Her door chimed, the backup measure for when Maya was down for maintenance. She signaled for the door to open. It did. The ship’s autonomic functions operated just fine. Stacia began a checklist of functions to evaluate before the figure in her entranceway fully absorbed her attention. Dina stood in there wearing her off-duty attire. Clad in a velour kaftan, she was barefoot, her toes painted metallic gold, matching her earrings and rings. “I see you, Stacia.”

“I … see you, Dina.” Leaning against the frame, Stacia half blocked the doorway. “I was about to call you.”

Part of her luxuriated in the energy of the moment. Feeling desired, desiring, the tentative edge of flirting. The heady unknown of a young relationship sprouting uncertain what brand of friendship it might generate. Stacia allowed herself the moment.

In the end, Stacia succumbed to the physics of weak relationships. Weak nuclear forces were one of the half dozen forces controlling the known, visible universe. The mechanism of interaction between subatomic particles responsible for the radioactive decay of atoms; the noncontact force fields governed how the universe worked at low energies. She was at low energy, and Dina was a weak tie. Not very close with each other. An acquaintance. Someone she was familiar with rather than knew. She wondered if beyond Yahya (and Amachi), she had anyone whom she was close to rather than just cordial with. Like all weak ties, Dina wasn’t really in her circle but traveled enough in them that diffuse information passed back and forth. An expanded relational network as powerful as any other, without the complication of intimacy. Weak forces made powerful connections in their own way.

“I was…” Whatever projection of herself Dina had wanted to display collapsed upon itself with a suddenness she wasn’t prepared for. She held the portrait of herself together for several heartbeats before the cracks crept in around the edges of her face. A tidal wave of emotions crashing against the seawalls of her heart, leaving further fractures. She choked on her next words, halting, racking sobs. She reached out to grab the wall for support so as to not collapse in the hallway.

“What is it?” Stacia rushed to catch her, though Dina recovered all on her own.

“May I come in?”

“Yes.” Stacia ushered her inside and fashioned a seat for her before attending her synth chamber to pour them both drinks. Leaning forward on her couch, she took Dina’s hands. She doubted the woman even realized how much they were shaking. Stacia spoke softly. “Take a breath.”

“I think I just needed someone to talk to.” Slowly calming down, Dina’s face softened in the light, her expression open and tender. Perhaps mirroring something in Stacia.

“About…?”

“Hondo. He’s been acting strange lately.”

Stacia almost reflexively made a joke about the word lately, but the pain registering on Dina’s face quelled all snide humor. Stacia knew she’d have to take it easy on her. “How do you mean?”