‘So far as we can tell,’ said Airex, eyes bright as he stood before the conference table, the projector behind him stretching out with his records – the Alpha Wreck, regional maps, everything they’d recovered from the Borg devices so far, ‘inputting the coordinates into the probe’s navigational systems reactivated it.’

Valance turned to Captain Daragon, seated across from her at the table, and tried to not clench her fists. ‘You assured me and Commander Cortez, Captain, that the probe’s systems had been disconnected. That the navigational computer had been separated from all other ship systems.’ Her voice still came in that low, cold rumble.

‘It was.’ Daragon leaned forward, speaking in the low voice of someone trying to be mindful without taking too much flack. ‘I’m not sure what happened. My Chief Engineer’s reports are with your Chief Science Officer. Nobody needs to have made a mistake for a disaster to happen with the Borg.’

‘You’ve been here for weeks; your people should know better -’

Airex cleared his throat. ‘I have some theories,’ he ventured, and Valance barely eased back onto her chair. ‘It is possible that reactivating the navicom meant dormant nanites were also reactivated, and repaired the physical connections to the probe’s systems. But we did have a bridging connection with our systems.’

‘Only via our tricorders and their power systems,’ said Perrek, brow furrowing. ‘There’s no way the Borg probe could use a power conduit to send a command. And our tricorders have… aw, hell.’ He leaned back, waving a hand. ‘I was going to say something about our security systems.’

Kharth was drumming her fingers on the table. ‘You’re saying that the Borg programmes jumped into, say, Cortez’s tricorder from her interfacing with the navicom, then across to Thawn’s tricorder with our network, then into the rest of the systems she was monitoring from there?’ Her voice came out like it had been dragged backwards through gravel.

Airex gave an expansive shrug. ‘These are theories.’

‘Do they matter?’ Eyes turned down the table to where Beckett sat. Lindgren was by his side, but she didn’t look like she wanted to be too close, either. The young intelligence officer sat up, gaze cold. ‘However it happened. They disappeared through transwarp. How do we get them back?’

‘We don’t know where they even are,’ said Kharth.

‘I’m working on it,’ said Airex with a sigh. ‘I’m liaising with the crew of the USS Ranger.’

‘Why?’

His expression flickered. ‘Because they have invested weeks of study into the transwarp conduit. I’m presuming that the probe proceeded to the Cube’s original destination – to complete its mission. Now we know more about that from our findings from the nodes and from our telemetry on this new transwarp conduit, we may be able to narrow it down.’

‘May,’ Kharth added.

Valance glanced between them. ‘Commander Airex, how far away might this destination be?’

He made a face. ‘I wouldn’t like to venture -’

‘Venture.’

He sighed. ‘Somewhere in this wider sector. Likely at or beyond the bounds of the Midgard region we know. It could be further.’

‘You mean,’ said Valance, ‘even if you find a location, it is likely weeks away.’

‘For us. Hours away at transwarp.’

‘So even if we get there,’ rumbled Kharth, ‘it’ll be too late.’

Silence settled on the conference room. Then Valance nodded. ‘Then let’s get to it,’ she said at last. ‘Find me their destination. Dismissed, everyone.’

Daragon lingered as the officers filed out, even though she stood, her body language seeping her desire to focus on the mission and work. Only once they were alone did the Redemption’s master straighten, clear his throat, and say, ‘I’m terribly sorry for your losses, Captain -’

‘I haven’t lost anyone yet,’ said Valance, not meeting his eye as she gathered PADDs.

‘I understand your need to see this through; I’d do the same myself.’ He clearly thought he was being comforting. Perhaps with someone else, the warmth in his voice would help. ‘But we must be realistic. Commodore Rourke may not grant permission to send Endeavour on a months-long trip to find officers likely dead.’

‘Commodore Rourke hasn’t said anything yet.’ Valance straightened up, now unable to keep the snap from her voice. ‘And you don’t speak for him, Captain. My objective is to uncover the Cube’s mission. That is still the priority.’ She heard the tension, the anger, and coiled it tighter in disgust at herself, forcing out a slow breath. ‘I appreciate your concern. But we’re not done yet, Captain.’

Daragon watched her for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘I will reroute all available support to this. Commander Airex gets all of the Redemption’s help he needs. Good hunting, Captain.’

As he left, she reached up to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathed out an oath when she was alone for merely moments before the doors slid open. ‘What?’

It was Shepherd, hands behind her back. She didn’t look too surprised at the snap. ‘Just so you know, Captain, Sae’s out there looking like she’s going to bite off the head of anyone who doesn’t give a hundred-and-ten percent…’

‘Has she actually bitten their heads off yet?’

‘No, but -’

‘Are they giving less than a hundred-and-ten percent?’

‘No…’

‘Then I don’t see the problem, Commander.’

There was a pause where Shepherd visibly gathered her words. ‘As the ranking officer who doesn’t have skin in the game,’ she said after a beat, carefully, ‘I wanted to check in.’

‘Our friends and colleagues are missing. Everyone’s got skin in the game.’

Shepherd made a face. ‘Your ex? Sae’s… I don’t know. Beckett’s girlfriend?’

‘This ship does not live and die on the professionalism of Nathaniel Beckett -’

‘It does live and die on the professionalism of you and Sae.’

Valance looked at her at last, expressionless. ‘Have I done anything unprofessional yet, Shepherd?’

‘No, but -’

‘This is not the first time this ship has needed to rescue comrades. This is not the first time I have needed to rescue Isa Cortez. I commanded Pathfinder to gather Cardassian allies, lead a battlegroup into Izar, and sweep across a battlefield to rescue the Triumph, and I did so all without losing my cool. You have lived and died, Commander Shepherd, on my professionalism in the face of personal tension already.’

Shepherd was silent a beat. Then she said, ‘And Sae?’

Valance paused. ‘I’ll talk to Kharth.’

Shepherd made a face for a moment. Then nodded. ‘Should I send her in?’

‘Do it. Thank you, Shepherd. That’ll be all.’

Valance tried to not pace in the mere moments between Shepherd leaving and Kharth coming in. The Romulan’s face was indeed like thunder, and indignation rolled off her the moment the doors slid shut behind her.

‘If Athaka cries, it’s not my fault -’

‘There’s a reason I want you as my XO and not Shepherd.’ Valance folded her hands behind her back and turned to her, expression flat. ‘Control.’

That did impact Kharth’s feelings, because her scowl changed for a look of confusion. ‘You think you can control me?’ To her credit, she sounded baffled rather than angry.

‘Shepherd wings things. She’s raw talent and optimism. Roll the dice and pull a rabbit out of the hat and swing home for cigars when it’s all over.’ Valance knew those types. She’d loved those types. She’d been those types. ‘And she gets away with it because she does it with a smile on her face and makes people love her.’

‘You sound,’ said Kharth after a beat, ‘like you don’t love her.’

‘Commander Shepherd is on Endeavour to keep her in the field, particularly with a new squadron-level responsibility. Rourke wants to get her her own ship, and he wants her as his eyes and ears in the sector. This is not a long-term assignment. Don’t get me wrong, she’s a credit to this ship and a critical officer to have about. But she’s not here to take your job.’

Kharth shifted her feet. ‘The last thing on my mind is my job security.’

‘Because of Isa. Because of Logan.’ A beat. Kharth nodded. Valance straightened. ‘You and I are both creatures of control, Commander. People don’t see it because you come across as angry and emotional, and your idea of control isn’t always the same as Starfleet policy’s. What they don’t realise is that you don’t let your feelings blind you. You let them fuel you. Then you assess situations down to the last variable, and just because you bully the long odds on willpower sometimes doesn’t mean that you haven’t perfectly assessed the risks.’

There was another pause. ‘I don’t know what you’re saying,’ said Kharth at last.

Valance let out a slow breath. ‘You’re my XO because when you roll the dice, I trust you to have rigged the game in your favour as much as possible. Because, for however different we are, however irreverent and dangerous you can be, I trust your judgement when it comes to risk. I trust your pragmatism when it comes to doing the impossible. And I trust your control of a situation. Even in circumstances we can’t control.’ She nodded at the door. ‘That’s all. You may carry on.’

Kharth didn’t move for a moment. Then the tightest of smiles tugged at her lips before it vanished, ghost-like. ‘We’re getting them back.’

Valance nodded sharply. ‘We’re getting them back.’

‘Establishing connection.’

Beckett realised he’d been driving the sharp metal rim of the PADD into the palm of his hand and pulled it away. As he’d stood in the gloom of the SOC and waited, he’d gripped on so tight he’d drawn blood. He wiped it on the sleeve of his uniform and straightened, looking at the communications screen as the connection was made and the figure appeared before him.

‘Lieutenant Beckett.’

‘Captain Faust.’

‘I heard what happened. A tragedy.’

‘It’s not over.’ He tilted his chin up. ‘I need your help.’

The image of Addison Faust frowned. ‘I would be pleased to help. I don’t know how I can.’

‘Starfleet Intelligence’s records on Borg transwarp. I know they exist.’

‘Those records lie high above your clearance.’

‘And there are lives on the line, Captain. With those, we might have a chance.’

‘If you know about them, you know what they’re about. That has to remain restricted, Lieutenant. I’m sorry.’

You’re not, Beckett thought. But that was an empty consideration, devoid of feeling. He didn’t have space inside for that sort of distraction. All there was, was the objective.

Find her.

‘I know how this world works,’ he said as he straightened. ‘Quid pro quo. I want that information. What is it going to cost me, Captain?’