“Please accept my personal regrets that the K’ritz Sovran must refuse your request, Captain Taes,” said Ambassador Rylgeen.

Nova could see no indication of those supposed regrets. Rylgeen must have been hiding them terribly well.

Lieutenant Nova DeVoglaer looked up from her PADD to regard Rylgeen with greater attention. Given her shoulders back and cheekbones high, Rylgeen’s bearing remained proud, and her form of speech maintained a metallic edge. The only hint of discomfort came when she took two steps closer to Captain Tes. The restrictive nature of Rylgeen’s cocoon-like gown limited her stride to a demure shuffle.

After nodding at Taes again, Rylgeen spread her arms wide in a welcoming gesture. Her arms sparkled under the effervescent lighting of the reception hall, highlighting the night-imperceptible chitinous plates that shimmered in mottled blues across her exposed skin.

“We invite you to avail yourself of our hospitality for as long as you like,” Rylgeen said magnanimously. “Perhaps for as many as… three hours.”

Although Rylgeen was easily a foot taller than Taes, Taes maintained a captivating presence in the richer crimson and deeper black of her dress uniform. Her beatific expression never flinched when Rylgeen denied her request and threw in a parting blow to boot.

“On behalf of my crew and the United Federation of Planets, I deeply appreciate your people’s hospitality. I offer you my personal thanks, too, ambassador,” Taes said. As a well-appointed server approached, Taes accepted a twisted glass flute filled with a fizzy beverage.

When Nova met Captain Taes a year ago, Taes was a different Deltan. In those early days, Taes’s body language betrayed every little feeling or whim. Her face would settle into a sneer when she thought no one was looking. All the same, Nova had craved those sneers because, at least, it was a sign of life. Taes had been withdrawn, withholding herself from the crew. Something had happened to Taes the last time they explored the Delta Quadrant, but none of the crew were talking about it.

Today’s Taes looked far more in control of her body and faculties.  More present. She had shaken off the haunted expression that plagued her for so long.

After sipping from the glass, Taes remarked, “Between us, I must admit my personal wonder at your rejection, ambassador. My Constellation Squadron passes through your space on a mission of peaceful exploration. As squadron commander, I bear responsibility for nearly two thousand beings. Your celebrated star charts would enable us to securely respect all territories and borders in this region as we travel through. I expect much has changed since Starfleet first contacted your government.”

Through it all, Constellation Squadron remained in sight through the tall viewports behind Taes, beyond the bulkheads of the K’ritz’s Velthaar space station.  The four starships hung in space in a loose diamond formation.  The Constitution III-class explorer, Constellation, held the forward point. The proportions of her proud saucer harkened back to the starships of Nova’s youth, before she’d become lost in temporal stasis for 140 years. The Defiant-class escort, Meridian, and the Duderstadt-class scout cruiser, Minerva, flanked the squadron’s flagship. The Sutherland-class research cruiser, Almagest, took the rear, a veritable starbase in space, brimming with scientific equipment.

“Mm,” Rylgeen said. She remained motionless aside from a click of her crab-like mandible. “And where where was Starfleet’s friendship to be found for the past three years?”

“You make a good point,” Taes said, deftly weaving away from the question and transforming it into a moment of agreement. “The last Starfleet vessels to venture into the Nacene Reach did not pass through this area of space…”

At that, Rylgeen shook her head and reached a grasping claw in Taes’s direction.

“This word,” Rylgeen said, “I am unfamiliar with this word.”

Taes’s head snapped in Nova’s direction. Seeing vulnerability for the first time that day, Taes’s dark eyes were pleading to Nova softly. In Nova’s new role as a chief communications officer, she monitored the occasional snafu from the universal translator. Rylgeen’s jab hadn’t been entirely without merit. Aside from first contact, Starfleet had had so little contact with the K’ritz that the universal translator still hadn’t devised a perfect match for every nuance of the language.

Nova consulted with the UT interface on her PADD, but before she could make sense of the error message, Taes moved on. Grimacing, Nova felt her insides twisting at being too slow to prove she was capable of Taes’s new confidence in her.

Shrugging it off casually, Taes said, “Ah, Nacene Reach is a bit of a poetry from Starfleet adventurers that came before me.”

“I am familiar with the word reach in my own language,” Rylgeen said; the glottal stops in her way of speech became harder as she continued. “It refers to something distant and out of touch. Something that could be considered dangerous. I suspect those indigenous to this alien, unknowable reach would call it home.”

Her eyes on the down, Taes held her glass to the side, and her yeoman snatched it away. Taes nodded solemnly and folded her hands over her abdomen.

Contritely, Taes said, “You have my apologies, ambassador, for the lack of transparency. Starfleet has been under attack from without and within by the Borg and the Dominion. It is a great privilege bestowed upon me and my crew to muster the resources to explore at all.  We come here in humility to formalize diplomatic recognition with our old friends once again. We are prepared to trade for the star charts; we propose an exchange.”

Rylgeen looked to Taes, met her eyes, and then offered nothing more.

Shuffling across the reception hall in the most modest of quick steps, Rylgeen positioned herself in front of Flavia ir-Llantrisant, mission commander of the research contingent from the Romulan Free State aboard Constellation Squadron. Rather than her humble jumpsuits, Flavia was dressed in an emerald green suit, the jacket of which trailed to the floor behind her.

Given Flavia was even shorter than Taes’s 171 centimetres, Rylgeen positively towered over the Romulan scientist. Having left Taes behind, the hardness of Rylgeen’s expression melted away. Her accented speech returned to a tapestry of whispers and sighs.

“Their Starfleet has been behest these past years, and what of your Romulan Free State?” Rylgeen asked. “Does your request come tharshaal with Starfleet’s?”

Nova felt Taes’s eyes on her again, but she was already swiping through text on her PADD’s screen. This time, Nova didn’t look up to smile apologetically.

Presumably, to buy time, Taes said, “That word, tharshaal, was not understood by our translation technology.”

In an undertone, Nova said, “While every context clue of the sentence suggests the word should be something like partnership, the root word is closer to pregnant. Born within.”

Flavia stomped her heel and jut out her chin.

“My request for the star charts is my own,” she said.

Rylgeen laughed briefly. It was reminiscent of the sound of cutlery scraping across crystal.

In response, she asked, “What need do you have for star charts if you don’t have your own vessels?”

“Wouldn’t it be more fun,” Flavia asked, “to discuss what the Romulans can do for you?” There was a certain vibrato to her vowels that conveyed a sincere playfulness.

“No,” Rylgeen said. “I am not permitted to negotiate with powers for whom we have no normalised diplomatic relations.”

Interjecting herself, Taes asked, “By what undertaking may we apply for diplomatic recognition?”

Rylgeen tilted her head, saying, “An opportunity awaits on our homeworld more than a dozen days from now. I will sponsor a representative from each of your governments to enter shelkvan.”

Nova had been watching her PADD rather than the discussion and her breath still caught in her throat when another unknown word crossed her ears.

“Uhh,” Nova vocalised when she heard Taes padding towards her. Translating the words she saw on the display, Nova gasped softly.

“Shelkvan is like… It’s kind of like… the Eurovision song contest?”