The IKS Y’tem’s cloak dropped, it’s hull glinting with the light from the star at the centre of the Caelari system.

The viewscreen at the front of the Klingon bridge flickered to reveal a Starfleet officer, a male Human in a command red uniform. One of the first things L’rena noticed was his deep blue eyes, and a scar at the corner of his mouth.

The human began to speak, “This is Captain Jorik Traven of the USS San Clemente to the IKS Y’tem. We greet you in the spirit of joint exploration and mutual security. Our orders are to assist you in responding to the unusual subspace activity in the system. Captain L’rena, if I’m not mistaken?”

L’rena leaned back in her command chair and inclined her head. “You are not mistaken, Captain Traven. Though we are surprised to see you here.” She continued “we accept your greeting, and offer one in return.”

The human smiled but before he could speak again, L’rena continued “We, have conducted a primary survey of the system, we were about to make contact with the inhabitants. But it seems you may have gotten their attention.”

Traven nodded, “it seems so captain, my apologies, we expected you to have made contact already. Let us avoid the part where we pretend to dislike each other, we are eager to work alongside you.”

L’rena was about to reply with something dry to keep the Starfleet captain in his place when a new communication signal was received by both vessels, something that sounded musical but urgent.

“Traffic control at Varanesh to any capable vessels.”

L’rena looked toward Hoban, that was all he needed to understand what his Captain wanted to happen. The view shifted, now split down the middle with one half being the Starfleet Captain and the other revealing a humanoid in a wash of pearly light. Their skin gave off a faint opalescence. Behind them was a wall of chimes, they seemed to play a music of some kind but it did not seem in tune.

The humanoid continued to speak but in broken words, “pilgrim convoy in the halo, guidance corrupted, many vessels. We require immediate assistance. Please respond.”

Neither Captain needed to look at one another, both knew that whatever their differences were both would equally respond.

“Tal’kor,” L’rena barked to her first officer, prepare for rescue operations, Hoban get us to the edge of the Halo and hold position. Trang, get every sensor on those ships now!”

The three Klingon officers grunted replies as one.

On the bridge of the USS San Clemente Cdr. T’Lenar was stood beside the helm. “Lt. Kree, set a course for the vessels, maintain four thousand meters lateral to the Y’tem. Let us not collide with our allies.”

“Four thousand meters, aye” Arven Kree replied, already inputting commands into the helm.

Captain Traven wouldn’t sit, he paced across the bridge, watching as his senior staff individually prepared their stations. He noticed crimson icons appearing on the science consoles display. “Science, talk to me.”

Rima Saell, the Mente’s chief science officer, was in the process of adjusting the overlay. “The dust halo is interacting with low frequency subspace emissions. Readings indicate their navigations systems are locking onto false harmonics.”

“False harmonics?” Traven repeated.

Sora Venn, the ships counsellor, had her eyes half closed and head tilted as if listening. “There’s a structure to the emissions,” she interrupted. “Not a language, a tempo, Captain. Like a door held open.”

“Engineering” Traven said, tapping his comm badge. “I want the tractor beam ready to work overtime on this one, ensure emergency power is ready in case. Brunak, this is your show.”

A simple “aye” was all the Captain got in return from the Tellarite engineer.

Dr Reyna Palor hailed from sickbay. “Triage corridors are prepared, Captain, the dust carries particulates we don’t fully understand, we’ve not yet had change run initial scans. We need to ensure all who come aboard remain in quarantine prior to transporting onward.”

Traven acknowledged Paldor while nodding toward his First officer, T’Lenar immediately started to liaise with the medical staff.

Traven was transfixed by the viewscreen, the dust halo now in view looming like a grey sea that old men would warm him about. The sort that people would sail and not return. Some larger rocks were visible too and within it all, the first vessels came into view. Tiny running lights blinking as they rocked. The Y’tem slid into view, sleek and purposeful, its impulse engines flaring.

“Joint channel established with the Y’tem” T’Lenar reported.

“Put us through,” said Traven.

L’rena appeared back on the viewscreen in a smaller insert. “We will cut away any debris in your vector” she said, “don’t worry Starfleet, we’ll not blast across your bows”

“Appreciated,” Traven replied. “we’ll find a safe channel and tractor the vessels and beam any survivors off the worst hit. Counsellor Venn believes the guidance corruption is rhythmic, My science team is building a counter-pattern.”

“Music?” L’rena said with an amused look. “My grandmother used to say that the heard is a drum that you can hear from a battlefield away.”

“Then we’ll do our best to keep the beats together.” replied Traven as the dust ahead of the vessels seemed to surge and swallow the stars.

“The Patten is online, Captain” Saell said, turning from the science station toward Traven still stood at the centre of his bridge.

Kree’s hands moved quickly across the helm, the San Clemente drifting left and right, through the dust. Tractor beams activated, nudging the small vessels away from danger.

On the Y’tem, Trang hissed at his console as he scanned the dust cloud, picking up multiple targets that threatened the convoy. “Sending target telemetry to tactical, ”  he said.

“Do it!” L’rena ordered. “Tal’kor, keep fire away from the Starfleet vessel, we do not want them to think we’re careless.”

Tal’kor barred his teeth, pleased that he’ll get to show off the fangs of the Y’tem. “Aye, Captain.”

Hoban swung the aged vessel around, as though it was fresh from the shipyards. Small puffs of light within the dust cloud ahead of the pilgrim vessels.

On the bridge of the San Clemente the senior staff watched as the first three small vessels reached safety, the firsts thrusters steading itself.

“Starfleet vessel” came a voice over the comm system, “we see the path you have set for us, we will follow.”

“Stay on the path,” T’Lenar said calmly. “we will guide you back to a safe orbit.”

“Thank you,” whispered another voice, “is the radiance angry with us?”

Before Traven could answer, a warning alarm came from the science station. Saell quickly reacting to the noise. “One of the barges is accelerating back toward the dust”

Kree, watching the vessels thrusters activate randomly, “They look like they’re panicking, Captain”

“Sh’rol, ready an away team” Traven said quickly. “T’lenar, hail them.”

The small vessel jerked again, it’s thrusters flaring.

L’rena’s voice cut in through the open communications, “San Clemente, escort the vessels to safety. We are more manoeuvrable, we can intercept the stray vessel and pull the ship free.”

“Understood, Captain. Good hunting.” Traven responded

On the Klingon viewscreen the dust became a storm. Hoban increased power to the engines, increasing the vessels speed curving to intercept the pilgrims.”

“hold her stead” L’rena said softly, The Y’tem swung passed the vessels bow and matched the vector as it tumbles through space.

Tal’kor engaged the ships tractor beam as they matched, “we have her,” he said barring his fangs. The senior staff all feeling their hearts beating faster as they caught their prey. The barge’s thrusters still fought against the tractor beam.

“Tal’kor, get over there and get them under control.” L’rena ordered

“My security officer will meet him on board” Traven said, still listening on open comms.

L’rena grunted in acknowledgement, she considered telling Starfleet where they could beam their officers but she could see that this was an opportunity for a greater victory, together with their new allies.

A moment later, two pattens sparkled on board the cramped pilgrim barge. The smell of fear first hit Tal’kor as he appeared in his crimson and black armour, Sh’rol appearing beside him his antennae slicked back.

A Caelarian stood in the archway, long pale hair, feminine features, with light silvery eyes. She had a relic clasped to her chest. Smaller Caelarians stood behind, both officers assuming that they were children. “We cannot land an Caelari Prime,” she said, before either officer could speak. “Please, there will be questions, we…. There are…. New sermons from Orran. They will call it heresy, please.”

Sh’rol and Tal’kor looked to one another. Sh’rol spoke first “we will not deliver you to harm,” he said gently. “But first, we must get your thrusters back online.”

The elders silver eyes filled with tears and she stepped aside. Tal’kor’s Klingon frame towered over the smaller Caelarians. He bent down to speak to them.”

“Hello, small one. We’re going to make your ship safe, sound good?”

The child’s knuckles loosened on the others sleeve. “is the radiance angry at us?” he asked.

“I don’t know what the Radiance is” Tal’kor replied, “but something isn’t right and we’re going to get things working again.”

The child considered what the giant Klingon said, confused as to why he didn’t know what the Radiance is, but didn’t think someone so large could lie and nodded.

Back on the bridge of the Mente Sora continued to ‘listen’ with her eyes closed. She tilted her head, there was something at the edge of hearing. As if something was listening to them,

“Captain,” she said, “there’s a strong focus on the barge, something feels interested.”

“interested?” he replied “not hostile?”

“I do not think so Captain, it feels old, like its been listening for a long time”

On the barge, Sh’rol’s few engineering lessons at the Academy paid off. Not that this technology looked anything like Starfleet’s but the thrusters calmed. The barge, finally now under its own power moving away from the dust.

It took an hour for the convoy to completely move to safety. The San Clemente leading the small vessels out of danger, the Y’tem clearing anything our of their paths.

As the last cluster of small craft passed the Halo’s edge, both crews breathed in unison.

“Casualties?” Traven asked

“Minor,” T’Lenor said, “Dr Paldor reports state that it’s mostly Deydration, anxiety reactions, no major injuries reported.”

She tapped the console on her first officers chair, “we have had requests that some vessels avoid Caelari Prime and continue to Orran.”

“Thank you, commander. Hail traffic control at Varanesh, patch in Captain L’rena too” Traven replied.

The viewscreen flickered and showed traffic control on the planet below once more, the chimes behind now sounding more in tune with one another. “Honoured Outsiders” said the controller “your aid is a lantern in the darkness. By edict of the communion of light, we request all pilgrims be guided to Varanesh for inspection and blessing.”

Traven stood for a moment in silence, thinking. On the screen he could see L’rena lean forward to speak and she did so before he could respond.

“Caelari Control, this is the Captain L’rena of the Klingon Empire, some of your…. Pilgrims are requested a different path, to Orran, not Varanesh.”

“inspection is required,” the controller replied, though, still polite.

Sh’rol’s report was still open on Traven’s arm rest, the plea from the stricken vessel. He read it as the controller spoke, then lifted his eyes to the viewscreen.

“Varanesh,” Traven said, “my Doctor requests further time for medical screening and stabilisation of the pilgrims. We need to hold the convoy in high orbit for 12 hours. This will give you time to prepare to receive the pilgrims and any casualties.”

The was a long pause before the controller spoke again, the sound of bells increased in the background, “Accepted” they replied.

“San Clemente out,” Traven said, the switched the secure joint channel for the Y’tem. “Captain L’rena, thank you for your steadiness out there.”

“We fought together against the storm, it was a good day!” she replied.

“Before we both scatter to our logs, lets settle how we avoid stepping on one another’s boots in front of the locals, a charter if you will.”

“Protocol,” L’rena said “I was just starting to like you Starfleet. Go on speak your promises.”

They gathered together on board the USS San Clemente and within the conference room drafted the ‘Caelari Joint Operating Picture’. Twenty practical lines covering everything from science to diplomacy.

Just after signing, the Mente was signalled again by Caelari Prime. Traven asking for the communication to be taken in the conference room. The Starfleet symbol dissolving into the now familiar view of the dias in Varanesh. Though this time, the controller was not alone. Three figures in robes were with them, representatives of the Communion of Light.

The centre priest voice was low and his voice sounded like a blessing. “Honoured visitors,” he said, “the Communion thanks you for the assistance you have provided our people. As our fathers and mothers did in ages past, we open our gates. Join us as honoured guests.”

Traven looked to L’rena and nodded. L’rena took the lead “on behalf of the Klingon Empire and the United Federation of Planets, I accept your invitation.”

The communication cut abruptly once she did so, she was pleased that Traven had seen the value in her and her crew. They may be a smaller vessel but clearly, he respected her authority.

In the counsellors office on the San Clemente, Sora sat alone for a moment. Her eyes closed and she listened as she did before. The old presence was stronger but she could not hear it clearly. She reached out with her mind and gently said out loud “we see you.”

The pressure she felt did not withdraw, it acknowledged, and then waited.

Through the hours that followed, shuttles from the Mente trafficked med-teams and supplies to and from the vessels in orbit. The Y’tem stuck by, like a guard dog looking after it’s flock.

In the Mente’s shuttle bay, Tal’kor and Sh’rol shook hands in from of a line of pilgrims, they left one another like warriors who’d faced off an enemy and built a deep bond in the process.

In the main sickbay, Dr Paldor convinced a proud Caelarian farmer from Tiryn to drink water by drinking it first. He did so and so did his children. He promised he would teach her to bake Tiryn oat cakes when the radiance was calm again. She said it sounded like a contract.

In a quiet alcove, Sora spoke to a child from the barge, the once who had asked whether the Radiance was angry. He sat with a relic on his lap and held it tightly.

“Sometimes,” Sora said, “when I hear a loud song, it makes my head hurt, do you ever get that feeling?”

The child nodded slowly, “when the spires were bright, some nights I could not sleep. I heard the priests tell my parents that it was because I was blessed.”

“what do you think?” Sora asked

He thought about it quietly for a moment. “The song didn’t care whether I was awake or asleep,” he replied.

“Will you come with us to Varanesh?” he asked, “they will want to bless you as well.”

“of course,” sora promised.

He grinned, and his silver eyes smiled.

When the last quarantined Caelarian was clear and the sensors showed the Halo behaving itself again the captains of the two vessels met again over secure comms.

“Your engineers work fast” L’rena said

“I don’t know if it’s fast or they’re just cheating their way past protocol” he replied.

“There is great honour in good results” L’rena said with a smile.,

“tomorrow,” Traven said “we go to Varanesh.”

“tomorrow, Starfleet” L’rena agreed, “we will go with open hands and blades sheathed…. For now.”

Traven nodded and cut off communications. The link between the two vessels closed, each captain sitting quietly for a moment.

Traven walked out onto the bridge, T’lenar stood and Traven caught her eye. “The charter that we agreed with the Klingons, send them a copy with something that doesn’t insult Klingon taste.”

“Prune Juice?” the Vulcan replied, with what could have been mistaken for humour,

“Maybe something that doesn’t result in war” Traven laughed.