‘Reports are saying there are major movements from some of the Great Houses. Korath have withdrawn most of their fleets to their home territories.’ Rourke drummed his fingers on the side of his coffee mug as he sat across from Valance in the captain’s ready room.

They’d moved to the comfortable seating by the window without saying a word, neither of them ready for the strangeness of Rourke not being the one behind the desk. She was still the one facing the door, the one who’d replicated the drinks, the one who’d welcomed him in. She could not even enjoy the discomfort as a distraction from the politics; it cut far too deep for that.

‘Has anything been heard of Drex?’ she said. Martok’s son did not have the strongest reputation, politically or militarily, but he still, she thought, had to be a key player in the response to his father’s disappearance.

‘He’s on Qo’noS, according to Ambassador Hale’s sources,’ said Rourke. ‘Some members of the High Council have gone to ground in their home territories, but the majority of the councillors are there.’

‘We have to arrive before they start considering succession. I can’t believe that this is just an accident.’

Rourke grimaced. ‘Stranger things have happened.’

‘To the head of the Empire, the only man who’s kept them in check for a quarter-century?’ Valance shook her head. ‘No. Too many people profit from him being gone. And vanishing in a way that breeds uncertainty and denies his legacy a final story.’

‘You mean,’ said Rourke carefully, ‘the Mo’Kai.’

‘I wish I only meant them.’ She sighed. ‘There have been plenty of warriors defying Martok. Hardly any of them faced serious consequences for the foray into the collapsing Star Empire last year.’ Rourke flinched at that, and she tilted her head. ‘Is the House of K’Var at Qo’noS?’

‘I don’t know. I hope not. We don’t need the distraction.’

You mean, you don’t want to face them. Rourke had spent long years on the Klingon border, working alongside the KDF. In this time he’d forged a tight bond with Torkath, son of K’Var, building a stalwart alliance that had stretched across borders and lasted a decade and a half. Until the Klingon raids on the Velorum Sector, where Rourke had been forced to kill Torkath’s brother, Dakor. On hearing the news, Torkath had disavowed him.

‘We could do with more Houses we know we can rely on as allies,’ was all she said.

‘I’d hope your brother could help with that.’ Frowning still, Rourke stood, looking like he wanted to go to the window as he might have done when he was captain. Instead he prowled like a trapped animal, eyes sweeping over the bulkheads.

Valance tried to not grimace. ‘I don’t know what the House of A’trok will do. My grandfather is something of an opportunist.’

‘And yet your brother has been close with the Federation. Your father…’ Rourke’s voice trailed off.

‘My father had a dalliance with a human,’ said Valance flatly. ‘And he felt a sense of obligation – I can’t guarantee kinship – with his half-breed daughter. That doesn’t say anything about his politics.’

Rourke was silent for a moment, and she wondered if he was trying to press the point in a more polite way. Then he dragged his eyes around the bulkheads and said, thoughtfully, ‘You should redecorate in here.’

She hesitated. ‘Is that a priority?’

‘This isn’t just your private meeting room. This represents you. Anyone who comes in should know not only that you’re the commander of the ship, but that this is your space. The captain and the ship are one.’

Valance gave a sharp shrug. ‘I left Captain MacCallister’s painting up.’

‘But nothing of yours -’

‘Sir, I don’t need you to tell me how to run this ship.’ She stood with more impetus than intended, which had him turn to her with sharp surprise.

Rourke worked his jaw. ‘Sorry. That was meant to be more… sorry.’

‘More what? More helpful?’

His shoulders sank. ‘You didn’t ask for my help. I overstepped.’

‘I know that if I were you, I’d turn that into a drinks cabinet.’ She pointed at the cabinet by the wall. ‘Captain MacCallister would keep a tea set in it. The Paris’s captain laid out pastries before every meeting. But I’m not the hostly type.’

‘You’ll figure out your way,’ Rourke said, softer.

Valance still scowled, her indignation fading and leaving in its wake the insecurity that had made her so quick to anger. ‘I know you sent us Shep because you thought Kharth and I needed softer edges.’

Rourke’s frown remained. ‘I sent you Shep for more front-line command experience. If I thought you and Kharth are too mean, then what am I?’

‘Much, much better at managing people.’

It looked like he might give that another rebuttal, but the comm system chirruped and Airex’s voice interrupted them. ‘Captain Valance to the bridge.’

It was always a tense summoning. She could be out the door in seconds, so there was no need for the officer of the watch to make a judgement call if something serious was happening. But, likewise, it could have been something innocuous.

‘Klingon ships decloaking off our bow, Captain,’ Airex was reporting, crisp and already surrendering the centre chair to assume his post at Science. ‘I think they’ve been trailing us for some time. Two Mat’Ha-class destroyers.’

Valance stalked to the centre chair, Rourke in her wake. ‘Hail them.’

‘There’s been no response, Captain,’ replied a fraught Kally at Comms.

‘They’ve raised shields and have weapons charged,’ said Logan at Tactical. ‘Captain, their transponders identify them as part of the Mo’Kai fleet.’

Valance stopped dead in the centre of the bridge, turning to the viewscreen. She tapped her combadge. ‘Red alert. All hands to battle stations.’

The klaxon went, the lights changed, and as she eased herself into the command chair, Rourke discreetly sat down to her left. She gave him the quickest of glances, but his expression was level, neutral. If he had any thoughts different to her own, he wasn’t sharing them.

‘Shields are raised and weapons charged, Captain,’ said Logan. ‘The raptors are maintaining position.’

‘Hail them again,’ Valance said, and grimaced at Kally’s gentle shake of the head. ‘Ensign Fox – plot us a route around them. Slow. Keep our dorsal hull facing them so we can bring phasers to bear if necessary. Keep your nerve, people. If they wanted to ambush us, they would have.’

Endeavour moved, twisting and gliding to come around the silent, stalwart raptors. The two Klingon ships pivoted to keep the Starfleet ship in their firing arc, but otherwise didn’t move.

Valance’s grimace remained. ‘And now we slip past them only to expose our aft.’ They weren’t defenceless at the rear. But they were less defensible. Behind her, the turbolift doors slid open and Kharth stormed out, taking in the scene with a few sharp looks. In her wake stepped Hale, more cautious, staying near the door.

The XO had barely sat down before Airex barked, ‘Captain, another ship decloaking ahead!’

‘On screen!’

Valance’s heart leapt to her throat as the space before them shimmered, and the hulking mass of a Bortasqu’-class dreadnought decloaked and came rippling into existence, glorious like a great predator bearing down on them.

‘Oh, shit,’ hissed Kharth. ‘That’s bigger than I thought.’

And there they were, trapped between them and a pair of raptors. Valance hesitated, and was only moderately reassured by how Rourke didn’t feel like he was biting back his own orders. He had no better clue than us.

But Kally spoke first. ‘Dreadnought is hailing us, Captain!’

‘Put them through,’ said Valance, getting to her feet and trying to smother any sign of apprehension. She couldn’t show it to her crew and she couldn’t show it to the Mo’Kai.

The viewscreen changed for the formidable bridge of the dreadnought. Valance recognised the Klingon woman stood before them, but they had never met. Her face had been plastered over news reports, intelligence reports, political reports, for the past ten years.

‘USS Endeavour, my name is Lady L’kor of the House of Mo’Kai.’ The most notorious woman in the Empire gave a smile that was all sweetness and all teeth. ‘You travel our space unaccompanied. That is perhaps unwise during these dangerous times for the Empire.’

Valance swallowed. ‘Lady L’kor. I’m Captain Valance.’ She could almost feel Hale’s eyes on her, and shifted her weight. ‘Daughter of Jodmang, of the -’

‘House of A’trok – I know who you are, Captain. Our reputations precede us both. I’ve read many reports on your feats against those some would call dissidents against the Empire.’

Some? Valance didn’t let her expression change. ‘We head for Qo’noS, under the invitation of Lord Koloth.’

‘I don’t know from where Lord Koloth draws the authority to invite Starfleet. He may fancy himself the right hand of Martok, but Martok is dead.’

Valance’s jaw twitched. ‘Dead? Is that confirmed?’

L’kor’s expression flickered with frustration. ‘Do you ask as a Starfleet officer who trusts nothing except what your sensors tell you? Or a stout warrior who would demand we complete the Sonchi ceremony even if our chancellor had been blasted into a thousand pieces in an accident?’

‘We’ve been invited to assist in exactly -’

But Valance was cut off by Hale stepping in, the ambassador’s glance apologetic. ‘We ask because we know better than to trust in mere rumour for something so important, Lady L’kor. I know you would not let any such report go unconfirmed before you trusted it.’ At L’kor’s sharp look, she inclined her head. ‘Ambassador Hale. Lord Koloth asked for me directly.’

‘Did he, now. He is very willing to have the Federation interfere in what ought be a private affair. There are many who would take offence.’ Valance braced as L’kor looked to one side, making a gesture to a bridge officer off-screen. Then she looked back. ‘We will escort you to Qo’noS, Endeavour. Make sure you do not travel unaccompanied.’

‘We are most grateful,’ said Hale, pressing her hands together.

‘Indeed, Lady L’kor,’ said Valance, trying to not speak through gritted teeth. ‘We have no desire for trouble.’

‘You are Starfleet. You don’t find trouble. You bring it. But I shan’t have any mishaps befalling you. After all.’ L’kor gave another sharp smile. ‘They would blame me. Follow in our wake.’

The viewscreen went dead, and Hale turned to Valance, dropping her voice. ‘I apologise for stepping in, Captain. I thought it best my presence as an ambassador not be a surprise.’

You stepped in because I wasn’t being Klingon enough. Valance didn’t know if she was bitter or not. ‘We made it through, Ambassador,’ she said, letting her tone imply she was past the issue. She turned to her bridge crew. ‘Stand down red alert. Bring us into formation with the Mo’Kai ships. Ensign Kallavasu?’

‘I’ll synchronise our -’

‘Yes, but not that.’ Valance raised a finger. ‘Send word to Command that we are approaching Qo’noS under escort from Lady L’kor.’

Kharth snorted. ‘I love a plan where our contingency is, “We’ll die, but at least we’ll snitch first.’”

‘If she wanted to ambush us, she would have.’ But L’kor and the Mo’Kai were still the number one suspect for any mishap that could have befallen Martok. Perhaps that was why L’kor was here; if she was innocent, then perhaps there was a different enemy abroad, and in bringing in Starfleet she could see her name cleared.

It was still impossible to know the way. To know for sure if L’kor was leading her to safety or a trap, or if there would even be safety on Qo’noS. She could still feel the lingering pressure from Hale’s pointed look when she had not stood Klingon enough on the bridge, still feel Kharth’s burning dissatisfaction at extending even an iota of trust. If there was a middle way, then surely it would please nobody – perhaps least of all her.

But the last person she wanted to look at, as Endeavour swung into business for their last leg to Qo’noS, was Commodore Rourke, and run the risk his eyes might show a disagreement with her choices she had no idea how to navigate.