With her ship docked at starbase undergoing basic maintenance, Valance hadn’t expected to be woken in the middle of the night by an emergency summons. She still found herself marching in full uniform into the squadron’s StratOps at approximately 0400 hours, finding Rourke, Hale, and Shepherd all there already. They looked like they’d been equally disturbed, none of them in uniforms or formalwear. Shep was in sweats, yawning and swigging coffee, while Rourke had grabbed jeans and a thick, knitted jumper. Only Hale looked halfway professional in plain slacks and a simple blouse, but it was a far cry from her usual crisp presentation. Valance heard her uniform boots thudding against the deck, noted she was the last to arrive, and felt a little silly.

‘We’ve got a problem,’ said Rourke, voice a low rumble. If he felt she was tardy, he hadn’t shown it. ‘Faust’s reporting a Klingon strike force heading for the Republic border.’

Valance’s mouth was dry. ‘The KDF?’

‘Not sure,’ said Shep, leaning against the central comms and display panel. ‘Cal’s trying to patch us through now. And to Redemption.’

Moments later, the side door slid open for Harrian – in uniform, at least – to come in from the comms room. ‘We’re connected and secure to all three ships,’ he said. He looked tired, hair mussed, but advanced briskly to the control panel. A moment later, three shimmering holographic projections of the commanders of the Swiftsure, Redemption, and Ranger came to life above the panel. Above them, the strategic map for the Midgard Sector winked into existence.

Rourke folded his arms above his chest and looked up. ‘What do we have, Captain Faust?’

The image of Faust reached outside of the projection range and her hand came back with a PADD. ‘Long-range sensors have detected four ships heading for the border. All Klingon. At least one destroyer. Since the first report, we’ve confirmed they’re older models and have transponders for K’Var vessels.’

‘So it’s not the KDF at least,’ mused Shepherd. ‘That’s something.’

Valance looked at Rourke. ‘That sounds like a raiding force. They won’t be here for conquest, they’ll be here to test the Republic’s defences and make off with whatever they can.’

The image of Daragon frowned. ‘It’s a small force. It’s not enough to make me think they’ve given up on Feserell. They still have plenty of ships to threaten here.’

From this end, Faust did not appear to scowl directly at Daragon, instead glaring at nothing. ‘It’s a small force, but I assure you it is more than a match for the Swiftsure. The Republic is stretched thin and K’Var clearly seek to exploit this. We haven’t had the time to build up defensive infrastructure.’

Xhakaza’s projection straightened. ‘Ranger can proceed at top speed to reinforce.’

‘This will take more than an Intrepid.’

Valance drew a sharp breath. ‘I’ll cancel leave for my crew -’

‘Your crew’s scattered to the four winds,’ Rourke said, quiet but quick. ‘And you’re in the midst of essential maintenance. Endeavour would be lucky to be underway within forty-eight hours.’ He looked up at Daragon. ‘Captain, status of Feserell?’

‘Negotiations are ongoing, but they’re welcoming our presence so far,’ said Daragon. ‘There is a growing faction interested in the idea of becoming a protectorate.’

‘A growing faction who are interested,’ drawled Faust. ‘My, they’ll be part of the family in no time.’

‘Captain –’

‘Commodore.’ Faust cut over Daragon for her projection to look at Rourke. ‘The Redemption is the most tactically powerful ship in the squadron capable of deployment. I need them here. Protecting the people we’ve signed a treaty with.’

Shepherd sucked her teeth. ‘Between Ranger and Tempest…’

‘Tempest is on escort duty for the next relief run to Teros, and the last runabout patrol suggested the Three Crows are sniffing around these convoys,’ Rourke cut her off, jaw tight.

Valance could feel the situation shifting, like sand sliding underfoot. She turned to Hale. ‘We’ve already engaged with the people of Feserell about support. What are our commitments?’

Hale hesitated. ‘The longer Feserell prevaricates, the longer our continued involvement creates more difficulties with the Klingon Empire. That becomes us challenging the Khitomer Accords, not them, if we’re interfering with their interests in a neutral party.’

‘The House of K’Var are already coming for an ally and know we’re there,’ Valance pointed out. ‘How much more strained can it become?’

Hale gave her a slightly sharp glance. ‘Captain, you know full well there are moderate houses who see the former Star Empire as a ripe target, but consider leaving the Republic alone a suitable compromise with the Federation. If we step in against Imperial assaults on independent worlds, those moderate voices may either become less interested in that compromise, or will sound much less convincing.’

‘Why leave the Republic alone if attacking any Romulan world brings the ire and opposition of the Federation?’ Faust mused. ‘For what it’s worth, Commander Cortez says that if we could buy her an extra seventy-two hours, she could bring a significant amount of the defensive infrastructure online. Hasty reinforcements to run a delaying action against this strike force could have an exponential pay-off.’

Rourke lightly thumped the bottom of his fist on the side of the control panel in thoughtful frustration. ‘Captain Daragon, inform the people of Feserell that if and when they are attacked, they must send us a direct distress call if they are to receive aid. Take the Redemption to rendezvous with Captain Faust.’

‘Sir, I must protest –’

‘Our treaty commitments with the Republic come first.’

‘That is a raiding force,’ Daragon pressed. ‘They will attack and then they will leave. We expect a full occupying conquest of Feserell. The loss of life will be considerably higher.’

Rourke’s expression settled into a full scowl. ‘You have your orders. Captain Xhakaza, I’ll be dispatching a support wing of smallcraft from Gateway. Rendezvous with them and reinforce the Swiftsure; they can lend assistance with Commander Cortez’s operations.’ He looked over at Harrian. ‘I’ll want you taking that into the field, Cal.’

The tall Bajoran nodded. ‘Understood.’

Rourke’s eyes settled on the projected officers. ‘This is my decision. Lodge your protests if you wish. But we do not have the firepower to be everywhere at once. We’re going to help our allies.’ He gave a sharp nod before any of them could speak. ‘Stay safe out there.’

Valance barely waited for the projector to go dead before she said, ‘You should send me instead of Commander Harrian.’

Rourke was reading one of the screen displays, and didn’t move for a moment. Then he looked up at Hale, Shepherd, and Harrian, and said, ‘Thank you, that’ll be all.’

Jaw tight, Valance did now wait for them to leave, ignoring Shepherd’s apprehensive glance as she passed. ‘I’m not going to sit here and do nothing while we’re in a crisis,’ she said once the doors slid shut behind them.

Rourke straightened, brow furrowed. ‘How’ve you been sleeping, Captain?’

She heard him maintain rank. He’d always been the one to drop formality first, but despite the personal question, he was sticking to professionalism. That meant, she knew, he was preparing to shut her down if necessary.

It might have to be necessary.

‘I’m not sure how that’s pertinent, sir,’ she said.

‘Deneb to Frontier Day to the Borg to your long return journey to Qo’noS. That’s a long six months with no rest.’

‘I’m not sure my vacation’s anywhere near as important as sending someone with the support wing. Don’t you need Harrian here?’

‘If I do, I can send Commander Rhade with the support wing. This isn’t about your vacation, Captain, it’s about keeping you sharp. And you’re not sharp when you’re strung out, tired, and frustrated.’ Rourke shook his head. ‘You’re taking a break. A proper break, not this half-on, half-off nonsense I’ve indulged so far.’

‘I don’t -’

‘You can stay close by on the Twilight Isles for all I care, but you’re clocking off properly. That’s not a choice.’ He straightened. ‘The squadron was assembled to deal with the Midgard Sector’s challenges before Martok went missing. If the Klingon Empire is about to become an enemy, we’re not anywhere near ready. I can’t make something out of nothing, but I can get the best out of what I have. And right now, you’re not the best.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You’re tired, stressed, snappish, and…’ Rourke hesitated, then shook his head. ‘Complete a handover to Kharth and then take at least ninety-six hours of uninterrupted leave. Minimum. That’s an order, Captain.’

Valance ground her teeth. ‘We’re abandoning Feserell, and you want me to travel to a resort island?’

‘We’re helping our allies, the people who entered into an agreement with us, the people who should be our priority,’ Rourke snapped, clearly unhappy about the decision, clearly unhappy at being pushed. ‘And there’s no way this is the end of it, so when the other shoe inevitably drops, I want Endeavour at the forefront.’

‘What happened,’ she said quietly, ‘to the first day-saving being free?’

A muscle quivered in the corner of Rourke’s jaw. ‘That’ll be all, Captain. Handover to Kharth. Then you’re done.’

There was a coldness to his voice she’d never heard him turn on her before. Then again, she’d never pushed it this hard before. And for what?

Valance’s gaze dropped. ‘Yes, sir,’ she said, and turned, and left. Her booted footsteps on the deck felt no less clumsy on the way out.