Alfheim, the third planet in the Midgard System and the beating heart of Federation settlement in the sector, still boasted vast stretches of untouched wilderness. They had hiked through thick woodlands with towering redwoods for two days, and only reached the mountain yesterday. Now, Valance reached down to help Airex up as they clambered to this latest ledge and, chests heaving, they turned to see the world spill out before them.

It had not taken long to reach higher than the trees. An emerald sea of woodland stretched out before them, rippled with light and shadow, bustling with pockets of life and expanses of serenity. But it was, all of it, far away. The whole world, far away.

‘Feel better?’ Airex asked, and had a swig of water from his metal canteen.

Valance closed her eyes for a beat and felt the metal bulkheads close in around her. When she opened them, there was nothing but the blue horizon. ‘Much.’

‘Much? Positively glowing progress.’

I’m done trying to fix you. The memory of Cortez’s parting words roiled in her chest. Valance didn’t know if they made her want to clamp down, banish all feeling so it might not hurt so much, or express herself out of sheer spite, as if Cortez would know she was being emotionally open and would come running back.

Valance had a swig of water to buy time. ‘It’s been a long few months. Not just the trip home. Frontier Day. The Lost Fleet.’

‘It has. I thought you could do with getting away for a bit.’

‘Maybe we’re both going soft,’ she scoffed.

But Airex’s smile was tighter, sadder. ‘I’m trying.’

She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry. I know you’ve been on this journey, reconciling with your past host, and I have… not been here.’

‘For most of the time, you’ve literally not been here,’ he pointed out with a shrug. ‘You’re not responsible for me.’

‘Aren’t friends supposed to be?’ He didn’t answer, and she fidgeted with her bottle cap. The sun continued to shine down, bright and searing this time of day, blazing in a bright blue sky. ‘Kharth is moving on.’

‘She should have done that years ago.’ He didn’t meet her eye as he stowed his water bottle.

Valance met that with a mixture of guilt for prying and relief at the signal that their conversation was at an end. She turned to the next cliff face. ‘So should we.’

‘Gateway Station to Captain Valance.’

She exchanged a frustrated glance with Airex at the chirrup from her combadge, and reached inside her jacket to pull it out. ‘Valance here.’

‘You should have buried that at the bottom of your bag,’ Airex muttered.

‘Sorry for interrupting your leave, Captain.’ Rhade sounded sincere, but then, he was always polite. ‘Commodore Rourke needs you back aboard immediately.’

Airex reached over to snatch the combadge from her fingertips. ‘Rourke knows that Greg mandated this break -’

‘All shore leave for the crew of Endeavour has been revoked. I’m sorry, Captain. He needs to see you. Stand by for transport.’

‘That better include me,’ muttered Airex. ‘I’m not hiking back alone.’

But Valance was scowling. ‘We’ve been trekking back through broken Romulan territory for weeks. People need a break. This better be important.’

The fact Rourke was waiting before the transporter pad when they rematerialised aboard Gateway was enough to stem her frustration with concern. That he at once turned to Airex and said, ‘Excuse us, Commander,’ before leading Valance away only made this more worrisome. They had been beamed to the pad adjacent to station Ops, which was also a bad sign, and Rourke led her without another word up to his office.

‘I’ll get straight to it, Karana,’ Rourke said, voice that low rumble which meant he had a lot on his mind. ‘Chancellor Martok’s disappeared.’

‘Disappeared.’ She hadn’t known what to expect. This wasn’t it. Although her mind at once flooded with possibilities and apprehensions, though, that still didn’t explain her sudden recall.

‘His ship was heading to Boreth. It never arrived.’ Rourke had wasted no time going to his low table by the office window, pulling out two cut glass tumblers and pouring them both a stiff drink without asking. ‘Imperial investigations have so far shown up nothing.’

Her fingertips tingled with a hint of numbness when she accepted the glass off him. ‘Is there suspicion of foul play?’

‘For certain.’

‘Mo’Kai?’

‘Could be.’ Rourke had a swig of whisky. ‘Councillor Koloth has reached out to the Federation. He’s long been one of the more reasonable members on the High Council.’

‘You mean pro-Federation.’

Rourke hesitated. ‘Yes. Koloth has asked for a new diplomatic delegation from the Federation. He wants us to stay involved, be a neutral party, maybe assist with the investigation. The Diplomatic Corps has decided to send Ambassador Hale.’

Clarity was not as welcome as Valance had thought it might be when her shore leave was threatened. ‘You want to send her on Endeavour.’ She winced. ‘Respectfully, sir, why not Redemption?’

He made a face. ‘We’re behind closed doors, Karana. You can say, “Matt, why the hell are you making a bone-headed choice like this instead of sending Daragon and letting my people rest?”’

‘I’m not sure I’d say that to anyone regardless of rank,’ the even-headed Valance pointed out.

‘First, it does have to be a capital ship. They need to be able to defend themselves, and they need to fly the flag. I’m not sending in Swiftsure or Ranger, or hopping over on the Tempest. Second, whoever stays here needs to be fully operational; we’re not done on Teros by far, or tracing the Rebirth, or rooting out this cult. Which Redemption has been taking point on, so it doesn’t make much sense to swap mission leads there. Third, this could be sticky. This is going to be complicated Klingon politics, maybe some Mo’Kai trickery, and competing Houses; I want a crew I know can handle it when things get weird. God love Daragon, but he might be a little bit too shiny Starfleet for this.’

Valance’s brow knotted. ‘Thank you,’ she said with just a hint of sarcasm.

Rourke ignored that. ‘Finally, Ambassador Hale asked for you.’

Her grip on her drink tightened. She had a sip so she could take a moment to steel her expression. ‘For my sterling service as a commander?’

‘Karana -’

‘Or because I’m a member of the House of A’trok?’

‘And you’ve served in the KDF on an exchange program,’ Rourke pointed out. ‘You’re a Starfleet officer with a good reputation in the Empire, and you have ties to political figures, which is something I can’t offer any more.’

She had to swallow a flash of anger, the argument that it wasn’t her fault Rourke had destroyed his relationships with the House of K’Var. But she was accustomed to eating her anger; had done so for decades, expected to do so if she was to be seen as just a good officer instead of The Klingon Officer. Until Klingons became the business of the day. Then that was what she had to be.

She drained her glass and set it down on Rourke’s desk none-too-gently. ‘My crew needs a break. They’ve been pushed to the brink between Frontier Day, the Borg, and the last two months of journeying back from the edge of the old empire. I can’t even guarantee a full senior staff; not everyone stayed in Midgard for shore leave.’

‘Your objection,’ said Rourke gently, ‘is noted. Perhaps I am being selfish, asking you to keep digging in deep, because maybe there will always be something else. Another insurmountable task you can’t turn away from. But for the last twenty-five years, the Klingon Empire has been held either in one piece or at bay from the rest of the galaxy by Martok’s will alone. In the upper echelons of Command, admirals have talked for years about what comes next. Will the Empire turn on itself? Will it turn on us?’ His gaze turned entreating. ‘I don’t know what we can do. But if there’s some way Starfleet can help, I know I want the crew who can survive the crucible with me.’

The flattering sense of need was almost enough for her to miss the other implication of Rourke’s words. Almost. ‘With you?’

Again, he winced. ‘I intend to have my flag on Endeavour for this mission. Ambassador Hale can represent the Federation, but someone with authority needs to speak on behalf of Starfleet.’ He opened his hands. ‘At best, Karana, the crew get to be bus drivers with very little to do. At worst, if we hit crunch time, everyone will be glad it’s this crew in the crunch.’

‘When this is over,’ said Valance, stepping away from his desk, ‘they get leave. Proper leave.’

Rourke gave a sad, crooked smile. ‘You really are settling into the big chair. Advocating for them.’

‘I advocated for them as XO.’

‘And now, as Captain, you have to look at the mission as well.’ He glanced her up and down. ‘How’re you doing?’

Valance swallowed. ‘It was a long few months. I wish everyone stopped acting like I’ve been through some personal hardship.’

‘I could sort of read between the lines on Cortez jumping with the SCE Team immediately to Teros.’

There was another flash of anger with him, this time more irrational. If it hadn’t been for him, and his politics, and his power-plays with Command, then Jericho would never have been sent to assume command of the squadron, and would never have separated her and Isa.

But he had. And she’d made enough choices of her own to ruin that relationship without blaming someone else. Perhaps a galactic catastrophe would be a better way to clear her head than climbing a mountain with Airex.

Valance shook her head. ‘I’m fine. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to go manage my crew. They were promised shore leave. I don’t like breaking that promise.’

‘Tell them to blame me,’ Rourke said as she turned away.

‘I can, but respectfully, sir…’ She glanced over her shoulder as she stood in the doorway. ‘You’re not their captain any more. I am. The buck stops with me, now.’