‘I don’t want to sound dramatic,’ Beckett lied as he swaggered into the astrophysics lab, ‘but I’m a genius.’

Airex folded his arms across his chest as he watched him. ‘You’re going to have to be a bit more precise, Lieutenant,’ he said, but then thoroughly wrong-footed Beckett by adding, ‘we have a lot of geniuses on board.’

‘Touché. I’m gonna thank you for not laughing in my face, though.’ He gestured to the main holo-display and advanced to the controls when Airex nodded permission. ‘I reached out to some of our friends in the Republic. Because they have access to some of the Star Empire’s deep space scanning infrastructure that’s observed the sector since before humans had even gone to space.’

Now Airex’s eyes lit up. ‘They’ve got, what, a thousand years of sensor readings?’

‘It’s incomplete. Fail to maintain these sensor arrays for fifteen years, blow up your backups in a supernova, and see how good your records are. And I expect they didn’t send everything. But.’ Beckett tapped the controls, and the holographic star chart changed. ‘We have more.’

Airex stepped forward, and long minutes past as he swept through the data. At last, he said, ‘This isn’t a comet.’

‘Yeah, no. That thing’s got propulsion systems on it somewhere. Sub-light, but it, you know. Turns.’

‘Eight hundred years, and it’s been sweeping between different stars in the sector,’ Airex breathed as he read. ‘Subtly. The life spans of almost every intelligent being we know of are so short we wouldn’t even know it.’

‘Nobody ever did a close drive-by,’ said Beckett. ‘But if we didn’t pick up propulsion systems, what else didn’t we pick up? Sensors?’

‘Impossible to say. We’ll reach Koperion at around the same time it does. I suppose we’ll find out more then.’ Airex looked at Beckett. ‘Good work, Lieutenant.’

He gave an evasive shrug, uncomfortable under the other man’s piercing gaze. ‘This was pretty straightforward.’

‘Talking the Republic into handing over star charts of this region? Even for one specific phenomenon? That’s not straightforward.’ Airex hesitated. ‘I know you didn’t want to join us on this mission…’

‘It’s a little bit – it’s not what you think.’

Airex tilted his head. ‘I don’t know what I think, Lieutenant. Except that you’re a capable officer who’s lost a promising billeting. That has to sting.’

‘Sting.’ Beckett gave a voiceless laugh. ‘I don’t know what you’re trying to do, sir. I do know what you’re not doing, though.’

‘Oh?’

He didn’t have much to lose, he reasoned as he turned to face the older man. ‘I know you’re in line to be Endeavour’s XO. But let’s be real. I’m way too junior to succeed you. This science department’s got, like, two, three times the numbers Pathfinder’s did. I’m a narrow-focus A&A officer.’

‘Not that narrow,’ Airex pointed out.

‘I appreciate getting a spot on the comeback tour,’ Beckett pressed on, taking half a step towards the door. ‘But really, sir, it’s okay. I’ll get an A&A team back in the Core Worlds or something and be fine.’

But Airex raised his voice to stop him short. ‘Is that what you want?’

Beckett hesitated near the door. ‘What does that have to do with anything? We don’t always get what we want.’

‘Maybe not. But we don’t navigate the practicalities of the universe by ignoring our own wishes. That leads to us being helpless on tides of chance.’ Airex’s expression was level as Beckett turned back. ‘We figure out what we want, and we navigate accordingly. Including, yes, sometimes making compromises and taking losses. Did you want to stay on the Pathfinder?’

‘The new skipper doesn’t want a twenty-five-year-old A&A officer as Chief Science -’

‘Not what I asked. No, I don’t think you’ll take Chief Science here. What’s wrong with being Head of Social Sciences again?’

‘I don’t…’

‘I gave you a task in cosmology and you fixed it with information networks. What’s wrong with returning to the SOC, like you did in the Gradin Belt?’

‘I ran the SOC in the Gradin Belt because Captain Rourke owes my dad -’

‘I don’t owe either Rourke or Admiral Beckett anything, and I don’t owe you anything,’ Airex cut in. ‘But I’ve worked for Intel and for Science and I’ve seen your performance recently and in the Gradin Belt, and I think you’re good at these jobs. Do you want them?’ As Beckett hesitated, he pressed on. ‘Do you want them here? On Gateway? Even back in the Core Worlds?’

‘I…’ Beckett’s voice faded. ‘People keep asking me that. What I want.’

‘It’s not easy, is it?’ Airex did soften at that. ‘But forgive me if I’m being impertinent, Lieutenant. I worked with Admiral Beckett for a while. He’s not an easy man to work with. Living with him can’t have been easy.’ Perhaps spotting the bristling these words evoked, he pressed on quickly. ‘Regardless of what he says, your wants aren’t stupid, Nate.’

‘I never said that,’ Beckett found himself snapping before he could stop himself. ‘And you don’t know me. You left five seconds after I was assigned here, and I left five seconds after you returned -’

‘Maybe, but I’m not wrong.’ Airex had always seemed so austere and superior. He knew something had changed after the Century Storm, after he’d been attacked by Doctor T’Sann at Starbase Bravo. The ship didn’t keep secrets well. Beckett normally thought the Trill was an interesting and smart guy, but if thoroughly standoffish, but the shift was wrong-footing him. ‘When did you enjoy your work most, Beckett?’

He hesitated. ‘The Tkon Crisis was a bit intense but I liked the work. Working with T’Sann was fun until it wasn’t.’

‘It’s not wrong to enjoy a disaster. You’re a Starfleet officer; that’s part of the job,’ Airex pointed out. ‘And you, Beckett, are a problem-solver. And you don’t get these kinds of problems in a Core Worlds anthropology team. Right now, the captain left you out of a job; say what job you want, and she’ll move the heavens to make it happen. If it falls within my remit, I will rubber-stamp an endorsement. But I won’t support you slinking off because you feel too much regret or shame to fight for what you actually want.’

Their eyes met, and Beckett paused again. Airex had been on the Guinevere with Thawn at Senolok in the Gradin Belt, when Thawn had connected to the echoes of murdered Brenari. When she’d unleashed them on a Devore warship, winning the battle. When she’d saved his life. But if he knew anything more, his eyes were guarded.

Beckett clicked his tongue. ‘I need to meet Logan in the SOC.’

At last, Airex nodded. ‘You do that, Lieutenant. Remember what I said.’

How do I forget that? But Beckett was already running late for his meeting and hot-footed it out of the lab with relief. They were a few hours out of Teros, but chasing down contacts in the Republic for the data for Airex had delayed him. Endeavour’s decks hummed with the quiet, boundlessly powerful energy of their warp engines, and he could only feel relief that they were inching further and further from that wretched planet. Nothing good had come of their last visit.

He wasn’t sure if anything good had come of this visit, and so kept light-footed when he stepped into the SOC to find Lieutenant Commander Jack Logan waiting for him. The spook and former Borg had changed into uniform, wearing the red-shouldered field jacket even here aboard, and was already at the main display, leafing through information packets on the Midgard Sector.

‘Commander? Sorry to keep you waiting.’ Beckett advanced, trying to swallow the sense of territorialism at the other man so brazenly helping himself to the system. ‘Had business with Commander Airex to clean up.’

‘You’re okay.’ Logan looked up, and the glint of his optical implant distracted from the glint in his grin. ‘I was familiarising myself with what you got down here. Tidy little setup.’

‘It does us fine. I’m -’

‘Nate Beckett. Sorry, they said you’d be sent down to help me, and if nothing else, you look a fair bit like your father.’

That had his back stiffen. He didn’t need two conversations about his father today. ‘I need to debrief you about Teros. The situation there’s volatile, and Gateway Station will need to decide how to move forward.’

Logan looked like he’d realised he’d misstepped. ‘By “volatile” you mean “doesn’t need one lone man disrupting things?” I got that speech from Commander Kharth already.’ He raised his hands, a strange mixture of bashful and tired. ‘I’m happy to submit to whatever debriefing you need; I understand the need for high levels of scrutiny over my fieldwork.’

But something about his tone caught Beckett off-guard. ‘Everyone’s fieldwork needs a solid debrief, sir.’ The two exchanged looks for a moment. Then the penny dropped, as did Beckett’s jaw. ‘Oh, no, I’m not – this isn’t about you being, uh…’

Logan looked rueful as the younger man flapped. ‘Borg? Reckon you’ll find it usually is about that, kid. Weird how everyone makes a big fuss about it but nobody can bring themselves to say the word.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Beckett said sincerely. ‘I’ve never met a former Borg.’

‘That’s ‘cos we’re usually pretty much incapable of functioning once out of the Collective. I was one of the lucky ones. I was only assimilated for a few years.’ Logan sounded wry, self-effacing.

‘It’s just a lot of people aboard have a lot of skin in the game on Teros. That’s all.’

‘So I hear. Broken families, betrayals, murdered officers…’ Logan winced. ‘Sorry. I don’t know if Lieutenant Drake was a friend of yours.’

‘I liked him. We weren’t close.’ But thinking of Drake’s murder made him think of Thawn weeping over him, made him think of Airex’s words. He looked at the strategic display of the Midgard Sector shining in the centre of the SOC. ‘Is your work usually like this? Bouncing from place to place?’

‘More than the average spook. Intel don’t like me settling roots, you see.’ Logan’s lips twisted. ‘Then I’d have to do things like directly advise command officers, or invest in a region, or… I don’t know. But you didn’t come down here to listen to how really hard my lot in life is.’

Beckett laughed despite himself. ‘Sorry, sir. Should we get started?’

Logan glanced at the map. ‘You’ll be recording right now, not inputting. That comes after analysis. Is there any reason we need to do this here and not, like, the bar?’

‘That’s… really down to you and how sensitive the data is.’

‘Not really. Vortiss sucks. The Rebirth suck. Nothing the average security clearance can’t let people know.’

Then Beckett’s eyes lit up as a thought occurred. ‘Alright. Because you’re my pass back into the Round Table.’

‘Sounds fancy. Lead on.’

Beckett frowned as they headed to the corridor. ‘Is that normal in your line of work? Debriefings in the bar?’

‘Sure,’ said Logan. ‘But I don’t reckon my reason’s the same as anyone else’s.’ His lips twisted wryly at Beckett’s curious look. ‘That’s the damning thing about being what I am. Folks want nothing to do with you. You know what I really like, though? Being around people. Even if I can’t talk to them.’