The USS Grus had only recently arrived at the planet of Vashran along with a pair of transport vessels; bringing in supplies and construction materials.

The Vashran people had once been a slave race within the boards of the Romulan Star Empire and then under the control of independent Romulan forces, after the Empires collapse.  Those occupying forces had in turn either been killed or themselves enslaved by an entity know to the Vashran and others as Helgeshran; which meant ‘he of the light’ in their native language.  At first they had believed him to be a God and their savior; only to discover they were merely a stepping stone towards domination of the universe.

Helgeshran was gone; defeated by the crew of the Raven Class Corvette USS Jaxartes, the majority of, whose crew now served aboard the Grus.  Finally free for the first time in longer than any of their reptilian race could honestly remember, they had welcomed another one of the entities subservient races to their planet; the Pelcaza.

Both races now worked together to rebuild the planet and their lives, and although neither had yet to express a wish to join the Federation, a diplomatic embassy had been set up there in order to establish a long lasting friendship.

Commander Salan had help guide the Pelcaza to safety, and it was he who currently headed up the small Federation presence on the planet, occupying offices that had once belonged to the Romulan Star Empire.

Lieutenant-Commander Chance Vought gave a polite smile and a brief nod to Lieutenant-Commander Laira Bolka, a Bajoran female who had worked alongside the Vulcan commander for several years now.  The promotion had come around the same time she’d been offered the captaincy of USS Grus.  It was only Salan that seemed unaware of her reasons for turning the offer down and wishing to stay close to the one man who might never fully understand how she felt.

Vought entered the main office; he’d been there only once before, not long after taking command of the Grus, and noted that the room hadn’t really changed.  The architecture and decorations still screamed of Romulan decadence, though it was tamed by more subtle Vulcan and local influences.  What dominated it most, as always, was the massive dark wood desk; which was mostly devoid of clutter and electronic devices.

“It is good to see you again.” The Vulcan said, rising from the red leather seat he occupied behind the desk and walked over to a small refrigerator, over in the corner of the room, partly hidden by what might have been a Rubber Plant or some native equivalent. “I trust the journey was an uneventful one; can I get you anything?”

“Compared to what’s been happening lately, it was refreshingly mundane.” Vought replied. “And I’ll give that local drink you recommended to me last time I was here, a try.”

“You mean ‘Bel sal idan’”The Vulcan removed a bottle from inside the refrigerator and poured roughly a third of the cool fruity liquid that was a lime green in colour, yet conveyed a taste which reminded him and others within the diplomatic team of apple and raspberry; into two glasses sat to one side. He handed over one of the two glasses. “I think you will find this an expectable beverage.”

Chance accepted the glass and took a tentative sip, before nodding his approval and making his way to the table, where he sat on one of two smaller chairs at the opposite side to the Commanders. “This stuff isn’t bad.”

The two sat, and Salan placed his elbows on the desk, fingers laced together. “I heard about your last mission, one of many remarkable events that took place,”

“It was.” Vought nodded. “I really thought we’d lost Lieutenant Devron when that alternate reality collapsed.”

“Where did you say they’d found him?” The Vulcan queried.

“Back on Earth; which is where we’ll be heading; tomorrow.” Chance announced.  “Apparently he’s been asleep these past 29 years, waiting for time to catch up.”

“Have you spoken to him?”

“It was only briefly and to his doctor, neither of which seemed positive in their outlook.”

“That does not sound good, did they elaborate?”

“Mobility issues, the doctors think it might be as much psychological as it is physical.”

“That is a shame, as it could impact on his future career path.”

“That was my worry, also.”

“I seem to recall a certain ship’s captain who sounded reluctant to take on the Lieutenant or indeed any of the senior staff he severed with.”

“May be he’s growing on me.” Chance took another sip of his fruit juice, and wondering if a few bottles might make their way on to the ship, before they departed.  “Speaking of senior staff, Ensign Cho mentioned she wanted to see you, before we head off.”

“Ah yes, she wouldn’t elaborate on the matter, but I’m seeing her in about an hour.”

The two officers continued to discuss event both on the planet and the wider Federation, for a considerable part of that hour, and in that time, Vought managed to secure a dozen bottles of ‘Bel sal idan’ which would soon be beamed aboard ship,

**********

When Ensign Cho beamed down to the planet’s surface, she was greeting with deep respect and warm friendship.  She was known to many, even those who’d never met the young Korean, as one of those that had helped save them.

“Shan rashran reev lushran sal.” Was the greeting she received from any Vashran she encountered during her walk from the transporter pad to the commanders office; even a lone Pelcaza female coming out of a side room with a stack of PADD’s in her arms said it. “May the light of life shine upon you.”

Each time she smiled, bowed her head just slightly, and returned the sentiment.  The Vashran were proud of their language, which had been banned throughout the Romulan occupation.  Cho had been the one to teach Jason how to say it, when they’d first come to this planet, just over two years ago.  Being the first person off world, to utter them, had made a great impact on the Chancellor.

When Cho reached the outer office; Bolka commented on how happy and cheerful she looked.  The young Korean showed her the ring that Chad had given her when he’d proposed.

“That does look special.” The Bajoran beamed enthusiastically. “Just watch you don’t lose it on any away missions.”

“Oh, don’t say that, you’ll have me worrying every time I step out of my quarters!” Cho admonished with a half-smile.  “What about you?”

“If I never ask, he can never say no.” Laira sighed; Cho was the only person as far as the Bajoran knew, that had any idea about her feeling.

The door to the Commanders office opened and out stepped the Vulcan. “I thought I could hear voices.”

The statement was a lie, as the offices here had been soundproofed by the Romulan’s; even a full scale fire fight could go unnoticed, until someone blew a hole in the wall.

Cho whispered to Laira, just before following Salan into his office.  “Ask him, girl, just as him.”

Inside the office, she was offered the same fruity liquid her Captain had tried earlier, only this wasn’t the first time she’d sampled it.

The Vulcan sat back down into his large chair. “I believe you wanted to discuss a personal matter.”

“It’s about my wedding.” Cho had thought long and hard about how to say this. “Well whilst on Earth, it will give me chance to sort out some of the arrangements in person; but I wanted to ask you something first.”

“Ask anything.” Salan replied. “I am more than happy to help in any small way I can.”

“Well as you know, my parents were against me joining Starfleet and are completely opposed to my marrying Chad,”

“Yes, that is a regrettable situation.”

“So in the absence of them attending, I’d like you to be the one to walk me down the aisle.”

“Though as I’m sure you would, I wish it could be your father undertaking the role on such a special occasion, I would be honoured.”

Cho mouthed the word ‘thankyou’ and started crying softly.  A moment later she felt the Salan’s hand rest upon her shoulder and a very Vulcan attempt to offer words of understanding and sympathy.