The holographic map billowed above StratOps in a starry canopy, a kaleidoscope of not only the dots of each star, but the whirling maelstrom of colours of political territories, strategic priorities, emerging situations. For months – years – Rourke had seen this map display serene Federation control stretching far, hotspots either doused by the soothing blue or far from their borders. Or, at least, few in number.

‘Bloody Cardassians,’ he muttered.

‘Yeah,’ sighed Beckett. ‘They’ve got their work cut out for them on that border.’

‘But we’ve got our work cut out for us here.’ He was here to represent Starfleet, but he was still the squadron commander, still had regional responsibility over Midgard. A briefing with Nate Beckett, as Chief Intelligence Officer aboard Endeavour, theoretically helped keep him informed. It also gave him a headache.

Rourke rubbed his temples. ‘I think that’s enough of that situation. We have to make sure the Klingons come down from high alert. There’s no other real option.’

‘The last reports also came with some policy papers.’ Beckett looked apprehensive as he picked up another PADD. ‘Possible border defence plans.’

Rourke took the PADD warily, and rolled his eyes the moment he saw the names of the authors. ‘Here we go,’ he groaned, and shook his head at Beckett’s curious gaze. ‘Half of Command has spent the last twenty-five years planning for contingencies in case of Martok’s death. Now they think it’s time to deliver.’

‘These contingencies are all preparations for invasion.’

Rourke shrugged. ‘It’s the half of Command who think Martok is the only thing that’s stopped the Empire from turning on us once they recovered from the Dominion War.’

There was a pause as Beckett fidgeted with the StratOps controls. ‘Is he?’

‘Put aside the Mo’Kai, D’Ghor, Sovereignty for a moment,’ said Rourke in a softer voice. ‘We have decades of cooperation with the Empire under our belts. Shared resources, joint operations. Even the most aggressive political shift can’t disentangle us overnight. If they decide to come for us, it’ll cost them. If they decide to come for us, we’ll know it.’

Beckett shook his head. ‘I can’t believe Martok doesn’t seem to have a successor lined up.’

‘He’s not gone yet,’ Rourke pointed out. ‘Let’s not bury the man just because his ship’s transponder exploded or something.’ He wasn’t sure he believed it. But he also knew better than to borrow trouble before they knew just how bad it was.

They’d covered most of the salient briefing points, but Beckett was still looking uneasy. Rourke looked him up and down and said, ‘You’re settling into the job pretty good, Nate.’

A wince. ‘I never thought I’d end up here. Actively didn’t want to end up here.’

Rourke scoffed. ‘Don’t let your father’s job shut off opportunities for you. You’re sharp. You’re doing well. Hell, even Faust was singing your praises about the reports from Endeavour’s trip home.’

That didn’t seem to cheer him up. ‘I know I’ve got a lot to learn.’

‘And yet, you’re a million miles away from the fresh-faced ensign who came aboard Endeavour two years ago.’

A shrug. ‘It’s been a busy two years.’

That it has. Rourke put the report PADDs down. ‘Personally, as well as professionally. How’s Lieutenant Thawn?’

Beckett looked like he was considering rolling his eyes. ‘I don’t need a heart-to-heart, sir.’

‘You ran away with a girl on a mission of your dreams and you come back like the weight of the world’s on your shoulders? I reckon you do.’

‘Can’t it just be hard that the galaxy’s going to shit?’

‘Nah,’ said Rourke. ‘If you were happy, you’d be whistling through it.’

Beckett’s shoulders slumped with defeat. He took a moment to reply, running through shutting down the strategic map, locking down all of the StratOps system. Eventually, he said, ‘I want things to calm down so I know what normal is. With her. With – with us. Every crisis feels like a chance for her to kick big decisions down the road, and I know she’s good at that.’

‘Rosara Thawn never met an emotional problem she couldn’t procrastinate on. But she’s not alone in that,’ Rourke said gently. ‘Have you talked to her about this?’

‘Nothing to say, is there? She’s not done anything wrong. We’re still in a crisis.’

‘And when we’re not – and I swear, you get shore leave soon – what happens then?’ Beckett was silent, and Rourke tilted his head. ‘What do you want, then?’

This shrug was brusque, one-shouldered. ‘I don’t know,’ mumbled Beckett. ‘She’s the one who came running after me.’

‘Something you didn’t provoke or encourage at all.’ Rourke gave him a lopsided smirk. ‘I hear you. It’s hard to find your footing when things are changing. You can’t expect her to be sure when things are changing. So rather than being worried, take this time to figure out what you want. So when the time comes… you know what you’re asking of her.’

The grumpy expression didn’t fade. But Beckett did give a short, brusque nod. ‘Yeah. Okay. That makes sense. Thanks, sir.’

Lieutenant Athaka had fretted about living space when Rourke had first reported aboard, but it had only given him so much entertainment to draw the process out before he’d told him he could quarter with Ambassador Hale. That gave some small comfort to the experience of not returning to the captain’s quarters, but to the rooms Hale had lived in for a year. That gave some sense of normalcy.

She was in the VIP rooms when he walked in, sat at the coffee table with a slew of PADDs stretched out before her, stylus in hand. She glanced up with a wan, tired smile. ‘How was the briefing?’

‘Nothing fundamentally new,’ Rourke grumbled, unzipping his uniform jacket and going to join her at the sofa. ‘Just confirmation that the situation in the DMZ is so heavy that if it goes sideways here, we’re screwed.’

‘Nothing fundamentally new,’ Hale agreed. She put the PADD and stylus down and leaned back, reaching to run a fingertip along the jacket lapel. ‘You look tired. And restless. It’s a bad combination.’

He shrugged. ‘All I can do right now is wait.’

The ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. ‘You’re not enjoying being a flag officer who gets ferried around?’ But her voice was gentle, and her expression softened the moment the tease was done. ‘I imagine it’s very strange being back aboard.’

‘I don’t want to step on Valance’s toes. But she should have faced down those raptors from the start. Met strength with -’

‘You’re not in charge of this ship,’ she reminded him softly. ‘And you do trust her.’

‘I didn’t say I didn’t,’ he said defensively. ‘But I warned you of this. She second-guesses herself whenever she has to deal with Klingons.’

‘There are four warrants out for Daragon’s death since his days in the Kriosian resistance,’ Hale mused, ‘and you don’t trust Faust, and Xhakaza’s very young, and Valance is a daughter of a noble house. And you agreed to this. Don’t act like your own protege has been foisted on you.’

‘I have all the trust and respect for Karana Valance in the world. If you want an officer who’ll open doors to Klingon houses, it’s not her.’

‘Maybe. But it’s not you, either. Not any more.’ Hale bit her lip. ‘I need to ask something of you.’

His brow furrowed. ‘Anything.’

‘I need you to be ready to listen if I ask you to take a step back on Qo’noS.’

‘What?’

‘The House of K’Var are influential, and we don’t know how far Torkath’s blaming you for Dakor’s death goes, and if your presence is incendiary with the High Council, it might be best you stay out of the way.’

She’d spoken gently, but still Rourke was on his feet, indignant. ‘And what, play passenger for the entire rest of this mission?’

Hale didn’t rise to meet him, physically or in tone, staying leaning back on the sofa with a calm expression. ‘Matthew, when are we going to talk about you hating your job?’

Indignation was cut off by sheer confusion. ‘What?’

‘Alright, so hate might be a strong word,’ she accepted. ‘But you’ve been CO of Gateway for three months and every time something goes wrong, you’re miserable.’

‘Should I be happy when things go wrong?’

Now she stood, slow and with a hint of frustration that made it clear she thought he was being intractable. ‘Miserable, because you’re not in the thick of things. Because you have to sit at your desk and send people out to do the work, while you read reports and consider the big picture. You like getting your hands dirty.’

His shoulders slumped. ‘I’m a flag officer. That’s my job now.’

Her nose wrinkled as she tilted her head this way and that. ‘You’re a commodore. My father used to say that was just a captain with delusions of grandeur. In an era where Starfleet’s personnel situation is difficult at best. You’re not chained to your desk.’

‘I’m here, aren’t I?’ But the hint of frustration remained around her, and Rourke realised he was being defensive. He exhaled, trying to banish tension with it. He wasn’t sure that was successful, but his discussion with Beckett rang forth in his head. It would be too easy to say that now was not a time to think about it. His shoulders sank as he winced. ‘It wasn’t your first choice to have me along, was it?’

It was her turn to wince. ‘I’d hoped,’ Hale said carefully, ‘that having Valance and Endeavour would be enough to convince you to stay behind – or rather, convince you that you weren’t necessary.’

‘I’m not here to make the mission difficult. But I do know Klingons.’ He took a step forward and reached for her hands. ‘I’ll do what I can to help. Whether that’s give you backup, or staying out of the way if you need to play nice with the K’Var.’

‘Don’t get me wrong,’ Hale said softly. ‘Having you by my side as an officer who beat the absolute tar out of some of the last Klingons to pick a fight with Starfleet is absolutely an arrow in my quiver I’m prepared to call on.’

He grinned, unable to not be impressed, even charmed, at how good she was at recognising the assets of those around her, recognising how effective they could be at whatever task she had to achieve. She assessed and weighed people and decided where to apply them, and never dehumanised them in the process. ‘Would you know, I was coming down here being a bit pleased with myself for being all grown up and sensible, and you went and deflated that right away.’

‘Oh?’

He shook his head. ‘Just a chat with Nate. This young kid who doesn’t know what he’s got and doesn’t know what he wants. I came here all smug about how I’m not like that any more, only for you to put me soundly in my place.’ He squeezed her hands. ‘I like it. It reminds me what I actually have and want.’

Her expression flickered, and he gave her a moment, let her rally. They had taken their relationship slowly since coming to Gateway; made no secret of it but been sure to give each other their own space. That was for her benefit more than his, and every time he felt he was on the precipice of pushing too much, he did his best to leave doors open. Give her breathing room.

After a beat, she lifted her gaze back to meet his. ‘I was worried about you being here, because I know that if you have to deal with the House of K’Var – with Torkath – that’ll hurt. And I know it’ll hurt if you feel you’re benched because of that. I know you trust me. I know you’ll listen to me – even if you have a well-earned sulk about it first. I don’t enjoy the idea of hurting you to have to do my job. I didn’t enjoy it before, and I certainly like it less now.’

He had to smile. ‘We’ve not worked together like this for a while.’

‘Since Agarath.’

Rourke nodded. ‘A while ago. A lot’s changed since then.’ He glanced down at his jacket, at the commodore’s pips on the lapel. At the quarters around them, not his own, never his own, and yet, for now, his. At her, stood before him, always what he needed to make sense of a situation, a light leading the way he knew he still shouldn’t chase too hard. Not until she wanted to be fully caught.

He tightened his grip on her hands. Qo’noS would come soon, with all of its challenges. But for the moment, he had a breather. Rourke gave a small nod. ‘Good changes,’ he decided softly.