‘When I find the people who did this…’

‘We know the identity of those responsible, Commander. They are deceased.’

‘There’s more of them – there’s a whole cult of the bastards. I’m going to find them -’

‘No. The Protectorate will find them. We have a target.’

‘I can hunt more than one thing.’

Kharth’s furious voice reverberating around Sickbay was what pulled Airex fully back to consciousness. Light swam in to blind him as he opened his eyes, but that was not as much of a mistake as moving, which stirred stabbing pains in his skull and left shoulder.

‘What happened?’ he croaked, mouth dry.

Shadows loomed overhead, and he had to blink away spots to make them out: Starik, right by his side, Valance beside him, and, still in dusty and worn field gear at the foot of the bed, arms folded across her chest, a sullen Kharth.

‘Commander.’ Starik looked from his face to the display by the biobed. ‘You are conscious. Your injuries were significant but not life-threatening. You sustained a mild concussion, soft-tissue contusions across the left shoulder and ribs, and a hairline fracture of the clavicle. All have been repaired.’

Airex swallowed. ‘Oh,’ he managed at last.

‘It was pretty significant,’ Kharth growled. ‘We had to dig you out from under the rubble -’

‘Indeed,’ Starik agreed mildly. ‘Hypoxia was a greater risk than blunt-force trauma. But you are now stable.’

Valance glanced between her officers, then her gaze fixed on him. ‘How do you feel?’

‘Sore.’ He sat up gingerly, and had to reach for the water on the side before Valance stepped around Starik and passed him the glass. ‘What happened?’

‘The bastards blew themselves up.’ Kharth shifted her feet. ‘They’d rigged the place with explosives. For some damned reason, they let the hostages go, then detonated. They’re all dead.’

‘The hostages?’

‘Some injuries,’ said Starik. ‘Like you, not all were clear of the blast radius. We are rendering aid to the Orvas.’

‘But they’re all alive,’ said Valance, ‘and they all have a good prognosis. Which makes this self-immolation regrettable, but better than the alternative.’

Airex drank too quickly, water trickling past his lip. ‘You think they’d have blown everyone up if we’d breached.’

‘I don’t know why they even let the hostages go first,’ muttered Kharth.

‘They must have found us unpredictable.’ He rubbed his temples warily, feeling the points of pressure and pain. ‘They expected to be stonewalled and met with military violence. The Protectorate would have breached without warning, and gotten everyone killed. I don’t think they knew what to do about us.’

‘Treviorn broadly agrees,’ said Valance, resting her hands on the side of the biobed. ‘She’s shaken by the idea that if she’d done it her way, there’d be a lot of dead soldiers and civilians. Which is the good news: she’s agreed to help us look into the facility’s builders.’

His focus sharpened at that. ‘We’re getting access to their records?’

‘Better, hopefully. We’re going to the Orvas system. She’s made a recommendation, and we’ll be meeting with representatives of their security services to try to get to the bottom of this.’ Valance glanced at Kharth. ‘As soon as the relief work on the surface is done.’

Kharth met her gaze levelly. ‘Walker and Thawn are monitoring things.’

‘And when we’re done here,’ said Valance with a hint of exasperation, ‘you can check in on them. I still have matters to iron out with Treviorn.’

Airex looked at Starik. ‘Am I free to go, Doctor?’

Starik gave a brief, thoughtful hum as he studied the display a beat longer. Then nodded. ‘You are to rest for the next twenty-four hours, Commander. Report back if you have any lingering pain, particularly headaches. Otherwise, I have no concerns.’

As he began shutting down the diagnostic array, Airex glanced between him and Kharth. ‘I need a moment with the captain.’ At Kharth’s frown, he grimaced. ‘Please.’

Valance met his gaze as Kharth slouched away, while Starik withdrew with typical Vulcan indifference. Once they were alone, she let out a deep breath, her shoulders sagging. ‘If Kharth did something -’

‘She was fine,’ Airex said quickly. ‘Good, in fact. I was concerned for her when Griffin was injured; I know he was one of hers since she headed Security. But she cleared my attempt to negotiate; you’ve nothing to worry about there.’ He paused. ‘The row before I woke up notwithstanding.’

‘I think she…’ Valance hesitated. ‘Dug you out. Walker was the one who reported what had happened.’

The image of what had transpired as the dust settled became clearer. Debris everywhere. Kharth rushing out to find him as Walker communicated with the ship. He swallowed, and tried to not think of her desperation; of whatever she might have been feeling. ‘That’s not what I wanted to talk about.’

Valance sobered, and at the corners of her eyes, he could see tension. She’d been worried, too. ‘Go on.’

‘First, let’s skip the parts where you say I’m crazy or concussed. I know both are possible. But before the Ashen Path detonated, I saw…’ Airex winced. ‘I am certain I saw Logan. In the streets.’

Valance was quiet for a long moment. Then she said, ‘Do you think he was physically there? Or that this was telepathic?’

His chest eased at the quick trust. ‘But I don’t know. The Vezda can travel across vast distances; maybe this system stands on a subspace fold. And they’re immensely telepathically powerful. So… any of these. Maybe.’

Another pause, before Valance said, ‘Okay. You’re not going to like this suggestion.’

‘I know; I get Starik to run more head scans -’

‘No. Well, perhaps.’ She grimaced. ‘I was going to suggest we wait. There’s no need to share this information among the rest of the senior staff. We need more corroborating evidence before we leap to conclusions.’

‘You mean,’ Airex said, jaw tightening, ‘to not tell Sae.’

Valance’s gaze dropped for a moment. ‘Yes,’ she said at last. ‘At least, until we know more.’

His voice dropped, softening. ‘She’s not made of glass, you know. She’s…’ He paused. ‘Not who she was when you met her.’ Who she was when Davir Hargan knew and loved her.

‘I know. I might be jumping at shadows. But we’re not just investigating the fissure, we’re in critical diplomatic talks with the Orvas, and I don’t need my XO to break under worry for a loved one.’

‘While you,’ Airex offered, ‘worry about Isa.’

Valance’s gaze snapped up, sharper now. ‘I’m not projecting. Because Torkath’s extradition has nothing to do with this mission, and everything to do with what’s weighing on Kharth. Besides, there’s one key difference.’ At his frown of confusion, her expression fell. ‘I think you’re right. I think Logan’s dead. And I think at some point, she’s going to learn, realise, or accept that. And then I think this goes very, very wrong.’ She stood up and clasped his shoulder. ‘Get some rest.’

He made it out of Sickbay under his own power, but only just. The walk to his quarters was a blur, the turbolift’s hum, the overhead lighting, the footfalls of crewmembers down the corridors all too loud, too bright. Every so often, the deck felt like it was tilting under him, and he resolved that if this didn’t pass with rest, he’d return to Starik.

His quarters were dark and quiet, at least, and once the doors shut behind him, he could close his eyes. His breathing was loud in his ears, his heartbeat thumping in his chest, but it was all slow. Steady. Grounding.

Then the image of Jack Logan stood in that dusty alleyway rushed before him, and he drew a sharp breath, eyes snapping open.

Nothing. Nothing but his room, and the gentle turn of the planet Holsavar beyond the window.

Davir Airex was an expert at pushing thoughts to one side, at compartmentalising, but a key component of that was routine, function. He went to the washroom. Warm water. Cloth. Simple acts.

With the mirror underlit before him, he dabbed at the last of the dust and grit still clinging to his hairline, and watched it form a swirl of muddy water in the sink. When he straightened to view his reflection, though, the cleanliness had just made him look pale and worn.

He pressed his hands to the sink, bowing his head. Rest, Starik had said.

He tried; changed into sleepwear and stretched out on his bed, dimmed the lighting more, set a timer to remind him to check for headaches, and closed his eyes.

At the fifth breath, he saw Logan again. Gritted his teeth. Adopted age-old breathing techniques.

Twenty minutes later, he was back on his feet, pulling on a fresh uniform.

He’d expected the labs to be quiet at this hour, but he padded in to find Cortez sat before the main holo-display, entranced as information scrolled through the projection at a rate of knots. She jumped up as he walked in.

‘Dav! Shouldn’t – hey, shouldn’t you be resting?’

‘I can’t sleep,’ he admitted, and looked at the projection. ‘We’ve got something?’

‘Yeah…’ Cortez winced, looking him up and down. ‘You look like hell. But I’m glad you didn’t get blown up or flattened.’

‘Me too. But a near-miss is why I’d like to keep busy.’

She settled down at that, sinking back into a chair. Where most people would fuss or shut down, she gave warm sympathy, and then accepted his explanation supportively, he noted with relief. Cortez pushed another out with her foot for him to join her, eyes brightening as she gestured to the screen. ‘Good, ‘cos we just hit the jackpot. Treviorn gave us the decryption codes we needed.’

His eyes widened as he sat. ‘We’ve got access to the builders’ ship database?’

‘You bet your ass we do. Logs, maintenance records, nav records. It’s all real technical stuff; they don’t seem to have kept much about their crew or even themselves, but there’s some stuff here, dated from shortly before their arrival. I wanted to wait on you or Nate before going over it…’ She reached out for the controls, tapping a few commands.

‘What did you find?’

‘Well, I found that whoever maintained their environmental systems had no appreciation for proper coolant flow, but…’ She kept flicking through entries. ‘I’ve got some of the early construction logs from them building the array. Some of the design notes. Annotated. I didn’t want to dive in without someone who actually understands anthropology and symbolic systems, so…’

He leaned forward as she brought up a stark, clear image of a technical schematic, with more rough sketches and annotations marked at various points. His gaze skipped over the engineering details, the fundamentals of the mechanical marvel that they had built, and locked on the scrawls.

Loops. Lines. Those elongated ovals. A dark stroke slicing it like a wound.

The ache in his ribs stirred anew. ‘Stars above,’ he breathed. ‘It’s the same damn thing.’

She looked at him, squinting. ‘What?’

Once again, as Airex swallowed, his throat was bone dry. ‘That symbol that the builders drew,’ he croaked, and slumped back in his chair. ‘It’s the same thing the Ashen Path painted below.’