“This is unacceptable, I will not sit here and be insulted! I won’t be subjected to this mockery a moment longer!” The older Talaxian statesman shouted at the top of his lungs as he rose with a burst of energy from his chair. 

“Likewise!” countered the Haakonian woman from across him. 

“Then we’re done here!”

The words rang out like a phaser blast. Ambassador Naxim’s fist struck the table with enough force to send a few PADDs clattering. The room recoiled with the impact, and chairs scraped back in protest. Across from him, General Sintal remained stone-faced, her spine rigid, eyes narrowed, but her voice still. She stood a moment later, her dark Haakonian uniform catching the light from the wide viewport behind her.

Commodore McCallister didn’t stop them. Neither did anyone else. He remained seated, jaw clenched, as the hiss of the doors announced the delegates’ departure.

The room fell into a hollow silence. Outside, the golden light of Rakosa’s sun filtered in through the star-map projection, illuminating the empty chairs they had left behind.

McCallister sighed heavily as the doors sealed shut with a sterile hiss, leaving an echo of bitter silence behind. He didn’t speak immediately, only ran a hand across his jaw and cast a sidelong glance toward Flemen. His breath left through his nose in a slow stream, the only outward crack in his composure. Frustration pinched the corners of his eyes. This was not how he’d envisioned the first round.

“Don’t let it weigh too heavily, Commodore,” First Minister Bennan offered, already moving with deliberate calm toward the refreshments table. His hands were steady as he poured himself a drink, every motion precise. “The Talaxians still carry the pain of Rinax like a living wound, and the Haakonians, well, they carry guilt within their teeth. One session was never going to undo all that.”

McCallister exhaled again. Quieter this time, his weariness was evident. He raked his hand through his hair and let it rest on the back of his neck, fingers kneading at the tension that had gathered there. His gaze lingered on the empty seats at the far end of the room, their vacancy a stark reminder of the gulf that still lay between the two factions.

“I didn’t expect to untangle decades of hatred in a single meeting, Mister First Minister,” he muttered, voice low and laced with frustration as he emphasised his point. “But I had hoped, just hoped, we’d see a flicker of common ground. A willingness to try.”

Bennan turned slowly, glass in hand, and met the commodore’s eyes. “Hope is still on the table, Commodore,” he replied gently. “And we were clear. That clarity alone may have shaken something loose. Sometimes, even silence is an answer.” He took a small sip of water, then let his eyes follow McCallister’s gaze toward the empty chairs. “Diplomacy,” Bennan continued, “is like trying to thaw a frozen river. You don’t see progress at first, only the cracks and hairline fractures along the surface. But beneath it, the current is still moving, waiting for its chance to flow freely again.” He offered a faint smile. “Today was a crack. Nothing more. But that’s how it begins.”

Flemen rubbed his temple beneath the faint markings that traced his hairline, the pressure in his skull threatening to split him in two. His breath came out in short bursts as he tried to steady himself. The frustration was palpable, his normally calm demeanour slipping somewhat. “I sensed that General Sintal was conflicted at one point,” he said, the words falling from his lips with a hint of disbelief, “but Ambassador Naxim had to continue insulting her. She wasn’t even born when the war ended. So why keep calling her a butcher of Rinax? It’s not only unfair, it’s counterproductive.”

“Sometimes insults are easy to throw out,” McCallister reminded Flemen. 

Pressing harder against his temple with his fingers as if to stave off the headache creeping behind his eyes, Flemen knew that this would be tough. The political complexities of the negotiations were enough to drive anyone mad, but the personal animosity from Naxim was another matter entirely.  “General Sintal, I feel she’s caught in a struggle between her people’s past and their present. The weight of her people’s history is more than a mere challenge; it’s a burden she bears in every decision. But Naxim’s words just pile on more pressure. It’s as if he wants to paint her with the same brush, despite her having no part in the Haakonian-Talaxian war. It’s not just unfair, it’s reckless. We’re not getting anywhere with this kind of rhetoric. And Naxim keeps pushing for Talaxian independence like it’s a bargaining chip, something we can just slip into the negotiations. But these talks won’t deliver that. Not now, not ever. And deep down, I’m sure he knows that. It’s as if he’s trapped in a cycle of desperation, unable to see that his people’s  survival depends on cooperation, not rebellion.” Flemen’s fingers tightened slightly. “We can’t keep circling around the same argument. If Naxim can’t let go of the past, none of us will ever move forward and be able to deal with the Vaadwaur threat.”

Tomaz leaned forward, his brow furrowed in thought. “The issue with Naxim is simple. He can’t see beyond his own idealism. Talaxian independence is an unattainable dream for the time being, and it clouds his judgment. These talks won’t give him what he wants unless the entire balance of power shifts. Yet he insists on pushing for the impossible.” Tomaz gave a slight, almost imperceptible shake of his head. “It’s frustrating, watching someone so blinded by pride, when all we’re trying to do is keep both sides from plunging into darkness because of an outside threat. If only he saw that it’s a possibility that the Talaxian people could gain so much in the long term with what is being offered here today.”

“The recent Vaadwaur attacks and raids have severely weakened the Haakonian Order,” Bennan said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered the implications. “They’ve been left with fractured borders, disarrayed fleets, and civilians struggling to survive. Compared to them, Talax is relatively stable. The Talaxians know they have a powerful bargaining tool in the form of their resources. They’ll push for leverage, and the Haakonians may not have the luxury to ignore it for much longer.” Bennan turned to Flemen, his smile warm but knowing. “Commander Flemen, you handled yourself with real poise back there. Persuasive, eloquent, and composed. You gave them something to think about.” He paused, his gaze flicking between the others as if to ensure the compliment was not just a passing gesture. “Whether they admit it or not, your words landed. This isn’t a victory, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

Flemen’s lips pressed into a thin line. He nodded, though he wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know, First Minister. It feels like we’re just buying time. Sintal’s government is on the edge, and we’ve only scratched the surface of the issues. As you said, diplomacy is like a frozen river, one wrong foot and you could fall to your death.” He paused for a beat. “But I appreciate the encouragement.”

McCallister stood quietly, his eyes tracing the distant stars beyond the viewports. The beauty of the starfield did little to soothe the growing ache of uncertainty in his chest. There were no easy answers, no simple solutions to the mess they were embroiled in. The Haakonians were weakened, yes, but they still held powerful forces at their disposal. The Talaxians, too, had their advantages, but only in specific sectors. What truly mattered, McCallister thought, was how far each side was willing to push. And that, in his experience, was a perilous question to ask.

Bennan continued, his voice lowering slightly as he considered the broader picture. “Sintal knows her military is not in a strong position better than anyone. The Vaadwaur attacks have impeded the Haakonian’s ability to respond to even small border skirmishes. Her government is walking a fine line, trying to hold onto what remains of its influence. If they are to survive, they must make concessions. But Sintal won’t make them easily, not without a fight.” He met McCallister’s gaze. “She knows the truth, Commodore. The Haakonian Order may be on the brink of collapse. But pride runs deep. That’s why she engaged with us. I get the impression she is one of the more progressive minds in the Haakonian military that my intelligence service has heard of. They’re rare, but they’re open to working with others. She wants peace, but not at the cost of everything.”

McCallister’s thoughts raced as he processed this. “Unfortunately for her, Ambassador Naxim knows that, too,” he muttered under his breath. “And he’s not interested in any middle ground.” He straightened, as though coming to a decision. “The Talaxians may have the upper hand in this particular negotiation, but they don’t have the military might to back it up. They’re playing a dangerous game. They can’t threaten the Haakonians into submission, not with the resources they have.”

“But we need the Talaxians,” Tomaz pressed, his voice firm. “They hold the key to using their established trading routes that could tie the economies of multiple systems together. Their expertise in resource management and infrastructure could streamline the flow of goods, reduce tension between these factions, and boost stability in this entire region. Without their involvement, we’re just spinning our wheels.” He crossed his arms and shared the same level of frustration as his colleagues. It was creeping slowly in his tone. “We don’t have the luxury of time. They know that.”

McCallister glanced back at the starfield beyond, its cold, indifferent beauty doing little to soothe the knot of tension in his chest. The vastness of space seemed to mock him at this moment, offering no easy answers or simple resolutions. His mind churned, considering all the variables at play. The Talaxians had the expertise, but their pride was a mountain to climb. The Haakonians had the military might, but their resources were rapidly depleting. In the end, it all boiled down to compromise and the question of what that compromise would look like. His jaw tightened. “We must work out what it will take to get them both back to the table. What will it take to get them to see reason?” His voice was low, filled with quiet determination. “We need to be clear on what we know would convince them. If we can’t figure that out soon, this whole venture may be doomed before it even starts.” His eyes lingered on the stars, his gaze unfocused as his mind wrestled with the weight of his responsibilities. He couldn’t afford to fail. Not now. “We need to be clear on what we know would convince them,” he repeated, his voice steady but tinged with the uncertainty that gnawed at him. “What will it take to make them see that a coalition is the only option? No one power in this region can stand by itself and survive this Vaadwaur resurgence. Cooperation and unity are the only options.”

The room fell into a heavy silence, each one of them lost in thought, the quiet thick with unspoken annoyance and unacknowledged doubts. Every angle of the negotiation seemed to lead to a dead end. The weight of the deadlock was palpable, and for a moment, the future of the talks seemed to hang in the balance.

Flemen’s voice broke the silence, his words carrying an air of cautious optimism. “I think I’ve got an idea, sir,” he said, looking up at McCallister before his eyes flickered between the other two, as if weighing the potential consequences of what he was about to suggest. Was it worth the risk?

McCallister turned, his gaze intense yet patient. “Go ahead, Craigen,” he said, his voice steady, but the slight tightness around his eyes betrayed how much he was hoping for something, anything, that might move them closer to a solution.

“We’ve all seen what the Vaadwaur are capable of. Maybe we should stop trying to settle old grudges and instead remind them of the threat in front of us. Both sides know that the threat of the Vaadwaur is bigger than all of us, so let’s re-focus the anger, the issues about it by exploring what we know about the Vaadwaur’s interactions with their people from the past,” Flemen suggested.

Tomaz raised an eyebrow and leaned forward, took a inhaled deeply from his breather before a playful smirk appeared on his lips. “Group therapy via a galactic history lesson? You really think a crash course in the Vaadwaur’s past will fix this mess, Craigen?”

Flemen grinned, clearly enjoying the teasing. “Not exactly, Tomaz, but close enough,” he said, picking up the PADDs in front of them, his fingers flipping through the data with practised ease. “All sides have shared what knowledge they have on the Vaadwaur. We have numerous historical, cultural, and strategic databases. The Vaadwaur were a major force in this part of the Delta Quadrant centuries ago. Maybe we need to take a step back, pool what we know, and see if it can shed new light on the situation.”

Bennan leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping thoughtfully on the armrest. “It’s a path worth exploring,” he said, his tone measured. “The Vaadwaur’s past could either ignite a shared instinct for survival or fuel a desire for vengeance. Deep emotions drive both sides, and we may be able to use that to unite them against a common enemy.”

Flemen held up a hand, trying to temper his enthusiasm. “I’m not saying it will ignite a war of vengeance, but it could provide common ground. That’s what we need. And besides, Commander Dalen has been working with the team on the Bellerophon and have finally cracked the database they retrieved from the abandoned base. The data they’ve uncovered contains valuable historical context on the Vaadwaur’s interactions with both Talaxians and Haakonians, as well as the others. If we combine our resources and look at all sides, we might extract something crucial. If we compare what we know, we might unlock something that will shift the entire dynamic of these talks. Even a small piece of new information could change everything. We need to look at what’s really at stake. The Vaadwaur aren’t just an enemy to be feared, they’re a force that could unite us all, if we let them. And that’s something I don’t think they thought could happen in this region.”

“Knowledge is power,” McCallister said, his tone determined. “Understanding what the Vaadwaur gained from their presence here in the past could give us invaluable insight into their intentions. It’s not just about the past, it’s about anticipating their next move in the here and now.” McCallister turned to Flemen and Tomaz, his voice unwavering. “Craigen, Tomaz, get in touch with Commander Dalen and her team. Find out what they’ve uncovered, and dig deeper. We need every scrap of information we can get. The more we learn, the better our chances.”

Bennan’s voice was calm, but his eyes gleamed with intent. “In the meantime, Commodore, I suggest we meet with General Sintal and Ambassador Naxim. If we speak with them separately, we might have a better chance of breaking the deadlock. They’re both stubborn, but I believe we could get more from them this way.”

McCallister nodded at the idea. “Agreed, but let’s do this together. If Sintal and Naxim see that we’re united in our desire to move these talks forward, it’ll send a clear message that we’re not backing down. They can’t afford to ignore that.”

“I like that plan,” Bennan said, grinning slightly. 

The others exchanged nods of approval, the shared understanding of their next steps clear in their eyes. With that, the four men stood, their resolve set, and went their separate ways to carry out their roles.