Navarre grimaced sharply as he stared at the disruptions on the main view screen; caused by rapid static bursts. He was well aware of the instability of this region and what it did to sensors and visual instruments. He had memorized this region from several previous visits with his father, who had insisted he take everything to memory. They were cherished memories, just the two of them aboard a small scout ship far from the troubles of his heritage and Klingon beliefs. They had taken on the challenge of this formidable region together; Father and son, and had defeated it. "I remember, Father." He muttered softly as to someone who was there with him. He nudged his ships engine controls down to a mere crawl and waited. It would take a bit longer, but his ship and its burden were somewhat larger than a scout shuttle.