Why don’t I just read your thoughts – oh wait, I can’t!’

The hint of petulance at least brought her a spark of frustration. She opened her eyes. ‘It’s really hard for a non-Betazoid to understand.’

Beckett gave an exaggerated, tired sigh as he set his fists on his hips and looked away. ‘Guess that yet again makes me a strange consolation prize to -’

‘I mean that reading you is sometimes like breathing, Nate!’ Hands clenched, she moved to be in his eye-line, desperate for him to see her, hear her. This silenced him for a moment with surprise and confusion, and she had to press on. ‘I do shut my senses out. From everyone. I have since I left Betazed. And it was like… blinding myself. It’s not like that for every Betazoid, but I’m a really powerful telepath, Nate, and so it had to be all or nothing. For ten years. It’s hard now for me to open myself back up, even to other Betazoids, sometimes.’ Her chest was heaving as if explaining this took running a marathon. ‘There’s a lot of reasons I’m the way I am – I know I’m difficult, I know I’m not easy to like, but some of that is honestly because it’s like I’ve tied one hand behind my back when talking to people.’

She knew, even to herself, she was talking around the core of the problem – both with them, and herself. The exquisite agony of being a Betazoid, a culture embedded with honesty and communication and embracing one’s feelings, only to be tied up by the needs and expectations not only of the rest of the galaxy, but her family – her duty. But this wasn’t about that, which made it easier to press on. She would rather explain this situation right here, right now, a hundred times over than think too hard about the family who had made her this way.

‘It’s different with you. I told you, back on Gateway when we left, that I could find you in the dark. That’s something I can control, yes. I’m not… I promise I’m not reading you constantly, sensing your feelings and your thoughts. But you need to understand that takes a conscious effort. If I’m stressed, or if I’m tired, or if I’m worried…’ She tilted her head to catch his eye, and found him quiet, startled. ‘I don’t hear your thoughts. But if I let my guard down, I feel you as easy as breathing.’

His shoulders fell, and she felt the perfect irony of the moment. In reaching out to him, now, she had to keep her guard up so she didn’t read him. She had to steel herself when trying to build their connection in case she bull-rushed over his boundaries. At length, he spoke, voice quiet. ‘Is it like that with everyone?’

Despite herself, she gave a frustrated huff. ‘You know it’s not.’

That brought a flicker to his lips, a wry acknowledgement. He shifted his feet and mumbled, ‘I don’t like the idea that you’ve got to… tie yourself up like that around me.’

‘I don’t like it either,’ she admitted. ‘But it’s the reality of being a Betazoid away from my people. Being in a relationship with a non-telepath.’

He was silent for a moment longer, clearly thinking. ‘It’s like… deafening yourself?’ She nodded, and he shifted again. ‘I really don’t like asking you to do that.’

‘It’s that, or I…’ She sighed. ‘I read your feelings as easy as hearing your words, and you can’t do the same for me.’ It wasn’t wholly true. She’d heard of inter-species relationships where the bond from the Betazoid could become so strong, they projected their feelings to the other person on a subconscious basis. But that was a deep, cavernous level of intimacy, and she did not think it was guaranteed.

‘And you knew this?’ He caught her eye again. ‘Before you came with me to Synnef?’

She continued twisting her fingers together. ‘I’d be lying if I said difficulties like this were the main reason I was pushing us away. But it was part of why I was afraid. Yes.’

He sighed and looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Can I… I know that’s not what you came here to talk about. You’re right, there was more on my mind than being nervous about challenging Valance. But can I ask you to trust me?’

Thawn gave an awkward nod. ‘Is this something about your job? You don’t have to answer -’

‘It is,’ he said with a flash of guilty relief. ‘It’s not about me hiding things from you. It’s about the Chief Intelligence Officer not being able to explain himself.’

‘That’s something we’re going to have to learn to navigate.’

‘It is. So, can we… park that? Until this mission is over?’ Thawn gave another mute nod, and he sighed with relief. ‘I guess we’re not in much of a state to talk about… this… right now, either,’ he said, gesturing between them. ‘I don’t even know how long I’ll be gone on the Excalibur. But what do I do to make this as easy as possible?’

‘I know there’s a difference between you lying to me, and you not volunteering every single thought and feeling you have. I want to try, I want to do my best, to respect your privacy. So, I guess…’ Thawn sighed. ‘If I ask you about something directly like this, please don’t lie to me? It’s okay to say you can’t talk about it, or don’t want to talk about it, but…’

‘I can’t fib to you, even if I’m just not ready to talk about something,’ he concluded, nodding. ‘Okay. I’ll be honest. But that means I need you to not push if I don’t open up.’

‘Deal.’

His shoulders sank with relief, then he gestured back towards the central holographic display. ‘I do, uh, still have some work to do.’

‘That’s fine. I should check in on Elsa.’

‘Ask her about her pirate fella.’ Beckett grinned, then sobered. ‘We’re okay?’

For half a heartbeat, she considered asking him about the processing spike. This was, she knew, instinct; nothing she’d seen or sensed of him gave her any reason to ask. But perhaps there had been something about the comms of the Ihhliae – perhaps the intelligence officer needed to know.

Instead, she swallowed it. Smiled. And said, ‘We’re okay,’ before kissing him on the cheek and leaving.

Asking him to not lie to her was, after all, a lot more fair if she didn’t put him in situations where he had to.

‘I don’t like this.’

Lindgren paused at the door to the Excalibur’s berth, bag slung over her shoulder, and turned to Thawn. ‘A mysterious meeting in the far reaches of an impenetrable nebula to talk with a pirate who was friendly to me once? Whatever’s the problem?’

Thawn made a face. Where Lindgren wore the away mission jacket and had her gear for a few days’ travel with her, Thawn was staying behind, and looked like that merely added to her list of complaints. ‘Remember to use the sensor calibration protocols I gave you to bypass the nebula’s interference. I’ve not fully tested it on Starfleet systems, but if it works for the Khalagu…’

‘I’ve got it. I do know my way around navigational systems, Rosara. It’s like I’m a pilot, or something.’ Lindgren adjusted her grip on the bag strap. ‘I know you came with us last time. I’ll make sure Nate doesn’t get into too much trouble.’

Thawn made a face ‘I’m not worried about him,’ she said, and sounded like she meant it. ‘He’ll either keep his head down or do something ridiculous and pull it off. You? You’re sensible. That’s dangerous.’

‘That makes no sense.’

‘You’re sensible,’ Thawn pressed on, ‘and you’re cavorting with pirates. Which isn’t sensible. That’s why I’m worried.’

‘These are people who’ve been out here since Starfleet left,’ Lindgren sighed. ‘They’ve got good reason to not like us and not trust us. This is a chance for us to show the good we do, that we don’t have to be the enemy.’

‘Sure. But these aren’t the refugees, the Romulan people we left. These are Federation citizens. Frontier life might be hard. But they still had a lot of choices before they took to their ships and became pirates. Reach out to them, sure. But don’t pity them.’

‘I can empathise without being blinded,’ Lindgren assured her gently, and was relieved when a change of subject occurred to her. ‘Oh, that thing you asked me to look at…’ She rifled around in her jacket for the PADD. ‘I think you’re right.’

‘You think it looks like a secure transmission?’ Thawn looked apprehensive before she took the PADD. ‘What about the power spike? Breaking through interference?’

Lindgren grimaced. ‘To me? That looks like someone didn’t just transmit a data package, they had to break a firewall. And do it through… the Mesea Storm’s interference.’ At Thawn’s sharp look, she rolled her eyes. ‘What the hell else would you be asking about? This isn’t a hypothetical. Is this something you found in the Ihhliae’s computer records?’

‘Sort of,’ said Thawn, and Lindgren resisted rolling her eyes at the enigmatic response. ‘Is there a reason this wouldn’t show up on comms records?’

‘There are a lot of ways to hide this sort of thing.’ She paused. ‘Is there a reason you’re not talking to Kally?’

For a beat, Thawn paused. Then she said, ‘Kally won’t consider the possibility I’m wrong. And I might be wrong.’

‘Wow. It’s been beautiful watching you grow up these last few years.’

‘I don’t -’

‘Hey, I better go, you know?’ Lindgren grinned, jerking a thumb at the hatch. ‘Don’t want to be late with Kharth on the clock.’

Thawn hugged her before she left, which Lindgren thought a little odd. The two of them had sort of slid into friendship, young women close in age and rank and the most junior of Endeavour’s senior staff upon arrival. Lindgren had always found Thawn standoffish and only the exuberance of Noah Pierce, in those early years, had broken through. They had both found friendship elsewhere, and only after Pierce had died and Endeavour had been thrown into fire after fire had the two women begun to spend much time together.

There had never been a moment where they realised they weren’t just colleagues who socialised because it was easy, but friends with an actual bond. It had just happened. They had still never quite reached the stage of hugging before parting ways.

Until now, apparently. Perhaps Thawn was trying to make up for running away for five weeks.

The rest of the away team joined Lindgren in the Excalibur not long before she finished their pre-flight sequence. Kharth hopped into the co-pilot’s chair while gesturing for Beckett to take science and Logan tactical, and there was minimal chit-chat as they got underway. They all knew the mission. There wasn’t much to discuss.

Endeavour had continued her sprint across the Midgard Sector, running laps like a racehorse, and even though the Excalibur was fast in her own right, they were much closer to Synnef much quicker than they would have been if they’d set off on their own after Gale’s message.

‘This should only be a twelve-hour flight,’ said Lindgren as the Excalibur burst free of her berth, deep in the belly of Endeavour, and broke into open space to tear towards the Synnef Nebula. They were still too far for it to be seen by the naked eye, but she knew it would not be long before they sunk into its purple depths.

Kharth nodded. ‘Do we have more on our destination than “some rock in Synnef?”’

‘I reached out to the Khalagu,’ said Beckett. ‘Only got an answer this morning – comms into and out of the nebula aren’t great, and we were a ways out. The system only has a designation, and they’ve no interest in it. Narien reports no inhabitable worlds, no signs of useful minerals or gases. It’s just one of those places in the cosmos that only an astrophysicist would love.’

‘If we run into trouble there,’ said Logan, ‘the interference of the nebula will delay our comms to Endeavour. We get in a ruck, an’ we’re gonna have to get ourselves out of it.’

‘Don’t worry. I know how we’ll stay out of danger.’ Kharth gave a wicked grin. ‘Charm.’

Beckett cleared his throat. ‘Commander, we -’

‘I meant Lindgren’s charm,’ said Kharth, rolling her eyes. ‘But your opinion is noted, Beckett.’

Lindgren laughed. ‘Oldest trap in the book, Nate. And you fell right into it.’

Logan laughed, too, and Lindgren felt her chest lighten as she accelerated the Excalibur to warp and plunged them into the cosmic unknown.

In open space, they would have arrived within eight hours. It did not take long, however, before the violet coils of the Synnef Nebula opened their arms to embrace the Excalibur. If flying in the Mesea Storm was like sailing into a cyclone, then forging into the Synnef Nebula was like sinking into tar.

‘These sensor recalibrations are workin’ a treat,’ said Logan, openly impressed, once they were two hours in. ‘Couldn’t see a damn thing even at these outskirts when we came in with Endeavour last month. It’s like someone wiped the canopy and it’s all clear now.’

‘It’s not perfect,’ Beckett warned. ‘The Khalagu don’t have particularly sophisticated navigational sensors to begin with.’

‘But they spent years figurin’ how to punch through the interference. Now we have that knowledge, and all our fancy tech. This is a game-changer, Nate.’ Logan looked over his shoulder at the young officer. ‘Good job getting this intel.’

‘And,’ said Lindgren, ‘making us those friends.’

‘I just hope we don’t need them,’ Kharth sighed, unbuckling her chair and standing. ‘Right, I don’t want anyone arriving tired. We’ve got six hours ‘til we get there; Lindgren, you and me are taking a three-hour break. Logan, Beckett, you’re up until then.’

Logan glanced up. ‘I won’t need a break.’

‘I don’t want -’

‘Commander, I ain’t being stubborn or nothing.’ His expression was open, almost apologetic. ‘I can go a lot longer than you without sleep or rest.’

Kharth clicked her tongue. ‘Your regeneration is also more efficient. If you bunk down for three hours with your mobile node, you’ll wake up fresh as anything when we get there. I say rest, you rest.’

Lindgren couldn’t help but look at Beckett as she stood, who wore the same wide-eyed, ‘the senior officers are fight-flirting’ expression she was trying to hide. To her relief, Logan merely lifted his hands and acquiesced, moving to the co-pilot’s spot as Beckett took the pilot chair.

‘This pirate of yours,’ muttered Kharth as they left the cockpit, ‘had better be worth it.’ As not only a trained pilot but a seasoned communications officer, Lindgren fell back on her diplomatic training and said nothing.

One hour out from their destination, Kharth had them drop a small sensor buoy. Lindgren didn’t understand why, but didn’t ask questions. An hour later, they exited warp at the periphery of their destination system, which from an initial glance at their sensors indeed looked like one of the many unremarkable clusters of rocks and gas littering the universe.

‘Can you still read the buoy?’ asked Kharth.

Beckett leaned over his console. ‘Loud and clear, Commander. Our sensors are punching through the nebula’s interference okay.’

Kharth nodded with satisfaction. ‘So we know that what we see is what we get. What do we see?’

Logan glanced up. ‘Only one ship in sensor range. An old Kaplan F17 in orbit of the sixth planet. Designated the Fool’s Errand.’

There was a chirrup of comm systems, and Kharth looked to the controls near her. But it was not coming through on the Excalibur’s main channel, and Lindgren gave an apologetic grimace as she reached for her station. ‘That’s coming in on my frequency.’ It was only a message, same origin as Gale’s original transmission, and was very short: Your turn to host.

‘It’s him,’ she confirmed with a sigh. ‘He’s requesting docking permission.

Kharth gave a gentle scoff. ‘At least that puts us on home turf. Let’s see what he wants.’

‘Nice digs.’ The Crow called Galen padded through the airlock with his hand on his phaser pistol. ‘Good to know the Feds travel in comfort.’

‘Yeah,’ said Kharth. ‘It’s incredible what can happen if you don’t choose to live in a shithole pretending it’s the moral high ground.’

Gale paused at the threshold between his ship and the Excalibur, the two ships docked in a gentle orbit of this pile of rocks in the middle of nowhere in Synnef. He looked at Lindgren. ‘I can give free info to someone else, you know…’

‘Nothing’s free,’ scoffed Kharth.

‘Okay!’ Lindgren raised her hands. ‘Can we try this again? Hi, Gale. Good to see you. Thanks for getting in touch.’

The Crow gave a theatrical bow. ‘And thank you, Elsa, for responding. Any chance of some hospitality?’

Kharth looked at Beckett, Beckett looked indignantly back at her, Logan stared at the ceiling, and Lindgren gave another sound of frustration. ‘How about we all go up to the lounge and sit there? And I’ll get the drinks.’

‘I want the most exotic thing your replicator does,’ said Gale as he amiably followed up the steps.

‘There’s this one great drink – it’s called an Arrest Warrant,’ grumbled Kharth. Lindgren gave her a sharp look, but the XO’s gaze was inscrutable. If this was a deliberate negotiation tactic, Kharth wasn’t giving anything away even to her own side.

‘I’ll sort the drinks,’ said Logan as they reached the top of the stairs, nudging Lindgren in a reassuring way. ‘Let’s talk, Gale – do I get to call you Gale?’

‘Don’t really care what you call me, Tin Man,’ said Gale, pulling up a chair around the circular table of the Excalibur’s lounge. ‘We going to talk business or flirt all day?’

Kharth sat opposite him and shrugged. ‘You asked for this meeting.’

‘Yeah. ‘Cos there’s things going on I think we both care about.’ Gale swept a hand across the air. ‘Borg.’

Kharth’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘We’ve noticed. Is that all?’

‘Oh, so you know all about the Borg tech black market in Synnef? Where it’s operating, who’s doing it, where it’s going? Where they’re getting stuff from?’ Gale went as if to stand up. ‘I guess this was a waste of time -’

‘Gale, please.’ Lindgren sighed. ‘Can we stop the posturing? Everyone? If this is about Borg tech out here, nobody wants that unchecked. Even, I’m figuring, the Three Lost Crows?’

Gale shrugged. ‘Makes us money.’

‘Borg technology,’ said Beckett in a careful, level voice, ‘is a game-changer. If it falls into the hands of your rivals, they can leapfrog you inside a year.’

‘If,’ said Logan, bringing over a tray of steaming mugs of hot drinks, ‘they can make use of it. But the lieutenant’s right; even a small operation can integrate sensor equipment, engine coils, even power conduits to beef up their ships.’

Gale smacked his lips as he examined the drink Logan had put in front of him: a marshmallow-stacked hot chocolate. ‘You figure me for a sweet tooth?’

‘I know treats ain’t exactly a constant in places out here,’ said Logan with a shrug.

Gale grinned. ‘I’ll take it. And your tin man’s right,’ he said to the others with a nod. ‘Which sounds awful bad for you all, too, huh?’

Kharth rolled her eyes. ‘So we have a mutual interest in this black market getting shut down. But let me guess – you’re fine with this stuff ending up in the hands of the Three Lost Crows?’

‘I don’t know; I’m sort of a fan of the status quo, and I don’t reckon you’d help me capitalise quite that shamelessly.’

She tilted her head at him. ‘You don’t want the Orion Syndicate getting their hands on it. Which means it’s easier if nobody has it.’

Gale went stiff at that, and Lindgren smothered a smile. Kharth had indeed lulled him into a false sense of security, her antagonism only inciting him to show his hand further. The XO was not a diplomat, but she knew how to get under people’s skin. The pirate glanced at Lindgren. ‘I never said anything about the Syndicate.’

‘You didn’t,’ Lindgren agreed. ‘Ours wasn’t the only conversation the team had at Sot Thryfar, though.’

‘But thanks,’ said Kharth. ‘We only suspected the Syndicate were getting their fingers into the sector. And the Crows.’

Gale worked his jaw and sighed. ‘Yeah. Alright.’ He sat up and cracked his knuckles. ‘Rator collapsed, and the Syndicate saw their chance. This was a nothing backwater, now it’s an all-you-can-eat buffet for them. And like I said: I’m a fan of the status quo.’

‘You think,’ said Kharth, ‘we’re going to help you kick the Syndicate out?’

‘I think you want to kick the Syndicate out,’ he said with a shrug. ‘And you don’t want them getting Borg tech. And I think that’s more important to you than anything else – than a little outfit like the Crows. So I think, yeah, today, you want to kick the Syndicate in the teeth. And so do I.’

Logan glanced between them. ‘We’ve talked generally. But you ain’t talked specifics.’

‘I’m not giving you ways of shutting down my captains or anything like that,’ Gale warned. ‘But that’s just the symptoms. What if I told you how to take out the disease?’

Kharth scoffed. ‘The disease is the Borg tech itself. We’re working on that.’

‘Alright, alright, Commander Literal.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Let’s go with the heart of the op, then. Shall we?’ At their silence, he grinned and opened his hands. ‘Anything Borg that’s picked up by anyone who wants to work in the Midgard Sector gets handed over to the Syndicate. They strip it down, pull the components they can use, figure out what can be modified. They turn salvage into commodities. All from one place right here, in Synnef. One miserable rock of nothing hidden in the nebula, with a state-of-the-art tech lab sitting right on top of it.’

Logan sat up at that and looked at Kharth. ‘If we drop Endeavour on that…’

She grimaced. ‘Then the salvagers just take their haul elsewhere, surely?’

Gale shook his head. ‘There is nowhere else. Sot Thryfar doesn’t want raw Borg wreckage being brought aboard. Somewhere will come along, for sure. But that’ll take time. But here’s where it gets tricky. How far out’s your ship?’

Kharth met his gaze. ‘I’m not telling you that.’

‘Fine. Point is, in two days, the lab sends out a big shipment. It’ll slip across the Republic border by the nebula, then back into Fed space further rimward, or into the Triangle, or into the Empire. Nowhere good. You took your time getting to me. The lab’s further into the nebula than here. Can your ship get here in time?’

Beckett winced. ‘You’re suggesting we take on their lab with a Waverider.’

‘It’s a secret lab, not a big lab, or a well-guarded lab. Too much activity means anyone can spot it, even in Synnef,’ Gale pointed out. ‘Slip by some local patrols, land on the rock, and you can take out a half-dozen guards; you’re Starfleet.’

Kharth turned to look out the viewport, working her jaw. At length, she said, ‘And what’s in this for you? Seriously.’

‘Seriously?’ He sighed. ‘It sticks a thorn in the side of the Syndicate. Makes them weak. Which weakens their hold on the Midgard Sector, which means me and mine have to listen to them less. Yeah, you’re doing me a favour.’ Gale caught her eye and gave her a wicked grin. ‘I’m the devil you know.’

Unimpressed, Kharth met his gaze. But after a heartbeat, she sighed. ‘You’re not. But the devil I do know is the Syndicate, and I don’t care for that kind of hell.’

Gale met that with a humourless laugh. ‘You choose rightly.’ He reached into his jacket and pulled out a slim, civilian-design PADD. ‘The coordinates of the lab. Nice doing business with you.’ He put it on the table and slid it over, then stood.

‘I’ll see you out,’ said Lindgren, getting to her feet.

They were alone in the cargo bay before either of them spoke. Gale paused, hands on his hips as he looked at the airlock, then back at her. ‘For all the song and dance this was… thanks.’

‘I told you Starfleet was here to help. And that I’m here to listen. I couldn’t exactly fall flat on my first try, could I?’ She gave him a small, sweet smile she hoped was a little infuriating.

‘You haven’t done anything yet,’ said Gale.

‘And all you’ve done is rat out your colleagues, so be careful with that moral high ground, huh?’

‘Fair play.’ He laughed, then sobered quickly. ‘Be careful with the lab. Especially if it’s just the four of you. I reckon you can take it; they’re relying on secrecy, not heavy defences. But it won’t be easy.’

‘We’ll be fine. Commander Kharth and Commander Logan know their way through a scrape.’ She tilted her head. ‘If it’s so secret, how do you know about it?’

Gale grinned. ‘I got my ways.’ He went from standing to swaggering in an instant as he stepped towards the airlock. ‘Nice chatting, Elsa. Good hunting.’ The airlock hatch slid shut behind him, and then he was gone. Only a minute later, she heard the hiss and felt the rumble of his Kaplan disengaging with the Excalibur, breaking the seal and heading on its way.

‘…could be right out of our depths,’ Logan was saying to the other two as she returned to the lounge. The holo-projector on the table had been activated, and the map of the Synnef Nebula – such as Starfleet knew it, even with Beckett’s additional knowledge – hung between them. There was a decent distance between them and the destination Gale had given them, deeper into the nebula’s depths.

‘You mean,’ said Beckett, ‘just because he says we can handle the guards doesn’t mean we can?’

Logan shook his head. ‘I reckon we can scope a place out, bypass any local patrols by running dark in a place like Synnef – surely you’ve got some Khalagu-learnt tricks up your sleeve on that front – and deal with who’s on the ground. But what do we do when we get there?’

Beckett blinked. ‘Shut down a black market tech lab.’

‘Blow up the equipment?’ said Logan. Beckett nodded. ‘Shoot the guards?’ Another nod, and Logan straightened. ‘Phasers set to kill or to stun?’

‘Ah,’ said Beckett.

Lindgren looked between them. ‘They’ve got to have expertise there. People who know what to do with the Borg tech. If all we do is shut down their equipment, that’s a setback, but it doesn’t ruin their whole operation, does it?’

‘We don’t have space on the Excalibur,’ sighed Beckett, ‘to arrest a whole weapons lab.’

‘And we don’t have time,’ said Lindgren, ‘to wait for Endeavour. I’m not sure we can even signal her from here without tracking back a bit. And we only have two days.’

Beckett shifted. ‘We can’t let that shipment make it into the black market. And we can’t let the Syndicate make off with the knowledge they’ve accrued these past weeks.’

Logan folded his arms across his chest. ‘And we don’t get to blow up a lab and all the people in it. I don’t care what they’ve done.’

Beckett blew out his cheeks. ‘Maybe there’s another ship there we can convert into a jail, truss them up and put them aboard and fly out…’

‘No.’ Kharth had been quiet, her eyes on the map. ‘We’re not taking any of these chances. We’re not tracking back; Endeavour’s out of the question. We’re not making a plan to let these technicians go, or summarily execute them.’ She reached up and traced a finger in an arching line between them and their destination. ‘Can we manage this route in two days?’

Lindgren tilted her head as she calculated. ‘With Nate’s help with our navigational sensors… yes.’

Kharth nodded, and straightened. ‘Then let’s get moving.’

The Gill 214 system could have been a fine prospect for the Federation or Romulans alike, with at least one planet capable of sustaining life and signs of rich mineral deposits at the outer rim. With the right investment, it could have flourished as a colony site or an industrial hub, and brought wealth and investment to this fraught frontier. But Gill 214 lay deep within the Synnef Nebula, long a natural border for the two old great powers, and a phenomenon none could enter lightly if they wanted to see through the shadows of sensor interference.

It was into those shadows that the Excalibur fell now. Bussard collectors had drawn in a trace of nebula gases to emit them from their exhaust on the approach, masking their warp signature as nothing but the natural flows and eddies of Synnef. That had seen them past two patrol ships, both light craft that even this Waverider-class could perhaps match – but only if they didn’t call for reinforcements.

‘Dropping out of warp. Hang on,’ called Lindgren, hands tight on the controls. Their options had been to come hard and fast, emerging on top of the fourth planet that housed the illicit research lab, but proclaiming their arrival to everyone – or to slip in at the far side of the sixth planet, a massive gas giant, and approach by stealth. The former took precise navigation under difficult flight conditions. The latter took that same precise navigation, and then a complex series of manoeuvres to approach without being spotted.

The Excalibur slowed to impulse, the gas giant filling the canopy. The moment they were stable, Kharth reached for the controls to kill all non-essential systems, and reduce their sensor profile to next-to-nothing. ‘Running silent,’ called the XO.

‘Letting gravity take over for a bit,’ confirmed Lindgren, the Excalibur falling into a natural orbit.

In the back, Beckett consulted his controls. ‘I’m not picking up any ships in the system. Only signature on sensors are those two patrol boats we passed, and a power signature from the vicinity of the lab.’ Kharth tried to not hold her breath as the young officer continued reading, and knew that silence for several minutes was good news. At length, he said, ‘No signs of movement. Don’t think they’ve spotted us.’

‘This was the easy part,’ Kharth warned.

‘Hell, no,’ said Logan gently. ‘Top flying so far, Elsa. Keep this up, we’ll slip right through the net.’

It was not, Kharth reasoned, completely outrageous to compliment the team on the work they’d done to get to this point, and buoy up their spirits ahead of the next complicated challenge. But it was still also, in her view, premature, and she cleared her throat. ‘Let’s keep moving.’

Logan’s compliments were not, it transpired, misplaced. Under Lindgren’s controls, the Excalibur gently glided around the gas giant, her thrusters modulating her speed with minimal use of engine power. A slingshot around a moon on the far side broke them away, catapulting into open space to soar towards the fourth planet. Under normal circumstances, this would not have been enough to keep them hidden from sensors. But the Synnef Nebula fell like a blanket across all means of detection, and with the lessons Beckett had brought from the Khalagu, they knew how to weave themselves with these shadows.

‘Timing is perfect,’ Lindgren confirmed. ‘We’re coming up on the far side of the planet. If we drop to an atmospheric flight, we can stay low and avoid their sensors as we approach the lab.’

‘And just hope,’ breathed Beckett, ‘that they don’t have an army waiting for us.’

Kharth didn’t chide him for that, because she shared the concern. More pressing for her, however, was the difficult flight coming up for their pilot. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Lindgren, she thought as they began to streak into the upper atmosphere of the rocky M-class planet where the Syndicate’s lab lay. It was that she’d known Lindgren for over two years as a communications officer. It was all very well and good for Valance to let her move to head up flight control as a department head and a bridge officer, with Lindgren qualified as a pilot at the academy. It was another thing entirely for the mission, and their lives, to fall into her inexperienced hands.

But the Excalibur streaked through the upper atmosphere of Gill 215 IV, and though Kharth kept a tight grip on her seat’s handles as the rocky surface came rushing up towards them on the canopy, Lindgren pulled them out of their dive perfectly. Even if ‘perfectly’ meant ‘early enough to not die, so late to keep them as close to the surface as possible.’

Kharth was a little relieved to hear Beckett behind her breathe, ‘Holy shit, Elsa, did you want to shave the surface?’

Lindgren gave a low laugh. ‘You planned this approach, Nate.’

‘It looked a lot less terrifying on paper!’

‘Don’t listen to him,’ said Logan in the same chiding voice. ‘You’re makin’ this look easy.’

‘Who said I don’t find it easy?’ said Lindgren lightly, and swerved the Excalibur down into a rocky valley to begin their race across to the next hemisphere.

Kharth blew out her cheeks, her grip on the chair still tight. ‘If you think this is easy, then the next part will just be a breeze.’

They could sneak across light-years by blending with the background of the nebula, slide across a system with expert systems management, and cross a continent by flying so close to the surface the sensors couldn’t pick them up. What the away team could not do, as they approached the pre-fab structural modules, was land a runabout right in front an Orion Syndicate illicit research lab and not, finally, be noticed.

The last new world Kharth had set foot on was in the Koperion System, that garden world of towering trees and deep cerulean lakes. Twigs had crunched underfoot as birds fluttered out of branches, startled, only for peace and serenity to settle around them again. The surface of Gill 214 IV, on the other hand, crunched with scree underfoot, and she heralded her arrival with the blast of a phaser rifle.

It wasn’t that the trio of burly Orion men who’d come running out from the main doors to the facility hadn’t been ready for trouble. Starfleet arriving could only be bad news. But she fancied they hadn’t expected her and Logan to storm down the ramp and immediately open fire with no call for surrender, no call for a warning.

She could fill that paperwork later. Now she had Borg technology to secure.

She’d stunned one of the guards in an instant, but it had taken Logan, on her left flank, hardly a blink longer to shoot two. Then the guards were in the dirt, and all that lay around them was the grey, rocky, barren landscape of the planet, and the hard-worn metal bulkheads of the modular research facility. It would have been flown in piece by piece, facilities landed and added as the needs of the site grew, but it was not, Kharth thought with some relief, very big.

‘We’ve got your back,’ said Beckett and Lindgren, descending the ramp behind them. ‘Let’s hope all welcomes here go so well.’

Kharth did not look over her shoulder as she advanced on the doors and addressed Lindgren. ‘I’d feel better if you stayed with the ship.’

‘We’ve no idea how much resistance we’re about to face. You need numbers,’ came the pilot’s cool, clear point.

The last time you were in a firefight, thought Kharth, the D’Ghor had boarded us. They nearly killed you. That was two years ago. But she was trained like anyone else and, worse, she had a point. They needed numbers.

Logan was by the main doors, which had slid shut behind the guards. He ran his tricorder over them. ‘Picking up two life signs, right on the other side.’

Kharth went to the other side and set her back beside the door controls. ‘Beckett. Flash grenade.’ He’d had Hazard Team training. He knew how to deploy while she and Logan could mop up.

It went like clockwork. The doors sliding open an inch, Beckett’s toss of the grenade. A beat. A thoooom. Then the doors opened and in surged the two security veterans, and once again, burly Orions hit the deck, finished off by precise phaser fire if the grenade hadn’t been enough. As the sound of weapons fire and falling bodies faded to an echo, Kharth paused in the gloom of the long entranceway, and finally took stock of her surroundings.

The problem with these pre-fabs was that they all looked the same, but could be easily reconfigured. Her instincts told her that there’d be offices through the door to her left, but there was no guarantee of any such thing. But the corridor was long and looked like it went through the whole of the facility like a spine, or near enough. Taking up position under the cover of a corridor archway, Kharth gestured for the others to take shelter, and finally called out.

‘Syndicate! This is Starfleet. We’re shutting down this operation. Come out with your hands up!’

For a moment, nothing answered her but the echo of her own voice. Then a door much further down slid open, and a reedy voice answered. ‘I’m coming out! Don’t shoot!’

She was an Orion woman in a lab coat, hands high in the air. And the moment she saw that her guards were down, she told them everything.

The facility was old, dating back to the late-80s, when the Syndicate had first aspired to move into the old Neutral Zone after the Romulan supernova. In that time it had thrived, lying off the beaten track from most of the illicit research labs, many of which had profited off their proximity to the Artifact. Gill 214, on the other hand, had profited by lying far away enough to evade scrutiny.

But two years ago, the Artifact had gone and the biggest players in the Borg tech black market had been taken out. The facility had almost been forgotten about, until the Syndicate had returned to the Synnef Nebula. Even then, the intention had been to repurpose it; shuffle off what goods were left, and then turn it to some other design. Until the Cube. Until the remains of the Wreck had come in.

‘This all came in a week ago,’ said the Orion scientist as she led them around a storage room behind the main processing lab. ‘A section of the Cube was found inside the nebula. It’s probably not the only piece. But we’ve been stripping it down for parts.’ She shifted her weight under Kharth’s cool glare. ‘You should know that many of our best buyers are inside Federation territory.’

‘And I’m sure,’ said Kharth sternly, ‘you can tell us all about it.’

‘There was a device being sold at Sot Thryfar,’ said Beckett, and gave a rough date of their acquisition of the AIP. ‘Anything to do with here?’

The scientist, probably smelling a plea bargain in her future, nodded enthusiastically. ‘An old piece. Likely from the Artifact. Kept in storage here. We extracted it, fixed it up. Perfect for your hacking needs.’

‘Yeah,’ growled Logan. He stalked the rows of shelves like a panther, examining every secure crate. In here, there was no sign of Borg technology itself, all of it locked away, sealed, hidden. ‘Perfect if you’re going to dance with the devil.’

The Orion shrugged. ‘Hell bends to the strongest will.’

Logan grunted, and they returned to the main lab. They had plainly not interrupted any work, with everything also carefully stowed, but Kharth recognised the equipment from the sorts of facilities she’d worked with Cortez in. None of this was second-rate, all of the highest quality. The Syndicate had spared no expense on a place like this.

Beckett paused at a corner, and flashed his torch down to a crate lying in shadows. Kharth almost heard him hesitate. ‘This is Republic-issue.’

The Orion gave another shrug. ‘Some borders leak more than others. But I’m not going to talk about that until we’re really trading.’

Beckett rounded on her with a glare. ‘Trading?’

She met his gaze coolly. ‘I’ve shown cooperation so far. Demonstrated goodwill. Once we get out of here, then we discuss what laxity I’m shown in exchange for information. That’s how this works, darling.’

‘You’ll be lucky to -’

‘She’s right,’ said Kharth roughly. ‘Our priority here is to stop this shipment falling into the wrong hands.’

The Orion looked breezily back to the storage room. ‘You’ll struggle to deal with everything in your little runabout.’

Kharth turned to tell her to shut up, but then she saw Logan. He’d approached a door she’d not seen at the rear of the lab, closed with no sign. Something about it had made him tighten his grip on his phaser rifle, and he looked back to them.

‘What’s in here?’ There was a shift to the pitch of his voice she couldn’t place.

Either the Orion knew something or she, too, was picking up on the tension. ‘Empty workspace.’ But it was too smooth an answer. Logan grunted, and opened the door.

He stood in the threshold for a moment, staring into the shadows the others were too far away to see through. Kharth assumed his eyes were adjusting to the darkness, then he stood there a second more. And another. And another. But when he moved, it was as if he used a transporter as he stepped not into the room, but back.

The next thing Kharth knew, Logan had grabbed the Orion scientist and slammed her onto a worktable. ‘Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn’t give you a taste of your own work,’ he snarled. The phaser rifle had been slung over his shoulder, and instead, he reached for a metal cutter on the workbench.

‘Logan!’ Kharth flew forward, but he’d been braced for her, his arm coming out to hold her at bay as she reached him.

The Orion struggled as his forearm clamped across her windpipe. ‘…wasn’t… me…’ she rasped. ‘…not… my area…’

‘Yeah?’ Logan snarled, face in hers. He shoved the cutter under her chin. ‘What did you do instead? Watch? Take notes?’

‘Commander!’ Now Kharth had a grip on his shoulder and yanked him back. ‘That’s enough!’

He rounded on her, broad and muscular and furious in a way she was not accustomed to finding intimidating. Kharth fancied she could hold her own against most people, but knew, in that heartbeat, that if Jack Logan wanted a fight, he would win. ‘Enough,’ he growled. ‘Go look in there and tell me some plea-deal for information where she walks five minutes later is enough.’

Behind her, Lindgren had cautiously padded to the door – and took three steps sharply back, hand coming to her mouth. ‘Oh my God.’

Kharth didn’t move, didn’t take her eyes off Logan. ‘Take a walk, Commander. Go. Now.’ For a moment, the decision hung in the balance. Then he turned on his heel and, like a mountain changing course, stalked back to the gloomy corridor of the facility.

‘He can’t help it, Commander,’ rasped the Orion, rubbing her throat as she got to her feet. ‘It’s in his nature.’

‘Shut up,’ Kharth snapped, storming towards the mysterious door. ‘Beckett, watch her.’ Beckett was wide-eyed, gaze flickering from door to Lindgren to where Logan had disappeared, but at her instruction, he nodded, and adjusted his rifle. He looked as off-balance as the rest, and she wondered if he needed sterner words to get him to settle down.

Then she reached the door, and Beckett’s composure became a lot less important than her own.

She’d tasted the metal tang in the air when Logan had opened the door. But the main lab stank of oil and chemicals, and that had given her all the excuse she needed to pretend she didn’t know what she could smell. There was no disguising, now, the taste of blood on her tongue, the stench filling her nostrils. Stood in a workshop to take apart and analyse equipment, technology, she needed to take only one step through a doorway to enter not another research facility, but an abattoir.

‘XBs,’ she heard Lindgren say from behind her, and it was unclear if she was speaking aloud for the benefit of Beckett, an accusation against the Orion, or to exorcise what she’d seen. ‘They’ve been murdering xBs.’

There was not much left. A storage rack for extracted cybernetics. Equipment bearing all the signs of being well-used. A table used for autopsies.

No, thought Kharth as a memory came at her, old reports from years ago, roiling in from recollection as if the here and now was a million light-years away from anything else she’d ever known. Autopsies are for the dead. They need the cybernetics fully functional until the last possible second before they extract them. This was vivisection.

When she walked back into the main lab and sealed the door behind her, she felt very cold. She looked at the Orion, whose impassive veneer looked dented by more than Logan’s manhandling of her. ‘I do hope someone else was responsible for the work in there,’ Kharth told her blandly. ‘Because you’re going to need a bigger fish to sell out.’

It wasn’t discipline that meant she hadn’t reacted like Logan. It probably had a lot to do with the fact he was an xB, but that made him angrier; it didn’t make her calmer. She kept her cool and did her job not, in that moment, because of commitment to the Federation’s higher ideals. But simply because what she had seen was so horrific that she didn’t know how to respond. In the absence of anything else, there was the job.

At last, the Orion rolled her eyes. ‘Starfleet sanctimony,’ she sighed. ‘Don’t you get it? They’re already dead. The Borg already killed them.’

Somewhere in the galaxy, Kharth thought, there would be a theological interpretation to back that up. When she heard the thudding footsteps of Logan rushing back in, she thought, implausibly, he’d overheard and was coming back for a second round. But, wild-haired and furious as the xB looked, he was also looking at her, not the Orion.

‘Shuttles are breakin’ atmo,’ he said, chest heaving. ‘We got company.’

Lindgren blinked into action, then, pushing away from the bulkhead to lift her tricorder, synched with the Excalibur’s sensors. She swore. ‘There’s a Syndicate scout ship in orbit.’

The Orion laughed, her relief audible. ‘Of course I didn’t just lock the doors and hope for the best the second a Starfleet ship set down. I called for reinforcements.’

Kharth looked at her. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

Sometimes, the galaxy did her a favour. Amidst Borg wreck and near-assimilation and slaughterhouses of hunted and murdered xBs, the scale tipped back a micron as Lindgren’s tricorder bleeped again, and the pilot called out, ‘The USS Tempest has dropped out of warp!’

‘What do you know?’ Kharth snapped her fingers. ‘I did think of that.’

Mere minutes later, her combadge beeped. ‘Tempest to Excalibur team. Heard you called for some cavalry?’ came the bold, confident voice of Commander Harrian Cal.

Normally, Kharth would have given a wicked grin at such an auspicious chain of events. Now she could barely managed a weak smile. ‘You’ve got great timing, Commander. We’ve got detainees and evidence galore down here.’

‘So I see. There’s a scout in orbit we just disabled. A couple of shuttles breaking atmo we’ll run down. Then we’ll send some assistance. See you in a few, Kharth. Tempest out.’

Kharth turned to the Orion, whose smugness had evaporated. ‘You’re about to get,’ she said, her tight smile intact, ‘a lot more intimate with Starfleet sanctimony.’

‘We should have brought Rosara or Cortez,’ grumbled Beckett as he peered at the object inside the containment field in the Excalibur’s cargo bay.

Kharth grunted, arms folded over her chest. ‘Your girlfriend’s not here. Do your best.’

‘Your girlfriend’s not here, you do your best,’ Beckett muttered. Then he froze as if he’d not realised he’d said that aloud.

Before Kharth could figure out what hell to unleash on him, Harrian chuckled. ‘He’s got you there.’ He nodded to Beckett. ‘I’ve seen all the same reports you have, Lieutenant. It looks about right.’

‘We’re talking about a Borg data processing node. There’s not much “about” here.’ Beckett sighed and straightened. The arrival of the Tempest had stopped the Syndicate both staging a counter-attack or escaping, the scout disabling the ships before Harrian had sent boarding parties there and to the surface. Now the Orions were languishing in the Rhode Island-class’s brig, the devices in the lab were in the cargo bay, and they’d gone over it with a fine tooth comb before identifying one device, labelled as arriving at the system only days previously, as possibly of use to Endeavour’s mission.

‘At worst,’ said Harrian, ‘it’s a gift for the team at Lockney.’ He turned back to Kharth. ‘I should get the Tempest out of here. I don’t love hauling all of this gear back to Gateway, but I need to get our new detainees off the block ASAP.’

‘The Orions were tinkering with this stuff, getting it ready to move, and it did nothing. Call Redemption if something wakes up.’ Kharth straightened. ‘Thanks for the save, Commander. This would have been messy without you.’

‘Any time. But you’re the one who threaded the needle on getting in comms range and still getting here in time. I’ll make sure the commodore knows.’ Harrian smiled at her, she couldn’t bring herself to make a sarcastic comment about earning Rourke’s approval. The Bajoran was just too damned likeable.

She let him leave, beaming back to the Tempest, and looked at Beckett. ‘It’s what we’ve got. And at worst, we shut down that operation.’

‘Oh, it’s all in a day’s work, Commander.’ Beckett straightened. ‘You’re just not going to be mocked if we’ve brought them back a hunk of junk.’

‘…not by my girlfriend?’ Kharth deadpanned.

‘I -’

‘Let’s get going. We need to get out of the damn nebula before we can even tell where Endeavour even is.’ She glanced up towards the rest of the runabout. ‘Is Logan still in the bunkroom?’

‘Uh. Yes.’ Beckett shifted his feet. ‘It’s fine. I don’t need to sleep. Ever.’

Kharth hesitated. Then sighed. ‘Go tell Lindgren to get us underway. I’ll check in.’

Beckett’s relief was palpable, the young man practically evaporating once given permission to leave. She’d hoped he’d put up a pretense of objecting and give her more time to procrastinate, but then she was alone in the cargo bay with the hunk of Borg wreckage.

It didn’t look like much. They’d pulled the power sources, with the Tempest’s Commander Far double-checking there were no backups to activate homing signals. The Orions themselves had taken measures to avoid bringing the wrath of the Borg down upon them. All they were left with now was a dull, obsidian-black chunk of metal. If activated, emerald lights would crackle across it like a spider’s web, belying its origins, but for now, it was plain and dead. She hoped it stayed that way.

The second bunkroom on the Excalibur was equally dim and still. Even the faint rumbling of the runabout getting underway, its progress through the nebula far from smooth, could not break the silent tension as Kharth stepped through the door. ‘Logan? Can I turn on a light?’

A shadow moved on far lower bunk, and with a groan, Jack Logan swung his feet over and sat up. ‘You don’t knock?’ he grumbled.

‘Beckett said he didn’t want to come in here. I figured you weren’t asleep.’ She turned on a dim light anyway. He looked pale and tired.

‘Maybe I’m just scaring him in his sleep.’ He scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘I… apologise for the outburst down there.’

Kharth leaned against the bulkhead and folded her arms. ‘You apologising is the least of my concerns. I should apologise for not letting you melt her head off.’

‘It wouldn’t have helped.’ Logan sat hunched over, arms on his knees, and stared at the deck. ‘But go on, then.’

‘What?’

‘Say your piece. Whatever way you’ve gotta slice it.’

She squinted. ‘Do you think I’m in here to chastise you?’

‘Your security chief lost his cool an’ attacked a suspect on an away mission…’

‘In the sort of incident I report to the counsellor. Not to Valance. Logan, I came in here to check if you’re okay.’

He looked up at that, startled. Then his expression fell. ‘I don’t like gettin’ angry,’ he said at length. ‘But down there, it were like my only options were that or folding in two.’

‘I get that.’ She advanced to the small desk chair and sat, turning it to face him. ‘I’m sorry we found… what we did. I’m sorry this was news. I’m sorry we weren’t there sooner.’

‘…you do get it, sorta, don’t you,’ he mused, gaze dropping again. ‘Show the wrong emotions. Too much, too little. An’ all you do is prove to folks that you’re not people, that you don’t feel like they do. Is that it for a Romulan? Can’t be too cold, or they think you’re lyin’ to them?’

Kharth’s throat tensed. ‘Or show too much emotion, too much anger, and all they see is the ragged little refugee girl. And they act like I was raised by wolves.’ Her voice came out quiet, awkward, voicing thoughts and apprehensions she normally didn’t give much space to. ‘I just… did it anyway. Let them think what they wanted. Fought hard and proved them wrong.’ She shifted again. ‘I won’t pretend that would work for you.’

‘Folks at least feel sorry for you.’ Logan didn’t sound resentful but was certainly clear on the differences between them. ‘I got a tightrope to walk. Let anger win, an’ I’m a danger. Control myself, an’ they think I’m… inhuman. So it’s smiles and laughs and bein’ as unthreatenin’ as possible, as human as possible, only it’s not…’

‘Hey.’ She could see him spiralling and, against her instincts, brought a hand to his arm. Contact levelled him, levelled them both. ‘We’re not done getting the people who did this. This was just stage one. When this mission is over? We’re going after the whole damn outfit.’

‘That’s just retribution.’ He looked up, gaze clouded. ‘This happened – they could find xBs, catch xBs, drag them off the streets and out of their homes, because of who they were. Because folks let them. Including Starfleet.’ Logan drew a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Tell me again how it’s all the same now since Frontier Day.’

Her gut twisted. ‘My homeworld was destroyed, and the galaxy sat on their hands and watched it happen and said, quietly and out loud, “they had it coming.” So yeah, I do know a little bit what it’s like.’ But her shoulders dropped. ‘It’s not the same. I’ve read the reports. XBs gunned down in the middle of the road and nobody doing anything.’

‘They won’t think I’m the same as all those kids from Frontier Day,’ Logan sighed. ‘They’ll look at me and go, “Thank God, my kids ain’t like him.” You look at, I don’t know, Beckett, and you don’t know, on sight, what he’s been through. Done.’ But he waved a hand, pulling away from her touch in the motion. ‘I hate self-pity. I didn’t come in here to belly-ache it at you.’

‘No, you came in to be on your own. And you hate being on your own.’ He looked up, visibly startled, and she gave a wry smile. ‘I’m not a people-person. It doesn’t mean I can’t read people. And I’m not trying to say we’re the same, we’re both as miserable and wretched, because you’re right – I wouldn’t swap places with you.’

His eyes were on her, clearing and growing warmer as she spoke. At length he mumbled, ‘What are you saying?’

She shifted her weight. ‘I don’t know what to tell you. It sucks. The galaxy’s a shit place that doesn’t give a shit. There is no cosmic justice, no greater balance. No power that rights wrongs. Crap things happen to good people, and we often can’t stop it.’

His lips twitched. ‘An’ you were telling me off for peddling hopelessness.’

‘Because that all means the only thing we can control is us, and the situation in front of us, and what we do. To hell with the rest. We can’t impact that.’ She drew an apprehensive breath. ‘I’m saying… you’re not alone.’

His gaze flickered. ‘I hear you. An’ I appreciate that. But when I was stood in that… slaughterhouse? I really was alone. ‘Cos it’s just one more time. One more reminder. No matter what I do, no matter who I am. I can’t get back what… what they took from me.’

‘No,’ Kharth allowed. ‘But we can stop it from happening to more people. What happened to you, and what happened to them.’ She nodded at the deck as if the lab was beneath them still. ‘And you’re not in that room right now.’

‘I’m not,’ he breathed, and all of a sudden, she was aware of how close they were, sat together in this tight bunkroom in the dim lighting. ‘I didn’t think you’d come. Thought you were avoiding me.’

You’re on my team, she almost said. But in the quiet closeness, it was too transparent a lie, even for her. Instead, she said quietly, ‘No. Not today,’ and let that be enough as they sat in the gloom together, alone and yet not, not fully, alone.

Captain’s log, stardate 2401.6. While Commander Kharth’s team proceeded to the Synnef Nebula, Endeavour has picked up another Borg homing beacon activating in our vicinity. What we found on arrival, however, was the debris of what appears to be a destroyed freighter. Commander Shepherd has led a team with Commander Cortez to investigate.

The captain’s chair felt not like a seat of power but a vice, pinning her in place and keeping her from where she wanted to be. As XO, she’d have been at the heart of the action, taking matters into her own hands. Now, she had to sit back and listen as the away team’s voices drifted over the bridge.

‘…reaching the signal now,’ came Shepherd’s voice. ‘It looks like a section of the cargo hold retained containment.’

‘Yeah.’ Cortez sounded thoughtful. ‘This damage distribution, the debris drift… their warp core detonated.’

Valance’s jaw tightened and she glanced at Airex, addressing the team but bringing him into the conversation as she asked, ‘Is there any indication why?’

‘Still no signs of weapons fire or damage,’ the Trill reported in a low voice. ‘There’s no indication of external damage at all.’

‘If we suit up and crack open this cargo hold,’ said Shepherd, ‘we can take a closer look.’

‘Negative,’ said Valance quickly. ‘We’re taking this carefully. Access the hold with a DOT. Any Borg technology is to be decoupled remotely.’ With the resources of the King Arthur, Cortez’s SCE team could perform a myriad of miracles without ever stepping foot on a deck.

‘This isn’t a Borg ship, Cap,’ Shepherd reminded her. ‘We don’t need that protocol.’

‘Until or unless we know why this freighter blew up, we’re sticking to it,’ Valance said tersely. Again she glanced to Airex. ‘Any more on the records?’

‘It looks like this was the freighter Arinox, registered as an independent ship at Freecloud. A crew of six. Records are about a year old.’ He shook his head. ‘And no life signs.’

‘From the nature of this damage,’ Cortez butted in, ‘I think the warp core overload was the only incident.’

‘A technical fault?’ said Valance.

‘Too soon to say,’ said Cortez, but she sounded tense. ‘We’re dispatching a DOT to access the cargo hold now.’ They waited. Valance resisted the urge to drum her fingers. Minutes later, Cortez’s voice came back. ‘Patching you into the DOT’s visual feed. We’re approaching the hatch.’

‘On screen,’ Valance commanded.

It looked like the DOT was doing nothing more than crawling over a metal room, floating in space, its internal bulkhead reinforcements and distance from the warp core seeming to have let it endure against the explosion.

‘We can carve through the hatch,’ Shepherd said. ‘But it’s quicker if we let the DOT connect to the door controls and use its own power source to open them up.’

Valance frowned. ‘Does that expose us to risk if a technical fault destroyed the freighter?’

‘It’s possible,’ Cortez started, but Shepherd pushed over her.

‘With Starfleet-issue defences? It’s no sweat, Cap. Accessing the controls now.’

On the screen, they watched an arm extend from the DOT to plug into the floating cargo bay’s hatch controls. At once, the screen beside the controls flared to light, and a data feed immediately began scrolling across it at break-neck speed.

‘Okay,’ came Shepherd’s voice. ‘Accessing -’

‘Isa, disconnect from the DOT now!’ Airex’s voice came like a whip-crack as his head snapped up from his controls.

‘What -’

But any protest from Shepherd was lost as the feed from the DOT went dead. For a moment, everyone paused. Then Cortez said, ‘You want to explain, Dav?’

‘Captain, pull the team out,’ Airex continued. ‘Get the King Arthur away from there.’

‘What’s going on? We can do this,’ protested Shepherd.

Valance shook her head. ‘You heard the man. Withdraw the runabout.’ On their display, the small dot of the King Arthur began to pull away from the debris field, and now she looked back at Airex. ‘Explain?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘But there was something in the start-up protocol the DOT activated that stood out. A line of code. Borg code.’

‘How did that get into the cargo bay’s mechanisms?’ Shepherd asked.

Cortez swore in Spanish. ‘Whatever’s inside that cargo bay’s got active nanites. It connected to the ship. Started to assimilate it.’

Airex nodded. ‘Captain, I think it wasn’t a technical fault that made this warp core overload. I think the crew did it.’

Valance turned, jaw dropping, to the viewscreen. ‘They brought debris aboard, and then it tried to assimilate them,’ she said, voice empty. ‘So they blew themselves up.’

‘An’ now,’ added Cortez, ‘it’s got a DOT.’

Valance shot to her feet. ‘Mister Qadir, lock onto the DOT. Once the King Arthur is a safe distance, open fire.’

Qadir, at Tactical, nodded, but said, ‘Captain, I can’t guarantee we won’t compromise or take out the cargo bay.’

‘That’s a price we may have to take. Fire when ready.’

In the end, there was nothing left of the DOT, the cargo hold, or whatever it had held that had unleashed such horrors onto the freighter Arinox. Despite their mission to recover Borg technology, Valance couldn’t feel too sorry about a technical failure that didn’t carry a body count, under the circumstances.

‘Captain.’ Airex looked up moments after confirming the toll. ‘The Excalibur has shown up on long-range sensors, heading for us.’

Valance nodded, relief easing her chest. ‘Maybe they have something to show for it. Back to the barn, everyone. Let’s take stock.’

It took a little time for Cortez and her team to examine the node brought back by Kharth’s team. But merely hours later, the senior staff sat in the conference room listening to the SCE leader.

‘…good news and bad news,’ Cortez said. Behind her, on the display, a vast array of notes and images of the devices and data accumulated by Endeavour’s team shone bright. ‘Good news is that we recovered a decent amount from the node Saeihr’s team brought back.’

Kharth rolled her eyes. ‘Bad news?’

‘You could enjoy the success for, like, five seconds,’ Cortez chided. ‘But, right. There’s a little more good news first – we think we’ve got a data string for the transwarp conduit’s expected exit vector.’

‘You think?’ checked Valance.

‘We do,’ Cortez amended. ‘The problem is that to figure out what it means, I need to compare it to Borg star charts. Because it means absolutely nothing to ours.’

‘So you mean we did all this,’ said Kharth, ‘only to pick up a bunch of numbers which don’t mean anything because we don’t have the right map for its coordinates?’

‘But wait!’ Cortez waggled a finger. ‘There’s more good news! Because I’m giving us the good news, bad news sandwich.’

Valance wondered if she could yell at her to skip to the end while still sounding professional. Once, she might have found this endearing on some level. Now it was professionally frustrating and only reminded her what she missed of Isa Cortez’s sense of humour. ‘Please enlighten us, Commander.’

‘Please,’ pressed Kharth, ‘speed this up, Isa.’

‘Sure.’ Cortez shrugged. ‘Redemption has found a docked probe in the Alpha Wreck. Its systems are de-powered. It has no Borg drones aboard. But its navigational computer appears functional. All we’ve got to do is hop aboard, punch in our data, and see where it points us.’

‘Can we send it to them?’ said Kharth.

‘We could,’ said Cortez. ‘But their CEO Commander Ó Taidhg is currently dealing with disconnecting a whole section of the wreck from power. We can be there in a few hours. And if something goes squirrelly, well, I know more than him.’

‘We should still,’ said Logan, ‘restrict personnel on this mission. Minimise danger.’

‘I’d like you there this time,’ said Cortez. ‘But this probe is sitting pretty right in front of the Redemption and soon us. It can’t come alive and kill us. But sure – me, Logan, and I’d like Thawn’s help.’

Valance nodded. ‘It’s your investigation.’ She turned towards Endeavour’s pilot. ‘Lieutenant Lindgren, set us a course for Lockney, high speed. Dismissed, everyone. Let’s see what’s at the end of this scavenger hunt.’

‘Hey.’ Beckett looked sheepish as he stepped into Thawn’s quarters. ‘I don’t want to delay you, I just wanted to catch you before you head out.’

She was still pulling on her away team jacket. Out the window, the vast stretch of the Alpha Wreck debris field hung, the distant bulk of the USS Redemption before it. They had raced at breakneck speed back to Lockney, and she’d spent most of this time continuing to help Cortez with their analysis.

‘We’ll have to catch up on your mission once I’m back,’ she said apologetically.

He shrugged. ‘You’ve seen the report. That’s most of what there is to know. Nothing ground-shaking. I just… wanted to see you first.’

It was irrational that she did anything other than hug him and say goodbye before heading down to the shuttlebay to join Cortez and Logan at the King Arthur. Instead, Thawn reached for a PADD on the table, and said, ‘There was something I wanted to ask you about. Do you know why Endeavour transmitted a major data package to the Ihhliae when we were damaged by the ion storm and they contacted us?’

He froze, and she knew. ‘That’s weird,’ said Beckett after a beat.

She kept looking at him. ‘It is,’ she said when he remained silent. ‘It is, in fact, a major security issue.’

‘Who’ve you told?’

‘I checked with Kally about comms records. There were none. I checked with Elsa on if I was reading our data processing right. She thinks I was.’ Thawn kept watching him. ‘That’s it.’

Beckett was silent another moment. Then he swallowed and stepped forward. ‘I’ll take that.’

Her grip on the PADD tightened. ‘Was it you?’

He stopped, pausing before he said, ‘I can’t answer that.’

‘It was,’ she said, her stomach dropping. ‘There are only two people aboard who could send a secure file transmission like that without it popping up on Kally’s records, and the other person’s the captain.’

‘I can’t,’ said Beckett, jaw tightening, ‘answer that, Lieutenant.’

His hand was still outstretched. She did not move. First, she had to ask, weakly, ‘Is that why the Ihhliae was disabled by a computer systems shutdown?’ Again he went tense. ‘Did you send a virus aboard to sabotage them?’

‘We can’t have this conversation. And you can’t read my feelings, my mind -’

‘You do get that I spent a year being so pissed off by you that I can actually read your body language the non-telepathic way, right, Nate?’ she snapped at last. ‘And are you crazy? You sabotaged a ship in contact with Borg technology? You could have killed them all!’

He scowled, fist clenching with frustration. ‘It was meant to activate before they got to the wreck!’

‘In the middle of the Mesea Storm? Where an ion wave would rip them apart if they were helpless?’

‘It also wasn’t meant to be that… successful. Anyway, I can’t talk about this!’

‘Can’t, or won’t?’

‘Both!’ But his chest was heaving, more emotion roiling in him than she’d expected. ‘But you don’t get to judge me! Because you don’t know the things I know. You know what I found, back in that lab?’ He pointed an accusing finger towards the door, as if that slaughterhouse lay in the corridor beyond. ‘Plenty of evidence to prove right Starfleet Intelligence’s suspicions that the Romulan Republic’s borders are made of paper when it comes to hanging onto dangerous tech. That wreck Valance let them have? It’ll be in the Orion Syndicate’s hands by the end of the week!’

Her throat tightened. ‘That still doesn’t give you the right to endanger a whole crew of people. What the hell, Nate? This isn’t like you.’

‘I had orders.’

She flinched as a horrid thought occurred. ‘From your father?’

‘No!’ But she was clearly close to home, and he looked away with, at last, a flash of guilt. ‘We have to contain threats like the Borg. And if Captain Valance won’t, then Starfleet Intelligence will. I don’t like what I did; of course I don’t. But it’s better for one ship to be destroyed than Borg technology to fall into the wrong hands or, worse, for somewhere major to suffer the same fate as those poor bastards on their freighter – only to not blow themselves up in time, and then we have a Borg ship somewhere really dangerous.’

She worked her jaw in silence. ‘I’m not pretending I know the right thing to do with any of that. I really don’t. But I think you underestimate how close you just came to murdering a whole ship of people, Nate.’

‘I think you underestimate how close we come, so many days, to crises like Frontier Day repeating themselves.’

She wanted to reach out. Reach out with her senses, find the contours of his thoughts and feelings. Not to intrude, but because she knew it was more complicated than his words and his body language made out. More complicated than he probably knew. Instead, all she had was his blunt defensiveness and his hurt, and the frustration of her own blindness mingled with the indignation at his attacks.

So instead of taking a moment to connect with him, mentally or with words, instead, she snapped, ‘I can’t believe you’re doing things your father would want you to do, even when you know better, and even when it would get people killed. And I can’t believe you’re defending yourself.’

‘I told you,’ he said stubbornly. ‘There are things I can’t talk about.’

‘Right.’ She zipped up her jacket. ‘Then this conversation is over, isn’t it? I’ve got to get to the Lancelot.’

She saw him hesitate. They’d been apart for days, both of them up to their necks in high-stress scenarios, and her about to head off for another one. He’d not come here to fight, but to reach out to her. For a split second, she thought he was going to shove the argument aside and do just that.

But he didn’t. He nodded. And she left. And did her utmost to put the argument out of her mind – put the fact he’d proven right her worst suspicions out of her mind – because, once again, she had to venture into the jaws of danger, and do her job.

Feelings could come later.

‘You said the Redemption team cleared this out.’ Thawn’s voice sounded tinny inside her own EV suit. ‘Right?’

There was a thunk as Cortez stepped over the threshold of the airlock and set her booted foot on the deck of the Borg probe. Beside her, Logan advanced and raised his left arm, the flashlight attached to his suit sweeping down the corridor beyond.

It was not like the wreck they had first boarded. Lights shone back, white and yellow instead of dim and green, the Redemption’s team leaving the probe fit for officers to return and investigate. Floor lights had been left, stretching down the short corridor to the far, sealed door, and while they reflected off obsidian bulkheads bearing the gleam of emerald circuitry, the presence of the Borg felt dormant here. Conquered. There were no drones in sight, no Borg systems. If this was a wilderness once, for now, it had been tamed.

That did not mean they were complacent. After a beat, Cortez nodded and took another step. ‘They said it was clear. It’s clear.’ She checked the tricorder on the forearm of her suit. ‘Atmo’s good.’

‘Popping the hood,’ called Logan. A beat later, there was a hiss as they cracked their helmets and breathed the stale air.

Cortez cleared her throat. ‘That great recycled flavour,’ she sighed. ‘Come on.’ They had docked their shuttle at an airlock nearest the central control room of the probe and now walked the short corridor to the far door, shuffling in their EV suits.

‘What did the Redemption do with the drones?’ Thawn said, hearing her voice echoing in the corridor and not enjoying it.

‘There were none on the probe,’ said Logan. ‘They get dispatched if and when it launches. It’s like an Aquarius on an Odyssey.’

Thawn nodded, then said, against her better judgement, ‘What are we doing with the rest of the drones?’

‘Much as we did for the Artifact,’ sighed Logan. ‘Keeping them in suspension until we have a better idea. None of them what were active when the Cube collapsed have shown signs of losing their connection to the Collective.’

‘It’s being worked on,’ said Cortez. ‘The Redemption is still trying to locate the central vinculum. If it’s even on the Alpha Wreck.’ They approached the hatch to the central control room. Cortez used a hand-crank to get it open.

‘Aren’t we going to need to power the probe up to access its navigational records anyway?’ Thawn said in a small voice as they entered the control room. She was relieved to see more of the floor lamps from the Redemption team in there, casting the chamber in a dim, golden glow. They had gone nowhere that others had not gone.

‘We are, but I want to have computer access right in front of me when we do that,’ said Cortez. ‘So I can keep track of exactly what the damn ship is doing if it wants to misbehave.’ She nodded to the panel on the far bulkhead, several metres wide and with multiple interfaces. ‘Gonna need your help with this one, Logan.’

‘It should be straightforward,’ he said.

‘Yeah, but you can read it better than me,’ she pointed out. ‘Thawn, get to that panel there and keep track of the ship systems. We’ll find the navicom and input our coords. Make sure it doesn’t activate anything else when we bring in the power.’

‘It should be cut off,’ said Thawn. ‘The Redemption team insisted they’d isolated the navicom from the rest of the probe.’

‘Sure,’ said Logan, reaching up to access the main panel. ‘But you know what the Borg do.’

Thawn paused, staring at the screen she was supposed to monitor. It was still blank. ‘…assimilate?’

‘Regenerate,’ he sighed.

‘Come on, Lieutenant,’ chided Cortez. ‘That were an obvious bit. Powering up now.’

Thawn bit her lip and stayed silent as they worked. Her screen came to gentle life, the feed scrolling to confirm that power had been restored to the navicom and to nothing else. ‘The system looks isolated.’

‘Good,’ said Cortez. ‘Let’s find what we need and get out.’

It was only a slow process because they were careful. Ploughing through the probe’s database to find exactly what they need, and isolating anything they didn’t, took rigorous scrutiny, especially with Logan’s clear caution – or paranoia. It took them an hour before Cortez eventually fist-pumped, awkward in the EV suit, and said, ‘Gotcha!’

Logan let out a slow breath of relief. ‘Borg navigational data.’

‘Let’s put this bad boy in and get a star chart. How’re we looking, Thawn?’

Thawn blinked. She hadn’t stopped paying attention, so much as there was little to nothing to pay attention to. ‘All clear. No real change.’

‘Great.’ Cortez tapped her armpiece for the holographic projection of the data she needed to pop up. ‘Inputting the coordinates now.’

Logan nodded, tapping at the panel. ‘It’s processing.’

Thawn resisted the urge to look back as she watched her screen, where the data kept scrolling without change, the feed of the status of the probe steady. A few moments later, behind her, she heard Cortez let out a low whistle. ‘That’s a way off.’

On Thawn’s screen, the data changed by one number. Her breath caught. ‘Commander!’

A split second later, everything changed.

‘…Captain?’

There was a dullness to Airex’s voice, a quiet, confused surprise, that somehow made Valance’s gut roil worse than if he’d snapped something. She looked across the bridge at him. ‘What?’

‘The probe is powering up.’ Now urgency entered his voice, and his hands sprang across his console, drawing in data. ‘Flight systems are active -’

‘Captain, the probe’s moving,’ barked Lindgren, likewise springing into action. ‘It’s pulling away from the wreckage.’

Valance jumped to her feet. ‘Bring us in. Kally, can you contact the away team?’

A beat, then the comms panel blatted at the young ensign. ‘Negative, Captain! There’s a communications dampening field, like on the first wreck.’

Lindgren swore. ‘It’s fast, Captain, and it’s moving to the far end of the debris field. We can’t match its speed and navigate the field.’

‘Hail the Redemption, Kally,’ Valance snapped. ‘See if Captain Daragon can move in or if he has a runabout out there.’

‘There’s nobody closer than us,’ warned Kharth, who’d jumped up to stand at Qadir’s shoulder at Tactical.

‘Bring us around the debris field, Lindgren. Full impulse, tight as you can – give the wreck a shave if you have to!’

Airex looked back up. ‘They’re out of the debris field, and I’m detecting elevated neutrino levels in the space before the probe.’

‘They’re going to transwarp,’ Valance said, fist clenching.

‘Conduit opening!’ Airex confirmed a moment later. ‘They’re going in!’

‘Lindgren, follow them.’ They were at the edge of the debris field now, and on the viewscreen, with the remains of the Alpha Wreck no longer blocking their sight, she could see it – the low shape of the small probe, and the roiling vortex before it of a transwarp conduit. ‘Qadir, get ready to grab them with a tractor beam -’

‘Too late,’ said Airex. ‘They’re in.’

‘Then we follow –’

‘Conduit is closing,’ said Airex, and a heartbeat later, anything on the viewscreen that was not inky black space or the gleam of distant stars vanished.

Valance stared for a moment. Then a moment more. When she drew a sharp breath and spoke, her voice didn’t sound like it came from her, colder and more tense than she thought she’d ever heard it. ‘Status, Mister Airex.’

In the silence that followed, the only sound was Airex’s fingertips on the controls as he checked, double-checked, triple-checked his readings. Then he looked up again. ‘They’re gone, Captain.’

‘So far as we can tell,’ said Airex, eyes bright as he stood before the conference table, the projector behind him stretching out with his records – the Alpha Wreck, regional maps, everything they’d recovered from the Borg devices so far, ‘inputting the coordinates into the probe’s navigational systems reactivated it.’

Valance turned to Captain Daragon, seated across from her at the table, and tried to not clench her fists. ‘You assured me and Commander Cortez, Captain, that the probe’s systems had been disconnected. That the navigational computer had been separated from all other ship systems.’ Her voice still came in that low, cold rumble.

‘It was.’ Daragon leaned forward, speaking in the low voice of someone trying to be mindful without taking too much flack. ‘I’m not sure what happened. My Chief Engineer’s reports are with your Chief Science Officer. Nobody needs to have made a mistake for a disaster to happen with the Borg.’

‘You’ve been here for weeks; your people should know better -’

Airex cleared his throat. ‘I have some theories,’ he ventured, and Valance barely eased back onto her chair. ‘It is possible that reactivating the navicom meant dormant nanites were also reactivated, and repaired the physical connections to the probe’s systems. But we did have a bridging connection with our systems.’

‘Only via our tricorders and their power systems,’ said Perrek, brow furrowing. ‘There’s no way the Borg probe could use a power conduit to send a command. And our tricorders have… aw, hell.’ He leaned back, waving a hand. ‘I was going to say something about our security systems.’

Kharth was drumming her fingers on the table. ‘You’re saying that the Borg programmes jumped into, say, Cortez’s tricorder from her interfacing with the navicom, then across to Thawn’s tricorder with our network, then into the rest of the systems she was monitoring from there?’ Her voice came out like it had been dragged backwards through gravel.

Airex gave an expansive shrug. ‘These are theories.’

‘Do they matter?’ Eyes turned down the table to where Beckett sat. Lindgren was by his side, but she didn’t look like she wanted to be too close, either. The young intelligence officer sat up, gaze cold. ‘However it happened. They disappeared through transwarp. How do we get them back?’

‘We don’t know where they even are,’ said Kharth.

‘I’m working on it,’ said Airex with a sigh. ‘I’m liaising with the crew of the USS Ranger.’

‘Why?’

His expression flickered. ‘Because they have invested weeks of study into the transwarp conduit. I’m presuming that the probe proceeded to the Cube’s original destination – to complete its mission. Now we know more about that from our findings from the nodes and from our telemetry on this new transwarp conduit, we may be able to narrow it down.’

‘May,’ Kharth added.

Valance glanced between them. ‘Commander Airex, how far away might this destination be?’

He made a face. ‘I wouldn’t like to venture -’

‘Venture.’

He sighed. ‘Somewhere in this wider sector. Likely at or beyond the bounds of the Midgard region we know. It could be further.’

‘You mean,’ said Valance, ‘even if you find a location, it is likely weeks away.’

‘For us. Hours away at transwarp.’

‘So even if we get there,’ rumbled Kharth, ‘it’ll be too late.’

Silence settled on the conference room. Then Valance nodded. ‘Then let’s get to it,’ she said at last. ‘Find me their destination. Dismissed, everyone.’

Daragon lingered as the officers filed out, even though she stood, her body language seeping her desire to focus on the mission and work. Only once they were alone did the Redemption’s master straighten, clear his throat, and say, ‘I’m terribly sorry for your losses, Captain -’

‘I haven’t lost anyone yet,’ said Valance, not meeting his eye as she gathered PADDs.

‘I understand your need to see this through; I’d do the same myself.’ He clearly thought he was being comforting. Perhaps with someone else, the warmth in his voice would help. ‘But we must be realistic. Commodore Rourke may not grant permission to send Endeavour on a months-long trip to find officers likely dead.’

‘Commodore Rourke hasn’t said anything yet.’ Valance straightened up, now unable to keep the snap from her voice. ‘And you don’t speak for him, Captain. My objective is to uncover the Cube’s mission. That is still the priority.’ She heard the tension, the anger, and coiled it tighter in disgust at herself, forcing out a slow breath. ‘I appreciate your concern. But we’re not done yet, Captain.’

Daragon watched her for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘I will reroute all available support to this. Commander Airex gets all of the Redemption’s help he needs. Good hunting, Captain.’

As he left, she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathed out an oath when she was alone for merely moments before the doors slid open. ‘What?’

It was Shepherd, hands behind her back. She didn’t look too surprised at the snap. ‘Just so you know, Captain, Sae’s out there looking like she’s going to bite off the head of anyone who doesn’t give a hundred-and-ten percent…’

‘Has she actually bitten their heads off yet?’

‘No, but -’

‘Are they giving less than a hundred-and-ten percent?’

‘No…’

‘Then I don’t see the problem, Commander.’

There was a pause where Shepherd visibly gathered her words. ‘As the ranking officer who doesn’t have skin in the game,’ she said after a beat, carefully, ‘I wanted to check in.’

‘Our friends and colleagues are missing. Everyone’s got skin in the game.’

Shepherd made a face. ‘Your ex? Sae’s… I don’t know. Beckett’s girlfriend?’

‘This ship does not live and die on the professionalism of Nathaniel Beckett -’

‘It does live and die on the professionalism of you and Sae.’

Valance looked at her at last, expressionless. ‘Have I done anything unprofessional yet, Shepherd?’

‘No, but -’

‘This is not the first time this ship has needed to rescue comrades. This is not the first time I have needed to rescue Isa Cortez. I commanded Pathfinder to gather Cardassian allies, lead a battlegroup into Izar, and sweep across a battlefield to rescue the Triumph, and I did so all without losing my cool. You have lived and died, Commander Shepherd, on my professionalism in the face of personal tension already.’

Shepherd was silent a beat. Then she said, ‘And Sae?’

Valance paused. ‘I’ll talk to Kharth.’

Shepherd made a face for a moment. Then nodded. ‘Should I send her in?’

‘Do it. Thank you, Shepherd. That’ll be all.’

Valance tried to not pace in the mere moments between Shepherd leaving and Kharth coming in. The Romulan’s face was indeed like thunder, and indignation rolled off her the moment the doors slid shut behind her.

‘If Athaka cries, it’s not my fault -’

‘There’s a reason I want you as my XO and not Shepherd.’ Valance folded her hands behind her back and turned to her, expression flat. ‘Control.’

That did impact Kharth’s feelings, because her scowl changed for a look of confusion. ‘You think you can control me?’ To her credit, she sounded baffled rather than angry.

‘Shepherd wings things. She’s raw talent and optimism. Roll the dice and pull a rabbit out of the hat and swing home for cigars when it’s all over.’ Valance knew those types. She’d loved those types. She’d been those types. ‘And she gets away with it because she does it with a smile on her face and makes people love her.’

‘You sound,’ said Kharth after a beat, ‘like you don’t love her.’

‘Commander Shepherd is on Endeavour to keep her in the field, particularly with a new squadron-level responsibility. Rourke wants to get her her own ship, and he wants her as his eyes and ears in the sector. This is not a long-term assignment. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a credit to this ship and a critical officer to have about. But she’s not here to take your job.’

Kharth shifted her feet. ‘The last thing on my mind is my job security.’

‘Because of Isa. Because of Logan.’ A beat. Kharth nodded. Valance straightened. ‘You and I are both creatures of control, Commander. People don’t see it because you come across as angry and emotional, and your idea of control isn’t always the same as Starfleet policy’s. What they don’t realise is that you don’t let your feelings blind you. You let them fuel you. Then you assess situations down to the last variable, and just because you bully the long odds on willpower sometimes doesn’t mean that you haven’t perfectly assessed the risks.’

There was another pause. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying,’ said Kharth at last.

Valance let out a slow breath. ‘You’re my XO because when you roll the dice, I trust you to have rigged the game in your favour as much as possible. Because, for however different we are, however irreverent and dangerous you can be, I trust your judgement when it comes to risk. I trust your pragmatism when it comes to doing the impossible. And I trust your control of a situation. Even in circumstances we can’t control.’ She nodded at the door. ‘That’s all. You may carry on.’

Kharth didn’t move for a moment. Then the tightest of smiles tugged at her lips before it vanished, ghost-like. ‘We’re getting them back.’

Valance nodded sharply. ‘We’re getting them back.’

‘Establishing connection.’

Beckett realised he’d been driving the sharp metal rim of the PADD into the palm of his hand and pulled it away. As he’d stood in the gloom of the SOC and waited, he’d gripped on so tight he’d drawn blood. He wiped it on the sleeve of his uniform and straightened, looking at the communications screen as the connection was made and the figure appeared before him.

‘Lieutenant Beckett.’

‘Captain Faust.’

‘I heard what happened. A tragedy.’

‘It’s not over.’ He tilted his chin up. ‘I need your help.’

The image of Addison Faust frowned. ‘I would be pleased to help. I don’t know how I can.’

‘Starfleet Intelligence’s records on Borg transwarp. I know they exist.’

‘Those records lie high above your clearance.’

‘And there are lives on the line, Captain. With those, we might have a chance.’

‘If you know about them, you know what they’re about. That has to remain restricted, Lieutenant. I’m sorry.’

You’re not, Beckett thought. But that was an empty consideration, devoid of feeling. He didn’t have space inside for that sort of distraction. All there was, was the objective.

Find her.

‘I know how this world works,’ he said as he straightened. ‘Quid pro quo. I want that information. What is it going to cost me, Captain?’

‘What’s our status?’

Airex wanted to scream. The question was little more than ‘are we there yet’ for grown-ups, a demand from his superior officers for an update. As if he wouldn’t have come running if he didn’t already know something. But he did not scream, because it would be inappropriate to yell at the ship’s XO just for intercepting him on his way to astrometrics, and because that XO was Saeihr Kharth.

He let out a slow breath, stepped to one side of the corridor so they could talk, and stopped. ‘Ongoing. I’ve been pulling past records on transwarp from the archives. Information is limited. But I expect to hear back from the Ranger team soon.’

Kharth stood stock-still in a way he knew was stopping her from fidgeting. ‘Don’t we have decades of research on Borg transwarp? Over a century on our own efforts?’

‘The two are different, and the former is still heavily classified.’

‘And if you trace it, we’re still months -’

‘I’m working on it.’ He tried to keep his voice gentle. ‘Commander, can you trust that I would say if I thought this was a wild goose chase with no hope?’ As she hesitated, he forced a tight smile. ‘Can you trust that I would be negative and miserable if the situation called for it?’

That made her shoulders relax an iota. ‘I’m sorry for delaying you, Commander -’

‘Saeihr.’ He caught her eye. ‘We’re going to find our team. We’re going to find… him.’

It was a bit of a gamble of a comment. All he had was the crumbs he’d put together, and soul-sucking jealousy and loss meant it had been impossible to miss even the slightest flicker of chemistry or comment between Saeihr Kharth and Jack Logan these past months. How he felt about that was his problem, and Airex was working on putting those emotions to bed. He’d betrayed and hurt her. Then he’d lost her. That didn’t mean it was easy to watch her move on.

Her flinch told him he wasn’t far off the mark. ‘I know,’ she said, jaw snapping shut. Then she added, defensively, ‘There isn’t… there’s nothing between Commander Logan and I.’

His chest eased even though he didn’t believe it. And because he didn’t believe it, he still gave a sad smile. ‘Then I better find him,’ said Airex, ‘so you can figure out if you want there to be.’ He left before she could respond, because he had no promises to make and had said as much on the topic as he could bear.

He could not make amends for how he’d treated her in the past. He could not heal wounds he’d slashed open himself. He could not earn her forgiveness. But perhaps, perhaps, he could do this for her.

There were people in the astrometrics lab waiting for him, and in his surprise, all Airex could say at the assembled trio was a stammering, ‘Excuse me!’

Lindgren wasn’t a surprise, so it was to her his eyes fell as they turned. She gestured apologetically to the other two. ‘The crew of the Redemption have offered their assistance.’

Airex turned to the pair with a wary eye. ‘Commander Ranicus. Lieutenant Sterlah.’ He had not met either since their transfer to the Redemption. When they’d last met, they’d been crewmembers of the USS Triumph, loyalists to Fleet Captain Jericho, part of the jockeying for power and loyalty that had nearly ripped the squadron apart. Neither of them had showed a shred of doubt about their faith in their captain. ‘I wasn’t aware that transwarp was an area of expertise for either of you.’

Tiarith Ranicus, former XO of the Triumph now in the science blues of her station on Redemption, met his coolness evenly. ‘I’m an astrophysicist and we’ve been studying the Alpha Wreck for weeks now, Commander. And nobody is better at tracking someone down than Lieutenant Sterlah.’

The burly Andorian folded his arms across his chest. ‘More importantly,’ he grunted, ‘Cortez was one of ours. Everyone on the Triumph would be dead if it weren’t for what she did at Izar.’

‘That desire to help is perhaps not more important than a capacity to help,’ Ranicus allowed dryly. ‘But simply put, Commander, the resources we have at our disposal are yours.’

Airex glanced at Lindgren, who gave a small shrug. ‘Navigational calculations of this magnitude are a little ahead of the curve for me,’ she allowed.

‘You’ve been doing exceptionally well filling in the gaps and rusty points of your pilot training,’ said Airex firmly.

‘Good enough to fly Endeavour. Not good enough to calculate the end-point of a Borg transwarp conduit. So I brought reinforcements.’

Airex glanced back at the two from Redemption. ‘You worked with Captain Daragon before.’

‘Before the Triumph?’ said Ranicus. ‘Yes. Captain Jericho headhunted us from his command. Then he gave us another chance when nobody wanted us on their ships after Izar.’

Sterlah gave another grunt. ‘We going to keep clapping ourselves on the back about how forgiving we are, or are we gonna save this frozen day?’

Airex’s smile was tight but sincere. ‘Day-saving, please. We need to find where that probe went.’

‘If the probe went the same place as the Cube was originally heading,’ said Lindgren anxiously, ‘then we’ve not been able to figure that out yet, not without the nav records that were on the probe. What’s our plan?’

‘We weren’t able to figure out its heading because the transwarp conduit collapsed before it got there,’ said Airex, advancing on the central display in astrometrics. ‘Wherever this probe is, the transwarp conduit got it there. We’re not trying to extrapolate a possible end-point. We’re tracking them.’

‘I have with me,’ said Ranicus, moving to join him, ‘everything we were able to extract from the Alpha Wreck’s navigational records. None of it was definitive, and I’d forwarded most of it to Commander Cortez. But we have a fresh context now.’

‘I’ve drawn the sensor telemetry about the probe’s transwarp conduit from every ship and shuttle in the system,’ added Sterlah. ‘It gives us some options for triangulation.’

‘But even if we track them down,’ said Lindgren, ‘we still have to get -’

‘I know.’ Airex cut her off. ‘One step at a time, Lieutenant. I know what I’m doing. And to trace this transwarp conduit’s end point, we need to talk to the people who’ve spent more time than anyone studying the current state of Midgard subspace. Computer!’ He turned to the comms panel beside the main astrophysics display, and thumbed on the holographic projector. ‘Patch me through to Ensign Vhalis, USS Ranger.’

‘…narrowed it down to a region of approximately ten light-years.’ It had sounded impressive for a day’s work in his head. Now Airex stood in the captain’s ready room and remembered just how unfathomly vast this ‘narrowing’ was when their destination did not have to be a star or a phenomenon. The probe could have stopped in deep space, and he was nowhere near finding it.

Valance was staring out the window, the drifting remains of the Alpha Wreck distant specks against the star of Lockney. ‘If we could get there,’ she said after a beat, ‘then our sensors would do the rest. But that’s weeks away.’ She went to stand. ‘I’ll give Lindgren the order -’

‘No.’

The captain’s eyes at last snapped onto him, tense and cold. ‘No? What’re we waiting -’

‘If we depart at maximum warp now it will, as you say, take days, weeks. I have a different idea.’ Airex hesitated. He hadn’t wanted to offer specifics in case he ended up pedalling in false hope. But now this plan either had to factor into the ship’s operations or be abandoned, so, awkwardly, he explained.

Valance’s expression was flat as she listened. ‘This all sounds very theoretical,’ she said at the end.

Airex stood his ground. ‘The theory is sound.’

‘And the practice? Can we do this, Dav?’

‘There is information I’m missing. A lot of the Voyager records have been classified. My efforts at reaching out to Admiral Beckett’s office to be provided with them have been… unsuccessful, so far.’ That hurt. He’d been in the Director of Fourth Fleet Intelligence’s office for months, one of his senior scientific advisers. Now he needed something from the miserable old man, all bonds had been forgotten. ‘I’m going through different channels.’

‘Which takes time,’ said Valance. ‘And even if you get that information, it might take days…’

‘I still believe,’ Airex said doggedly, ‘this is better than hoping and praying maximum warp and the better part of a fortnight is enough. If we could even keep up that speed for that long. Perrek isn’t convinced it’s sustainable.’

‘So, in the meantime, I sit here and do nothing while you toss around a theory?’ At last, Valance stood. She did not shoot to her feet and she did not raise her voice, but the ice in her tones seemed to set harder.

But Airex met her gaze and said, simply, ‘Yes.’ As that stopped her in her tracks, he straightened. ‘You are right to push us. And to push me. But you are also right to trust me. Isa will not be more saved if it’s by your direct hand.’

‘I’m not -’

‘I know you two argued. I know you two didn’t part ways under the best of circumstances when she left this ship months ago. And I know that, for all of your patience, Karana, you do very poorly being helpless. I expect you’re thinking and rethinking everything you said, and everything you would say if you had the chance.’ He shook his head. ‘None of that is relevant to the mission.’

Her jaw worked quietly. ‘I didn’t say it was.’ But after a moment, Valance sank back down onto her chair and her gaze returned to the window. ‘We argued after that staff dinner. I tried to talk to her, only… whatever she wanted from me, I didn’t say it. She told me she’s not responsible for helping me with my feelings any more.’ She fidgeted with her sleeve. ‘It made me feel like I was back to square one, Dav. Back to who I was when I met her. Still as cold and… useless.’

This was irrelevant, and yet it eased his chest to hear her say that. The emotional stakes, rather than a distraction, felt like they were honing his focus. ‘If you had regressed to who you were two and a half years ago, Karana, you wouldn’t be saying this to me.’ At her startled look, he shrugged. ‘I’ve no doubt that you hurt her. You put your career before her, after all – which is what you’re struggling with now, you’re wondering if you can save her if you just… act unprofessionally. Get her back and prove yourself all at once. Only, it’s not that simple.’

Valance flinched. ‘I didn’t think about it like that.’

‘You get her back by being professional. By being the captain to guide us through the steps. By holding your nerve and trusting me. Trust me, Karana.’ He paused. ‘And when you see her again, when you talk to her about all of this, remember one thing.’

‘Just one?’ she said dryly.

‘Remember it’s entirely possible that you’re not the only one who fucked things up. It takes two to tango.’ In the stunned silence, he stepped away. ‘I’ll get back to it. Captain.’

He took her detached nod as a dismissal, and headed out the door. No, Airex thought quietly. None of this was how it was two and a half years ago. The idea that the fate of everyone rested on his shoulders, on the shoulders of his intellect, was hardly unusual. The idea that he had to shepherd everyone’s sanity to the other side along the way was new.

Once upon a time, they wouldn’t have dared speak like this. Once upon a time, they wouldn’t have dared feel like this. Once upon a time, he would have ignored them and done the job.

But his heart still sank when he got back to the astrometrics lab to find the rest of the team gone, and one new arrival. He had guided others through their feelings and guilt, and done so because he felt he owed them that. Nate Beckett, to whom he felt he owed basically nothing, was starting to feel like a step too far.

‘Lieutenant.’ Airex sighed as he advanced on the display. ‘I assure you, if I know anything, I will say…’

‘I’m not here for an update.’ The young man’s eyes and voice were cold, and Airex looked up, startled at the demeanour. He did not look like he’d slept more. ‘Elsa told me you have a plan. I’m here to help.’

‘Unless you’re an expert in transwarp mechanics…’

‘I’m not.’ Beckett pulled out a PADD and extended it to him. ‘But will this help?’

The display read CLASSIFIED in angry, bold lettering. Airex knew that well, had processed countless documents of its kind while at Fourth Fleet Intelligence. He knew what the consequences were for handling such material. And still he found himself reaching out for the PADD without a second thought.

He unlocked the PADD and read the headings of the files it contained. His eyes widened. ‘Where did you get this? How many strings did you have to pull, what…’ Airex paused. He knew how Starfleet Intelligence worked. He looked up. ‘What deals did you make? What do you owe people for getting your hands on this, Beckett?’ Nothing like this came for free. And in Intelligence, the finest currency was souls.

‘Never mind that,’ Beckett said roughly. ‘Will it help?’

Airex’s breath caught, but he nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘It’s exactly what I need.’

Souls, after all, could be dealt with after lives.

‘We’ve stopped.’ Cortez’s voice was tinny in the gloom, but sounded louder when she reactivated her suit’s torch, and light spilt across the Borg probe’s control room. ‘Dropped out of transwarp, at least.’

Thawn stepped out of the corner she’d been crouched in and advanced on the central panel. Gingerly, she reached for the controls. Hope surged as they sprang to life, bathing the chamber in the Collective’s hues of sickly green, but it was short-lived. She swore. ‘We’re still locked out.’

‘When it processed them coordinates, it triggered a directive.’ Logan’s voice echoed from nearer the door of the chamber. ‘Sounds like that ain’t yet complete.’

They’d lost control of the probe seemingly the moment its navigational systems had realised what it had been fed. None of Thawn or Cortez’s cleverness, or Logan’s experience, could get them access to the systems after that. The Borg technology had bull-rushed through all of their precautions, and before they could come up with any way of circumventing these defences, the probe had jumped to transwarp. It was as if they weren’t there for how little the probe cared for them, and Cortez had soon enough suggested they kill unnecessary lights to preserve power. If it weren’t for their equipment, they’d never have known how long they’d waited. Thawn’s tricorder said eight hours. Her sense of time said either eight minutes or eight centuries.

‘We’re still moving,’ Cortez said after a moment, head cocked as she listened to, felt the ship around her. ‘Impulse. Manoeuvring a bit. We must be headed to something.’

‘More bad news,’ said Thawn, checking the tricorder on the forearm of her suit. ‘We lost the Lancelot somewhere along the way.’

‘Taking a docked shuttle into a transwarp conduit was never gonna end well,’ sighed Cortez.

Logan looked to Thawn. ‘Any chance of accessing even comms?’

‘Maybe,’ mused Cortez, ‘we can manually connect our tricorder to their transmitter and use that to -’

The rest of the words were lost to Thawn as something unseen hit her. It felt like a two-fold blow to the gut and skull and was enough to physically bend her double, force her to grab the console to not fall over. Head swimming, ears ringing, it took moments before she realised Logan had taken hold of her and was pulling her upright.

‘Thawn. You still with us?’ Despite the circumstances, despite the personal hell he had to be going through on top of their nightmare, his eyes were still kind, worried.

‘They’re out there,’ she breathed, throat hoarse. ‘We’re getting closer.’

His brow knotted. ‘More Borg?’

‘Yes.’ But uncertainty shone through. ‘There’s just… something wrong.’

‘They won’t feel like the minds you’re used to…’

‘No, I felt that at Lockney.’ She pressed a gloved hand to her temple. ‘I don’t know how to explain it. Pain.’

Cortez watched as Logan’s head snapped around. ‘You look like you got an idea, Jack.’

‘I got a lot of ideas. None of ‘em good.’ He looked back at Thawn. ‘What can we do?’

‘I can manage it.’ Thawn slowed her breathing. ‘I can block them out. It just takes concentration. I didn’t expect this.’

‘There’s nothing here that’s in expectations,’ said Cortez, jaw tight. The deck rumbled beneath them, and they all had to grab hold of something to stay upright. The engineer swore. ‘That felt like we’re docking.’

‘There’s a Borg structure out here,’ said Logan, ‘and the probe’s found it. This must be what the Cube was looking for.’

‘What I’d give,’ sighed Cortez, ‘for a window.’

Beside Thawn, the control panel flooded back to life. She turned, squinting and checking her tricorder as data scrolled across the screen. ‘The probe’s trying to establish a network connection.’ She frowned. ‘It looks like it’s trying different engagement protocols?’

‘So much for a Collective,’ said Cortez.

Logan leaned over Thawn’s shoulder, his lips moving silently for a moment. ‘Even the Collective changes and develops and advances its software and security. That’s the point of going out there and assimilating everyone. This looks like it’s rolling back to try… older and older protocols?’

‘I still can’t do anything but watch,’ said Thawn, pressing buttons to no avail. ‘Do we check the airlocks?’

‘You mean, board whatever we’ve just docked with?’ Cortez’s shoulders slumped. ‘Might as well stick bad ideas on top of bad ideas.’

‘We might be able to find some system we can access and put out a distress signal,’ Thawn pressed.

Logan shook his head. ‘We’ve travelled for eight hours via transwarp. Help is days away. Even if the drones aboard whatever this is don’t care about us, we don’t have days’ worth of supplies.’

She turned to him, frowning. ‘Even the Borg must need sustenance. I don’t care if we have to find their nutrient paste dispenser and jury-rig it; so long as the drones here don’t move against us, we’ve got a chance.’ Had she not been pushing back against her senses, she suspected she would have felt the helplessness roiling off him. However much he had tried to help her, support her, the look in his eye said it all. Logan didn’t think they had a chance.

Cortez cleared her throat. ‘Well, I’m not sitting here twiddling my thumbs until the drones come for us or we die of starvation. I say we make more bad ideas… and I’m in charge. Airlock it is.’

They had to troop deeper into the probe to find one that had connected to whatever they were docked with. But within minutes, Cortez was tapping the tricorder on her suit’s forearm and nodding. ‘Seal’s good. We can enter here.’

‘Do we need helmets?’ Thawn said cautiously.

‘Drones can survive a vacuum,’ said Logan, ‘but it’s standard for a ship to keep a breathable atmo. Of course, something’s damned wrong here…’

‘Calm down, both of you,’ hissed Cortez. ‘Of course I checked.’

‘What,’ wondered Thawn aloud, ‘is there to calm down about?’

This question was not made easier by Cortez managing to wrangle the airlock doors open, and beyond spilt the vast interior of a Borg ship. Thawn had seen pictures, spent weeks scouring the Federation’s records. But even though she knew better, on some level she’d expected a warren of tight, dark tunnels infested with drones, all like the wreck they’d nearly died on at Lockney.

Instead, it was a cavernous hall, an amphitheatre, a cathedral. Deep into the humid mists of the warm interior stretched a vast chamber, the bulkheads lined by decks where she could see rows upon rows of alcoves for drones. Many were empty. Some were not. Across the chamber criss-crossed gantries and walkways, interconnecting before they led to an elevated metal diamond in the centre.

‘What’s that?’ Thawn breathed, knowing there were so many possible answers to the question.

‘This,’ said Cortez, ‘isn’t like any Cube or Sphere’s configuration I ever saw.’

Beside them, Logan took a faltering step back. ‘No,’ he gasped. ‘Oh, hell, no.’

Cortez turned. ‘What?’

He might have stepped back again, but Cortez grabbed his arm. Eyes wide, Logan looked at her and shook his head. ‘This is a Diamond.’

‘Oh,’ said Cortez in a dull tone, just as Thawn said, ‘What?’

‘Command and control centres,’ Logan said, voice empty. ‘It should be at the hub of a massive Borg operation, it should house…’ He faltered. ‘Countless drones.’

Thawn took a ginger step onto the gantry, her eyes sweeping across the chamber, across the alcoves. Cautiously, she expanded her telepathic senses an iota, like half-opening eyes squeezed shut. Her breath caught. ‘These drones are… confused. Addled.’

‘Jack.’ Cortez spoke quietly, firmly. ‘When Rosara first felt stuff, you had a thought, an inkling. This isn’t a normal Diamond, is it? Not if this is what the Cube was looking for.’

‘Or,’ said Logan, ‘the probe took the data and has run home and we’re in deep -’

‘That’s not what you thought!’ Cortez pressed. ‘Assume, for a moment, we’re not dead. What did you think?’

He closed his eyes, breathing slowing. Then he said, ‘The pathogen.’

Thawn looked back at him. ‘Voyager’s?’

He nodded. ‘The Collective was shattered by it. Countless ships were lost. Destroyed, weakened, disconnected. If this is what the Cube was looking for… if the probe’s had to try to connect to this Diamond using old protocols… if the drones aren’t acting cohesively… then maybe this is a Diamond that fell to the pathogen, and was lost from the Collective.’

‘Then the Cube was trying to recover a command-level asset,’ said Cortez, nodding enthusiastically like he was a child being talked through his maths homework. ‘That makes sense, right?’

‘That means,’ said Thawn, looking up to the central, elevated chamber, ‘these systems might not fight back so much if we try to get access.’

‘Or the drones will be erratic. Unpredictable,’ Logan warned, eyes opened again. But he drew another breath and nodded again. ‘There might be another probe aboard. Something we can commandeer. I don’t like the odds of it, but…’

‘But it’s better than curling up and dying,’ said Cortez with forced cheer. ‘So we go find a bay?’

He shook his head. ‘We want the control centre. We need to figure out the state of things.’

As one, they turned to the network of gantries spilling up to the central, elevated diamond chamber. Cortez swore. ‘Then let’s go.’ She patted her holstered phaser. ‘And hope we don’t gotta blast our way through.’

‘If we blast,’ said Logan, falling back to take up the rear, ‘then we’re screwed.’

‘Come on, Jack. We’re already screwed.’ Cortez gave him a wink, then led the way.

The drones paid them no mind. It was nothing like what Thawn had read about, of the drones impassively going about their business. Some stood in their alcoves, unmoving, regenerating. Others were slumped over, perhaps inert or dead, left where they had fallen. Others were worse, still. One stood and stared at a corner as they passed, and Thawn nearly jumped out of her skin when, at the last second, it raised a hand – only to tap at a bulkhead as if it were an access panel, ignoring them.

The hot air made her squirm in her suit, sweat cascading down the back of her neck. It made her chest feel tight, like a swamp was taking up residence in her lungs, as if the atmosphere of a Borg ship was an infection, a miasma. They’d only brought single water bottles with their supplies, and while she let herself have a swig as they proceeded, she didn’t dare guzzle as deep as she craved.

Then a drone before them, stood stock still as it had loomed in silhouette on the gantry ahead, turned in one sharp movement. Thawn yelped, fumbled her water bottle – then it fell, tumbling out into the oblivion of the open chamber. She did not hear it land and didn’t care as the drone came staggering towards them, faster than any she’d seen move before, a loping, lopsided, dragging pace.

‘To the side!’ Logan barked, and they flattened themselves against the gantry railing. The loping drone barged past them, shoving into Cortez, who almost toppled over. Thawn grabbed her, felt the drone’s elbow in the side of her suit, heard Logan grunt –

Then it had passed, bull-rushing them as if they were nothing, and carried on its loping, nightmarish march down the gantry.

‘How long,’ she gasped once she had voice again, ‘do you think this Diamond’s been separated?’

‘Impossible to say,’ whispered Logan, sounding nevertheless very loud in the tense quiet. ‘These ships are real self-sufficient. Could have been the whole fifteen years.’

Cortez exhaled slowly. ‘We’re at the gantry up. Let’s go.’

They ascended, staggering up steps, moving into the interweaving walkways heading up to the central diamond. The view was not much improved by being able to see more, because what they could see was this ragged and broken army of drones. Even if only one in ten acted as a Borg drone should, that was enough to hold an armada at bay.

The doors to the final chamber were sealed, but Cortez swung to the access panel, popped her tricorder and set to work. ‘The security protocols on this ain’t great. I can do this.’

Thawn shifted her feet. ‘I know we want to do that. But do we want to do that?’

Logan handed her his water bottle. ‘One foot in front of the other.’ He was, she thought, much more in control if he had somebody else to reassure or worry about. That was a little comfort. It meant that she could help the team by letting herself freak out because then Logan would be freaking out less.

‘Right. Got it. Be ready; if anything pisses them all off, this is gonna be it.’ Cortez stepped away from the panel and keyed a button on her forearm pad. The door slid open.

Only darkness greeted them. Then their next inhales took a lungful of stale, putrid air, and Thawn gagged. ‘What is that…’

‘Oh,’ breathed Logan, his eyes wide. It was a simple word. A simple sound. But he filled it with horror and reverence, shock and awe, and before any of them had rallied, he had activated the flashlight on his suit and advanced with his arm raised. Trying to not gag, they followed.

The humidity in this chamber was even deeper, the torches breaking the darkness but not fully breaching the mist. Still, all they saw at first was four control banks arranged in a square, and while the gleam of their systems reflected off their lights, they were not active. Nor was there any sign of drone, active or dead, and there was nothing to account for the heavy putrescence they had sunk deeper into.

‘I get,’ said Cortez, her voice echoing in the dark, ‘that even drones use control panels. That the ships don’t fully run themselves. But what needs a, a control centre like this?’

Thawn knew the answer. She knew Cortez knew the answer. And Logan most certainly knew the answer as his eyes turned skywards into darkness. He could see through it better than them, and it was for their benefit that he lifted his arm, and the torch, slowly.

‘I was afraid of that,’ he sighed, somehow sounding calm despite the sheer terror and horror roiling off him that Thawn couldn’t help but be bathed in stood by his side. ‘‘Cos it’s simple. She needed it.’

The flashlight fell on a shape hanging over them, and Thawn had to bite back a whimper. But the shape didn’t move, didn’t react, and even as murderous shadows amplified the silhouetted figure, cascading them across the bulkhead, all was still and all was silent.

Suspended by her own regeneration system, hanging limp from the bulkheads above them, rotten and putrescent where there was flesh, plating dull where there was metal, there was no mistaking what they had found. Who they had found. They had reached it, the heart of this Borg Diamond, and found it truly dead.

Found a Borg Queen hanging above them, and she was truly dead.

‘She’s dead.’ Logan’s voice held a quiet reverence.

Thawn found her jaw slack as she gazed up at the hanging form of the husk of a Borg Queen. When she managed to speak, her throat felt as if she’d been screaming. ‘I thought,’ she rasped, ‘Admiral Picard killed the Queen months ago.’

‘He killed a body.’ Logan stepped slowly about the suspended cadaver, eyes locked on the rotten remains of the heart of the Collective. ‘Starfleet’s killed Queens before… Wolf 359, Sector 001, Voyager killed at least one before the pathogen’s release. These are just vessels.’

Thawn swallowed. ‘They exist simultaneously?’

His expression creased. ‘Perhaps.’

‘You don’t know? You were in the Collective -’

‘Knowledge, memory from in the Collective… it doesn’t work like that. We didn’t conceive of the Queen as an individual drone just because she inhabited specific bodies.’ His voice creaked like words struggled to contain the meaning he needed to convey. ‘But these aren’t just vessels for a programme. For at least a time, this was the Queen.’

At last, Thawn fumbled her tricorder up to run the scan. ‘This flesh has definitely been decomposing for over ten years. But it’s hard to be sure because of the cybernetics.’ Where skin and muscle had rotted away, it was not bone beneath but tarnished metal.

‘This Diamond carried a queen on an important mission sometime after the pathogen’s release,’ Logan breathed. ‘Then the corruption must have killed her and disconnected the ship. It’s been lost ever since.’

The ship had not been silent. Throughout its dim and wretched chambers, echoes of metal had sounded out, reverberations of the deck. The Diamond may have been dying, but it was not dead. But the next rumble that ran through the plating was something else, a deeper hum accompanied by a distant whirring. Logan and Thawn both froze, and from behind them, Cortez said, ‘Oh, shit.’

They turned to see the engineer at the central panels, all lit up now. She looked back at them, eyes widening. ‘Guys? The ship’s reactivating.’

‘That’s what the probe was doing,’ gasped Logan. ‘Reconnecting the Diamond. The Cube must have been looking for this ship to recover the Queen.’

‘Can we stop this?’ said Thawn quickly. ‘There’s so much damage here, this thing can’t be reactivated immediately. Can we access the systems, shut things down, lock the probe out?’

Cortez ran her hands over the controls and shrugged. ‘There’s nothing I can do. It looks like this chamber’s been locked out from manual interface.’

‘It is,’ said Logan, and Thawn caught his eyes on the dangling interlink cables. ‘The Queen connects to the Diamond directly from here. She’s still plugged in. Even if she’s dead, only she could disconnect this room.’

‘Then we need to find,’ said Thawn, ‘somewhere else.’

Another light flashed on the control panels, and Cortez slid across to it. ‘What the… the Diamond’s detecting another transwarp conduit opening.’

‘It’s already generating one and getting out of here?’ said Thawn.

‘The Diamond didn’t do this. Something’s coming out.’

‘The probe must have sent a signal for backup,’ said Logan.

‘It’s not the Borg.’ Cortez turned to face them, stunned. ‘It’s Endeavour.’

‘Conduit integrity is collapsing.’ Airex didn’t speak loudly, but his urgency carried his words across the bridge. ‘We have to leave now.’

‘Exiting transwarp!’ called Lindgren in the affirmative. ‘Hang on!’

Valance’s grip on the armrests of the captain’s chair was iron-tight. ‘All hands, brace! Red alert!’

Endeavour tumbled back to impulse speed like a warp field had collapsed around her. Inertial dampeners worked enough to stop them from being smeared against bulkheads, but did little short of that. Athaka was thrown from his station at Ops, Beckett had to crawl back into the tertiary command chair, and Lindgren worked well to stay at her controls. The ship slowed and steadied, and the crew gathered themselves.

Kharth had somehow kept her position through willpower alone. ‘Report. What’s our status?’

‘All systems operational,’ groaned Athaka.

‘Navigational deflectors took a pounding,’ said Qadir, ‘but we’re ready.’

‘Airex.’ Valance looked to her right. ‘Where are we?’

He took a second to check. ‘At least two hundred light-years from our point of origin, Captain. Right where we intended to be.’

Shepherd let out a low whistle. ‘You mean we just ripped the Borg’s own transwarp conduit back open and rode piggyback, and it worked?’

‘Only because of the subspace fractures from the collapse of the Cube’s initial conduit and how recently the probe had entered transwarp,’ said Airex, jaw tight. ‘This was a one-way transwarp ticket.’

Valance opened her mouth to point out they could deal with one problem at a time, but there was a chirrup from Tactical. ‘Captain.’ Qadir’s voice took on fresh urgency. ‘There’s a Borg ship out there. Bigger than anything I’ve… ever heard of.’

She stood. ‘On screen.’

The Diamond looked like someone had taken a Cube, tilted and warped and stretched it. But she could see the scoring on the hull, the rending in its body, the damage it had taken. They were in deep space, light-years from any planets and here, in the dark between the stars, they had finally found their objective. A stronghold the likes of which she’d hoped to never see for herself.

‘It’s on low power,’ said Airex, hands racing over controls. ‘Definitely not fully operational. But…’ He clicked his tongue. ‘It looks like it’s regenerating. I can detect the Alpha Wreck probe; it’s docked with the Diamond and is running on full power.’

‘Captain, I think this ship hasn’t been operational for a long time,’ Qadir added. ‘Looking at its shield profile and defences.’

‘This was it,’ breathed Beckett. ‘The Cube was on a repair mission. A rescue mission.’

‘Then let’s not get in each other’s way,’ said Valance sharply. ‘Mister Athaka, can you detect our people?’

‘Negative, Captain.’

‘The Diamond has its shields up; it’s blocking our scans,’ said Qadir.

Kharth stood. ‘Then we go and get them.’ She looked at Valance. ‘Permission to take the Excalibur out.’

Airex leaned forward. ‘If the Excalibur can get close enough, it should be possible to bypass the Diamond’s shields and beam them out.’

‘If,’ said Shepherd, brow furrowing, ‘you can find them.’

Valance drew a sharp breath. ‘Commander Kharth, take Airex and Lindgren and get the Excalibur out there. Bring our people back.’

Beckett got to his feet. ‘I’m going with them.’

Valance stared at him for a moment. She knew she should shut him down but knew what that was asking of him: to sit by her side, silent and pointless, while this unfolded. More importantly, she didn’t have time for an argument. ‘Go,’ she said.

The away team had jumped into a turbolift when Qadir’s console chirruped again. Now his voice dropped a pitch. ‘Captain, the Diamond is activating weaponry. I think it’s spotted us. And it’s not happy.’

‘We didn’t come here to make Borg happy.’ She turned to the front, hands behind her back. ‘We cover the Excalibur. Draw the Diamond’s attention if we have to. Let them rescue our people, then we run.’

And hope they don’t chase us.

‘What are they doing?’ hissed Logan, looking over Cortez’s shoulder at the display.

‘Rescuing us, I guess,’ said Cortez.

‘They’re going to get themselves killed.’

Thawn said, ‘How did they even get here?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Cortez, looking between control panel displays. ‘But it’s pissed the Diamond off. This thing’s still a wreck, but its self-repair protocols have been activated by the probe or the Collective, an’ even on a bad day it can eat Endeavour for breakfast.’

‘We need to signal them,’ said Thawn. ‘Find a way to help them beam us out of here.’

‘I still,’ said Cortez through gritted teeth, ‘can’t do anything. And we don’t know where to go. Back to the probe?’

‘That’s got all of its systems working,’ said Thawn. ‘If it’s activating combat protocols, it’ll be maybe even harder to override. We have to do something.’

‘I don’t know what!’ Cortez snapped.

‘I do.’

They turned to find Logan had walked away from the controls and stood before the Queen. In his hand was one of the dangling interface cables. He stared at it as if it were something alien, incomprehensible, when Thawn knew he understood only too well exactly what he held in his hand.

‘Jack.’ Cortez’s voice was tight. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

‘This Diamond ain’t fully reconnected to the Collective, is it?’ he said, looking at her. ‘The probe’s transmitted reactivation protocols, its local network is still up, but it ain’t taking its marching orders from the Collective yet, right?’

‘I… I think you’re right.’ Cortez’s words tumbled over each other. ‘But I don’t pretend to understand this.’

‘And if we let the Diamond carry on, it’s gonna blow up the ship. Assimilate ‘em. Assimilate us. Yeah. You’re right.’ Logan looked back at the interface tube. ‘I shouldn’t do nothin’ stupid.’ Then he rammed the connector into the back of his neck.

‘Let the record show,’ said Lindgren as the Excalibur swung under her command away from Endeavour and towards the Diamond, ‘that this is a terrible idea.’

‘You can stay on the bridge,’ Beckett said roughly from the co-pilot seat beside her.

Lindgren glared at him. ‘Rosara was my friend first. You can stop being a dick.’

Normally, even Kharth would have flinched at Lindgren, of all people, lashing out. Today was not normal. ‘Shut up and focus,’ she snapped from the runabout’s tactical controls. ‘We’ve got one shot at this.’

‘And we need to be fast,’ said Airex. ‘The Diamond is reactivating its systems. The longer we take, the more resilient its defences will be, and the harder it’ll be for us to beam them out.’

Through the canopy, the Diamond loomed larger and larger, and Kharth’s chest tightened as she realised it was, in fact, on the move. At the front, Beckett read from his display. ‘Endeavour is on the move. She’s looping around the far side to draw their attention.’

‘It’s a Diamond,’ sighed Kharth. ‘It doesn’t have a weak side.’

‘All the more reason to be fast,’ said Airex. ‘The Diamond still has limited power for allocation. Diverting its attention helps us. In time, it’ll swat Endeavour with one hand and not even blink about pinching us out with the other.’

‘So we fly right at it,’ said Lindgren. ‘Simple. Great.’

‘It is definitely,’ said Kharth, ‘simple. Do it, Lieutenant.’

‘Regeneration protocols active. Enemy ship identified bearing one-seven-five-mark-four-two. Directive: eliminate.’ The voice emanating from Logan’s mouth was his and yet not his, echoing and reverberating. He hung from the interface tube, limp and yet ramrod-straight, standing in the shadows of the rotting Queen above him.

‘Did we,’ said Cortez in a small voice, ‘just make this real worse?’

‘He’s not gone,’ said Thawn. ‘I can still sense him. I can sense them, but he’s still… him.’

Logan’s eyes snapped open, ink-black. ‘We will be one again.’

‘You sure?’ Cortez squeaked.

‘Oh,’ said Thawn. ‘Definitely not.’

‘Regeneration protocol priority: Alpha. Elimination protocol priority: Alpha. Override: Rejected.’ Logan twitched, and for a heartbeat, his eyes cleared, and he looked up at them. ‘…can’t… shut this back down…’

When Thawn looked over, she found Cortez had drawn her phaser. ‘I won’t let you screw this worse, Jack,’ the engineer said shakily.

Grey eyes locked on her. ‘Good.’ Then they turned black as night again. Logan spasmed once more, then stiffened as he said, ‘Core meltdown protocol identified. Access… denied. Denied. Denied…’

Thawn rushed to Cortez’s side and put a hand on her forearm. ‘Wait. He’s trying to…’

‘Core meltdown protocol accessed.’ Logan’s head snapped back up. His eyes were still black, but Thawn was certain they were on them both. ‘Execute?’

‘Kill us all,’ said Cortez. ‘He’s trying to kill us all.’ But she lowered her phaser. ‘We can’t raise Endeavour. It looks like they can’t punch through our shields.’ She turned back to the control panel, gaze racing over the feed. ‘Endeavour’s going to engage them. They’re going to get obliterated.’

‘And then,’ said Thawn, ‘there’s a Borg Diamond, active probably on the front door of the Romulans or the Klingons, just as the whole Collective is waking up.’

Logan’s next breath came in a ragged gasp as if his body had forgotten to breathe. His voice rasped as he repeated, almost pleadingly, ‘Execute?’

‘Shit,’ sighed Cortez. ‘You really want to do this, Jack?’

‘Designation… Chief of Security, USS Endeavour. Directive… protect the ship. No…’ He grunted, now straining. Thawn saw tendons standing out on his neck, and once more, Logan spasmed. ‘Designation, Jack Logan. I am… not theirs. I am… not helpless.’

Thawn looked from him at Cortez. If she thought for very long, she realised, she’d be able to feel terror. All there was for now was a dull, thudding sense of understanding of the situation before them. ‘Is there any other way we can shut down this Diamond?’

‘If the Diamond’s new Queen can’t do it?’ Cortez inhaled slowly through her nostrils, and she turned back to Logan. ‘You ain’t helpless, Jack. It’s your play. We’ll follow.’

Another grunt as Logan’s eyes screwed shut. Then, ‘Core meltdown initiated. Maintaining control… preventing override…’

Cortez stepped up beside Thawn, and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘That’ll take a minute or two to really blow,’ she said quietly.

‘Of course,’ said Thawn, her voice rather distant. ‘This is going to happen. And they won’t know. They won’t know it was us, they’ll just think it was some accident. Nobody will know.’

‘The Collective will know.’ Logan’s strained voice echoed in the dark chamber. ‘An’ when they get to hell, they can say who sent ‘em.’

Cortez was thoughtfully silent after that assessment. ‘Lotta ways I thought I’d go. This weren’t it.’

Thawn gave a tiny nod. ‘But it’ll keep them safe. Right?’

‘They’ve got a targeting lock on us,’ Kharth called.

‘Taking evasive!’ The Excalibur swung around as Borg weapons fire flashed what felt like inches away from the canopy.

Beckett felt his chest ease at Lindgren’s piloting, but still, his hammering of the sensor controls yielded no results. ‘I still can’t break through the interference of their shields.’

‘You mean we have to go even closer?’ Lindgren yelped.

‘What the…’ Airex gasped. ‘The Diamond’s dropped its containment field around the core. They’re suffering a major coolant leak – losing antimatter containment…’

‘Did Endeavour hit it?’ said Kharth.

‘No, this looks like a systems malfunction,’ said Airex. ‘But that’s going to blow in… minutes.’ Then he swore. ‘I still can’t break through this interference. We’d have to be right on top of the away team to beam them out.’

‘This ship is massive, and it’s trying to kill us,’ Kharth snapped. ‘We can’t do a fly-by in minutes, and we’re still in the dark trying to find them!’

Airex said more. Lindgren said more, the Excalibur swerving as the dying Diamond didn’t stop trying to take them with them. But Beckett wasn’t listening as Kharth’s words echoed in him.

I could find you in the dark.

Why can’t that go both ways?

There were a myriad of reasons. He wasn’t a telepath, to begin with. But still, Beckett slammed his eyes shut, focused out all sound from the rest of the cockpit, and concentrated.

It was impossible to tell what was his imagination. What was memory. What was sheer desperation. But when he opened his eyes again, moments that felt like hours later, he gave no room for doubt as he turned to Lindgren and said, ‘I know where they are,’ before punching coordinates into the co-pilot’s controls.

Kharth stared at him. ‘Beckett, what the hell -’

‘Trust me,’ he snapped. ‘I’m sure.’

He wasn’t. He didn’t know if it was even possible for their latent telepathic connection to go both ways. He didn’t know if he wasn’t just making things up, imagining a presence. But when he’d closed his eyes and reached out with his very being, projected his thoughts across a million kilometres, he could have sworn there was something out there. Her.

Unexpectedly, it was Airex who spoke up. ‘Trust him,’ he said. ‘I’ve seen this before.’

Lindgren whistled. ‘Okay. What’ve we got to lose?’

‘It’s gotta be less than a minute,’ said Cortez, reading from the main display. ‘I feel like I oughta say something, but what the hell for?’ She looked at Thawn. ‘Hey. You still with us?’

Thawn’s head snapped back around. ‘I… yes.’ She rubbed her temples. ‘I thought I heard something.’

‘That’s just hope,’ said Cortez in a mock-airy voice. ‘It pipes up in the face of death.’

‘If you can say that, then that means you’ve been right to hope every time?’

Cortez opened her mouth, doubtless to argue. Then there came a chirrup from their EV suits. ‘Excalibur to away team. Come in!’

The engineer’s jaw dropped, then she smacked the button on her forearm. ‘Sae, you beautiful creature, tell me you can get us the hell out of here!’

‘It took practically crawling inside this thing. We’ve got a lock on you and Thawn, but… Logan’s life sign is… what’s going on?’

Cortez looked at Logan. His eyes were shut, jaw tight, muscles spasming with the effort of whatever was going on. Likely, the Diamond was not embracing death willingly. Perhaps its efforts to reconnect to the Collective were advancing. Whatever line needed holding, he was holding it. ‘He, uh… he plugged in.’

‘What?’

‘To the Diamond. He’s set off the core overload.’ Cortez strode towards him. ‘Jack – Jack, we’re getting out of here.’

When Logan opened his eyes, this time, they were milky white. His voice slurred even though it still held the echo. ‘…keeping… them out…’

Airex’s voice came over the comms. ‘If you can disconnect him, it has to be now. This ship is going to explode, and we can’t be this close when it happens.’

Cortez put a hand on Logan’s shoulder. ‘They can’t stop this. It’s too late; containment’s been lost, antimatter levels are rising. Let me disconnect you.’

Another grunt. ‘…go. Need to see this out.’

Cortez hissed an oath. ‘He’s not cooperating, Excalibur.’

‘Jack.’ Saeihr Kharth’s voice rang through the chamber. She had to have raised the volume on the comms from her end, her words reverberating to fill the room and be all they knew. ‘I’m not going to let you die alone.’

He went still. ‘I don’t…’

‘You’ve beaten them already. That doesn’t mean you get to die yet. Now, you’ve got to live. Live in spite of the people who chewed you up and spat you out.’ Thawn would have sworn she heard a waver in Kharth’s voice. ‘Come back.’

Logan’s eyes shut again, and Cortez was shaking her head and looking like she was about to give the order for them to pull out. Thawn put a hand on her arm, stopping her. Then the connection dropped out of the back of Logan’s neck, and he tumbled forward, falling to his knees.

Cortez swore in Spanish. ‘Cutting it close. Get us out of here, Excalibur!’

Lights shone bright, a light that could not pierce the darkness of this heart of the Borg’s power, but it was enough to take them away. A heartbeat later, the putrid air of the control centre was gone, and they stood in the brightness of the deck of the runabout Excalibur.

Then they all fell over as the ship swerved wildly at Lindgren’s manoeuvring. ‘We are leaving!’ she called.

Kharth wasn’t staying put. She pulled herself out of her chair and grabbed the medkit before racing back. Logan lay on the deck, still and unmoving, only the rasping of his breath confirming he was still alive. ‘Commander? Hell.’ She fumbled with the medkit, grabbing the tricorder. Cortez rolled over to join and assist.

Thawn groaned as her focus swum in and out of Logan’s state and back to her own. Awkwardly, she sat up, only to at once find Beckett by her side, his eyes shining bright with concern. ‘Are you okay?’ he said.

They’d rowed. Said hurtful things. And that all felt irrelevant as she grabbed him and pulled him close. ‘I’m okay.’

Over his shoulder, she saw Airex looking back from the cockpit at her. ‘Your mastering of your telepathic talents once again saves the day, Lieutenant. Great work.’

She blinked and pulled back from Beckett. ‘What?’

‘Oh,’ said Beckett, glancing between them. ‘Sorry, Commander. Rosara didn’t look for me. I, uh. Looked for her.’ He turned back to her, eyes shining. ‘Guess I can find you in the dark, too.’

‘Buckle up, everyone!’ Lindgren interrupted from the cockpit. ‘We’re getting clear!’

‘Captain, that Diamond’s about to explode. We need to be out of the blast radius.’

Shepherd had said this minutes ago. On her armrest display, Valance had watched as they calculated the time to detonation, Endeavour’s potential top impulse speed as they took blow after blow from the Borg ship’s weapons, watching for the last possible second before they couldn’t stay any longer.

Five. Four.

She looked up at the viewscreen, at the looming Diamond, still formidable as its regeneration protocols continued to make it mightier and mightier even as its heart burned itself out. ‘Any sign of the Excalibur?’

‘Negative,’ said Qadir. ‘They’re too close to the Diamond’s hull to pick them up.’

There was a pause. At mission control, Shepherd got no further than saying, ‘Cap-’ before Valance spoke again.

‘Get us out of here. Maximum impulse.’

Endeavour’s deck surged as they rushed away, and Valance found herself grabbing fistfuls of the ship. All she had done was drive her crew to the brink, drag them on a terribly dangerous path to the edge of known space, and sacrifice some of her best officers, all to a Borg ship that had been so unstable it was going to destroy itself and take with it the people she’d come to rescue.

Death. Suffering. Loss. All for nothing.

On Frontier Day, she’d been helpless to act. Nobody could have expected her to do more than she did. It was not reasonable, even she knew, to consider that her first true test as captain. No, this was her true test. And she’d failed.

The Diamond tore itself asunder. It was not in one detonation, but the viewscreen kept it in sight as something exploded deep in its belly – then came the chain reaction, racking the surface to rip up the hull, tear through power systems, consume it in an inferno. Whatever had gone wrong was a mortal wound, and by the time the dust settled, it made even the debris from the Alpha Wreck look robust.

Shepherd checked her readings, then let out a slow breath. ‘We’re clear.’

Valance stood. ‘The Excalibur?’

‘Scanning.’ Shepherd was silent. ‘There’s a lot of debris out there,’ she said after a minute, her forced cheer enough to grate down Valance’s spine. ‘They’re only small.’

At comms, Kally pressed a finger to her earpiece. ‘Endeavour to Excalibur. Please come in,’ she said, voice quiet, hopeful.

‘Only small,’ said Valance, ‘and there’s no sign they were getting clear before us.’

‘The Diamond was putting out a lot of sensor interference,’ Qadir reminded them.

‘Endeavour to Excalibur. Please answer.’

‘I’m not picking up their transponder,’ said Shepherd. ‘Might be it was taken out.’

‘Without blowing them up?’ said Valance.

‘It’s possible.’

‘Endeavour to Excalibur. Please -’

‘This is the Excalibur!’ Kharth’s voice came in a crackle across the bridge, and though Valance heard the gasps of relief from her crew, she could not relax one iota. ‘We’re singed, but okay.’

Valance fair flew at Kally, leaning over the comms panel. ‘Commander, mission report!’

‘It’s good to hear your voice too, Valance,’ drawled Kharth. ‘And what you’re asking is, did we pull off the rescue?’ Valance knew she’d been given the answer by her XO’s casual tone, but still the ice in her gut could not ease, would not stop in its crawl up her chest, into her throat, into her heart. ‘All present and accounted for. But we need to get Commander Logan to Sickbay.’

Valance closed her eyes and felt her legs waver. If she allowed it, she could fall now. Tumble to the deck and give up fighting. But it was not over. She braced herself against the controls. ‘Acknowledged. Good work, Commander. Bring the runabout back. We’ve got a long trip home.’

‘Yeah, about that,’ said Kharth. ‘How far out are we?’

Valance looked at Shepherd, eyebrows raised. The other officer ran her hands over the controls, re-running calculations that had only been done in haste at their arrival.

‘At least two weeks,’ said Shep. ‘Could be worse.’

‘Huh,’ came Kharth’s reply. ‘That kind of summarises it all, doesn’t it?’

Kharth strode into Sickbay, Cortez on her heels, Beckett and Thawn following a short distance behind. Lindgren was running the post-flight sequence on the Excalibur, Airex had headed for the bridge, but Logan had been beamed aboard the moment they’d come into transporter range.

‘Doc!’ Kharth looked around sharply, but the only answer came as Nurse Li exited the surgical theatre. Her heart tightened. ‘Is it that bad…’

‘After what you said, we beamed him in directly. We were worried about brain damage.’ But Li raised her hands. ‘We’ve applied both cortolin and cortical stimulators. He’s responded very well. Doctor Winters is with him.’

‘I want to see him -’

‘We’ve avoided brain-death, Commander, but that’s it. The doctor’s still working.’ There weren’t many people aboard who could say ‘no’ to Saeihr Kharth. Technically, Ed Winters was one of them. Practically, Nurse Li was the one who stood her ground against all-comers so he could work his magic and save lives – and with the other hand, provide essential medical assistance. As Kharth stopped, she turned to the others. ‘He also wants me to check the rest of the missing team. Biobeds, go.’

Cortez squeezed Kharth’s shoulder, but knew better than to argue. She and Thawn headed off, Beckett following but at once being kept at bay by Li. Grinding her teeth, Kharth walked to one of the chairs next to the surgical theatre door, sat, and waited.

Minutes later, Winters emerged. He looked surprised to see her. ‘Are you well, Commander?’

‘Logan.’ She stood. ‘How is he?’ Cortez had been given the all-clear by Li and joined them.

Winters glanced between them. ‘You say he was reconnected with the Collective?’

‘Just on the Diamond,’ said Cortez. ‘He plugged himself in using one of the Queen’s, uh, access ports. I don’t pretend to know how that worked, but he had some – control over the ship. Not complete, it sounded like he couldn’t override major operational priorities like killinf Endeavour or reconnecting to the wider Collective. It’s like he was at least a, I don’t know, a mini-Queen.’

‘And the pathogen.’ Kharth looked at her. ‘You said this Diamond had been wrecked by the neurolytic pathogen. Could that have hurt him?’

‘Maybe,’ said Cortez. ‘And the fact the Diamond was reconnecting to the Collective via the probe.’

Winters piped up quickly. ‘Thank you, Commanders. That’s all I need to know.’ At Kharth’s sharp look, he hesitated. ‘Human minds don’t have the processing power for a whole starship’s systems, especially not a Borg Diamond, especially not one connecting to the Collective. The good news is that, for our purposes, Commander Logan is not wholly human; he still has a significant amount of Borg cybernetics in his brain. But not what I can only presume would be a Queen’s hardware.’

‘You’re doing a lot of dithering around a diagnosis, Doc,’ Kharth said with a warning tone.

He sighed. ‘I was trying to not be too technical. Neuroimaging has revealed widespread synaptic pathway degradation. The stimulators and cortolin have prevented brain death, but there’s still an uphill climb.’

‘What does that mean?’ Kharth snapped.

Winters pressed on with endless patience. ‘Thankfully, I have extensive medical records for the commander. And for other former Borg. And the research from the Artifact. We do have treatment measures for injuries like this. I’m going to implement a multi-phasic neuro-regeneration regimen. It’ll stabilise and repair the damaged synaptic connections. Based on Commander Logan’s history, I’m optimistic.’

‘But?’

Now he winced. ‘The neurolytic pathogen is a concern. It’s a factor I can’t account for. And I won’t know until we begin and we see how he responds.’

‘Nuts and bolts, Doc,’ said Kharth. ‘What’s the worst-case scenario?’

Winters sighed. ‘Neurolytic degradation to the extent he falls into a coma and eventually all brain activity stops.’

‘And the best?’ said Cortez with a wince.

‘Full recovery. I’ll have a better idea within six hours when we see how he initially responds. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I should get started.’

Kharth stared at the chair by the theatre door, and again, Cortez put a hand on her shoulder. ‘I’d tell you to sleep,’ Cortez said, ‘but I reckon that’s not gonna happen. So sit your ass down, I’ll go report in, and I’ll make sure someone’s getting you coffee.’

‘Yeah.’ Kharth blinked, then looked at her. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

Cortez shrugged but, at last, gave a grin. ‘I’m glad you’re stupid enough to come get me.’

On the far side of Sickbay, Beckett practically hopped from foot to foot as he waited for Li to be done. She clearly radiated irritation, asking him to step back twice before she finished her check of Thawn and walked away with an aggravated glare.

At once, he swooped in, hopping up beside her on the biobed. ‘All okay?’

Her expression was bashful, amused, relieved. ‘We weren’t gone for very long. What in the Great Fire did you do to catch up with us?’

Now it was his turn to smile, pleased and guilty all at once. ‘Commander Airex realised that the subspace fractions from the collapse of the initial conduit meant that it would be possible to breach the transwarp threshold, if we exactly followed your path. We modified the deflector array to emit a calibrated tachyon burst to basically reopen the conduit behind you. Endeavour has more power than the probe – we were faster through transwarp than you.’

‘Wow.’ Thawn blinked. ‘We certainly can’t do that back.’ He shook his head, and she frowned at nothing. ‘How did Commander Airex figure out those deflector calibrations that quickly? In hours?’

Because the USS Voyager once made those modifications to their ship, and almost destroyed themselves, and those records were classified. And I handed them over to Airex. They would have failed as Voyager did if it weren’t for the subspace fractures, which meant it took lower tachyon emissions to achieve the same result.

‘He’s very smart,’ Beckett said first, but he saw Thawn’s expression flicker. She was exhausted and emotionally fraught; she had to know he’d just lied. This time it wasn’t pride or a sense of privacy that rose up, however, but shame. He sighed, leaning in against her. ‘No. That’s not it. I got him the data he needed out of Starfleet Intelligence. Out of Captain Faust.’

The corners of her eyes creased. ‘How?’

‘I made a deal.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know my end of the bargain yet. I know this was what you tore strips off me for before you left, I know you’re disappointed…’

Her hand came up to his cheek, and she turned his head to face her. ‘I’m alive. I was angry before, but I don’t want you making decisions that’ll make you miserable, guilty. I know how hard you’ve fought against your father.’

‘This wasn’t about him,’ Beckett said roughly. ‘It wasn’t about the Borg, or Frontier Day, or Faust. There’s a price to pay, and I’ll figure that out. But I…’ He reached up to grasp her hand, kissed the inside of her wrist, and closed his eyes. ‘I didn’t want to figure out the alternative without you. I just got you.’

‘You did. And we’ll figure all of that out.’ She leaned in, their foreheads pressing against each other, and her next words came as a whisper. ‘And you found me.’

‘Yeah, I… didn’t know what I was doing,’ Beckett mumbled. ‘I was desperate. I just concentrated on you and wondered if, I don’t know. You’d sense me, and somehow that’d work both ways.’

She shook her head a little. ‘I didn’t feel you out there. You did this all on your own.’ Only then did he realise her lips weren’t moving, that her voice was in his head. It felt like she’d slid inside him, like she was a warmth that passed through his temples and seeped into his very being.

Beckett frowned. Concentrated. Is that normal?

Again, she pressed her forehead to his. Telepathic bonds with non-telepaths are known to happen. Not often.

‘Huh,’ he mused aloud, because it was still a little uncomfortable to just think sentences and not know if they were heard. ‘I guess I really am special.’

The bridge was still and quiet when Airex stepped out of the turbolift. Already, Valance had stood down some of the officers who’d been pushed to their brink in the encounter, relief crew settling in to assess the damage, take stock. Valance herself was, of course, still in the command chair and stood at the sight of him. For a moment, he thought she didn’t know what to say; then, she braced herself. ‘Good work, Commander.’

‘Yeah,’ chimed in Shepherd at mission control. ‘This flight data coming in off the Excalibur is crazy.’ She sounded, he thought, jealous. Shep did not belong chained to a bridge console.

‘My role was marginal,’ Airex said, lifting his hands as he advanced. ‘Everyone else deserves credit for getting us close enough to beam them out. Doctor Winters is seeing to them. I’m not sure about Commander Logan’s condition, but everyone else is alright.’ He met her gaze, tried to convey everything he needed to with the merest flicker of the eye. She would not thank him for reassuring her about Cortez in public. But she needed it.

Indeed, it looked like a fresh weight had been taken off Valance’s shoulders. She turned to the fore of the ship, and as Airex moved to the central dais, Shepherd joined them. The captain gestured about the bridge. ‘We managed to keep up our hit-and-run routine to distract the Diamond. Power levels are depleted after the hammering our shields took, but no serious damage.’

‘We’re lucky,’ said Shepherd, ‘it happened quick as it did. That thing was getting tougher and tougher all the time. Not the way round you want a fight to go.’

‘The Diamond?’ said Airex.

Valance shook her head. ‘Destroyed. There’s debris scattered everywhere. I’m not minded to investigate. I think we’ve disturbed the dead quite enough for one month.’

A part of Airex strained at that. Starfleet had never pored over a Borg Diamond, even one as damaged as they’d found this one. He was not a man to balk at the idea of discovery, however dangerous. But even he had, perhaps, found his limit. He glanced towards Science, where Lieutenant Turak had taken his post. He asked Valance, ‘Do we have clearer data on our location?’

Shepherd answered, ‘Out past the ass-end of old Romulan space. We’re running off what our deep-space telescopes scanned and what little cartography we picked up off the collapse of the Empire, or off the Klingons.’

‘It’s unclear,’ said Valance, ‘if the Star Empire ever did get this far. Your estimation was correct, though; this is at least a ten-day journey home. That’s if we burn our warp core hot and don’t stop for anything.’

‘And something out here might want us to stop,’ mused Airex, ‘if we’re deep in the territory of Romulan warlords.’

‘So first,’ said Valance, ‘we take stock of the ship. Repair. Send a message back to Gateway, though that’ll still take days to arrive. Then we figure out our next move.’

‘Well, then.’ Airex clicked his tongue. ‘I had better talk to Perrek so we can undo those deflector modifications.’

‘You should sleep, Commander,’ Valance chided.

He looked her in the eye. ‘When will you?’ She didn’t respond. Shepherd laughed, which felt a little like an intrusion, though one he could not begrudge her for.

Even here, on the edge of space, some things didn’t change.

Kharth’s muscles whined as she shifted, and for a moment, she wondered why her bed had become so uncomfortable. Then she remembered where she was.

‘Hey, sleepy head.’

Her eyes snapped open. They’d moved Logan to a private room after the first hour of his treatment. Winters had said it was still too early to tell, but there was no bad news. All they could do at that point was continue their work and see what happened. Kharth had stubbornly gone with him, sat in a chair by the bed, and expected to wait. Now she was opening her eyes some unknown time later to find Jack Logan lying in his biobed, awake and looking at her with a lopsided grin.

‘Shit – you’re up -’ Kharth fought to stand, her limbs a little numb. She hit the button on the biobed to summon medical aid and staggered over. ‘How do you feel?’

He looked pale and worn, the cortical stimulators blending with the Borg implant, all the metal on his face making his skin icy-white. But his eyes were clear and blue and bright, and the smile sincere. ‘Like I’m me again. Thanks to you.’

The door slid open and Winters burst in. He didn’t look much more awake than Kharth, and she stepped away without complaint as the doctor rushed to the displays, checking readings before he leaned over Logan to perform more direct checks. At length, his shoulders dropped. ‘Synaptic patterns are looking good. Your brain has been repairing itself. There’s no sign of any infection or damage from the pathogen.’

‘I had to keep it out,’ Logan croaked. ‘I could feel it, deep in some of the Diamond’s systems. If it had come to it, I could have taken over everything, I think, even the weapons… but it woulda let the pathogen in.’

‘That was,’ said Winters, ‘an excellent piece of self-preservation there, Commander.’

Logan winced. ‘Weren’t self-preservation. If the pathogen took over, no telling whose side I’d have been on. But I feel okay. And I know what “okay” feels like in this context, Doc, probably better than you do.’

‘I appreciate that,’ said Winters, ‘but I know what “okay” looks like in terms of your neural scans. And while this is excellent, I don’t want to stop treatment yet.’

‘You’re sayin,’ Logan drawled, ‘I should lie in bed a little more and take it easy?’

‘Yes.’ Winters looked at Kharth. ‘Make sure he does. I can monitor him from my office.’ His eyes fell on Logan. ‘Rest.’

‘Will do, Doc,’ said Logan as the medical officer left. He flopped back, his eyes flickering up to Kharth. ‘We won, then, I take it?’

‘The Diamond was destroyed. We all got out. Endeavour’s in one piece.’

‘Hell of a rescue.’

Kharth drew a slow breath and found her jaw tightening. ‘It was.’

His eyes met hers at last. ‘Thank you.’

‘It’s my job -’

‘Not for the pickup of all of us. For getting me out.’ The corners of his eyes creased. ‘I coulda stayed in there. I know I was sayin’ I wanted to see it through, make sure they didn’t stop us. But truth is… it was so comforting in there. Like wrapping a blanket around myself.’ He bit his lip. ‘It were like, in a fucked up way, being home.’

She rested her hand on the edge of the biobed and found it wouldn’t move closer to his. ‘I wasn’t going to leave you there.’

‘And also… I don’t think I could have done what I did without you. Not just getting out. Going in, in the first place.’ She dropped her gaze, but he pressed on. ‘You were right. I’ve been telling myself I was helpless against the Collective all these years so I could live with what I did. It’s made me… passive. Accepting everything the galaxy threw at me. All I did was swap one kind of guilt for another, and I’d never have dared even try to fight back in there, take control, destroy them if you hadn’t…’ He swallowed. ‘Convinced me to step up.’

Irrationally, Valance’s words about control rose up within her. Kharth swallowed, tasting something bitter. She still did not look him in the eye. ‘You did all of this by yourself.’

Logan gave a low chuckle. ‘I have one brush with the Collective and you worry I can’t think like an individual no more?’

Despite herself, a small, amused scoff escaped. For a moment, Kharth found herself worrying the inside of her mouth with her teeth, before she finally looked back up at him. ‘I’m glad you’re okay.’

‘You an’ me both.’ He tensed. ‘I discovered something. Just for a fleeting moment, when the Diamond was reconnecting to the Collective. Something big.’ She leaned in, and he drew a deep breath. ‘I know why the Cube came now. After all these years. Why the Borg – why all of them – are awakening now. It’s the Jupiter Signal.’

Kharth’s throat tightened. ‘It’s summoned them – this is an attack?’

‘No, no.’ He shook his head. ‘They didn’t know what it meant. The Collective’s been scattered, shattered. Ravaged by the pathogen, like we knew. They’ve been spending years trying to put themselves back together again, dormant and taking it a step at a time. Until this. Until they received a major command from a Queen.’

‘It’s not called them,’ rasped Kharth. ‘But it’s still woken them up.’

Logan nodded weakly. ‘I could feel ‘em. Shattered and broken across the galaxy. Curling up and waiting to die. They’re still weak. They’re not forming up to come for us. But something about the Jupiter Signal still made the Borg Collective wake up and try to pull itself together.’

‘Shit.’ She closed her eyes a moment. ‘At least now… we know what we’ve got to be ready for.’

‘It won’t happen fast. We got time.’ His eyes dragged over her. ‘You should rest. You look like you didn’t sleep.’

‘I caught several hours of perfectly good rest contorted like a pretzel on that chair,’ Kharth said flatly, feeling her chest ease at the evasion, the levity. ‘But, uh. Yes. I’ll go get rest.’

‘Good.’ He hesitated, then his hand moved quicker than she expected, grabbing hers. ‘And, uh. Thanks. Again.’

All it would take, thought a detached, distant part of Kharth’s mind, was the slightest pressure. Tighten the hold. Squeeze his hand. Even reach out for him herself, brush back a lock of sweaty hair from his brow. Reach out. Reach out. Connect.

She’d known little more than fear for most of the last day. But that had been a driving fear, forcing her on, forcing her to act. The tension in her chest now was similar, but paralysing in a whole new way. Reach out and then what? Connect and find… what?

Had she really sat by his side in sickbay for hours only to pull away once he was conscious? But she knew what pulling away looked like. The alternative was a step towards a chasm, where either she knew nothing of the depths, or she’d been down there before and had emerged with nothing but scars.

Gingerly, Kharth withdrew her hand. ‘Get some rest, Commander.’

His eyes flickered. Then he sighed, closed them, and lay back. ‘Just be grateful,’ he mumbled, ‘I don’t use this whole “wounded soldier” routine to ask you for that drink.’ She watched him for a moment. Wondered if he’d press it, almost hoped he would. But then his breathing slowed and he stayed still and he had to be, she knew, absolutely exhausted.

It was another lucky escape. Because she wasn’t sure what she’d have said if he’d pushed his luck.

Valance brushed her hands off her trousers as if she’d got something on them before realising this was a pointless, nervous tic. Sighing, she straightened, hit the door chime, then clasped her hands behind her back – all the better for the mask of self-control. Only as she walked into the guest quarters at the summons did she remember she came to drop that mask.

‘Oh – hey.’ Cortez was sitting on the sofa by the window but at the sight of her, she stood, visibly awkward. ‘I mean, uh, Captain -’

Valance winced. ‘I came to see how you’re doing,’ she said and prayed this would convey that she wanted to drop the formality.

But the caginess around Cortez remained. ‘Doctor Winters took me off-duty for at least forty-eight hours. I’d rather help with the deflector, sir.’ In the beat that followed as Valance hesitated, unsure how to navigate this, Cortez gestured to the replicator. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

Valance shook her head, polite despite herself. ‘No, thank you. If Doctor Winters has set you the time to rest, you should…’ Her voice trailed off. She shut her eyes. Reaching in and digging out the words took what felt like a herculean effort, but she’d been here before. There were well-worn paths to fear and vulnerability, and somewhere, she’d left lights so she could find her way back. At last, she said, her voice rasping, ‘I was terrified when that probe went to transwarp. I’m glad you’re alright.’

When she opened her eyes, it was Cortez’s turn to look trapped, apprehensive. She shifted. ‘I was pretty terrified.’ But she sounded guarded – not insincere, but apprehensive. ‘Look, nobody said we had to stop caring if the other lived or died –’

‘I left you,’ Valance said, the words bursting out now she’d forced past the walls. ‘And it wasn’t because of you. I put my career first. I had a better offer than… not than what we had, because Jericho saw to it that what we had, both serving aboard this ship, had to end. I had the choice between being shunted to one side or stepping forward, and I chose the latter, and in the process, I dropped you.’

Cortez looked like she didn’t know what to say, startled and unsure. Her eventual response was a sullen, ‘Yes.’

‘If I could have brought you with me to Pathfinder, I would have.’ Valance hesitated. ‘If you’d been coming with me to Nighthawk, that would have been different, too. We shouldn’t pretend that the option was “keep our relationship or get a promotion.” You’d have still been on Triumph. We’d have still not been living together, working together.’

Cortez bit her lip with a flash of frustration. ‘It would have still been more than not seeing you for three months.’

‘I thought we said we’d step apart while we were apart, then take stock once the dust settled. On the squadron, on our lives.’ Valance took a step forward. ‘Was that just something you said to make it go easier?’

‘The dust hasn’t settled,’ Cortez pointed out. ‘I was in Deneb for months. These last weeks haven’t been anything settled. What do you want from me, Karana? To say it’s okay that you left?’

‘You could have stuck this out! You could have tried!’ Valance tossed her hands in the air. ‘You were as much a part of this choice as me, and somehow I’m getting all the blame?’

‘I don’t -’

‘You yelled at me for not expressing myself, you yelled at me for relying on you to help me work through my feelings, but you’re not working through yours, Isa. Are you going to keep pretending that at least some of this was you testing me?’ Cortez looked startled at that accusation, and Valance straightened. ‘Testing me to see if I’d put you first. To see if I’d move heaven and Earth to keep you. Testing me to see if I was like Aria, who threw you to one side and never looked back.’

It was a harsh way to summarise Cortez’s last relationship. It ignored the lies and betrayal that had marked it, that had scarred her. But if it took work for Valance to dig deep and find words for the feelings rattling around inside, that meant sometimes she would tip it too far, and over-compensate.

Cortez was, at least – for all these scars were on show – never a particularly volatile person. She did scowl, though, looking out the window. Somewhere in the distance still lay the shattered remains of the Borg Diamond, left to lie eternal. ‘That’s not it,’ she mumbled at length.

‘Isn’t it?’ Valance pressed. ‘Because it feels like we separated, and then you turned me into the bad guy in your head, because you’re used to – afraid of – not being prioritised. And I think we both know that it’s a little more complicated than that.’

Cortez dropped her gaze, and kicked at the carpet. ‘You’d have been miserable on Nighthawk. And, uh, considering how it went, probably dead.’ She rubbed the back of her neck. ‘Look at you, ignoring my demand you unpack your own shit and instead unpacking mine.’

‘I had to unpack mine to realise what was and wasn’t my fault.’ Valance hesitated. ‘Then I nearly lost you. And I had to sit on my hands and wait for Dav to be a genius, and all I had to do was think about what I’d say, what I’d do, if I ever saw you again.’

‘I guess,’ mumbled Cortez, ‘that’s twice you’ve ridden in on a white horse to save my ass in, like, four months.’

‘You should consider your choices better, yes,’ said Valance, feeling a little light-headed in the way only Cortez could make her feel, forcing levity into every situation, however inappropriate, without downplaying sincerity. But that wasn’t how she, Valance, handled things. ‘But this was only a bit of what I thought I’d say if I saw you again.’

‘You mean you didn’t just imagine handing me my ass for blaming you for my issues?’ said Cortez wryly, lifting her eyes.

‘Leaving you,’ said Valance, straightening, ‘was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. So much of becoming a captain is about repackaging yourself, learning to handle yourself, because there’s so much you can’t show to others. I think the only reason I haven’t regressed horribly these last six months has been… you. How the years with you made me a better person. Made me my best self. And I wish, I wish like hell, you’d still been with me when I made that transition, so I could continue to be my best self even as I changed. Because I’m not. In so many ways, I’m back to the Karana Valance you met, who keeps everyone at bay and keeps everything inside.’

The corners of Cortez’s eyes creased. ‘Not in every way. I saw you at that dinner. You’ve got a bond with everyone; they trust you, they respect you, they like you…’

‘But it still made it clear what I’d lost. Because imagine what that would have been if it was us doing that dinner?’

Cortez winced. ‘I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t crossed my mind.’

‘I don’t know what the future will hold when we get back. Where your SCE Team will go. I don’t know what you want. But it’s not Jericho in charge of us now, it’s Rourke. And, more importantly…’ Valance’s breath caught. ‘I still love you. I didn’t drag my ship two hundred light-years to save Logan. I didn’t ask Dav to break the laws of physics for Thawn. I pushed and I demanded and I refused to back down, and I did it… for you.’

There was more, and it was all complicated. This wasn’t even directly asking for her back; she could open the door, and only Cortez could step through. If she did, there were still complications. Their careers. What Rourke would say. The unspoken truth that the compromises would have to be from Cortez; that Valance was Captain of Endeavour, and that was not going to change.

‘I hated,’ Cortez mumbled at length, ‘that the last time we really talked, I yelled at you. I hated the idea we were going to die out there and that was how it would end. But you still know it’s not… that easy.’ Valance’s chest tightened, and she realised that Cortez was not going to reciprocate verbalising her affection. Not in so many words. Then Cortez advanced, closing the distance between them. ‘But it sounds like we’ve got a few weeks of doing not much more than travel to clear it up.’

Valance found her gaze flickering down from Cortez’s eyes to her lips, and drew a deep, uncertain breath. ‘We -’

‘Bridge to Captain Valance.’ Shepherd’s voice came piping through with enough to cheer to make her truly throttle-worthy. ‘We’re ready to get underway.’

Valance closed her eyes, but Cortez laughed. ‘You can make it up to me,’ said Cortez, ‘by letting me join you on the bridge to see us off.’

‘If you insist,’ sighed Valance, gesturing for her to lead the way. The ship did need to get underway, after all. But then Cortez went to pass her, and on an impulse, she moved. Her hand came lightly to Cortez’s arm, gentle enough to be brushed off, firm enough to stop her. Their eyes met, and it was only the briefest moment of hesitation passing between them, a silent question, a silent affirmation. Then Valance pulled Cortez to her and kissed her.

Despite the silent question, Cortez was tense for a moment, startled. Then her hands snaked around Valance’s neck, the embrace greedy, needy; guilty and desperate. Even when they broke apart, chests heaving for air, Cortez stayed close, eyes shut. ‘Aw, hell,’ she breathed against her lips. ‘I guess “I stranded everyone at the ass end of space to save you” was the right words I was looking for.’

Valance felt her lips split into a wide smile, enough to make her cheeks ache with how uncommon it felt, however right it was. ‘And I yelled at you for making your issues my problem. Don’t forget that.’

‘Oh yeah. You charmer.’ Cortez grinned impishly and kissed the tip of her nose in a move so intentionally cutesy it was infuriating. ‘We better get to the bridge. But also, we’re havin’ dinner later. I’m not letting you sweep me off my feet without actual conversations.’

‘I might have a lot of working dinners…’

‘Then it’s just as well I’m a goddamn engineer who can help you work and fix your life. C’mon. Let’s scram.’

Valance was glad she had several decades’ practice in perfecting her masks and demeanour when she stepped onto the bridge with Cortez as if it was the most normal thing in the world for the captain and SCE leader to arrive together. ‘What’s our status, Shep?’

Surrendering the centre chair, Shepherd gestured to it with a demonstrative wave of the hand and stepped back. ‘All systems are operational, Cap. Restoration of the main deflector is complete. All scans of the Diamond’s wreckage have been conducted; we’ll have some great data to bring back without risking our necks. Oh, and the away teams have been forced off-duty by Doctor Winters at last.’ She gave Cortez a pointed look. Cortez just gave a thumbs-up back.

Valance looked towards Comms. ‘Kally, is our message back to Gateway gone?’

‘It’ll get there ahead of us, Captain,’ Kally confirmed. ‘But not necessarily by much.’

‘Not if we hot-foot it at top speed,’ Shepherd pointed out.

‘About that…’ Valance set her hands on her hips and peered at the viewscreen. ‘We’re on the far side of old Romulan territory. We could race back at Warp 9.99. We could head to Klingon space, move through friendly terrain.’ She glanced back at her crew. ‘How do we feel about the pretty route?’

Shepherd squinted suspiciously. ‘The “pretty route?”’

‘Through old Romulan space. See what our sensors show us. And if it’s interesting… investigate.’ Valance shrugged. ‘Starfleet has never pushed this far out. Our entire mandate was to eventually go beyond the Midgard Sector, go to places Starfleet’s never been. See what happened to the far end of the Empire. See what was here all along. What do you think?’

Shep grinned. ‘I think hell yeah!’

‘Excellent.’ Valance eased into the central chair. ‘Ensign Fox, for the moment, set us on a course for the Midgard System. But, Mister Turak? Keep up our scans. Let’s see what’s out there.’

‘Course laid in, Captain,’ Fox confirmed moments later.

Valance glanced over her shoulder, unable to avoid Cortez’s quiet smirk. She steeled her own, because she was still the captain. She’d still had to remake herself. She still had to be someone else. But that was not, necessarily, the wrong person to be. She leaned back in her seat and gestured at the viewscreen. ‘Go.’