‘Quite the view, isn’t it?’

Karana Valance’s gaze had been sinking through the massive viewports that stretched from deck to ceiling at this upper level of Starbase 23’s arcade. At this point of the rotation, the blue-green gem of Midgard III, hundreds of thousands of kilometres below, dominated the horizon. In some hours, the same spot would give her a view of the bustling traffic around the station, with all the buzzing activity of a busy Federation border, but for the moment, all she had to contemplate were distant seas and skies, and a more peaceful life.

The intruder to her thoughts looked like he’d realised what peace he’d shattered, and gave a bashful, apologetic smile wholly at odds with the uniform and pips that belied the discrepancy in their rank and station. ‘I come often here to think.’

‘Commodore Qureshi.’ Valance snapped upright and around into a tight, disciplined stance as she stood before the commanding officer of the station and all Starfleet operations in the Midgard Sector. ‘My apologies, sir; I thought I had half an hour until our meeting…’

Hasan Qureshi, grey-haired and bearded and with bright eyes that twinkled at her shift in stance, raised his hands. ‘Now, now, Commander. If you were late for a meeting, I wouldn’t come looking for you myself, would I? I’ve got staff for that. Watch out for my security chief; he’s a persistence hunter.’ He shook his head. ‘I’ve been stuck at my desk all morning. I thought we could try talking not in my office. There’s some excellent coffee shops on the arcade.’

Even at the best of times, Valance was not one to disagree with a flag officer, however eccentric their behaviour. The end of a long journey hauling two ships across the quadrant for reasons that still escaped her after the most vicious interstellar combat of her professional life was far from the best of times. But it was at Qureshi’s behest she had finished the campaign in Deneb with a scramble across the galaxy.

The moment they were settled in his chosen coffee shop – ‘Bean Me Up,’ a bright-lit premises whose white walls made the amber lights and upholstery somehow warmer and more welcoming – she looked him in the eye and said, in her politest yet firmest voice, ‘What can I do for you, Commodore?’

‘You can pass the sugar, please,’ was his amiable response, but he gave her a reassuring smile as he loaded sweetener into his latte. The specks ruined the Starfleet chevron stylised into the foam. ‘And then you can tell me how you are and how your crew is. Crews are?’

Her hands wrapped tightly enough around her wide mug to feel the heat of the piping-hot black raktajino. ‘As you say, sir, it seems I’m responsible for two ships. Pathfinder joined us at Farpoint after the battle. Triumph and Independence didn’t. Nor did anyone aboard them except for Commanders Shepherd and Far. But I was directed to report with Pathfinder and Endeavour here, leaving the rest of the squadron behind.’

Qureshi sucked on his teeth. ‘Let me take one concern off your plate, then, Commander, though I wager you’ve already figured it out. The squadron is gone. Dissolved. Lionel Jericho and Matthew Rourke reported to Starfleet Command at Earth and there’ll be an inquiry. Don’t worry, I expect any of your people will only be expected for remote testimony at most.’

She frowned. ‘I served with Matt Rourke for years. As did some of my people on Pathfinder. The crew of Endeavour were there when it all went down…’

‘Which is why,’ Qureshi interrupted gently, ‘you’ve all been sent out here. Far, far away from Starfleet Command and the unholy mess that is about to fall down on the squadron leadership for what happened at Deneb. Because there’s no reason for that to ruin the careers of good officers whose only crime was showing loyalty when these messy decisions were made way above their heads. Besides.’ He sipped his latte, foam catching in his moustache before he wiped it. ‘Endeavour’s crew should be dripping with honours after Deneb, including under your command at Farpoint. No need to make shining records murky.’

Even with a commodore, Valance was glad the coffee shop was a public place, filled with officers and civilians getting a mid-morning hot drink. It meant she remained the picture of self-control as she stared at Qureshi. ‘You’re saying I should forget about the fallout of… of mutinies, of Changelings, of my mentor being arrested before he saved the day at Izar, and look to my own skin?’

His brow creased. ‘I don’t think of it like that. I think it’s a chance to not tar good work with bad business, for choices none of you made or were responsible for. Especially you. But yes, if you want to be political about it, Commander Valance, the Fourth Fleet has sent you all to the Midgard Sector to keep you clean of this entire sorry affair.’ He shook his head. ‘There’s a lot to talk about after Deneb. But I’m more interested in this being a conversation about what’s next.’

‘Next?’

‘For you, Commander Valance. For Endeavour, for Pathfinder, for all her crew. What’s next, if you want to consider it, for the Midgard Sector.’ Commodore Qureshi leaned back and swept a demonstrative hand around the coffee shop Bean Me Up as if it were emblematic of this whole frontier.

She frowned in confusion. ‘What’s next is that I’m captain of the Pathfinder, and we’ll continue our mission in former Romulan territories. Yes?’ But it was all phrased as a question. She had a ship. She took her assignments. She completed them.

‘Pathfinder,’ Qureshi mused, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. ‘That’s the first part of next. Command doesn’t want a ship like her going so deep into somewhere that politically fractious. They’re intending to post her off instead to the Typhon Frontier on a core-ward exploration mission.’

She could tell he was studying her reaction, but schooled the clunk of disappointment in her chest to maintain a level expression. ‘Then that’s what’s next.’

‘Is it? Is that what you want? Your record suggests you’re an officer who keeps her hands dirtier than that. That you want to help people rather than chart a new system.’ Now frustration coloured her gaze, and he lifted a hand. ‘You’re an explorer, Commander. I don’t doubt it. But you’ve also made a career on work that makes people’s lives better.’

‘You’re making it sound, sir, like I have a choice.’

‘A lot of people in Command prefer to turn a blind eye to what happened in Deneb. But when it comes to those paying attention, you’ve made an impression, Commander. In the past, at Izar, at Farpoint. A lot of lives would be lost without you and your crew. So I’m going to ask you a question, and you’re going to say no, and then I’m going to tell you to think about it some more.’

‘Why am I going to say no?’

Qureshi lifted his coffee cup with both hands. ‘Do you want to be the captain of Endeavour?’ As she reeled, he sipped.

Valance’s mouth had gone dry. ‘Matt Rourke is captain of Endeavour.’

‘Matt Rourke was legally relieved of command by Lionel Jericho.’

‘He’ll be reinstated,’ she said stubbornly.

‘Commander.’ The corners of his eyes creased with sympathy. ‘I’ve been directed to find a new commanding officer for the USS Endeavour. If it’s not you, it will be someone else. It will not be Matt Rourke. However this inquiry goes. For my part, I think he’ll either be stripped of the uniform or move on to better things. If you desperately want to stay loyal to him, your best chance is by saying yes, then emptying the chair if he ever wants it back.’ Qureshi shook his head. ‘I hope you don’t say yes for that reason. You deserve better.’

There had been a time where if she’d been offered command of Endeavour, she’d have jumped at it. When Captain MacCallister had retired from injuries, she’d expected to succeed him and resented newcomer Matt Rourke for months. When she’d chosen to stay aboard instead of taking her own command, it had been with the aspiration to learn more as XO, and eventually step up.

But she had never wanted it like this. Valance swallowed. Then she squinted at him. ‘Why is this your responsibility, sir?’

He sighed, and suddenly looked rather tired. ‘The Midgard Sector is changing. For two hundred years, this was a silent frontier facing off against a silent foe. Then the supernova happened, and then Mars happened, and still Starfleet kept the doors to the Neutral Zone shut. But the last claimant to the Star Empire is gone. You saw that happen last year. And now, this station stands at the threshold to a wild and wondrous stretch of space – the Republic and our fledgling friendship, the fallen Neutral Zone that so much chaos has rushed in to fill, the worlds that once owed fealty to Rator and are now abandoned.’ Qureshi set the coffee cup down as if it was far, far heavier than it should be. ‘Starfleet is done turning our backs on the people across the border. I’ve been in this sector for many years, and it falls to me to see this station rendered fit for this new purpose. This new duty. To look out, to reach out, instead of to closing our doors. And with the almighty disaster that befell your squadron in Deneb, I’ve reached out so any of it that could possibly be salvaged could come here. And do some good.’ He moved the PADD at his elbow in front of him and tapped in quick commands. ‘Endeavour will be here to help. I’d like you to help me, too, Commander.’

The assignment orders shone on the PADD as he flipped it and slid it to her, bright and alluring. All it would take was her thumb-print and she’d have it, what she’d desired for so long.

I was too far out, she’d told Rourke at Izar. Too far from her bonds, too far from her commitments. Valance rolled a shoulder. ‘Endeavour is a ship of exploration, too.’

‘Endeavour is a Constitution III-class ship, built in the image of Starfleet’s splendour. That’s a symbol, and it’s a symbol Midgard needs badly,’ Qureshi said, kind but firm. ‘But we’re talking about a region that’s been forbidden to Starfleet since before its founding. You can be certain, Commander, that missions of exploration are on the menu.’

It was as if the PADD gleamed tighter. But Valance looked away, forced herself to take time as she sipped her now-lukewarm raktajino, and said, chest near-bursting, ‘What about my crew on Pathfinder?’

Qureshi gave a gentle smile. ‘This station, and its predecessors, were here like the Roman soldiers sent to the empire’s furthest reach, holding back the barbarians. Except that was always a flawed way of thinking, wasn’t it? No, I need the right people in the right place. Here on SB-23, on Endeavour, on other ships in the sector. Anyone who wishes can, of course, stay on Pathfinder for her next mission. But if they want to continue the work you started, this is the place.’ He opened his hands. ‘Truthfully, there are officers on the roster of both ships I’d like for this station. But those are conversations I’d have with Endeavour’s commanding officer.’

She gave him a rueful look. ‘You’ve thought of everything, haven’t you, sir?’

The smile widened, though something in his eyes didn’t quite fit. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about the future. About what I’d like Midgard’s future to look like. Not just for Federation citizens, not just for our allies in the Republic, but for everyone. Starfleet’s looked away for so long that I know stepping in now will be hard. Which is why I want you to do it with me, Commander. I don’t think you shy from difficulty in the face of what’s right.’

Her eyes once more fell on the PADD. ‘I wanted this for a long time,’ she admitted.

‘So why the hesitation?’ He sounded curious, concerned, rather than pushy.

Karana Valance bit her lip. ‘What I want is not necessarily my priority in decision-making, sir.’ It was an impulse that had led her so many ways lately. Away from Endeavour, away from Isa. To Pathfinder, to something new. And now the path was turning about, coming back, and yet also to something wholly new.

I was too far out.

The PADD beeped softly at her thumb-print, and Valance let out a slow breath. When she looked up to Qureshi, his pleased smile was soft. That made it easier; she couldn’t have stomached it if the commodore acted like this was his victory over her. She straightened. ‘So Endeavour will operate in the Midgard Sector,’ she said carefully. ‘On humanitarian missions, diplomatic missions, exploratory missions.’

‘And be the ship who ranges deepest into the sector. Into unknown territory,’ he confirmed.

‘But we’ll be based here,’ Valance confirmed. ‘At Starbase 23.’

‘Headquartered, really.’ Qureshi’s voice took on a thoughtful air. ‘But yes, this will be the hub of Starfleet’s outreach operations now. It was built to guard the border, blockade the border, but that’s all changing. We’re throwing open our doors, now. So I’d been thinking of a better designation. One that doesn’t have that history.’

‘A better designation?’

‘It’s not unusual for Command to give starbases code-names.’ He leaned forward, and now his eyes lit up in a way they hadn’t when he’d spoken before of the future. Whatever he could see now was brighter. Whatever he could see now was without whatever shadow had fallen earlier. ‘What do you think, Commander,’ said Hasan Qureshi. ‘About Gateway Station?’