Sandesjo’s reflection gazed back at her from the mirror. She looked pale, timid, defenseless—human. Rage, sorrow, and humiliation swelled inside her. Of all the traits that Klingons despised, none was so reviled as weakness. In a single rash statement, she’d rendered her deepest feelings as bare as her body; it was the most vulnerable she had ever felt and the closest she had ever really come to knowing the taste of fear.

Turning away from herself, she lamented ever having met T’Prynn—and surrendering to love’s bitter sting.

The passageway that circled Vanguard’s hub and looked out on its enclosed docking bay bustled with activity. Two huge Federation colony transports, the Terra Courser and the Centauri Star, had made port in bays one and two only a few hours before the starbase’s newest arrival, the Starship Sagittarius, had docked in bay four. Weaving adroitly and with long strides through the crowd of teeming two-way pedestrian traffic, Commodore Diego Reyes stole a glance out an observation window into the main docking bay.

Attending the Sagittarius was a swarm of small maintenance craft and several personnel in light-duty pressure suits, all of them scrambling into action, making minor repairs and erecting a cocoon of scaffolding and netting around the ship, in preparation for more extensive work. Alongside such massive vessels as the two transports, or its own larger cousins, such as the Constitution-class U.S.S. Endeavour or the refit Daedalus-class U.S.S. Lovell, the Archer-class scout ship looked almost like a toy. Another thing that made it stand out was how new it looked; its hull was pristine, its Zodiac-inspired ship’s insignia still gleaming, every letter and digit in its registry as crisp as they’d been the day it had left space-dock. Its docking hatch, located at the outermost curve of its port primary hull, was attached to an extended gangway that led to a series of narrow passages. Those fed onto the main thoroughfare, where Reyes now moved at a quickstep.

Reyes arrived at the entrance to the bay four gangway just as a chief petty officer unlocked and opened the pressure hatch. As the portal slid aside, he saw the senior members of the Sagittarius’s crew on the other side, moving just as quickly as he had been. They all wore nondescript, olive-hued utility jumpsuits devoid of rank insignia.

In the lead was Captain Adelard Nassir, a Deltan man in his mid-fifties. Slight of build and bald of pate, Nassir projected calm and dignity in his every action, no matter how great or small. Beside him was his first officer, a taller and much brawnier brown-skinned human named Clark Terrell. The man was built like a boxer but talked like a scholar.

Close behind the two men were two women. Trailing the captain was a statuesque blonde, who Reyes remembered was the ship’s chief medical officer, Dr. Lisa Babitz. He had met her only once, months ago, but she had made a lasting impression by taking the opportunity to disinfect the desk in his office.

Walking behind Terrell was a petite young redhead. Her name was Vanessa Theriault; she was the ship’s science officer. As with Babitz, Reyes had met her only once, several months ago, after the ship had first been assigned to Starbase 47 as its outrider scout. Something that Theriault had in common with Babitz was a gift for making a strong first impression: at the end of her first mission briefing, she had presented Reyes with a gift—a knitted scarf that she had made herself, in her “spare time.” He had yet to wear it and suspected he never would, but he still liked it.

Bringing up the back of the small formation was a lissome and pale-complexioned human woman with raven hair and a male Saurian who moved with fluid grace on bare webbed feet. These two Reyes had never met, but he recognized them from a past review of their service records. The woman was the ship’s second officer, Lieutenant Commander Bridget McLellan, and the Saurian was the ship’s newest field scout, a senior chief petty officer named Razka.

Theriault, Nassir, and Terrell were the only members of the ship’s complement who were privy to the real objectives of Operation Vanguard. But because of the new orders Reyes had come to deliver, that was about to change. Soon the entire crew of the Sagittarius, all fourteen of them, would need to be briefed. Knowing this bunch, he speculated, they’ll be too excited to know they ought to be scared out of their minds.

Captain Nassir nodded to Reyes as he crossed the last few meters of the gangway to join him. “Commodore,” he said with a friendly smile. “Sorry we kept you waiting.”

“Actually,” Reyes said, “I just got here myself.”

As he shook Reyes’s hand, Nassir replied, “I was talking about the six weeks it took us to get back from Typerias.”

“Oh, that,” Reyes said, returning Nassir’s grin. “If you ask me, I’d say you made pretty good time.” Looking around, Reyes noticed that the other officers from the Sagittarius were beginning to crowd around himself and Nassir. To the group he said, “Welcome back, everyone. I’ve opened a tab for all of you up at Manón’s. Head up and get something to eat. Your captain and I will be there shortly.” To their credit, Reyes thought, they took his suggestion in stride and moved off toward a nearby bank of turbolifts. Reyes made a sideways nod of his head to Nassir. “Walk with me, Captain.”

Nassir followed Reyes as he started a slow circuit of the deck. The lanky commodore walked more slowly than he normally did to make it easier for the shorter captain to keep pace with him.

In a confidential tone, Nassir said, “I presume you didn’t bring us back from a deep-space recon because you missed us.”

“Actually, I did miss you,” Reyes joked. “But you’re right, that’s not the reason. The Klingons have been listening in on our comm traffic, so I had to play my cards close on this one.” He let a group of enlisted men and women pass by in the opposite direction before he continued. “Did you read Xiong’s report about Jinoteur?”

Concentration creased Nassir’s brow for a moment. “The star system that was generating a subspace signal,” he said, swiftly recalling details. “It made your station go haywire, yes?”

“Crazy as a junkyard dog,” Reyes said. “We looked at Jinoteur to see if we could find the cause, but we didn’t see anything…until six weeks ago.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Nassir’s thin mouth. “And now you want someone to take a closer look.”

“Much closer,” Reyes confirmed.

Nassir half-chuckled. “I have to say, sir, I’m flattered and a bit surprised you’d assign this to my crew. Typically, a plum like this would go to a big ship like the Endeavour—”

“Busy showing the flag out by Forcas,” Reyes cut in.

The captain continued, “Of course, knowing the role the Lovell and her crew played in fixing your Jinoteur problem—”

“They’re on extended colony support to Gamma Tauri IV.”

Humility replaced pride in Nassir’s expression. “I see,” he said. “We’re going because we’re available.”

“I’m just yanking your chain, Captain. I wouldn’t have pulled you back across two sectors unless I had a damn good reason,” Reyes said. “Truth is, the Endeavour and the Lovell are the wrong ships for this mission. The first one draws too much attention, and the other one, I swear to God, seems to invent disasters. I need you, your crew, and your ship to do what you do best: explore the unknown.”

“Without getting noticed,” Nassir added. “Or turning it into a problem.”

Reyes glanced in the captain’s direction. “Precisely.”

Ahead of them, the observation lounge for bay one was coming into view around the curving bend of the corridor. Nassir asked, “Are we still handling this as need-to-know?”

“Not anymore,” Reyes said. “Your whole crew has to be briefed before you ship out. You’re also getting a sensor-grid upgrade and some new gear for your scouts.”