“Does anyone in the galaxy actually like silence?” Mellasitox mused as she tapped out a quiet, irregular rhythm on the top of a nearby crate.

“There is a monastic order on Vulcan who never speak once confirmed.” Sehgali let out a grunt of exertion as she pushed the large grey box into place alongside the other. “And considering that might be a century-long commitment they must be a fan of it.”

“That’s all very well and good on Vulcan but…”

“Still concerned we haven’t had contact with Starfleet?”

“It’s been almost a week since we arrived at the comm relay and they haven’t even acknowledged the message.” Mellasitox cast a wary look over to the wall of crates that hid the small commune of Klingon officers who had taken up residence in the far corner of the cargo bay. “I’d even accept an angry comm message from the Empire at this point.”

Sehgali gave the top of the crate a soft tap, her golden bangles clattering with an atonal cacophony.

“Maksha said that subspace comms are still spotty on account of the interference,” the XO gave a formless grumble of frustration beneath her breath. “It’s possible that they haven’t even received it.”

“That’s not very reassuring.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Sehgali picked up a padd from the nearby console and with a flourish tapped the last tickbox on the long list.

“That’s everything back in its place,” she announced to the assembled crew. “Let’s call it quits for the day, I’ll see you all in the Labyrinth later, ration packs are on me this evening.”

The small team dispersed with the shuffle of weary feet, leaving the pair of senior officers alone, save for the party of Klingons who remained secreted behind their grey wall.

“Have they said anything more?” Sehgali allowed herself to relax atop a nearby container, her face becoming creased and weary as she dismissed the facade she had kept alive for the junior staff.

“After giving us the comm codes for the relay?” Mellasitox slumped down beside her. “No, nothing.”

“I can’t imagine what they’re going through, everyone they knew just… gone.” Sehgali felt her stomach churn at the thought. “It’s almost beyond comprehension.”

“We both know that isn’t true anymore,” Mellasitox whispered. Her heart ached at the familiar pain that she had seen scrawled across the faces of their unexpected passengers, she too had journeyed along the road of loss as a child during the war and then again after Frontier Day. If she was honest she continued the journey daily, with no end in sight.

Sehgali fell mute at the reminder, a pang of foolishness stretching across her chest. Of course it was comprehensible, they had all felt it too often in the last few years.

“I’m sorry Bullwura,” Sehgali mumbled beneath her breath. “I for…”

She paused. Was it true that she had forgotten all the losses they had suffered? Had she become so immune to it, that like forgetting the hum of plasma conduits and the ever-present hiss of air filters, she had forgotten the pain existed.

Perhaps, for a brief moment.

Another pang of heartache reached across the woman’s chest as she felt a warm hand rest of her own at the edge of the crate.

“It’s okay to take a break from the memories Indira.” Mellasitox looked at her with a warm smile.

Her touch, even momentary, was a balm and the ache abated slightly as Sehgali returned her smile in the quiet of the cargo bay. A second turned into a moment and then morphed into minutes as they sat, warmed by each other’s presence. After a brief but intense fling several years ago the pair had agreed to put their romantic feelings aside, an agreement reconfirmed several months past when they had come aboard Daedalus.

‘Just a brief moment, that’s not breaking the rules,’ Sehgali thought to herself as she let herself swim in the captain’s floral perfume. ‘Just a moment.’

A sharp cough interrupted the bliss, causing the pair of women to turn with surprise towards the tall figure of a Klingon woman standing nearby. Her frame was slim and sharp, all acute angles and unyielding lines, like a sharpened blade given life.

“Was I interrupting?” She chimed in a voice as sharp as crystal-cut glass, causing both parties to withdraw their hands.

“Not at all…” Sehgali paused as she locked eyes with the sharp-edged woman, suddenly her name escaped her. She rifled through the orchard of her mind, plucking names from boughs of her memory. Adrina? Astira? Anima?  Her confusion spread across her brow unsubtly causing the tall Klingon to raise a slightly offended eyebrow.

“Lieutenant Ad’Nia.” Mellasitox interrupted, drawing herself upwards to her full height with one smooth motion, inserting herself between the awkward pause. “How can we help?”

“Have you finally made a choice about our next steps?” Her voice dripped with barely concealed frustration.

Mellasitox remained stoic as she adjusted her uniform.

“We’re waiting for instructions from Starfleet.”

“They are clearly not coming. We should proceed on a different path,” Ad’Nia scowled from behind her dark eyes, a cruel twist of her lips revealing a row of sharp white teeth.

“We don’t know that, they may be struggling to send a return message,” Mellasitox allowed a weary sigh to escape her lips. The Klingons were guests, but ones who could make life difficult on the small ship if they kicked up a fuss.

“Starfleet protocol is to shelter in place,” Sehgali added from the crate.

“Wait and wait, that is all Starfleet ever seems to do.” Ad’Nia flashed another glint of teeth as she threw her hands in the air disparagingly.

“I don’t see the Empire sending any messages either.” Mellasitox bared her own teeth momentarily.

Ad’Nia grinned visibly, like a predatory cat her visage was carnivorous and lethal.

“Toral’s message is more likely to come at the tip of a blade than via a subspace missive,” she paused, savouring the woman’s attempts at bravado. “You would likely not survive any answer he would care to give.”

“It doesn’t seem very polite to make threats in another woman’s house.”

“A threat can be false.” Ad’Nia hovered inches from the captain’s face. “I have no doubt what the Chancellor’s instructions would be regarding a disabled Federation ship in Klingon space.”

“We’re not in Klingon space.”

“Maybe we should be,” Sehgali offered, as an idea lept into her thoughts.

Both women snapped their heads towards the weary commander.

“What if we set a course for the outpost nearby?” Sehgali offered as she took a step to the nearby console and summoned up an astrometric map. “This outpost here, it’s approximately 4.8 lightyears away.”

“Chomang Base, it is mostly a mining operation. But it also serves as a  resupply station for our deep space excursions.” Ad’Nia pressed the screen with a dagger-like digit, causing the red triangle to glow as a small pop-out box of information appeared alongside the main screen. “It does have substantial long-term supplies and is mostly self-sustaining.”

“Even at maximum impulse that’s a journey of decades Indira,”  Mellasitox gave the commander a confused look.

“In her last update, Sima said they had seen some success in creating warp bubbles for a few seconds. The difficulty would be sustaining them.” Sehgali turned to the pair of women with wide eyes. “What if we didn’t sustain them, what if we just…”

“…hopped,” The captain finished as Sehgali did a minute jump on the spot.

“Hopping?” Ad’Nia let out a derisive snort.

“The other option is that we make for the fourth planet in the system. It’s L class, barely habitable but we could set down on the surface, conserve our resources and wait for someone to come.” Sehgali shrugged, neither option seemed particularly appealing.

“No one is coming.” The frustrated Klingon repeated with a barely contained snarl.

“Then Chomang?” Mellasitox asked. “How long would the journey be?”

“Weeks possibly? The only other option is to wait and hope someone is coming?” Sehgali dismissed the star map, the responsibility of choice was unenviable.

The captain chewed her cheek as the two women looked back at her, the icy stare of Ad’Nia thawed slightly by the warm head tilt of her XO. The list of conns was significantly longer than the pros. If they went too far from the comm relay, the subspace interference would mean they might be missed by any long-range scan from prospective rescuers. If they had any engineering or mechanical issues they would be left adrift without the ability to call for help. And if they had an accident attempting the warp hop, they could be cast into dust on the solar winds.

But perhaps Ad’Nia was right, perhaps no one was coming. Perhaps they did not know.

“If we get to Chomang, are we likely to find any friendly faces?”

It was Ad’Nia’s turn to offer an unconfident shrug of her razor shoulders.

“I cannot promise they will be friendly but you will have my word that you saved us from the wreck of the Ho’Nang. That may buy you a little favour.”

“There isn’t much of a choice is there?”

“If you choose to land on the planet, my people and I will take a shuttle and attempt this hopping ourselves.” Ad’Nia waved an arm dismissively to the women “We would rather do something than nothing.”

“You’d take six Klingon warriors in a type-9 shuttle on a journey of several weeks?” Mellasitox gave the Klingon a disbelieving look. “That would be awful and risky.”

“Suffering is good for the soul,” Ad’Nia stated with stoic resignation.

“Well, you’ll have to continue to suffer with us. Indira, have Maksha start plotting a path, we’ll start the jumps as soon as Sima feels she’s ready.”

“We have engineers that can help.” Ad’Nia summarily turned and walked away from the pair towards their small commune. “We will ensure success.”

“What about the comm relay?” Indira whispered as the Klingon stepped out of earshot.

“Prepare a records buoy, include all records as well as the plan. If help does turn up, they’ll know where we’re headed.” Mellasitox reached to take Sehgali’s hand once again but faltered, their duty pushing its way between the two women’s possible bliss once again.

“We will get out of this Indira.”

“I want to believe that Bullwura. I really do.” Sehgali offered the captain a weary nod before turning towards the large bay doors, leaving Mellasitox alone in the uncomfortable silence.