On their first full day at Starbase 93, everything felt a bit chaotic but purposeful. The Vallejo’s hallways, normally echoing with the steady steps of officers, buzzed with engineers and technicians at work. Upgrades were happening everywhere, with systems open and being improved. For the crew, it was shore leave—a short break before their next adventure.
In the quiet sanctuary of their quarters, Erovan S’rrel and Victor Holt stood amidst a sea of packing crates. Their personal belongings, once carefully arranged to create a home, were now being sorted, labeled, and prepared for their separate journeys. The room felt larger, emptier, already stripped of the warmth that had made it their shared space.
“I’ve been thinking,” Victor said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He turned from the stack of data PADDs he was organizing, his expression thoughtful. “The Helix’s patrol route brings it near the Expanse every six months. The Asheville will be in port around the same time.”
Erovan paused in his task of folding his uniform, his ears perking up slightly. “You think we could coordinate shore leave?”
Victor crossed the room to stand beside him, his voice low and conspiratorial. “I’ve already checked the schedules. There’s a three-day window where we could both meet at Starbase 86. The Helix stops for resupply and crew rotation, and the Asheville has a scheduled layover for stellar cartography recalibration.”
Erovan’s tail began to sway, a slow, hopeful rhythm against his leg. “Three days every six months? That’s not much.”
“It’s something,” Victor replied, reaching out to take Erovan’s hand. “And we can communicate daily when possible. Long-distance relationships work, Erovan.”
“I know,” Erovan sighed, leaning into Victor’s touch. “It’s just… the Helix will be near the Romulan border. It’s still a volatile region. The risk of…”
“Don’t,” Victor interrupted gently, his thumb stroking the back of Erovan’s hand. “Don’t go there. We knew the risks when we signed up for Starfleet. We can’t let the ‘what ifs’ poison the time we do have.”
Erovan nodded, his gaze dropping to their joined hands. “You’re right. It’s just… hard not to worry.”
“Then worry together,” Victor suggested, pulling him into a gentle embrace. “Tell me your fears. Let me carry them with you.”
Erovan buried his face in the crook of Victor’s neck, his purr a low, rumbling vibration against his partner’s skin. “I’m afraid of forgetting the sound of your voice. Of waking up in the middle of the night and you not being there. Of… us growing apart.”
Victor held him tighter, his own voice thick with emotion. “I’m afraid of the same things. But I know us, Erovan. We’re stronger than that. What we have… It’s not something that can be broken by a few light-years of distance.”
Erovan pulled back slightly, his bluish eyes searching Victor’s face. “Do you really believe that?”
“With all my heart,” Victor replied, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. “Now, I have something for you.”
He crossed to their desk, picking up a small, intricately carved wooden box. He opened it, revealing a pair of matching pendants, each carved from a dark, swirling wood and shaped like a stylized star.
“I made these,” Victor said softly, lifting one from the box. “It’s from the wood of the tree on Betazed where we had our first shore leave together. I infused the grain with a microscopic resonator. It’s tuned to a unique subspace frequency. When you activate it,” he explained, tapping a small indentation on the pendant, “it emits a low-level signal. The other one will vibrate, just a little. So you’ll know when I’m thinking of you.” He hesitated, then added, “Subspace resonators like these are used throughout Starfleet for short-range, instantaneous signaling. They’re safe, discreet, and the frequency is encrypted—no one else can intercept it. Think of it as a private conversation, but wordless, only between us.”
Erovan’s eyes widened, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns on the pendant. “Victor… It’s beautiful.”
“They’re linked,” Victor continued, lifting the other pendant. “So no matter how far apart we are, we’ll always be connected. A tangible reminder of what we have.”
Erovan took the pendant, his touch reverent. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll wear it,” Victor replied, his voice soft. “Say you’ll think of me when you feel it vibrate.”
“Always,” Erovan promised, his voice thick with emotion.
He fastened the pendant around his neck, the smooth wood warm against his fur. Victor did the same, the two stars now a visible symbol of their invisible bond.
“I have something for you, too,” Erovan said, a shy smile touching his lips. He crossed to their bed, retrieving a small, flat package from his nightstand. He handed it to Victor.
Victor unwrapped it carefully, revealing a framed holo-image. It was of the two of them, taken on the observation deck during their first mission aboard the Vallejo. They were laughing, their heads close together, the stars of the Argolis Cluster a dazzling backdrop.
“I had the chief engineer enhance it,” Erovan explained. “It’s coded to my biometrics. It will only project for me, or for you. No one else can access it.”
Victor’s fingers traced the image, a smile touching his lips. “I remember this day. You were trying to explain the intricacies of Caitian hunting rituals, and I was trying to explain the concept of a black hole to you.”
“We were both terrible at it,” Erovan laughed, the sound light and free.
“But we were together,” Victor replied, his gaze soft as he looked at Erovan. “That’s all that matters.”
They stood there for a long time, in the quiet of their quarters, surrounded by the remnants of their life together. The packing could wait. The goodbyes could wait. For now, in this moment, they had each other. And as the stars of Starbase 93 glittered outside their viewport, they held each other close, a silent promise to cherish the time they had left, and to hold onto the hope of the time they would have again. The future was uncertain, a vast, uncharted expanse of space and time. But their love was a constant, a fixed point in the ever-shifting cosmos.
