‘This thing was found drifting in deep space by one of Framheim’s survey runabouts.’ Cortez jerked a thumb at the hulking construct hovering gently in the cradle’s tractor field. ‘Systems were completely dead, the alloys it’s made of are unknown, so sensors weren’t picking it up all the while Starfleet’s been out here. But take a look at this projection based on its velocity.’

She turned to one of the control panels and summoned a holographic map of the local deep space around Framheim. A dot pinged up with the construct’s discovery location, before a line scrolled out from behind it. A line that led directly to the conduit.

Beckett tilted his head. ‘So this is something weird that came out of it?’

‘Nope.’ Another keystroke brought up new scrolling data, and Valance’s throat caught as she understood. ‘It was right on top of the egress point when the conduit formed, and the energy burst from that sent it drifting through deep space for the last two years.’

Rather than wait for Cortez to tease out every detail, Airex had stepped up to the diagnostic machines himself, reading intently. ‘The residual tri-quantum radiation scars match those from the Vadia fissure,’ he breathed.

‘So we think this had something to do with whoever caused it. We think this helped cause it.’ Valance folded her arms across her chest. ‘This was your team’s work?’

‘This was as much as Framheim had figured by the time the Sirius got here,’ said Cortez, almost apologetic. ‘But their engineering team’s all caught up on finishing building, securing the area – not a big project like this. Admiral Beckett had made the call for Rourke to deal with it. Rourke put my team on it. But Liberty Division were talking about being faced down by local warships and worlds putting out distress calls, so the rest of the squadron had to hustle.’

Before Valance could press, Airex gave a hum of interest. ‘The results of these energising tests are fascinating, Isa.’ His tone of voice was far gone, and internally, the captain sighed. She’d lost her second officer. Only the scientist was at home right now. ‘It absorbed energy across all these bands?’

‘And more.’ Cortez whirled around, eyes lighting up as she joined him at the panel. ‘See, I thought it might’ve been some sort of relay buoy, re-emitting the energy as low-level subspace noise. A navigational aid? But that energy carries the same tri-quantum signature as the fissure, too. It’s not a distress beacon or comms ping. It’s rerouting energy. And by default, it wants to try to reroute energy towards Vadia.’

Valance was a pilot by training, no slouch in astrophysics, but she knew that her bachelor’s degree and years of practical navigational experience would see her left behind soon. Then Beckett, the anthropologist, said in a rather desperate voice, ‘I need you both to get to the practicalities.’

‘Think of it like this.’ Cortez looked back at him and swept a hand through the projection. ‘Somebody out there fired a shot through subspace – a pulse carrying tri-quantum energy. This beacon was sitting right here when it hit, built to catch the wave, twist its direction, and slingshot it down another line. Straight to Vadia.’

Airex nodded, eyes shining. ‘A focusing lens, not a transmitter. And if we can dig into this thing’s computer core, we can trace that shot. Back to wherever it was fired from.’

Valance’s lips thinned as she thought. ‘We were warned someone was behind the fissure; even the Borg didn’t know who. And this… you’ve no identification of the technology?’

‘We’re in a whole new world, Kar,’ said Cortez, looking at her work, clearly too immersed to realise she’d spoken so familiarly. ‘Who would we recognise? What would we even know? But I’m seeing highly advanced systems capable of interfacing with subspace, interdimensional space…’

‘The question,’ said Beckett, arms folded across his chest, ‘is what whoever did this was trying to achieve. Transportation? Communication? Or was this an attack?’

Airex frowned. ‘Why would someone in the Shackleton Expanse, which has been all but incapable of sophisticated interstellar travel for as long as records list, try to launch an attack across a thousand light-years?’

‘The Borg Queen called them a threat -’

‘One step at a time,’ said Valance, raising a hand. ‘Commander Cortez. You’re the one holding the orders from Commodore Rourke.’

‘Oh, yeah. Sorry.’ She turned back, and now looked like she was in the room again, aware of the professional and personal context. Her gaze turned sheepish. ‘I’m to press-gang you and your staff into studying this thing and finding its origin. Whether that’s research here at Framheim, or chasing off if we can trace the source of the tri-quantum pulse.’ At her expression, she faltered. ‘I mean, don’t worry, Captain. This is your mission. You just get me along for the ride. And my team. Like old times.’

Which old times? Valance wondered, but instead gave a level nod. ‘Then have this transferred across to Endeavour’s cargo bay. You obviously have Commander Airex’s help. Take who else you need, especially if we’re just sitting here.’

‘I’m going to stick around,’ said Beckett, and at their glances, he shrugged. ‘What? First, this isn’t my first runaround with weird tech. I’ve seen Vorkasi stuff, Tkon stuff. Second, I was included in this briefing for a reason, and I bet that reason’s strategic. Like I said. The Borg Queen warned the fissure was a threat. Someone’s got to keep an eye on that.’

Once, Valance thought, he would have been getting up to his elbows in the problem as a scientist, even if his technical expertise was inferior to his peers. Somehow, young Nate Beckett had become one of the most cynical figures on her senior staff.

‘Tell me once you have something,’ she said instead, exchanging a slightly curt nod with Airex, and leaving them to it.

Back aboard Endeavour, Kharth rose to meet her at the turbolift when she returned to the bridge. ‘Turns out there’s a reason for all the cloak-and-dagger crap,’ she murmured. ‘Cortez had Framheim primed to get you aboard the moment we arrived. Someone in station command wasn’t as quick sending over the documents Rourke left behind.’

Valance nodded her XO to the ready room, and sure enough, when she fired up her desk console, the package was waiting for her. The two women sat as a holo-recording from Rourke played, their former captain giving a rather gentler and less technical explanation of the discovery of the beacon, and its potential implications.

Then he added, ‘…I know this isn’t what I promised you, Karana. I said you’d get back to exploration just as soon as we finished fixing what the Vaadwaur broke. Now there’s another mystery, possibly a dangerous one.’

‘There’s always another dangerous mystery,’ grumbled Kharth, arms across her chest as she kicked back and listened. ‘And we’re always the one to be sent at the biggest, freshest problem.’

‘It must be small comfort to know I give you these missions because there’s no team in the squadron I trust more to deal with the unknown,’ the projection of Rourke continued. Kharth gave a tired, demonstrative wave of the hand. ‘But I have to. Starfleet’s position in this region already threatens to be precarious. Liberty’s only days ahead of us, and they’re reporting worlds in chaos from the Shroud’s collapse, and warships from governments that don’t want us.’

‘So of course,’ muttered Kharth, ‘we’ll go where we’re not wanted.’

‘We can help people. We have to prove it. And we brought down the Shroud, so it’s our mess. Which means I have to get the squadron out there. Which means this… whatever danger we might have left at our back… I’m leaving with you.’ Rourke’s gaze turned steady, though with his image hovering above Valance’s desk, his eyes were locked on a point somewhere on the bulkhead behind her. ‘One more thing. Our friends in the Klingon Empire have reported movement into the Expanse from houses sympathetic to Toral. The Qor’otan has entered the region. Torkath’s ship.’

‘Great,’ came Kharth’s latest commentary. ‘Klingons who hate us, out here beyond the eyes of diplomats.’

‘Shh,’ snapped Valance at last.

‘I don’t know what his mission is, but so long as he and the House of K’Var are out here, watch your backs. Keep me posted. And find who started all of this. Rourke out.’

The image vanished, and Valance found herself glaring at Kharth through the space the projection of Rourke had filled.

‘What?’ said Kharth at last. ‘It’s not like I was giving running commentary on a call.’

‘Torkath isn’t an idiot,’ Valance said instead. ‘Rourke will stay with the squadron, aboard Sirius, with a dozen ships meeting him in hours if he runs into trouble.’

‘You’re saying a Klingon captain of a Vor’cha-class battleship who’s already tried to kill us once might think we’re a softer target out here on our own?’ Kharth subsided, looking away with a sour expression. ‘I hate that.’

‘I know. We have enough to worry about with the fissure and the debris, without the House of K’Var looking for an opportunity to take a bite out of us.’

‘Sure,’ said Kharth, ‘but that’s not what I meant.’ At Valance’s glance, she shrugged. ‘Why can’t we have a Klingon battleship try and kill us on our terms, instead of to spite someone else?’

Valance scoffed despite herself, and stood. ‘Don’t worry, Commander. If K’Var come for us again, I suspect we’ll have a chance to make this personal.’