‘See? You didn’t hate it.’

‘It’s not about liking or disliking it,’ Rosara Thawn said primly as they crossed the path through the sun-soaked gardens. ‘It’s about not seeing the point of it all.’

Elsa Lindgren’s smile twisted as she popped her sunglasses down from her forehead. ‘It’s a spa session, Rosara. The point is relaxation. Remember what that is?’

Thawn rolled her eyes. She still had the bottle of infused water they’d given her, and was all too keenly aware that the echoes of the treatment clung to her, the scent of lemongrass lingering on her hair and collar. ‘It felt more like a cooking class. Except I was the thing being basted.’

‘Yeah, you really sounded unsatisfied with that massage.’

‘The massage was fine, but the things they were rubbing onto us – does my skin really need it?’

‘It’s fun. Also, we’ve been ordered to relax.’

Thawn waggled an indignant finger. ‘Nate pulled that one already.’

‘It clearly works, so I’ll keep using it.’

They rounded a corner past the hedge wall, and the path widened. The upper reaches of Port Faran was dedicated to the leisure activities and locations that benefitted most from the stunning view, so outside the spa was a sprawling stretch of parkland. Their route out took them through the fitness garden, mounted bars, padded mats, and outdoor gym equipment laid out under the shade of pergolas and palms. This late into the morning, a smattering of Starfleet officers were making use of it, but Thawn only recognised one.

Caede had claimed the parallel bars. Tank top clinging to him, muscles taut, dark hair slick with sweat, he worked through a set of L-sit pull-ups with perfect form, his breathing slow, movement controlled.

Thawn rolled her eyes. ‘Speaking of people who don’t know how to relax…’

‘Speak for yourself. I’m finding this very therapeutic,’ Lindgren drawled. At Thawn’s scandalised look, she huffed. ‘I’m kidding.’

Caede’s head turned slightly, hearing or spotting them. He released the bars and dropped effortlessly to the ground before padding over. ‘Commander. Lieutenant.’ He wiped a line of sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.

‘Centurion.’ Lindgren’s reply was even. ‘Enjoying the best Port Faran has to offer, I see. You know, we have bars and museums…’

‘We don’t build gyms overlooking the ocean in the Republic,’ came the dry reply. ‘I’m broadening my cultural horizons.’ He looked them both over. ‘I bet there was a lot of cultural fulfilment in a spa treatment.’

‘We were relaxing,’ Thawn said, suddenly defensive of the activity she hadn’t even wanted to do.

Lindgren shook her head. ‘He’s being a tease.’

‘You started it,’ Caede shot back.

‘Maybe I am a tease.’

‘Thought you were the picture of Starfleet propriety.’ His wristband chirruped, and he stepped back with a set to his lips that was maybe supposed to be a smile. ‘Next set.’

Thawn stared at Lindgren as Caede returned to his workout.

‘What?’

‘Don’t what me, Elsa -’

‘It’s rude to read my mind,’ she said, continuing their saunter down the path.

‘It’s rude to consciously try to read your mind. For hidden thoughts. This wasn’t that hidden.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘How’s Mac?’

Lindgren gave a hefty but impatient sigh. ‘Mac’s fine. His team will be in town tonight. We’re going for a lovely dinner. Don’t read too much into things.’

Thawn knew she was a prize over-thinker, particularly in social and emotional matters. Sensing some of Lindgren’s thoughts and feelings was one thing; understanding the wider context a completely different challenge. It didn’t, for example, explain any boundaries of her relationship with Mac Aryn. And when Lindgren was being evasive like that, she knew better than to ask.

‘Are you in on this Idol hunt?’ Thawn asked instead, quietly pleased with herself for realising now was the time to change the subject.

‘Of course,’ said Lindgren. The relief was near-tangible. ‘Kally and I are figuring a way to isolate its signal – if we can pinpoint one that’s consistent, unregistered, and mobile, we can home in on it. It has to be pinging every four hours, or it wouldn’t know it’s been idle that long.’

‘Isn’t that cheating?’

‘What, figuring out how the tech works? What’s the alternative – hunting through the luggage of six thousand Starfleet officers in Port Faran?’ Lindgren shook her head. ‘This game rewards ingenuity.’

‘Nate was making it sound like the trick was to spy on everyone, yes,’ Thawn sighed. ‘That does sound more interesting.’

‘I’m meeting Kally for lunch to plan, and then we’ll get to work. You in?’

‘I want to shower and change. Meet you at the Seawall?’

‘Don’t be late. I intend to win.’

They parted at the edge of the promenade, Lindgren peeling off toward the cafés while Thawn headed back up the low hill to her apartment. Despite her protest, the spa session was doing its work, alongside the hum of gentle activity, the warmth, the light breeze. She was, despite herself, starting to feel relaxed.

Then she stepped into the suite, and the soft chiming from the console on the wall brought reality crashing back in. Incoming Communication. And she recognised the point of origin.

She delayed as long as she dared, tying her hair back, considering if she should throw on a respectable blouse to obfuscate her decadent relaxation, before deciding she didn’t have time. Then she accepted the call.

‘Auntie.’

‘Darling, I’ve had more enthusiastic receptions at funerals,’ came the wry, gushing greeting of her great-aunt Anatras, the matriarch of her house. Iron-grey hair was curled and tall, and Thawn recognised the decorated bulkheads of her personal yacht behind her.

‘Sorry, Auntie,’ she said reflexively. ‘I only just got in. It’s lovely to hear from you.’ Across this distance, she didn’t have to summon a sincere emotional reaction. She did have to force a smile, force that creeping tension back out of her shoulders. Had to look like she meant it.

That wasn’t as hard as it might have been. She’d been trained for it her whole life.

‘I should hope so!’ Anatras insisted. ‘I know you’re enjoying your little indulgent break, and I do hate to interrupt it. But hopefully this intrusion won’t be so terrible as all that.’

Ice slipped into her gut. ‘You’re coming here, aren’t you.’

‘Don’t be silly!’ Anatras laughed, and for a moment, just a moment, Thawn thought she was free. Then her aunt said, ‘My role at the ceremony will keep me in Alpha Centauri City, after all. I won’t have time to pop down to Port Faran.’

‘The ceremony.’

‘The liberation celebrations – this is Alpha Centauri after all, so it’s only appropriate that representatives from the Federation heartlands come together here.’

This meant, Thawn thought guiltily, that the Twelfth House didn’t have a role to play in the ceremonies she knew were happening on Betazed, or not a role grand enough to satisfy Anatras Thawn. Alpha Centauri would certainly see some of the most prestigious ceremonies, as a founding Federation world celebrating the repulsion of the Vaadwaur invasion.

But it wasn’t a coincidence.

‘You’re on your way, then,’ Thawn said, trying to keep that smile but finding it become a rictus. ‘That’s wonderful. I’ll make sure to head to the capital for the ceremony -’

‘Oh, I arrive tomorrow. There’ll be days of dinners and events on the run-up, of course. I’m sending you an itinerary now. You must beam over.’ Anatras reached off-screen, and the panel lit up with the notification of an inbound data packet. ‘I’ve already talked to Admiral Beckett.’

Whole new vistas of terror opened up before her. ‘You have?’ Thawn found her voice turned to a squeak.

‘Of course! A union between these families – it’s only appropriate we meet. I’m surprised Nathaniel hasn’t heard from his father about it.’

Nate had mentioned his father being in Alpha Centauri City with the same detached air he might have mentioned that the temperature regulator in his quarters on Endeavour wasn’t working – it was a problem, but a problem for the future. He certainly hadn’t talked about it. She suspected he hadn’t spoken the admiral.

The itinerary unfurled across her screen like a deployment order. ‘Dinner,’ she echoed faintly. ‘The four of us. Splendid.’

‘Not just the four of us, don’t be silly. Representatives from across the Federation are attending. It’s the event of the season, my dear, so of course I need you close by…’

The luxury of spa oils still clung to her skin. The peace of the Port Faran promenade still echoed in her ears. But now, here was Betazoid society, overflowing with obligation and performance – and the undeniable undercurrent of the relationship between Nate and his father she’d never really dug into.

Shore leave, she thought, was over before it had truly begun.