The IKS Y’tem held it’s station at the edge of the Caelari System, it’s engines running at low power and it’s hull catching the last glow of the Caelari sun. The three planets in the system turned with a steady rhythm, the Spires calm and no longer objects of fear or unquestioned reverence.

On the Y’tem’s bridge Captain L’rena stood at the rail hands clasped behind her back.

“We leave behind no banners,” she said.

Stood to her side, Tal’kor, her first officer inclined his head. “Yet, Captain, our presence here will be remembered.”

“Indeed,” she replied, “which is a victory in itself!”

Hoban turned from his station at the helm, “Captain,” he said, “The USS San Clemente is hailing us.”

L’rena nodded and gestured toward the viewscreen, “put them through,” she replied.

The view of the starfield in front of them changed the bridge of the Starfleet vessel. Commander Traven, Captain of the Mente at its centre.

“Captain L’rena,” he began “on behalf of my crew I wish you clear passage and strong fortune beyond the Caelari System. It has been my honour to serve alongside you and the Y’tem.”

L’rena met his gaze on the screen. “Your crew stood alongside us where others would have drawn weapons,” she replied. “You kept order without denying dignity. Should our paths cross again I would welcome it,”

Traven smiled and nodded once, “as would I, the Caelari will remember both our vessels and crews and what we achieved here.”

“Then out work here is done,” she said.

The communication ended, there was no need for more to be said. L’rena turned her back to the forward viewscreen as it changed back to the starfield. Around her the bridge crew resumed their duties.

“Transmit out departure,” she ordered.

The signal from the Y’tem carrying a final message “May your path be chosen, not inherited.”

“Kahless taught us that honour is proven through struggle,” she said out loud. “The Caelari has reminded us that it is also proven through restraint.”

Tal’kor looked around the bridge, “heed this, not all warriors learn this lesson.” He said.

“In which case,” L’rena continued, “they will never understand what it means to become a true Klingon Warrior.”

She looked back at the viewscreen at the front of the bridge, seeing the uncharted stars of the Shackleton Expanse ahead of her vessel.

“Helm” she said simply.

“Course plotted” came Hoban’s reply, “Beyond Caelari.”

L’rena sat in the command chair and pointed at the screen, “Engage.”

The IKS Y’tem’s engines flared, and she surged forward, leaving the lantern light, the spires and the living water behind them. She carried no trophies, no conquered worlds, only memory disciple and honour.

Ahead lay the darkness and the work of warriors yet to be done.