The science lab hummed with work that had not slept for a week, and would not rest soon. Valance found Cortez stood before the holo-projector, the half-resolved schematics of the Orvas freighter rotating in pale blue. Beside it scrolled the scans Sirius Squadron’s ships had taken of other Protectorate vessels.

Valance stepped in quietly, hands clasped behind her back. ‘Commander. Progress?’

Cortez didn’t look up, fingers drumming on the console. ‘Yes, and no,’ she sighed. At the wave of a hand, the projection expanded, highlighting sections of various ships. ‘Cross-referencing our studies with the squadron’s scans? This thing’s Orvas-built, no doubt. Hull composition matches, power distribution tracks, even these weird triple-redundant coolant loops.’

‘Military?’

‘Civilian, I think. We don’t have a lot to go on. Our freighter looks like it’s carting around last-generation components, some of which are pretty mismatched. The military’s ships are sleek, well-designed, well-made. This and the facility look scavenged, bought second-hand… you name it.’

Valance moved closer, studying the mismatched systems. ‘That suggests a group acting independently.’

‘Yeah,’ said Cortez, but she sounded distracted. Valance waited for her to piece together whatever thought she was gathering, but as the silence stretched on, the air suddenly hummed less with a professional check-in with the mission specialist.

At length, Cortez cleared her throat and turned to her, leaning awkwardly on the projector. ‘…about the briefing. About Torkath.’

Valance turned, brow furrowing as she straightened. ‘There’s no way you get handed over for an imperial inquiry where they’ll scapegoat you in the name of Torkath’s injured pride and their own warlike agenda.’

‘I know that -’

‘Hale won’t stand for it, and she’s handling it. You shouldn’t worry about it.’

Cortez faltered at that, head tilting, and Valance realised she’d perhaps mis-stepped. ‘Do I get to decide what I should worry about?’

Valance sighed. ‘I mean that it doesn’t need to distract you from your work.’

‘So I’m distracted now?’

‘That’s not what I said.’

‘No, you just spoke over me in the briefing,’ said Cortez, visibly reining in her irritation. ‘And gave me no chance to say if I wanted to carry on aboard Endeavour with this hanging over me.’

Valance’s frown deepened. ‘Nobody forced you, Commander – and if you think I won’t ensure your protection -’

Cortez flinched at that. ‘It’s not about my safety. It’s about whether I want to endanger this crew by putting them between me and Torkath.’

‘Torkath doesn’t know you’re still aboard,’ Valance pointed out. ‘He’s not psychic. And if he’s going to assume that you didn’t disembark, he’s a problem for us whether you stay or go.’

For a beat, Cortez stared at her, frustration clear in her gaze. Then she huffed. ‘Fine. You win.’

‘Commander -’

‘I stay aboard and you get to be the big, tough protector, ensuring my safety but not even talking to me…’

‘That’s not fair; it’s my job to make sure everyone aboard is safe -’

‘And you’re still not listening to me! God!’ Cortez reeled away, throwing hands and gaze to the ceiling. ‘I know you’ve got issues about dealing with Klingons in Klingon ways and I’m sorry you had to make a pact with Torkath like you did, but you can’t take that out on me!’

Valance stopped at that, head tilting. ‘You think I’m blaming you for my oath to Torkath?’

‘I know you’d resent invoking your position as a member of the House of A’trok -’

‘I don’t regret what I did.’ Valance spoke in a low, level voice, and Cortez stopped, gaze turning to her slowly. ‘I did what I needed to secure the safety of this crew. Of Airex.’ She hesitated. ‘And you.’

Cortez stared at her, frustration dissipating, but in its place was not peace or comfort, but confusion. Hurt. ‘Don’t do that,’ she said at last, voice low.

Valance frowned with honest confusion. ‘Do what?’

‘Say things like “It’s my job to make sure everyone aboard is safe,” and then say things like – like that…’

Valance swallowed. ‘Isa -’

‘I gotta keep up this analysis, Captain.’ Cortez pushed past her to return to the holo-projector. ‘We need to know as much as we can about the ship if we’re going to ask the Orvas the right questions.’

Valance knew a dismissal when she heard one. She paused for a moment, then ducked out for the door without another word. As the doors slid shut behind her, she thought she heard a muttered oath in Spanish.

Her quarters were quiet, at least. Away from the constant hum of the rest of the ship, the eyes of the crew upon her. Logan had been popular – was popular, she corrected herself, still fighting with tenses in her head, belief in her head. The mood aboard in his absence was fraught, uncertain. But in the absence of answers, they needed comfort.

Karana Valance wasn’t much good at comfort.

She’d settled down in an armchair with a Parrises Squares game on the wall display – piped in from Alpha Centauri to Framheim and transmitted to Sirius Squadron while Endeavour had been chasing tri-quantum pulses – when there was a door-chime.

‘Come in,’ she called, pausing the game with a frustrated suck of the teeth. It wasn’t that she was desperate to catch up with sports, but there was an ease to sitting down in front of a game when stressed, an emotional or intellectual engagement she didn’t have to commit.

Then Olivia Rivera walked in.

Valance stood, switching the game off immediately. ‘I didn’t know you were aboard…’

‘I just got here,’ Rivera said, tilting her head like it was obvious. ‘I thought you knew I was on Sirius.’

‘I did, but…’ Valance’s hand dropped by her side. ‘I had work. Debriefing. Planning my ship’s next move.’

‘That wasn’t an accusation. I didn’t expect you to drop everything to say hi. But I heard…’ Rivera winced. ‘Rumour’s doing a hell of a thing. That Logan’s dead…’

‘We don’t know that,’ Valance said hotly, surprising herself with her own vehemence. She lifted a hand to her temple and remembered why she’d come to her quarters. Her security chief was the one person she could blow off steam with in the gym, but his absence was a large part of why she wanted to do that. ‘Sorry. I can’t talk about it.’

Rivera’s eyes widened. ‘I’m not here to scalp you for a story, but I heard the mission went crazy, Logan’s… whatever, that a Klingon officer is dead, that the Empire’s mad…’

‘I can’t confirm this -’

‘I came to check up on you!’ Rivera stepped forward briskly, but her hand at Valance’s chest was soft, grounding. ‘You can tell me no details, but if you tell me things, we’re off the record. I thought it was clear by now that we’re off the record unless you say otherwise.’

Valance closed her eyes and found her hand rising to take Rivera’s. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said after a beat. ‘It’s just been – difficult. And I don’t know how to explain it, make sense of it.’

‘Hey…’ Rivera brushed her fingers across her cheek. ‘I know you. I know you’ve got this siege mentality when things go wrong. I’m not asking you to open up, but I wanted to show up. You’ve got to front for your crew. You don’t have to front for me.’

These were all accurate assessments, but didn’t quite touch the simmering embers at Valance’s core, the parts of her that roiled beneath the surface. Uncertainty over Logan. Apprehension over Kharth. Frustration over Torkath – guilt over Cortez –

So rather than voice any of them, she did what came easiest when Rivera reached out. Gave up on talking, and kissed her.

For a moment, Rivera was close in her arms, leaning in. Then Valance tightened her hold, hands sliding to her waist, cracking open the frustration inside her to pour it into the embrace –

And Rivera put a firm hand on her chest. ‘Karana…’ She pulled back to rest her forehead against hers, wincing. ‘Hey. I didn’t come here to just… totally not talk…’

The tension flooded back in, cracking into Valance’s chest. ‘You said I didn’t have to open up.’

Rivera pulled a step back, staying at arm’s length. ‘I meant you didn’t have to bare your soul to me – I didn’t mean I’d come here for a desperate hookup so you could fuck your feelings out.’

‘I didn’t…’ Valance’s voice trailed off as she realised Rivera had her dead to rights. ‘I didn’t have any expectations.’ That part was, at least, true as she let her hands drop, let Rivera step away.

‘I know,’ Rivera sighed, and looked away to the window. In the distance, the stars of Lyrane shone bright, rippling across the hull of the graceful Sirius, hanging much smaller in the view than she truly was. ‘I guess I didn’t, either.’

‘Olivia…’

‘It’s okay,’ Rivera said with the small shrug of someone who knew it wasn’t quite okay but had to accept reality. ‘We’re two adults who like each other, who hook up sometimes, who don’t make a big deal out of it.’

Valance hesitated. ‘I thought we’ve been honest with each other about that.’

‘Sure. But you just had a godawful mission, and you don’t have to talk about it, but you just tried to use me to bury it. And that’s not honest, either,’ Rivera pressed gently. ‘And it’s not what I’m here for.’

Valance stood rigid, caught between apology and denial.

Rivera watched her for a beat, then shrugged, not unkind. ‘And now you want me to keep talking, because if you speak, you’ve got to say something. And you don’t know what you’re going to say.’ She stepped forward, leaned up – and kissed her on the cheek.

‘I’m not asking for more,’ Rivera murmured, and stepped back. ‘I never was. I can be a place where you can hide. But I won’t be a place you can hide from yourself.’

She turned to the door. ‘Call me later. Or don’t. It’s fine.’

There was a moment where Rivera paused, Valance thought. Perhaps giving her space to answer – space to stop her, or even just space to explain, to say more than empty protests and deflections.

But the silence won.

And five minutes later, Valance was sat back in the armchair, watching the match, alone.