Captain’s log, stardate 2402.11. We’ve departed the Lyrane system, following a lead from the USS Ranger. Captain Tycho’s assured me that, from his dealings so far with the Orvas Protectorate, he can get me a meeting with one of their ship captains. We’ve met up with the Ranger at a rendezvous point in deep space, hoping this Protectorate officer shows up – hoping they can give us some answers.

‘The Orvas?’ Gus Tycho picked up the two bottles of synthale from the replicator pad in his ready room and cracked them open before handing one to Valance. ‘Bunch of pricks, really.’

She’d come aboard the Ranger as a courtesy, and already faintly regretted it as she was reminded how Tycho acted – particularly in private. ‘That’s your official assessment,’ Valance said levelly, but took the beer. He’d all but forced them into the comfy seating up by the windows, away from his desk.

Most captains decorated their ready rooms with art and artefacts representing the Federation, showing off their taste and culture. On a technical basis, Tycho had done that. Valance just wasn’t sure how she felt about the aged electric guitar propped up on a stand behind the desk, and the wall art advertising concerts from fifty years ago.

It wasn’t that she found it low-brow. It was that she knew Tycho was deliberately trying to cultivate that image.

He rolled his eyes at her dry comment. ‘They’re the worst combination of officious and self-righteous. Imagine the stick up Borodin’s ass was bigger.’

‘I respect Captain Borodin a lot -’

‘Yeah, ‘cos he makes you look positively warm and fuzzy,’ Tycho growled. ‘These guys have been running their own system without outsiders for centuries, but projected their power out as far as they could – which wasn’t very far – with this message that on their watch, everyone gets to live free. Now, that’s one promise when it’d take months to reach your neighbours. What about when your neighbours are days away and acting in ways you don’t like?’

‘You think they could become expansionist?’

‘I think they got a very clear vision of how the galaxy should work, and they’ve got the firepower to enforce that vision. For the moment, they say all they want is to protect the Expanse’s right to self-determination. What if the Sarithans or the Lyranians use their freedom in a way the Protectorate doesn’t like?’

Valance took a thoughtful sip of beer. ‘A lot of critics have asked that question about the Federation.’

Tycho looked like he’d anticipated this argument as he put his feet up on the coffee table. ‘The Federation,’ he said, ‘is a democracy. I’m not sure how the Protectorate political system works. But from the bits we’ve pieced together, they’ve got obligatory national service; I think you need to have served so many years in a military or civic role before you can get a job in the legislature or executive. I’m not even sure how separate their military is from their government.’

She sat with this for a moment. Then said, ‘I don’t need them to be a democratic state. I need them to help me find who created the fissure.’

‘I’m curious to see how they’ll respond to that,’ Tycho agreed. ‘On the surface, they should cooperate – they don’t like renegades. If they clam up, it makes me wonder if they’re hiding something.’ He had a swig of beer and eyed her. ‘How’re you holding up with all of this?’

Valance shrugged. ‘I’ll be better if they give us a lead.’

‘Valance.’ His voice was level, demanding her eyes. When she looked at him, he gave a gentle, crooked smile, marked with weariness. ‘Your mission went weird, fast. You’re down a man. I’m not one of your crew who you gotta stay tough for. And I’m not Rourke, who you gotta convince to let you take on a personal mission. We captains gotta stick together.’

‘I’m holding up,’ Valance said a little tartly, ‘like I’m tired of being asked if I’m okay, and tired of being being mad about me not wanting to talk about it.’

Tycho watched her for a moment. Then he made a face. ‘Fair enough.’

‘I’ve lost an officer who I don’t just rely on, I actually like,’ she found herself saying before she realised. ‘And I don’t know if he’s been murdered or kidnapped. My XO is at risk of starting a war if she thinks the Orvas are responsible. And the Klingon Empire wants my ex-girlfriend extradited.’

Tycho paused at that one. ‘I can’t tell if that’s a plus or a minus -’

‘Gus.’

‘Okay, okay!’ He raised his hands. ‘Just sayin’, some of my ex-boyfriends…’

She shook her head, expression the long-suffering gaze of one who had no choice but to like Gus Tycho. But he pressed on, sobering.

‘Trust your crew,’ he said.

‘Of course I trust them -’

‘No, personally. They’re not going to fall apart if they see you have one feeling. Out here, like this? They’re our family. I know I said we captains are a family, but – you can have several families -’

Valance quirked an eyebrow. ‘This is the advice you thought I couldn’t get from anyone else.’

‘This is the advice I thought you wouldn’t listen to from anyone else.’ Tycho gave a one-shouldered shrug. ‘We’re buds. But you don’t care much what I think of you. And I ain’t gonna try and pry you open. I’m just calling it how I see it.’ He sipped his beer. ‘Just be fair to yourself: are you keeping it all tight for them? Or for you?’

She was saved from answering by a chirrup of the comms. ‘Bridge to Captain Tycho. We’ve picked up Commander Treviorn’s ship on sensors. ETA one hour.’

‘Oh yeah,’ said Tycho to Valance. ‘And I don’t know how fast their ships are, but: nowhere near as fast as ours.’

Valance returned to Endeavour not long after, wanting to talk with the Orvas with her own staff and records close to hand. Within fifty minutes, she was on her own bridge, and Lindgren was reporting from Helm in a cool voice:

‘Orvas vessel dropping out of warp.’

On the main screen, a long, sleek vessel with a silvery hull flashed into view, though even from here, Valance could see the pockmarks on the surface of weapon emplacements. This was a ship designed to be seen, to project majesty and power – but also to back it up with might.

‘They’ve raised shields,’ reported Walker from Tactical. ‘But my initial analysis of their armaments is that they’d be no match for the combination of us and the Ranger.’

‘They agreed to a meeting,’ said Valance levelly. ‘But they don’t know us. Let them be cautious.’

Kally turned from her seat at comms, finger pressed to her earpiece. ‘The Ranger is hailing them, and… connecting us, but on hold?’

‘Patch us in and let us wait,’ Valance confirmed, easing down into the command chair. ‘Let Tycho handle the introductions. He’s the one who’s dealt with this officer.’

Kharth leaned in, voice dropping. ‘What dealings?’

Valance paused. ‘He didn’t say.’

‘Great.’ Kharth clicked her tongue and fell pointedly silent.

After a few minutes, Kally spoke up again. ‘We’re being brought in.’

The viewscreen changed from the image of the two ships to split-screen communication. On the left, Tycho lounged indolently in his chair on the bridge of the Ranger, like a house cat sitting where he shouldn’t and daring someone to challenge him. On the right was the bright, sleek interior of an Orvas ship, though the closeness of the bulkheads made Valance suspect this was an office, rather than a command centre.

The Orvas commander’s skin was a deep, patterned bronze, which made her navy double-breasted, high-collared uniform particularly flattering. Valance had met dozens of unfamiliar species across her career, and knew frowning wasn’t always a sign of disapproval.

She suspected this was going to be a more predictable anthropological experience than that, however.

‘I’m Commander Treviorn,’ the Orvas introduced herself in a brisk, clipped tone. ‘You must be Captain Valance. Of Starfleet.’

‘Yeah,’ Tycho cut in with a sigh before Valance could reply, ‘I tried to smooth over the whole Klingon thing. You know, Commander Treviorn’s xenophobia.’

She can hear you, Valance thought with a taut jaw, but she had to remember Tycho wasn’t the fool he pretended to be. ‘I am Captain Valance,’ she confirmed. ‘Of the Federation starship Endeavour. I’m aware your people have had clashes with the Klingon Empire.’ She paused, weighing her words, before adding, ‘So have I. Probably more recently than you.’

She caught a flash of a grin from Tycho as Treviorn regarded her, gaze level. Then the Orvas commander nodded. ‘Very well. Captain Tycho has helped us with some raiders who thought the Sarithans were a soft target. The Protectorate and your Federation still do not have formal diplomatic relations, but he has earned you the time of a conversation.’

‘Then I won’t waste it, and cut to the point,’ said Valance, Commander Treviorn’s brusqueness deeply refreshing to her. ‘The transwarp conduit that gave the Alpha Quadrant access to the Expanse was born of a subspace fissure that someone created. We traced the origin point of that fissure to an asteroid facility – empty, its crew dead, an abandoned ship aboard. We believe that ship and crew to be Orvas.’

Treviorn sat for a moment, impassive. Then she said, ‘That’s quite an accusation, Captain.’

‘It’s not an accusation, it’s a request. I’m sending you some of our scans and studies now.’ Valance gave Kally a nod. ‘I don’t believe the ship or individuals were Protectorate military. They appear to be civilians, who undertook a journey of years to reach and build this facility.’

Treviorn’s gaze flickered to one side, and Valance looked to her own armrest to confirm the files had been sent. There was a brief silence as the Orvas commander read. ‘This is a considerable amount of data to both study and verify, Captain. I’ll have to forward all of this to my superiors.’

‘I understand that,’ Valance said, but leaned forward. In the background, there was a new ping from Kally’s station at comms. ‘Surely you have databases aboard, though – something you can check here and now about the ship, or any of the names or faces of the deceased or that we’ve secured from the freighter’s archives…’

‘I will forward this to my superiors,’ Treviorn repeated. ‘Who will reach out to yours once this information has been evaluated. Thank you for bringing this matter to us. But I will not share information on Protectorate ships or citizens without verification or permission.’

Valance’s jaw tightened. ‘That fissure nearly devastated a sector of Federation space. We’re trying to find who’s responsible for an attack on billions of our people. I’m aware you’ve already stone-walled our diplomatic efforts; I’m not interested in sending you off with a data package for you to then go silent for weeks while…’

But Treviorn was looking off screen, scowling, and Kally was giving her a frantic wave from her station. Valance gestured for her to mute, and realised Treviorn was also inaudibly talking with someone. ‘What?’ she hissed.

‘I’m picking up a distress call,’ Kally said, whispering as if that would stop Treviorn from hearing. ‘Orvas. From one of their colonies – they don’t have many. Something about a hostage situation?’

Valance frowned as the information was sent to her armrest console. She took a moment to read, then said, ‘Unmute.’

‘Captain,’ Treviorn said at once, ‘I have to bring this to an end. We have -’

‘A situation, I can see that. The distress call was on an open channel.’ Valance leaned back in her chair. ‘Belligerents showing up at one of your agricultural colonies. A colony which is nearly two light-years away.’

‘And my ship is the closest -’

‘Your ship isn’t capable of getting there in less than two days. My ship can be there in two hours.’ She paused a beat to let that sink in. ‘Come aboard yourself, or send what personnel you wish. Let us help you help your people.’

Treviorn was silent. Valance could see the calculations running in the other woman’s eyes, underpinned with vast swathes of doubt and uncertainty.

But there was, she knew, only one possible answer.