When Tycho called her up to his ready room at 0400 hours, even though she knew both of them kept their schedules to standard time, it was hard to be tired. A lack of sleep was nothing compared to a middle-of-the-night crisis.

‘What is it?’ Valance asked when she walked in, nevertheless rubbing sleep out of an eye. ‘Did the Elkari come to an agreement with the Republic?’

Tycho wasn’t in uniform, dressed in sweats and a t-shirt with some racing team’s logo faded across the front. He handed her a coffee before he said anything. ‘We’re leaving. Underspace is closed.’

‘Closed…’

‘Collapsed. Apertures gone. Network gone. Full briefing’s here.’ A PADD was shoved into her other hand. ‘But there’s good news. Your ship’s back.’

Valance stared at him. Then the PADD. Then the coffee. She had a quick slug. ‘What?’

‘Seems the Liberty and Sirius found Endeavour. Brought her back in the nick of time.’ Tycho’s smile at that was muted, and she understood as he moved into a brief explanation of what had happened with Underspace, the intervention of the Cardassians.

‘…and without Underspace…’ He shrugged. ‘Elkari aren’t signing up to the Republic any time soon.’

This was all a lot. But Valance had always been good under this kind of stress. ‘They’ve lost their bargaining chip and have gone right back to distrusting everyone.’

‘For all they know, we’ve had something to do with Underspace. They’re not what you’d call a scientifically advanced people; they barely know how to run all the tech the Empire left behind.’

‘So we go from nearly bringing two more worlds into the Romulan Republic, shoring up their border, and building more commitments between them and the Federation, to… at best, nothing, at worst, poorer relations.’ Valance’s nostrils flared. ‘Hell.’

‘Right? We’re ordered to hi-tail it back to Gateway. Get you back to your ship. Get me some new supplies.’ Tycho’s gaze softened. ‘Hey. Once the dust settles, maybe the Elkari remember we reached out to them. Maybe some good comes of this.’

She gave him a level look. ‘Or they remember we threatened to hang them out to dry for the Klingons. And have demonstrated we’re very prepared to do that to independent worlds.’

Tycho shrugged. ‘Probably not Rho Detara. Too close to our borders.’ But he sighed at her expression. ‘I’m not the bad guy, Valance. I didn’t come at you, or anything. You know I’m right, or at least, I’m not entirely wrong. I liked working with you. I thought we made a great team.’

Valance’s eyes narrowed. ‘You and I have a fundamental disagreement on how to pursue Federation interests.’

‘I don’t think we do. I think you just push diplomacy longer than I do. And when you’re around doing that, I can afford to be sharper.’ He turned back to her, shoulders straightening. ‘I don’t think I’m always right. I know the galaxy’s a big old complicated place. I don’t think I’ll always agree with you – but I know we want the same thing. Let’s keep working together.’

She was accustomed to Starfleet hawks treating her like she was a naive fool. That, Valance realised, had coloured her impression of Tycho, made her wonder if he was quietly looking down on her. After years of pushing against various preconceptions of her – a naive advocate of the old ways of Starfleet, or a Klingon whose judgement would be easily clouded – she knew it made her quick to be defensive.

But when Gus Tycho stuck his hand out, she shook it.

They were back at Gateway days later, taking the trip at maximum warp. It was unknown how much chaos the rise and fall of Underspace would bring, and the squadron had to be ready, with all hands gathering to prepare for what would come next.

The Tempest was small enough to berth inside the station, docking in the bay to take on resupply and, perhaps, adjust her personnel if Tycho decided he didn’t need so many scientists. She disembarked at the airlock, entering the waiting lounge, her mind already filled with thoughts of her ship and crew. Endeavour had been nowhere in sight, likely docked in the lower bay. She’d read the full reports of what they had been through, and the notion of her crew enduring that without her made her teeth itch.

So Valance was not particularly thrilled when Rivera, disembarking at the same time, turned to her and said, ‘Hey, so, do we talk?’

‘What?’ The lounge connected not only to the Tempest’s airlock, but berths for other, smaller transport ships. All around them, new arrivals to the station and those there to greet them bustled about, giving the conversation the air of public privacy, overlooked in a crowd, that she never trusted.

Rivera gave her a suspicious look. ‘You went pretty comms silent on me for the trip.’

‘We’ve talked. We’ve shared quarters.’ A bed.

‘Okay.’ Rivera gave a short sigh. ‘You’ve got a lot going on. I was trying to not push it. But now we’re here, back at Gateway. I go back to being the local correspondent and some moonlighting for a few periodicals. You go back to your ship. We may or may not cross paths as much as before. Really depends on what our work has to say. The article on you should be out soon, but either way, you’re not actually a conflict of interest for me any more…’ She circled her hands around each other, like this was leading to something she expected Valance to pick up on.

‘Oh. Wait. You want to talk about us now?’

Rivera rolled her eyes. ‘Really are married to the job, huh. No, Karana. I am saying I want to talk about this, though, and I wanted to tell you that before you disappear into your job. Do I have to go through your yeoman again to book your time?’

Valance flushed. ‘I – no. No, I would like a conversation. You’re right, I have a lot pressing on me right now. Thank you for… giving me space?’ Rivera’s behaviour the last few days made a lot more sense, the lack of emotional engagement but physical presence. It helped them both blow off steam and, if the last weeks turned out to be all there ever was between them, it made the most of the time without putting it under any pressure.

She got a wry smile for her trouble, and Rivera reached out to squeeze her arm. ‘You are a tall tree of very impressive uselessness,’ the journalist surmised. ‘You have forty-eight hours to reach out, or I’m chasing you, girl.’

Rivera went to turn away, but on an impulse, Valance grabbed her hand. ‘What if I chase? Dinner. Tomorrow night. Somewhere on the station.’

Rivera’s eyes fluttered, clearly taken off guard at such a swift response. Then she smirked. ‘It’s a date.’

The tension that had taken root in Valance’s chest the moment she’d seen the alarm on the shuttle Tristan weeks ago finally, finally began to loosen. She let Rivera go, straightening and feeling taller for it, back in control, back on the station, back so she could get to her ship.

And turned to the exit to see a party had arrived to receive her, and that stood next to Kharth, who looked like she was quietly hoping the deck plating might open up and consume her, was Cortez.

A beat passed. Then Cortez opened her arms like she was about to do a magic trick. ‘You’re not dead!’

Her grin was a rictus, and Valance could see the tension in her eyes. Rather than acknowledge it, she gave her own grimace of a smile. ‘I’m… not. I hear you found Endeavour.’

‘Yup. Yup, I did that. Followed the trail through Underspace.’ Cortez swept her hand in a vague imitation of a ship’s journey, and added an unnecessary whoosh noise. ‘I’m like a bloodhound. And you’re not dead.’

Valance worked her jaw. ‘Good job, Commander. The hunting, I mean. Not the observation.’

‘Yup. Well.’ Cortez clicked her fingers, the manic energy in danger of over-spilling. ‘I was on my way to – I had a thing. Sae’s the one you gotta debrief. Or she’s gotta debrief you? I don’t know, I don’t do ship stuff any more, anyway, glad you’re not dead, bye.’

Kharth was staring at the ceiling plating as Cortez babbled her way to an exit. Around them, the passengers off the various transports had more or less finished disembarking, leaving the lounge much quieter. Through the huge windows behind Valance, they could see the interior of the docking bay, where the Tempest was nestled next to the Defiant-class USS Independence and other, smaller ships on official Starfleet business.

‘That,’ said Kharth after a beat, ‘was the worst “welcome back from the dead” I’ve ever heard.’

Valance cleared her throat. ‘It was not how I’d thought such a reunion might go.’

‘But you’re not dead.’ Kharth was still not quite looking at her.

‘I’m not. I was lucky.’ Valance paused. ‘I was forwarded your full report. It looks like you held everything together -’

The reunion with Cortez had been unexpected. But nothing in the galaxy could have prepared her for Kharth taking two quick steps forward to pull her into a tight, tense, almost angry hug.

‘You bastard,’ Kharth hissed. As swiftly as she’d grabbed her, she released her, ending the embrace with a shove. ‘Don’t do that to me!’

Valance was too surprised to not rock back at the impact. But as she steadied herself, her lips twisted. ‘It’s good to see you, too, Kharth.’

‘No, I mean it! Son of a bitch! You die on me and I get hunted by the Hirogen? I had to deal with Thawn!’

‘It’s… unclear which you consider worse.’

‘Hunted! By Hirogen!’ Kharth threw her hands up for emphasis.

‘While you held the crew together,’ said Valance in a lower voice. It was not that she didn’t appreciate the unusually affectionate outburst, but she still preferred to not draw quite so much attention in a public space. ‘Patched the ship up. Stayed one step ahead of the enemy. Made contact with, and protected, a whole new species. And gathered vast data on a phenomenon we’ve never seen before; apparently the implications for our understanding of protostars is… quite significant.’

Kharth hesitated. ‘…Airex did that last bit.’

‘I gathered.’ The corners of Valance’s lips curled. ‘You did a good job, Kharth. You brought them home.’

When Kharth’s shoulders slumped, it was like she was a puppet whose strings had been cut, if those strings were all of the tensions and terrors that had kept her operating the last few weeks. She scrubbed her face with her hand. ‘It sounds stupid, but I took this job for you. To back you up. To call you out when you’re pig-headed, to provide some balance. It didn’t quite – I’m not sure I appreciated I was actually next in line for command.’

‘All of those are an important part of being XO, yes. But I wouldn’t have asked you to back me up if I thought you couldn’t do it.’ Valance paused. ‘This would not have been my choice for your first taste of command.’

‘No, right? So you better not go anywhere again. I’m in no rush for a second taste.’

‘Deal.’ Valance hesitated. ‘I wasn’t going to mention this right away…’

‘But?’

‘There was paperwork on my return trip. A back-and-forth with Commodore Rourke.’ Valance straightened. ‘You’re being promoted. Congratulations, Commander Kharth.’

Kharth looked, somehow, more beleaguered at that. ‘Shit,’ she hissed. ‘I’m really locked in, now, aren’t I.’

‘That’s… not how most people accept promotions.’

Kharth’s shoulders slumped again, but Valance thought she saw a hint of a smile, a flicker of pride. ‘Hell. I guess the crew’s still going to need me. Gotta keep you in line, after all.’

‘I am a known tyrant. Speaking of the crew, I’d like to actually see some of them again…’ Valance extended a hand, ushering her onward.

‘You’ll have to win back their affection,’ Kharth drawled as they wandered for the doors, back into the belly of Gateway and beyond, back to the ship. Their ship. ‘You know what crews are like. Fickle… disloyal…’