It was mid-afternoon and Valance had already received the first briefing paper from Rivera, outlining the content she wanted to cover in their initial interview. None of it was a surprise – background, upbringing, early career – but it was enough to niggle. They would surely discuss growing up on Cantelle Colony, her childhood split between there and the Empire, her time at the Academy.

There were too many occasions she didn’t want to think about. Too many people. Her parents. Friends. Cassia…

‘She’s late,’ grumped Kharth, setting a half-finished mug of tea on Valance’s desk. Spilt droplets ran down the side, threatening to leave a ring on the table surface.

‘That’s not like her,’ Valance agreed. ‘Something must be up. It’s Thawn. She’d rather die than forget to make us her priority.’

But when the young Betazoid arrived at the ready room two minutes later, they had nothing more than a crisp, polite apology. No further explanation. No frantic air.

‘Thank you for joining us, Lieutenant. At last.’ Valance couldn’t keep the sting from her voice, and it didn’t help that Thawn had no reaction to it.

‘Of course, Captain. You wanted to go over the maintenance review?’ Thawn took a few extra seconds to dig out the right file before she projected it between them.

Kharth pursed her lips. ‘That’s forty hours old, Lieutenant.’

‘Oh – sorry, Commander. This one.’ Thawn at last blinked, at last looked fretful, as she changed the file on the hovering holographic display.

Valance took a moment to read. ‘Where are we at with the coil maintenance? We’re going to need to be ahead of the curve on the cleaning and calibrating of the coils, as we’ll need to slot the stress testing in with Gateway’s schedule.’ She ignored the surprised look Kharth gave her. She’d been a pilot. She knew how systems worked.

And she’d lived with an engineer.

‘I, um, spoke with Hal – Commander Riggs…’ Again Thawn went to her PADD, rifling wildly through notes and messages.

‘Lieutenant, are you okay?’ pressed Kharth.

‘Of course, Commander…’

‘Then can you bring us properly up to speed?’ snapped Valance. ‘Or do we do this later?’

‘No! Right here. Yesterday evening. Confirmation of our coil testing with Gateway Engineering.’ Another message was flicked on the display by Thawn – not that they needed to see the actual exchange.

That did not ease the irritation in Valance’s chest. ‘Lieutenant, I wanted to discuss your time in post in Engineering at this meeting. I’m now a little concerned that it’s perhaps more moving parts than you’ve been accustomed to in Ops.’

‘No, Commander – Captain -’ Thawn flushed as old habits kicked in for her to incorrectly address the ship’s former XO. ‘I’m relishing the opportunity here in Engineering. I like the work.’

‘I want to be sure we’re not pushing you too far, too fast. Endeavour is a sophisticated ship with a large engineering department. This is a responsibility unlike anything you’ve had before.’

Thawn had gone quiet, biting her lip, very clearly cowed. It was the sort of reaction Valance had expected from her the moment she’d been late to the meeting, and it did not mollify her for this to come so far into a chain of screw-ups.

‘It is, Captain,’ she said quietly, not meeting her eye. ‘I want this. I can do this.’

Valance gave a heavy, irritable sigh. ‘I’ll reach out to Riggs. Make sure you get more support on this. We’ll have to see about what we do long-term.’

‘I… yes, Captain.’

‘That’ll be all.’

Valance didn’t watch Thawn go, at once reaching for her next PADD, reviewing her next meeting. She’d almost forgotten Kharth was there until her XO’s voice came, sharp and surprised.

‘What the hell was that?’

‘I know,’ mused Valance, not looking up. ‘It’s completely unlike her to -’

‘I mean you.’ When she looked up, Kharth was staring at her like she’d sprouted a second head. ‘Thawn’s flapping – about the things Thawn doesn’t flap about – and you bite off her head?’

Valance frowned. ‘Since when were you a defender of Thawn?’

‘I’m not, so that should mean something when I say you did a piss-poor job of managing your staff back there. Something’s wrong.’

‘Thawn is always a ticking time bomb for some personal problem or another. She’s probably had the falling out with Beckett.’ It was, in Valance’s head, the falling out, because it would be inevitable and it would be final. She simply couldn’t comprehend how the two of them would prove to be anything but a hormonal fling of desperation.

Kharth was on her feet, jabbing a finger at the door. ‘Thawn was great in the Empire. She probably saved us from getting blown up before the cavalry came. We weren’t worried about her doing the paperwork and project management, we were worried about how she’d be when we needed a technical miracle worker under fire. She delivered.’

‘And now she’s struggling with the paperwork and project management. That’s a problem.’

‘…are you taking any time off?’

Valance hesitated at the change in tone. ‘Some.’

‘Some?’

‘I’ll be on the station. I have to do that profile with the journalist, remember?’

‘Oh, Hale’s damned idea. I could take that off your plate, you know.’

Valance scoffed. ‘Yes, because that’s a good idea.’ The profile was meant to demonstrate Starfleet had their act together on a frontier the wider public needed to care about. It was hard enough selling that with a half-Klingon as the face of affairs. A Romulan of Kharth’s record and temperament wouldn’t go down better.

‘I don’t know what crawled up your ass and died.’ Kharth was scowling now, really scowling. She’d doubtless picked up on all the nuances of the general judgement. ‘But you’re acting out in ways that put me to shame.’

‘I don’t…’

‘Let me and Dav – and Logan, drag him in, too – handle more of the maintenance work and personnel reviews. We’re all still on the station or the surface. You need some time off.’

‘That’s not your choice -’

‘No, but I can make it Rourke’s.’ Kharth picked up a PADD Valance had been reviewing, the one that held the overall schedule for the ship’s downtime. ‘With all due respect, get gone. I’ll split these tasks off. You need to be off-duty for a good eighteen hours.’

Valance gave her a dubious look. ‘I’m not sure this is how the chain of command works, Kharth.’

‘I think this is the exact reason you picked me as your XO, Valance.’

Thawn had whimpered and curled up at the slightest opposition. Pushing back was only making Kharth angrier. And beneath Valance’s sudden short temper was an exhaustion deep enough that she didn’t want to pick a fight. Not a fair one, anyway.

‘Fine,’ she grumbled, standing. ‘I want a fair and equitable sharing of duties on my desk by 0900.’

‘Bite me,’ said Kharth.

That would have to do.

Her quarters – Rourke’s quarters – were dim and empty when she got in. She’d not done much decorating of the larger space she now enjoyed as captain, merely taking everything she’d brought from her XO’s rooms, from the Pathfinder, to these bigger quarters. It left the walls half-decorated, everything unfinished, with only a seasoning of personalisation. It wasn’t hers. It wasn’t home.

Where’s home ever been?

She was an hour into her reading – at her desk, going over more paperwork – before her console chirruped with an incoming message. The screen shone with the flag of the Klingon Empire, and Valance’s throat tightened before she saw the sigil beneath it: the House of A’trok. That replaced the tension with a different kind of knot, one which was not eased when she accepted the connection and saw the face on the screen.

‘Gov’taj.’

‘Karana!’ Her brother looked sat in his quarters on a Klingon warship – but for him, that would serve as much as an office as a sleeping space. ‘I have been trying to catch you.’

‘I’ve been busy.’ Valance rubbed her temples. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘That’s it? That’s the grateful greeting I get?’

‘I’ve thanked you for the save the other week.’ She forced a smile. ‘Do you need me to thank you again?’

‘No, but I thought the warmth might last a little longer.’ He smiled, but she could see the concern dancing in his eyes. ‘I assumed you might want an update. I’ve spoken with our grandfather.’

‘About Toral? And how he’s going to swear fealty to the new Chancellor because he doesn’t have a choice?’

Gov’taj frowned. ‘A’trok continues in his discussions with Koloth. They are not alone in their disapproval of that whelp’s rush to power. Those supporting Toral are loud, and so his hold on power appears absolute. Everyone else… must be quieter.’

‘How… un-Klingon.’

‘Our honour dictates that the Empire cannot fall to petty fighting. We cannot become the warlords of the galaxy. We have built too much since then. Foundations and bonds of blood and stone. That is what matters, far more than anyone’s distaste for a little… politics.’ Gov’taj’s frown remained. ‘You assumed the House would fall in with Toral?’

Valance hesitated. She wasn’t sure what she’d felt. She’d tried to not think about it. ‘I didn’t assume that opposition to him would solidify.’

‘Martok did not remain Chancellor for decades simply for being a war hero. There are many who believed in the sense of honour he gave the empire. Something we struggled with for a long time. Something many do not want to give up. Our grandfather is part of this. We’ve built something, Karana. We want to keep it.’

‘Alright.’ She resisted the urge to rub her eyes. It was all good news. A sign that the Klingon Empire would not fall under the iron grip of a warmonger like Toral. But she could feel Gov’s eyes on her, hopeful, expectant. He was not telling her as an officer, as someone with professional skin in the game. He was telling her like she was a part of it all.

She drew a deep breath. ‘How is it going?’

He talked. He talked about their grandfather, still going strong, taking a stand. He talked about the other Houses, the discussions, the negotiations. Trying to gauge who could be friend or foe. The burgeoning coalition of those who did not ascribe to Toral’s way. He talked a little about their father – there, at least, Gov’taj was more circumspect.

And when it was over, he said, ‘The bonds between our family and the Federation are not about to fall, you know.’

‘That’s good news,’ said Valance. ‘The House of A’trok has always been a good ally.’

‘And even if the worst happened,’ Gov’taj continued more carefully, ‘you are always a member of this House.’

Whether I want it or not.

Valance swallowed. ‘I appreciate you calling, Gov.’

‘I will… stay in touch.’ He knew something was wrong. But they did not know each other well enough for him to pry it out of her. ‘Stay safe.’

‘Qapla’.’

The screen died. Her brother vanished. And Karana Valance leaned back in her desk chair, her workstation in the rooms that were not yet hers, on the ship that was still only becoming hers, and felt the sheer emptiness as sharply as she might had there been nothing beyond her fingertips but the void.