‘If they’re out here, if they’ve been out here, there’s no sign of them.’ Shepherd sounded uncharacteristically sober as her image on Rourke’s desk screen gave the report. The Alhabor, the Sirius’s attached Aquarius-class escort, had ventured some way beyond the Underspace aperture in search of the missing USS Endeavour. He’d taken the report in his quarters the moment the communication came in, hopeful at the start, but the results were not heartwarming.

Rourke scrubbed his face with his hands, elbows on the desk. ‘How much more of the sweep do you have left?’

Shepherd hesitated. ‘A few sectors.’

‘Then you better get to it. We’ve no sign of wreckage on the planet yet. Which means either they’re out there for you to find, or they went back in.’ He didn’t say, there’s nothing better for you to do, at Shepherd’s obvious apprehension.

‘Yes, sir,’ came the reluctant reply. ‘Any news on the Cardassians?’

‘Just that they’re still here,’ Rourke grunted. ‘We’re figuring our next step. Don’t worry about them. Let me know what you find. Sirius out.’

The screen went blank, and again he rubbed his temples. A moment later, there was a light knock on the door to his office.

‘I’m done,’ he called, and was unsurprised to see Hale when the door opened.

Her expression had been guarded, but fell when she saw his. ‘Nothing?’

‘No.’ Rourke stood, stacking PADDs so he had something to do with his hands. ‘Shep’s still got hunting to do, but I think that whatever destroyed the probe spooked them, and they left. Which means we’re wasting time here.’

Hale pursed her lips. ‘There’s no telling what the Liberty will find. They may need to double back for equipment or support – and you’re in a much better position to help them here than back in the Beta Quadrant.’

‘Great, I’m a fallback point.’

‘With eyes on a Cardassian expedition,’ she reminded him. ‘Is there any more news on that?’

‘Funnily enough, Kaled didn’t spout his entire plan to T’Falith over digestifs, making the entire dinner a waste of time,’ Rourke grumbled. ‘So, no, I have no more idea what they’re doing.’

‘Isn’t the best theory simply that they’re building up a network of subspace beacons to aid in navigation through Underspace? I know they’re being cagey, but is that so unusual for any foreign operation who perhaps don’t want Starfleet to steal their technology?’

‘It’s not unusual for Cardassians,’ Rourke sneered. ‘We don’t exactly need their technology, but for them to build some platform on last-gen tech and then posture as if it needs protecting would match their style.’

‘I still think there’s benefit to building continued relations with Kaled,’ said Hale, a little more tense at his intractability. ‘We’re far from anyone to give us orders. He doesn’t have to toe the party line so much here. Reminding everyone that we don’t have to be enemies when we’re this far from home is a good thing.’

Rourke grunted. ‘I’ll get right on that.’

‘And,’ she continued, now with a flash of frustration, ‘deuterium deposits in this planet provide an excellent economic prospect for the Midgard Sector. You know: the main reason you’ve justified bringing Sirius out here?’

He couldn’t help but glare. ‘I know why I’m here and what I’m doing.’

‘You know it, but you hate it. Has Riggs given much of an update about planetary prospecting?’

‘Some,’ grumbled Rourke. ‘It’s looking good. No sign of a crashed ship. Plenty of signs of deuterium.’

‘Which could make this a fuelling depot at the mouth of Underspace. Surely that’s significant strategically as well as economically? Surely that could make this a major launching point for deep-space exploration? You do care about these things, Matt.’

‘Don’t tell me what I care about,’ he snapped before he could stop himself.

Her expression steeled faster than he could rally, apologise, explain. ‘I understand,’ said Hale, in that cold voice he’d only heard her use when negotiators had screwed her around, ‘that you feel helpless. That not only have people you care about gone missing and you can’t help them, but your sense of identity is in turmoil since your reassignment. But I am really not here for you to take chunks out of me over this.’

He swallowed. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, sheepish like a child. ‘It’s not just that Endeavour’s missing. It’s that all I have to do right now is wait: not only for Shep, or the Liberty. Wait for Riggs to finish prospecting. Wait for the Cardassians to do something.’

Her expression shifted, and he could see her analysing. Considering. Then she gave a small nod. ‘Then I’ll let you get busy. That seems to be what you need,’ she said, and left.

There had been a moment, he knew, where she’d contemplated – maybe even thought of – advice that might benefit him. Emotional support that could guide him through this knot. And that, because he’d been a jerk, because he’d been spiky at her once already, she’d made the calculated decision to not reach out any further. It was no less than he deserved, a wise move from someone apprehensive that if she tried harder with him, he’d just swipe back again. But it did not help his mood.

The key advantage of his ready room over his personal office was, aside from proximity to the bridge, its suitability for meetings. With no desire to see anyone at all, Rourke only went up there to stomp off some frustration and make a relatively petulant display in front of Hale, though she’d impassively watched him walk out of the quarters and had clearly beaten him for a pointed exit.

Something in his chest eased a little when there was a knock at the ready room side door and Gault walked in, PADDs under his arm. His yeoman looked like he had something professional to say, but took in Rourke’s expression and raised his eyebrows.

‘That good, huh, Boss?’

‘I hate this desk,’ growled Rourke, despite having no reason to really complain about his incredibly comfortable office. ‘Why’d I take this promotion, Eli?’

‘Because the fleet leadership got scuppered on Frontier Day,’ said Gault without missing a beat, ‘and you’d just committed enough mutiny that nobody wanted you in starship command, but with enough responsibility that maybe you could make bad decisions on a bigger stage.’ He shrugged. ‘We live in interesting times.’

If it hadn’t been for Toral’s ascension to leading the Klingon Empire, Rourke knew he’d have probably ridden a desk for the rest of his career. Now, Starfleet had to be more on the front foot, denied the chance to sit back and lick its wounds as much as it would have liked after Frontier Day.

‘Right,’ Rourke grumbled, leaning on the desk. ‘You got something for me?’

‘Some official boring stuff. I was there for a chat between Rhade and Harrian, though. Your boy Cal’s being too good, too well-behaved.’

‘Oh?’

‘Rhade suggested shuttles and fighters sweeping more of the system. On the off-chance there’s some trace of Endeavour, or whoever blew up the probe, elsewhere. Planetary surfaces. Near the sun. Things we’re not actively scanning.’

‘That sounds…’ It sounded like busywork. Rourke wrinkled his nose. ‘What’d Harrian say?’

‘That it might upset the Cardassians.’

‘God’s sake, Cal.’ Rourke scratched his beard. ‘They’re paranoid bastards who think we’re spying on them anyway, just because we invited them to dinner.’

‘You did try to spy on them over dinner,’ Gault pointed out. ‘Not to defend Cardassians, but that’s absolutely what the plan was.’

‘Don’t you start.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s no way that all they’re doing is building a navigational beacon. I can feel it in my bones, Eli.’

Gault tilted his head this way and that. ‘Not how it works, Boss, is it?’

‘Eli-’

‘I don’t trust them. Suns know they’d burn the sky if it’d make their own lives a little bit more comfortable. They said they’d learnt their lesson after the Dominion, now they’ve had a fresh taste of power and here they are, fancying themselves the big kids on the streets again. But you are looking for an excuse to distrust them.’

‘When you put it like that, Eli, it sounds like I’m right not to trust them.’

Gault paused. ‘Just… make sure you’re distrusting them for the right reasons, hey?’

‘You mean, for our proven experience with them being untrustworthy bastards going uphill and downhill?’ Matt Rourke faced off against Eli Gault, both of them Dominion War veterans, neither of them having fully put the catastrophes of a quarter century behind them. ‘We’ve got a missing ship. They say they don’t know anything. Would they tell us even if they did?’

‘Maybe not,’ Gault admitted.

‘Have they given us any reason to be extended the benefit of the doubt?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘So I’m going to call in Rhade,’ said Rourke, arms folding across his chest, ‘and tell him that if he has so much of a sniff of an idea of how we might find out what happened to Endeavour, he should do it. Even if it pisses off the Cardies.’

There was a moment where Gault chewed this over. ‘Quite a lot of the smallcraft are helping Riggs on the planet right now.’

‘We can split the workload. Riggs needs the runabouts, really, doesn’t he. We can take the fighters, the smaller shuttles. Anything less obtrusive is less likely to set the Cardies off anyway.’

‘Or make them suspicious that we’re spying on them.’ Another pause. ‘Which we could, you know. Do.’

Rourke’s eyebrows went up. ‘Go on.’

‘Well, Harrian doesn’t want us deploying ships across the system in case it rattles them, right? In case they worry that we’re scanning their platform and their ship to figure out what they’re up to?’ Gault fidgeted with his sleeve. ‘We’re going out there for a different reason: to find some clue about our missing ship. But we could do both things.’

‘Sweep the system for clues,’ said Rourke quietly, ‘and scan the Edorasc and its surroundings whenever we get a chance.’

‘And reassure that prick Kaled that all we’re doing is looking for our people,’ said Gault, sounding firmer now, more confident with this smokescreen to excuse the paranoia of both of them. ‘If he wants to kick up a stink and moan when he’s being secretive.’

Rourke paused. Nodded. Then moved to the chair behind his desk. ‘Get Rhade in here.’