Walking into the Sunny Side Diner ten minutes late meant Valance had to navigate the delicate path between not appearing rude, and not appearing as on the back foot as she felt. She settled for a brisk pace she felt was officious and headed for the booth at the far end of the diner.

‘I know I’m late; apologies.’ It was the best way to be polite without saying, ‘I’m sorry,’ to a journalist. She had not met Olivia Rivera before but recognised her from pictures: the long dark hair, the high cheekbones, the eyebrows that always seemed to add a hint of wryness to any expression.

That wryness remained as Rivera waved a dismissive hand and put the PADD she’d been reading to one side. ‘Oh, that’s not a problem, Captain; it’s given me more time to get intimately acquainted with the reactor fuel this place calls coffee. But let me guess – you’ve got an appointment after this you’ll have to leave for anyway?’

‘I have a briefing with the squadron senior staff,’ Valance said, a little hotly. ‘My work takes precedence over this.’

Rivera’s eyebrows stayed up. ‘I figured this would take more than one meeting, Captain.’

As if from nowhere, one of the diner’s waitstaff appeared at the table and set a steaming mug in front of Valance. ‘I’ll let you read over the menus for food, then I’ll be back!’ he chirped, not waiting for so much as thanks before he sashayed off.

Valance peered suspiciously at the mug. Coffee. Black. ‘This isn’t their filter.’

‘No, I’m thinking of saving some of this for my shuttle,’ mused Rivera, drinking deep from her own mug nevertheless. ‘I took the liberty of ordering you a raktajino ahead of time. I don’t know where they unearthed the beans from, though.’

Valance’s suspicion didn’t fade. ‘A raktajino.’

‘Don’t look at me like that, Captain. It’s literally my job to do my homework on stuff like what people drink before I drag them out for an interview.’

I didn’t think you were being creepy. I thought you were feeding the Klingon a Klingon drink as standard. Unfortunately for Valance’s bitterness, she did like raktajino. A sip confirmed she was indifferent to this raktajino, though.

‘Yeah,’ drawled Rivera, reading her expression. ‘We should have gone to Bean Me Up, huh.’

‘The coffee’s better there, but I’d like actual breakfast instead of a pastry the size of my fist.’ Valance tapped the display button on the table to bring up the projection of the menu, and punched in her order with little reading.

Rivera watched, amusement dancing in her eyes. ‘Do they know what avocado is here?’

‘Midgard isn’t a backwater -’

‘I mean this diner seems to think the stickiness on the table is a source of added nutrients and their idea of vegetables stops at a fried tomato,’ she drawled. ‘I’ve ridden on dropships with Reman commandos during the fall of the Star Empire; I’m not a Core Worlds girl who thinks Betazed is the fringe. I’m reading the diner, not the frontier.’

Valance observed Rivera steadily for a moment. Then swung the holographic menu around to her. ‘Do you want anything?’

Rivera gave a thin smirk. ‘I’m good. I ate first. But I admire this discipline on an athlete’s breakfast. You worked out before coming here?’

They had not formally begun, but Valance knew she was being pried for information – for, at least, more of a read on her as a person, even if it wasn’t material for publication. Although it came with the territory, the thought of even her most minor behaviours being monitored and assessed rankled.

But lying or misdirecting felt petty, so Valance just said, ‘Yes.’

Rivera wasn’t thwarted. ‘Let me guess: martial arts?’

‘Cardio this morning, actually. What do you do to keep up with Reman dropships?’

It was not the smoothest riposte, and still, Rivera gave a wicked grin. ‘I find sitting in them works. Once we land, all those triathlons come in handy.’ She settled back, expression sobering. ‘You’re wondering why you agreed to this.’

‘My commanding officer asked me to,’ Valance said, sipping her raktajino. It was suspiciously good for the Sunny Side Diner. ‘I’m wondering why you want to do this.’

‘Write a profile on an officer on the front line of some of the Federation’s biggest emerging situations? Present and past? Captain, if I’m right, you just briefed the Klingon High Council on the disappearance of Chancellor Martok -’

‘I suppose…’

‘Commanded Endeavour at the Battle of Farpoint and Pathfinder at the Battle of Izar, were in the middle of the Century Storm and the Velorum Sector. And Archanis,’ Rivera pressed on without missing a beat. ‘And now, with the Empire threatening the Republic, not to mention independent worlds along this frontier, you command one of Starfleet’s foremost ships that’ll doubtless be in the middle of the action. You’ve done stuff. You know stuff. But you’re also not shackled to a desk.’

Valance hesitated. ‘When you put it like that…’

‘Yeah, Captain.’ Rivera’s smile threatened to return. ‘You’re impressive.’

Despite herself, Valance flinched. ‘Flattery won’t get you better answers,’ she said, colder than she meant. ‘I’m here because if not me, you’ll target someone else. I won’t let my people be exposed to the judgement of the press.’

Rivera seemed to realise she’d misstepped, though clearly wasn’t sure how. ‘You’ve had bad experiences?’

‘I know that good news doesn’t get readers. Controversy gets readers. Are you going to successfully circulate articles about how wonderful and prepared Starfleet are for a potential new era of Klingon aggression?’

‘Are we wonderful and prepared for new Klingon aggression?’

Valance gave a hollow laugh. ‘I thought we hadn’t started yet.’

‘We haven’t. This meeting is to hammer out what the profile is and isn’t. What access I get. What access I don’t. And any of it can be rescinded if you’re uncomfortable. Believe it or not, Captain, I’m not here to screw you over. And if you think I am, I really can try to find someone else to write this about.’

The thought of Rivera writing a profile about Kharth was only marginally less horrifying than the thought of her writing a profile about Faust. Valance was saved from pivoting too ungracefully by the server returning with the platter of poached eggs on avocado toast, a messy pile he set before her with a flourish as if it were art.

‘Thank you,’ said Valance, courteous to buy herself time. Then she drank her coffee. By the time she’d paused to regard her food, Rivera’s words no longer hung between them so pointedly.

But still, the journalist pressed on. ‘I feel like we’re getting off on the wrong foot.’

You’re impressive. Valance shovelled in a mouthful of food so she didn’t have to reply at once. ‘What do you want out of this profile, Ms Rivera?’

‘There’s a lot of uncertainty in the galaxy.’ Rivera reached into her blazer and pulled out a stylus for her PADD, twirling it in her fingers. ‘People don’t really know what’s going on. Not out here. Romulans were our enemies, now they’re our friends; Klingons were our friends, now they’re maybe our enemies? Being in the dark makes people do stupid things. Like calling off an evacuation of a whole star system because we don’t like the people who’re gonna die very much. I want to write something which shows why we’re here. Why we should care.’

Valance stabbed an egg yolk with her fork and watched it ooze. At length, she said, ‘I don’t get how writing a profile of a Starfleet captain achieves that.’

A shrug. ‘Profiles help people connect better. They read about your life and work, they understand not just what you do – but why.’ Rivera sighed, leaning back. ‘I don’t normally say this because it makes people feel bad, but in this case… you’re not the message, Captain. You’re the medium.’

Valance wasn’t sure what to make of the idea that a concept Rivera normally found offended people should be used to reassure her. Or the fact that it worked. She yet again stalled for time by eating, before she said, ‘You’ve spent some time reporting from difficult places.’

‘I cut my teeth on the Romulan evacuation, and I was on Mars to cover the fleet when… Mars happened.’ A dismissive gesture with the stylus edited out any possible questions about that. Valance guessed Rivera was about her age, putting her in her early twenties, at the start of her career, in one of the greatest crises of the 24th century. ‘Then, yeah. Operation Gatecrasher. The Neutral Zone. I’ve been around.’

Her plate was empty. Valance reached for a napkin to wipe her lips. ‘Endeavour is in port. She needs maintenance and my crew needs shore leave. You don’t interrupt their leave – you don’t chase them for contributions.’

Rivera cocked her head. ‘It’s pretty standard to get some input from the people around the profile subject.’

‘There are people I’ve worked with on Gateway. People I’ve served alongside, people who’ve served under my command.’ Valance hesitated. ‘And not all my staff will be on leave the whole time. I’ll have them reach out to you to offer their time if they want to give it.’

Rivera looked unhappy but nodded. ‘You’ve got more terms.’

‘I’m not promising you access to Endeavour. We do this in meetings like this; interviews, whatever.’

‘It’s best if I get the chance to see you in the field -’

‘I don’t know what Endeavour will be assigned to do next, or when. So I’m not going to promise you can join us on our next mission.’

Rivera’s eyebrows hit her hairline. ‘Did I mention the Reman dropships? I’ve been embedded in worse places than a top-of-the-line Starfleet explorer.’

‘And only two weeks ago, my ship was dispatched with minimal notice and a skeleton crew to travel to Qo’noS and investigate the disappearance of Chancellor Martok. Duty comes at us fast.’

There was a pause. Then Rivera twirled the stylus in her fingers again and said, ‘Can I keep that one as a quote?’

Valance resisted the urge to roll her eyes. ‘Those are my terms. There’ll probably be more.’

‘Wow. You really do not want to make someone else put up with me.’

‘The truth, Ms Rivera, is that I’m not very interesting. You’ll likely end up disappointed. I want to create reasonable expectations.’

Rivera tapped the stylus on the table. Then she smiled, shrugged, and said, ‘Is that an agreement to do this, then?’

‘Maybe against my better judgement… yes.’ Valance pushed her empty plate away. ‘But we can’t start now. I have that staff meeting.’

‘Which I assume I don’t yet have access to.’

‘That isn’t my call. You can negotiate that kind of thing with Commodore Rourke.’

‘Oh, I will. After all, I do think you’re wrong, Captain.’ The smile widened. ‘I think this – and you – are going to be thoroughly interesting.’

Valance grumbled her way through the concluding small talk. She had more time than she’d let on before the meeting, but they’d got through the meat of the discussion and she wanted to be more prepared for anything further. Rivera would send her plans for their proper interviews, with some notice of topics they’d discuss so she could prepare notes and recollections, and hopefully, she could get this done in two or three meetings, before Endeavour even needed to leave port.

But it was, at least, a distraction while they were still at Gateway. While her work was lighter, and the ship needed her less, and she was theoretically supposed to have time off in between her duties to the squadron and double-checking the maintenance work. Time off, which just became time to brood. To reflect on the state of the galaxy. To reflect on her family, and what the state of the galaxy meant for them.

To reflect on the empty quarters she returned to at night, and the woman long gone who’d last told her she was impressive.