‘We are excited for… ah, he says, “open horizons”, sir, which I’m sure means “opportunities” -’

‘Does it? I couldn’t have guessed that for myself.’ Lieutenant Wyke’s voice was cool as he stared at the young linguist, Lieutenant JG Vellan, who accompanied the party as they walked the corridors of the USS Chatham towards the transporter room.

Vellan winced, cowed by the chiding from a superior officer. Wyke knew he shouldn’t be too hard on the young man; he was the wunderkind who had managed to crack the language of the Torvallians, one of Starfleet’s newest contacts whose tongue still eluded the universal translator. The Torvallians were at least partly telepathic, communicating with a mixture of verbal and psychic syntax, and only by the first contact’s team’s accidental encounter with some psychic artifact had communication been capable.

Most of that team was with the Starfleet diplomatic envoy at the Torvallian homeworld, building bridges with the apparently kind, enthusiastic, and curious people. Vellan, however, had been sent to act as interpreter for the small group of Torvallian envoys headed for Starbase Bravo. Envoys Wyke had to babysit. Maybe someone thought his Betazoid abilities would smooth over communication. Maybe it was just because he was catching a ride to his new assignment on the Chatham too. Maybe Command hated him.

If the Torvallian head delegate, Jo’niske, picked up on any tension between them, he did not show it. His people bore deep forehead ridges looming over the eyes to give them a look of a perpetual frown, which seemed very at odds with their apparently genial and open nature. He babbled something in his own language which made Vellan stop and listen, and the linguist eventually smiled.

‘He says he is particularly interested to know about any musical exhibits at the Colloquium, sir.’

‘Musical?’

‘Music is hugely important to Torvallian culture.’

‘Let me guess – they also value good food, community, and hospitality?’

‘I mean, sir, it’s also important to them scientifically. Both in how the mathematical principles of sound help them understand the universe, and in how they engage qualitatively with all their research.’

Wyke made a face. ‘You mean they really care about how they feel about their astrophysics?’ He shook his head. ‘Tell him we’ll find him a cultural exhibit with music.’ And if there isn’t one, I’ll find him an ensign with a violin.

Jo’niske beamed at the news, and the gaggle of Torvallian scientists and diplomats with him descended into an enthusiastic babble. At least they were good at entertaining themselves, Wyke reflected – the briefing package said they were unfailingly curious, which was why bringing a delegation to Starbase Bravo’s Colloquium was considered such a key step in forging this fledgling relationship with the Federation. Aboard the station they could see not only what the Federation had to offer, but the wider galaxy. All while Wyke held their hands.

With this much traffic around Starbase Bravo, the Chatham had to beam them aboard, and Wyke led them into the transporter room. ‘Tell them to assemble on the pad,’ he told Vellan, and looked to the operator. ‘You have their biosignatures properly scanned for transport?’

The young operator gave a nod. They looked nervous. ‘Ready, sir.’

Wyke bounced onto the pad alongside Vellan, Jo’niske, and the rest of the Torvallian delegates. ‘Energise.’ The bulkheads of the USS Chatham faded, and within seconds were replaced with the near-identical walls of a much-larger transporter room on Starbase Bravo, where a group of diplomatic officials and ranking officers waited for him.

Wyke gave a crisp, tight smile to the leading figure of Captain Reyes, station XO – then frowned as he saw the captain’s stare, felt the confusion radiate from him. And when he turned, stood next to him on the pad was only Lieutenant Vellan and Jo’niske.

Captain Reyes took a step forward. ‘Lieutenant, the rest of the delegation are coming, yes…?’

Wyke’s heart lunged into his throat, and he smashed his communicator. ‘Wyke to Chatham. We’re missing people here – it’s only us two and one of the delegates…’ Beside him, Jo’niske was addressing Vellan in a rather anxious tone.

‘Stand by, Lieutenant,’ came the reply from the Chatham. A moment later, the captain’s voice came over. ‘They were dematerialised here and successfully transporter.’

‘They’re not here!’

Reyes, brow furrowing with growing apprehension, raised a hand to forestall Wyke’s frustration. ‘Are they in the buffers, Captain?’

‘We’re running a full check now.’ The Chatham’s skipper did, at least, sound appropriately panicked for having lost a slew of delegates. Wyke tried to ignore Jo’niske’s increasingly urgent tones as Vellan tried to keep him calm. Then came more from the ship. ‘We confirm they were transported, sir, but… it seems something about their physiology confused our systems. Specifically about their destination.’

‘Tell me,’ said Wyke in a strained voice, ‘you didn’t just beam the Federation’s newest friends into space.’

‘Safety systems would stop that from happening. It looks like they’re aboard Starbase Bravo. They’re just not with you.’

Captain Reyes’s eyebrows hit his hairline. ‘You’re saying we’ve got a delegation of scientists and diplomats from a brand-new contact who don’t speak Standard and the universal translator doesn’t work on, who’ve been scattered across our station?’

‘That, uh… that’s correct, sir.’

As Vellan explained to Jo’niske, the Torvallian looked to relax and significantly brighten. He said something enthusiastic to Vellan, who looked rather apprehensive.

‘What did he say?’ Wyke snapped at the linguist.

‘Just that… uh…’ Vellan ran a hand through his hair. ‘He’s delighted. He says his people are going to love the chance to see the exhibits, because sometimes diplomatic handlers keep them away from the, uh… the fun stuff.’

Wyke turned to Reyes, gaze flat. ‘They’re not just lost, sir. They’re lost, and they might not be fully cooperative in being found.’

Captain Reyes paused. Clicked his tongue. And said, ‘Then I guess you better get them found, Lieutenant. Soon.’ 

To: All Staff

From: Captain Javier Reyes, XO

A transporter accident has scattered a delegation across the station. The Torvallians are a new contact of the Federation’s; they do not speak Standard, and the universal translator has not yet cracked their language. Their biology is sufficiently new to us that we cannot yet isolate their signatures on our sensors.

The Torvallians are known to be friendly and curious and are reportedly excited to experience the Colloquium, but they are lost and alone on our station. They must be found before there are any accidents. Teams are being dispatched to find them, but all hands should be vigilant. Images of the delegates and information about them and their culture are attached. If you find them, please escort them to the security office or inform Lieutenant Wyke, Strategic Operations.

These are future friends. Let’s take care of them.

In Play:

This is a loose plotline for any members of SBB to participate in. Characters could be officially looking for the Torvallians or encounter them about the station. These aliens are pleasant, scientifically curious, and delighted to experience the Colloquium – they may not be fully willing to leave an exhibition if they’re having a good time. They do not speak Standard and universal translators do not yet know their language, and there is not enough data on their biology to isolate their location with sensors. Overcoming these problems could also be written about (just don’t immediately write a post where you figure out how to find them on sensors!).

This is not a station-wide emergency. It does, however, provide a little colour and some possible stakes to how your characters experience the Colloquium. What exciting exhibition will draw the curiosity of these lost delegates?

You can of course write these experiences in a solo or joint post, and the on-screen involvement of Captain Reyes or Lieutenant Wyke is not required.