Lieutenant al-Kwaritzmi’s log: we have arrived in the ch’Thyneal star system. I do confess that travelling through the Underspace a second time has been nerve-wrecking, especially for the Romulans and for me, but we have not encountered any temporal anomaly and have emerged a good chunk of the galaxy away from where we had entered. It is my first time in Romulan space, although it being the Romulan Republic does soothe my nerves. But now it is almost time for our seventeen Romulan guests to leave us — leaving me, again, emotionally drained. Is one month of living together enough to really fall in love with someone?

Through the viewing window, the planet of ch’Thyneal had been steadily growing in size: if has almost an aquamarine hue, clad in beautiful white clouds, peaceful and mysterious. A lonely space station, sharp and dark green, was to be seen in orbit: there was almost no Romulan vessels to be seen; however there were several alien crafts of designs that Iskander couldn’t recognize — possibly minor peoples of the Romulan Republic on trading assignments — and even another Starfleet ship: from the look of it, an Echelon-class support cruiser, surely also just arrived through the Underspace, on some mission hat Iskander ignored the nature of.

“Not many Romulan ships” commented the human.

“They’re probably cloaked” remarked Dhae, next to him.

To look at the scene, Iskander had come to Dhae’s quarters — they had, after all, a much better view than his, since the Romulans had been accommodated in the diplomatic section of the ship. The two men sat on the sofa, looking outside. They had barely spoken, but Dhae had managed to eat his small tray of Betazoid delicacies.

“We’re going to beam you out soon” said Iskander, dryly.

“You are” confirmed Dhae. After a couple of days of wearing civilian clothing — or not wearing much — he had now donned his Romulan uniform.

Iskander offered him his hand. Dhae took it and squeezed it softly.

“You told me your name” said Iskander.

Dhae peered at him and took his time before giving an answer.

“Oh — you heard? Everyone was screaming.”

“I might not have understood it exactly. I asked one of your shipmates what the significance of Romulan names is. Is there… more than one?”

Dhae looked out at the planet. “There is only one tradition relating to the revealing of the true name, Iskander. Not all Romulans follow it, but I’m sure that my shipmate reported on it correctly.”

“I see. So you –“

“In my defense, I really thought we were about to die. I didn’t think the Redding would tow us.”

Iskander sighed. “Do you really feel the need to defend yourself?”

Dhae thought about it. “Maybe. I feel the instinct. I am exposed, Iskander, and in front of a human.”

Iskander sighed. “I love you too, you big Romulan. But what are we going to do? We are being scattered at the two ends of the galaxy.”

Dhae shrugged. “You have read Rh’Thator’s Service in Shadows, haven’t you?”

Dhae had given Iskander many classical Romulan books. That one in particular concerned a couple of star-crossed lovers who pour their love for each other into the service of the state. At the end they all died. “I’m not ready for a relationship like that.”

Iskander had not yet mentioned how he had heard that Dhae would probably be expelled for having broken several rules, mostly on his behalf. But he didn’t know how to broach the topic without sounding like he wished that was the case as it would free Dhae to move to Federation space or something like that. He felt bad for secretly hoping that Dhae would lose his career, and felt bad for assuming that it would be easier for Dhae to uproot his existence for their relationship, and felt shame at not being able to discuss the thing in a mature way. But was there a mature way to say “I’d love it for you to lose your job so that you can come with me”? And what would Dhae do on the Redding? Cook?

Iskander had counted on discussing his feelings until Dhae was called to the transporter room, but someone rang the door.

Dhae looked quizzical. “I doubt it’s my shipmates. I am currently not popular.”

“It might be Diran.” Iskander hadn’t been able to hide his budding relationship from Diran Koli, not only a good friend but also an empath, and the Betazoid had tried to bond a bit with Dhae with scarce results but lively enthusiasm.

Dhae nodded. “Enter.”

Lieutenant Commander Therese Siouinon made her unexpected entrance. The chief science officer looked as irritated as she always did, but finding Iskander there seemed to surprise her for a moment.

“Sublieutenant Dhae” she said, careful. “Am I interrupting something?”

“That is an odd human expression” replied Dhae, keeping his place on the sofa. “Must you leave if I confirm that you did?”

She scratched her big nose. “It would be conventional. We humans, when we are open to the interruption, prefer lying and claim that nothing has been interrupted.”

Iskander couldn’t really stand the weird discussion. “Please, Commander, I’m sure you have something important.”

Commander Siouinon smiled tersely. “Something self-interested more than important. I am told, Sublieutenant, that you are likely to be expelled from the Republican Navy.”

Somehow Iskander was both shocked and glad that Commander Siouinon would come up with the topic.

“I prefer not to speculate” answered Dhae, perfectly neutral in his tone.

“You were the person to come up with the idea of a tachyon field. I reviewed the calculations that you shared with us to convince us and I found them impressive. Am I correct in thinking that your background is in supernovae physics?”

That seemed to surprise Dhae. “How did you acquire this information?”

Commander Siouinon sat on the sofa opposite to the one where Iskander and Dhae were sitting. Iskander wondered whether he should remove his hand, but Dhae’s grip was warm and undoubting.

“The calculation. You used a Siltilpan field annahme to model the Underspace — it is exceedingly rare to find Siltilpan calculus outside of supernovae physics, as far as I know. A very creative solution to modelling the strong-force field of the Underspace, if I may say so myself. It shows creativity and flair for the unexpected.”

Iskander couldn’t believe it. He hadn’t very often heard Commander Siouinon being so appreciative of someone. She usually praised people in a dour tone.

Dhae seemed pleased. “I — well, I am grateful for your appreciation of my mathematics.”

Something caught Iskander’s eye: the orange flash of the Underspace, out of the window. In the distance, the Underspace was opening and closing. Iskander couldn’t see any ship emerging.

Siouinon was staring at Dhae. “The Romulan Republic being an ally of the Federation, we do have officer exchange schemes. From your understanding of your superiors, would they feel inclined to consider that to be an alternative to an expulsion from active service?”

Dhae raised his eyebrows. “Commander, this is –“

“Klingon” said Iskander.

Dhae furrowed his brow. “That’s not the word I’d use.”

“No! I mean — Klingons!” repeated Iskander with urgence, pointing out of the viewing window.

Freshly emerged from the Undercroft, a Klingon fleet was uncloaking. The yellow alert started blaring.