‘…and he cared more about getting some old friend off the hook than I’ve seen him care about anything to do with the people living in this sector!’ Kharth knew she was in danger of wearing a hole in Endeavour’s deck as she stalked back and forth in her office, but the idea of calming down was intolerable.

Airex pursed his lips as he sat and watched her. She knew he was considering what he could say that might staunch her anger, and knew they both knew no such words existed. At length, he drew an uncertain breath. ‘Maybe we talk to him.’

‘Maybe.’ But she cast him a suspicious look. ‘I didn’t think you were his favourite person.’

‘Things change.’ His expression creased. ‘I’m sorry, but I really can’t explain the reasoning on that one. Truly. Starfleet regulations.’

Teros. But however much she believed him, a part of her balled up inside at the prospect of him keeping secrets, writhed away like singed paper curling from flame. He owed her nothing right now, they were nothing right now, but the idea of trusting him, of taking a leap of faith when she knew he was hiding something he’d never reveal, didn’t just pain her. It exhausted her.

Exhaustion was never a good sign when it came to trust. ‘You only came here to talk about sharing power allocations on the sensor array.’

Airex hesitated, then nodded. ‘Commander Far said we’d do better if we came to an agreement.’

‘Do you ever miss Thawn being a harsh taskmistress and making the decision anyway, and to hell with our feelings?’

‘I think Thawn’s an enormous loss to this ship, but Far’s very good. Perhaps we can have an Operations Manager we don’t resent half the time.’

‘I’ll resent her,’ Kharth grumbled. ‘Just for being so damn chirpy.’ But they’d gotten off her anger and down to business, and she didn’t know how much she could keep venting at him. Work kept them in her office for another half-hour, and by the time he left, there was a blinking light on her desk console with an incoming message.

It was from Sadek. My quarters. 2000 hours. Poker.

They had not had a staff poker game since Connor Drake’s death. But many of the other players were gone, too – Logan, Cortez. The doctor would have to pad out the numbers, and with a sigh, Kharth considered who else might be involved. Reluctantly, she concluded that Sadek was probably going to drag in the newer staff members and make them feel like they belonged. Maybe even Shepherd.

Even though they were friends, Kharth was not in much of a mood to be friendly with Shepherd, not right then. So she dragged out the last hours of work, procrastinated on the invitation, and didn’t make it to Sadek’s quarters until 2015.

The doctor still smiled when she opened the door. ‘I was wondering if you’d grace us with your presence,’ she drawled. ‘Come on in.’

‘So who’ve we got?’ Kharth grumbled, stepping in. ‘Just Elsa, or did you drag Whitaker and Far in -’

‘No,’ boomed the voice of Matt Rourke, sat at the head of the extendable table Sadek had opened in the middle of her quarters for him and her other four guests. ‘No, it’s a different crowd tonight.’

Kharth stopped as the doors slid shut behind her, and stared at the gathering. Eli Gault, Rusander Brennos, John Rosewood, and Harrian Cal looked back. In the silence, Sadek slid next to her and theatre-whispered, ‘I’ll get you a drink.’

Rourke extended a hand to the seventh seat at the table. ‘You should sit down, Saeihr.’

Kharth narrowed her eyes as she approached and pulled up a seat. ‘You never call me that. And this isn’t a poker game.’

Eli Gault, in a Starfleet uniform, red-shouldered with a senior chief petty officer’s insignia, gave a short bark of laughter. ‘I see why she’s your security chief, Matty.’

But Rourke shot him a sharp glance, and the Risian fell silent. Rourke sighed and looked back at her. ‘You’re only a little wrong, because I’ve definitely been playing a game of poker. Only it’s ended up being against you as well. Which weren’t my intention.’

She planted her hands on the table as Sadek thoughtfully placed a bottle of beer beside her and withdrew to the final seat. ‘Explain,’ said Kharth. ‘Now. Why you’ve got this renegade Ranger in here, Kosst’s XO, and the Strat Ops guy who’s been sent to overrule you at every point.’

‘I apologise for that ruse.’ Harrian Cal’s voice was low, smooth, and sincere as he leaned forward. ‘It was necessary for everyone, especially Commander Shepherd, to think there’s bad blood between me and Captain Rourke.’

Kharth scowled at him. ‘You don’t blame him for the deaths on the Firebrand.’

Harrian sighed as Rourke shifted uncomfortably. ‘I’d narrowly escaped being captured with them myself and was in Sickbay with my wounds when… it happened. I was angry with the captain for a while, and my report to the official inquiry supports that.’ They exchanged stiff glances, and Harrian drew a deep breath. ‘I was wrong. It took me years of prayer and reflection to realise this. But I was looking for someone to blame.’

‘That,’ said Kharth after a moment, ‘doesn’t answer anything.’ Her eyes landed on Rourke. ‘Explain all of this, explain why you’ve been rolling over when it comes to the Romulan people of the Neutral Zone, letting Jericho treat them as a potential threat -’

He didn’t stop her but lifted a pleading hand. She had loyalty enough to give him that chance and fell quiet. ‘Jericho was moved in over my head. Any influence I had to stop that died when Dathan proved herself a traitor. My name’s not as much as it was. Admiral Beckett’s name’s not as much as it was, at least for a while, and he told me so when I asked for help. He said I was going to have to help myself. Help myself, while Jericho removed those closest to me, undermined my network of allies and support. Even forced me to remove Valance from play when I could have kept her close, kept her as an asset on the Nighthawk… but I couldn’t do that to her.’ Rourke sighed and shook his head. ‘But then I remembered that I don’t need Beckett to get allies. So that’s what I’ve been doing – keeping my head down with Jericho while I get the right people in the right places.’

Kharth cocked her head. ‘You let him think that Harrian’s an enemy of yours so he’d assign him to hold your leash.’

‘It’s worked,’ mused Harrian. ‘Matt contacted me weeks ago and I put in for the assignment. When Jericho asked about my history with anyone in the squadron, I directed him to the transcripts of the inquiry. They spoke for themselves, or so he thought.’

‘Rus here,’ Rourke continued, gesturing to Brennos, ‘cut his teeth on my security team in the 80s. After I denied Commander Kosst an XO in Valance, I made sure his record came across her desk. So that gives me eyes on the Nighthawk.’

‘I’m not here to be duplicitous with Commander Kosst,’ Brennos said sternly. ‘I think she’s a good woman and a good officer. But I can keep an eye out, and especially keep an eye out for Jericho’s influence aboard.’

‘And I,’ drawled John Rosewood, a glass of white wine in hand that looked like it had been poured from the same bottle from which Sadek drank, ‘already hate Jericho. So I’m happy to undermine his pet Vornar from aboard the Independence.’

Kharth turned sharply to Gault. ‘Then what the hell is up with you? Because we’ve been out here a year and the captain never mentioned having an undercover Starfleet officer as a contact.’

‘Because that,’ said Gault with a beam, ‘was a lie.’

Kharth shot daggers at Rourke, who raised his hands again. ‘I have been in contact with Gault over the year, that much is very true,’ he said quickly. ‘I didn’t want to risk exposing him and there’s been no need to push it, so yeah, I compartmentalised information because this was off the books.’

‘And lied to Jericho. And Hawthorne. Why did Hawthorne buy it?’

‘Because Gabriel Hawthorne and I,’ interjected Harrian, ‘go way back to the Academy. With Brennos.’ The stern XO of the Nighthawk nodded.

Kharth sucked her teeth. ‘Brennos, who, I assume, warned us about the Nighthawk grabbing Gault in the first place.’

‘Correct,’ the Barzan admitted.

Rourke leaned forwards, hands on the table. ‘I worried what would happen to Eli if he ended up in the Triumph’s brig. So yes, I fudged the rules.’

‘Broke the rules,’ Harrian interjected. ‘However just the reasons.’

‘If we’re to be out here, actually helping people, then I want someone like Eli with us as a guide, not caught up in the courts on charges for crimes he didn’t commit,’ Rourke said hotly.

‘So now I,’ drawled Gault to Kharth, ‘get to be his new yeoman.’

Kharth worked her jaw. ‘This sounds like a lovely way for you to put together old friends,’ she said slowly to Rourke, ‘and to protect old friends. But what about Navinor? What about every other time you’ve capitulated to Jericho?’

‘I asked Harrian to make a stop-off on his way here,’ Rourke said. ‘At Nerillian. To encourage them to open discussions of a mutual defence pact with Navinor. But I’ve needed to keep a low profile while I get everything in order – the right people around me aboard, the right people on other ships, even the right people close to Jericho. He’s not the only person who can rig the game. I’ve been in the fleet a while, and I have friends and contacts, too.’

Kharth pursed her lips, sweeping her gaze around the gathered. ‘What about the Triumph?’

Rourke sighed. ‘I haven’t had the chance to approach Hale or Cortez. I don’t want to show my hand and Jericho keeps a tight control of his ship. Maybe that’s what comes next. But now, most importantly, Jericho thinks he has someone watching my every move with Harrian. He thinks he has control over the Nighthawk and the Independence, but I have both their first officers. And I have, working with me every day, someone who’s been operating in this region of space for over a decade and knows every unofficial way of doing things.’

‘Even if,’ muttered Gault, ‘the Fenris Rangers have been pretty squirrelly lately.’

‘I didn’t approach you, Saeihr, because I honestly didn’t realise I had to. And I’m sorry that I damaged your faith in me.’ Rourke sighed. ‘So consider this the official invitation to the team behind the team. The secret resistance to the hawkish bullshit of Lionel Jericho, and the team to make Starfleet do good out here.’

Kharth shifted her weight, and had a swig of beer so she wouldn’t say something curt. Then she said it anyway. ‘I feel like I should be inviting you to the team, the way you’ve been acting.’

Sadek snickered as she sipped her wine. ‘She’s got you there, Matt.’

Rourke looked a little taken aback, but she could see the guilt hovering around him and waved a hand. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Whatever. Let’s do the right thing and be mad at each other later.’

‘Good,’ he said, and brightened. ‘Good. First thing’s first, then. I want someone to talk to Elsa. I don’t yet know Far or Whitaker well enough, and Carraway is best being out of this so he can help everyone. I want to know your opinion on Airex. On if he can be trusted.’

I thought you were the one who had secret trust with Airex, came the treacherous thought, but Kharth smothered it with a swig of beer. She’d thought she’d need it to think about her answer, too, but found it the moment she’d swallowed down beer and bitterness. ‘Yes. Absolutely.’

Rourke’s smile was gentle. ‘Good,’ he said again. ‘That keeps things on Endeavour under control. Brennos will continue to monitor the Nighthawk, and hopefully we can bring Kosst in. Rosewood will keep an eye on the Independence, but Vornar used to be Jericho’s XO, there’s no way we can trust him. I’ll try to talk to Cortez or Hale when we’re at SB23.’

‘There’s just one more problem,’ said Harrian, then paused and shook his head. ‘No, I refuse to think of people as problems. There’s just one more question, if you’re talking about keeping things on Endeavour under control.’

‘Oh?’ Rourke raised his eyebrows.

Harrian leaned forward, lips pursed thoughtfully. ‘What about Shepherd?’