‘You took down Qureshi’s curtains,’ was the first thing Lorraine Everard said when she entered the station commander’s office. As Rourke hesitated, unsure if he should defend himself or apologise, she broke into a beam. ‘Good. They were right ugly.’

‘Captain.’ Rourke smiled, gesturing to the seat opposite. ‘Thanks for coming in. Cuppa?’

‘Milk ‘n two,’ Everard confirmed. She was a stout woman in her fifties, with steel and sand in her hair and soft-faced but with a sharpness to her eyes that warned Rourke not to underestimate her. Not that he would after reading her record. ‘So what’s been happening the five seconds I was gone?’

‘Everything,’ Rourke grumbled as he headed for the replicator. ‘I’m grateful you chose to cancel your retirement and come back.’

‘Didn’t have much of a choice, did I, with this Frontier Day business. They’re putting kids in charge of everything.’ Everard eyed him, a man nearly ten years her junior. ‘No offence, duck.’

Somewhat delighted by the irreverence, he brought mugs of tea over and sat down. ‘None taken. Commander Shepherd was happy to step in as first officer for a time, but managing Gateway is a huge task, and I want her to be free to act abroad.’

‘You mean, let the lass take the Tempest out for a spin while you ‘n me sit here doing paperwork?’ Everard chortled. ‘Desk of a big old starbase like this is no place to tether an up-and-coming firebrand like her.’

It was a technical demotion for Shepherd to move her to Senior Officer of the Watch and bring Lorraine Everard, Commodore Qureshi’s former first officer, out of retirement to reassume her old post. But it also freed Shepherd up to act, as Rourke had always wanted her to, as his envoy in the field, and played better to the young officer’s strengths than the management challenges of the leadership of a starbase. Shepherd had been a little disappointed at the principle of the title loss, but Rourke thought she’d been sincere in agreeing that it was for the best, even for her. Six months as Gateway’s XO, and she’d probably have been bored to tears.

‘Do you mind me asking,’ Rourke ventured, ‘why you were looking to retire, anyway?’

‘You want to know if you’re about to lose me again?’ Everard raised an eyebrow. ‘Getting the new SB-23 established were always meant to be my last job. I don’t want command; I want to keep things running. And Starfleet were never meant to be a lifetime job for me. Thirty years, see the galaxy, do some good, then I had a slew of visiting lectureships lined up.’

‘Interstellar Relations,’ Rourke checked, confirming her area of expertise. Decades on the Romulan frontier made Everard one of the foremost minds on how to handle this region of space.

‘Aye, except it’s all changing fast anyway, ain’t it?’ She shrugged. ‘Now we’re reaching a hand out to the Rommies instead of telling ‘em, “suck it up, you shouldn’t have sat on a supernova for years.” I can spend another five years getting to know the twenty-fifth century before I move onto the glamorous lifestyle of the travelling genius.’

Lorraine Everard had a reputation for being hard-nosed and no-nonsense and was not by demeanour or appearance in any way ‘glamorous.’ He still made sure to wait for her to grin before he did. ‘It’ll be good to keep you. I wasn’t happy with how much institutional knowledge we lost.’

‘Aye.’ She waved a dismissive hand. ‘Anyroad. You were telling me what I missed.’

Rourke sighed. ‘We’re trying to reach across the border more. Teros needs a full humanitarian support operation to rebuild them and pull them out of the hands of the Rebirth. Federation citizens like the heads of Dyke Logistics are seeing opportunities. But I want to try to mediate any Federation expansion by cooperation with the Republic.’

Everard clicked her tongue. ‘They’re new to this patch. Only got here by snaffling up territory from Rator’s collapse. I don’t know much of them, but I’d be surprised if they weren’t consolidating still.’

‘Agreed. I’m trying to get a regular liaison or find someone to send to Nemus Station or Unroth. I don’t -’

‘Ops to Commodore Rourke.’ Shepherd’s voice over comms cut through the discussion. ‘Sorry to interrupt, sir, but something a bit odd’s happened. The Swiftsure’s just arrived.’

Rourke sat up, frowning. ‘She should be in Deneb,’ he mused. Gesturing for Everard to follow, he stood and started for the door.

Ops was abuzz with this curiosity, and Shepherd looked even more concerned when the two ranking officers stepped into its midst. She turned away from the flight control station where Rhade sat, also frowning. ‘I’m only hearing from their comms officer,’ Shepherd said. ‘Swiftsure has proceeded to the Alfheim colony, and it seems like Commander Xhakaza has declined to have her enter our airspace? It’s like they’ve got business on the surface.’

‘I’m checking in,’ Rhade assured them. A moment later, he, too, turned, his frown deeper. ‘I’m not sure I understand. They’re reporting that their commanding officer, Captain Faust, is meeting with the governor on Alfheim and will proceed to Gateway once her business is resolved.’

‘Who the hell,’ snapped Rourke, ‘is Captain Faust?’

Tall and austere, Addison Faust looked not in the slightest concerned by the feathers she rustled when she entered Rourke’s office four hours later. Dark hair was tied back in a severe bun, while steely eyes met his without so much as a whisper of compromise or contrition as she came to a halt before his desk. ‘Commodore Rourke. It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.’

Rourke sat with his hands flat on the desk and tried to not glare. There was no way Captain Faust was too stupid to realise the insult she’d rendered. That didn’t mean he would hide his displeasure completely. ‘I’d say the same, Captain, but I’ve no idea who you are.’

‘The new captain of the USS Swiftsure.’ She pulled a PADD from under her arm and advanced to hand it over. ‘To answer your question, Commander Xhakaza has been reassigned.’

‘I wasn’t informed -’

‘On the orders of Admiral Beckett.’

Rourke’s heart sank. At the start of the year, Admiral Beckett had professed helplessness in the face of Starfleet politics, his credit dented as interference brought Lionel Jericho in command of the squadron. Frontier Day had likely disrupted the balance of power, with many of the admiral’s rivals either losing influence or being outright killed. With the bodies still warm, Beckett had plainly wasted no time reasserting his influence. He drew a sharp breath. ‘I would expect command-level decisions about my squadron to be run past me.’

‘This is running these decisions past you,’ said Faust unapologetically, and she sat without being asked. ‘You should be pleased, Commodore. You’re not losing Xhakaza. You’re gaining far more than you realise. I’m here to bring you the good news.’

‘Good news?’ Rourke echoed, voice rather flat.

She nodded at the PADD. ‘On the orders of Fourth Fleet Operations, Endeavour Squadron is to be expanded. You will, of course, retain command, sir, of the squadron and Gateway Station. But also assigned under your command are the USS Redemption, Sovereign-class, and the USS Ranger, Intrepid-class. Commander Xhakaza has been assigned to the Ranger, along with his young crew. It was thought that such a ship would be more appropriate to their experience.’

Rourke at last looked down at the PADD. ‘An Echelon is a lot for them,’ he admitted. ‘They proceeded to Deneb?’

‘We met at Starbase Bravo and conducted the handover,’ Faust confirmed. ‘With the SCE Team at Izar, I cannot expect they lack the facilities to render all necessary aid in recovery. I have been assigned command of the USS Swiftsure. You might know the Redemption’s CO – Taviel Daragon?’

‘By reputation only,’ said Rourke. His frown deepened. He didn’t know Faust, but she bore all the hallmarks of one of Beckett’s creatures: cold, efficient, and convinced she spoke with the admiral’s voice. He wondered how long it would take Beckett to get bored of this latest toy and put her down and how long it would take Faust to realise this would, or had, happened. Daragon, on the other hand, had commanded the workhorse Redemption for some years, and his reputation was that of an old-school Starfleet commander, the type of officer who had railed against the downturn of the past fifteen years and been sidelined for it.

He carried on reading. ‘This states the expansion is to respond to the changing strategic situation. I didn’t realise Command was this concerned by the reports of a few pirates.’

Faust sighed, showing at last a flicker of emotion: frustration, and not at him. ‘This comes to why I was on the surface, sir. The governor of Alfheim, here in the Midgard system, and Amadeus Dyke have both been… expressing their views. The uptick in piracy, the potential terrorist threat of Teros, the unknown dangers of Koperion. They want them dealt with.’

Rourke’s expression set. ‘We have no reason to think there’s a danger on Koperion. We have no reason to think that the disruption of Teros will move beyond its surface. I’ve had these conversations with Mister Dyke and the governor myself.’

‘And they have friends more powerful than you, sir,’ Faust said, eyebrows raised a flicker. ‘The Alfheim colony has been here for centuries, the last bastion of the Federation before the Neutral Zone. They view themselves as sentinels standing before the dangerous unknown and people far more seasoned in that danger than you.’

‘The Star Empire hardly ever did anything across the Neutral Zone,’ Rourke grumbled. ‘The colony’s greatest contribution was digging in their heels when it came to taking refugees of the supernova.’

‘And they were heeded,’ Faust pointed out. ‘Dyke Logistics, on the other hand, has a new claim: a claim of Federation citizens to riches and resources in neutral space. And neither party feels they are suitably heeded or protected.’

Rourke’s nostrils flared. ‘We’re hunting down the Three Lost Crows. We’re drawing up plans for Teros. It wasn’t even my choice to send the Swiftsure away -’

‘Admiral Beckett knows all of this, sir,’ Faust pressed on levelly. ‘You lacked resources. Now you have them. But I have to be blunt: the Federation Council expects Federation citizens with a stake in the Midgard Sector to be listened to. Midgard system colonies, Dyke Logistics, others. And I am here to represent and support their interests. I met with the governor to assure him of this. He was considering hiring personal security for the trade shipments, but now he knows that Gateway Station’s support vessels or the Swiftsure herself will see to it.’

‘Does he, now.’

‘You can always overrule me,’ she said, ‘but the governor will take that as another slight.’

Rourke’s eyes flickered to the PADD. ‘I see here that you’ve also been assigned as deputy squadron commander.’

‘It made sense for Captain Valance to serve in the role before. Now it doesn’t,’ Faust said simply. ‘Endeavour can go anywhere in the sector and do anything. That ship should be pushing the boundaries of Starfleet’s knowledge, intelligence, and presence, and Captain Valance is undeniably qualified to do that. But it will keep her distant from the rest of the squadron. She is also considerably less experienced than me or Captain Daragon.’

‘This should have been a conversation first,’ he chided. ‘Not a dictate.’

‘That,’ said Faust, ‘is something for you to discuss with Admiral Beckett. All of this is, of course, yours to override. Swiftsure is here, under my command, to provide rapid response to emerging situations. We have vast facilities and a large enough smallcraft to deal with anything this sector can throw at us. Our day-to-day will be supporting frontier operations – Federation frontier operations.’ She reached for the PADD. He handed it back, and she flicked through the screen before reaching without asking for the holographic projector on his desk and fired the document before them. ‘The Redemption can represent you in the field, sir. Her presence will deter warlords and larger threats, and as a symbol, a Sovereign-class in the sector is an astonishing message of the Federation’s commitment. She can oversee the humanitarian situation on Teros, build bonds with the Romulan Republic. And lastly, once the Ranger returns, she can see to scientific missions closer to home while Endeavour pushes that frontier. Starfleet has barely scratched the surface of systems a stone’s throw from our border; we weren’t allowed here these past two and a half centuries. Commander Xhakaza is a perfect fit for understanding the frontier right on our nose.’

‘I have no problem with any of this,’ Rourke said, unable to avoid sounding huffy. ‘But you must know that Admiral Beckett can make these decisions from afar – here, the decisions are mine. And if you go over my head to him, you can be sure your time here will be brief.’ It was easier, as the threat gained weight, to sound more serious.

Faust didn’t, at least, look dismissive, and inclined her head. ‘I have no intention of doing so. I understand you may think my arrival was a slight. Let me reframe the situation: you can bring me to heel. You can make me de-prioritise the Midgard system colonies – they are tiresome, aren’t they? Self-important, xenophobic, entitled.’ That tone made Rourke hesitate, but she was expressionless, emotionless in her assessment. ‘They are, however, a reality of this frontier. Continue to do as you have, Commodore. Remind them that they are not more important than people who have suffered and died as the Federation stood by, all so they could keep their green space rather than give it to unsightly refugees. But if that is all you do, they will keep going to their powerful friends, and they will make your life harder.’

‘You’re saying that you can be good cop to my bad cop.’

‘I’m saying that you are here to look outward because that is what many in Starfleet and the Federation want,’ Faust said coolly. ‘That is your mandate. But it would be short-sighted to forget that it is not what everyone in Starfleet and the Federation wants. You can let me meet their interests, be their ally and voice in sector operations, and sincerely involve me in your decision-making so they are heard. Or you can shut me out, shut them out, and see how well that goes.’

Rourke tilted his head. ‘Is that a threat, Captain?’

She shrugged. ‘I expect I would have to do nothing to ensure you see the consequences of such an action, sir. My priority is Starfleet.’

Yes, he thought, watching her. But which Starfleet? Beckett’s reputation for hawkishness was well known. Faust was likely cut from similar cloth, here to seek and destroy threats and put Federation interests first. But Beckett had nevertheless always given him, Rourke, a long rein, however much they clashed and disagreed. His political agenda was not myopic.

Beckett was not, however, perfect. What he thought Faust was and what Faust actually was were not necessarily the same thing. Perhaps she would prioritise small-minded Federation citizens at all costs, or perhaps she would offer balance. Regardless of anything else, Rourke had to admit that nothing she’d said so far was incorrect.

Still, he stood and offered her his hand to shake. ‘Then welcome to the squadron, Captain. Just make damn sure that you run anything like your meeting with the governor past me before you pull shit like that again.’

She did not argue. Merely stood, shook his hand, and left with all due courtesies.

It gave him a chance to sit with his head in his hands before he finished reading the PADD. The language was less proscriptive than Faust’s had been, he found; far more had Admiral Beckett written this like he was offering resources. It did not escape Rourke that this was possibly intentional by both of them.

His voice was sharp when the door-chime sounded. He gave his summons and had to sigh apologetically when Valance came in. ‘Karana. It’s been a day.’ He offered her a seat and the PADD.

‘So I’m hearing,’ she said. She sat and read, her expression remaining pinched. At length, her nostrils flared, and she looked up. ‘Captain Faust seems a better choice of deputy with this formation.’

‘I don’t -’

‘We could, I suspect, discuss this at some length, sir. Matt.’ Valance shifted her weight. ‘What I came to talk to you about isn’t as serious. But it has some urgency.’

He tensed. ‘Go on. Did Beckett and Fox get underway alright?’ The expedition to the Synnef Nebula had been, he realised, due to depart an hour ago.

‘The expedition has left,’ Valance said dismissively. Whatever the situation was, it had her more frustrated than concerned. At length, she straightened and said, ‘I have some personnel issues.’