Miguel Peña stepped out into the sinking sun and stood between the two HQ buildings, looking away from the gate to Asalooq Starfleet Facility and across the decorative ponds and the open space, to the habitat towers and the Recreational Facility. In the distance, he could just make out Petrov's dorsal hull. The ship sat in its landing pit, the most primitive of docking facilities, and engineering personnel was visible on top of it, still cleaning every nook and cranny to remove the dust the botched landing had caused to accumulate four days ago. Near the Recreational Facility and across the open green space, Starfleet and Civilian members of Asalooq Initial Civilian-Starfleet Mission enjoyed the warm, pleasant climate of Asalooq's equatorial region. Games were played, Mission members and their families were exploring their new environment, pets (both holographic and real) enjoyed their regained liberty. The bluish-green sea glittered in the distance, the sky was clear and atmospheric vehicles headed towards and away from Council City's airport. Some were modern shuttles, their engines humming away gently, but about two thirds were old, combustion-powered aerodynamic craft, much louder as they passed over ASF. Miguel saw a few people putting their hands over their ears. Such levels of noise were rare on Federation member worlds, but Asalooq had only been a member for a few months and had reached that status at a relatively early stage of technological development - or rather, technological proliferation. Their sub-light engine technology was good at the edge, but hadn't been for long so that the necessary modern vehicles were still being built, the manufacturers unable to keep up with demand.

Smaller airplanes, two at this time, were circling ASF at a respectful distance. Curious tourists, undoubtedly, wanting to get a look at the newly inhabited facility. Very few of them would ever have seen an alien, and now, with old binoculars and new electronic scopes, they would. Embarrassedly, perhaps, but reserved as the Asalooq were, their rapid technological and scientific advances over the last two generations could not have happened without a strong sense and appreciation of curiosity. He would get to know some of them tonight, and get the chance to compare them to Teldac Issor, his unlucky CONN officer. They would venture outside ASF for the first time, into Council City …

The Captain's comm badge chirped. He touched it and asked: "Is everyone there?" "Yes sir," replied Velna Coryn's voice, carefully polite for once. "I'll be with you in a minute." Peña closed the channel and went back inside to a small briefing room, where Commander Robinson and Petrov's senior officers were assembled.

Jamila al-Qamari slid her wardrobe shut with a sigh. For the last twenty minutes, she had amused herself by looking at her collection of dresses and other beautiful outfits, only to decide that no, none of them was compatible with the cultural data on appropriate Asalooq clothing. She loved dressing up, to have fun with the images she wanted to project, the impressions she wanted to make. Today, however, she would have to wear her dress uniform, for the second time this week. She didn't like it. The current model was dull, she thought distastefully, a hopeless attempt at a compromise between elegant and laid-back. It wasn't even that tight, so it didn't even have the appeal of showing her fellow officers' physical advantages. There were many of those. Roosevelt was so rugged, albeit married and not into women. Ensign Issor had that healthy, fit fresh-from-the-Academy look and dark, meaningful eyes. And her bunkmate from the flight here, Dr Eniyan, was simply gorgeous. Jamila found herself actually missing the crammed space they had shared, because it afforded her the chance to look at Eniyan and talk to her. Well, the doctor would be on the trip to tonight's questionable entertainment, so Jamila would be able to see her.

The Counselor adjusted her uniform, made sure her hair was "professionally configured", as she privately called the boring hairstyles she had to use, and left her apartment at H Tower Level 10 to head down and across half of ASF to HQ. The lift down stopped at level 9, and a nervous-looking Ensign Dhawan entered. Jamila smiled happily. So far, she liked most of the Petrov crew, and Dhawan was definitely in that category. "Hello, Ensign! Heading for HQ? I didn't know you had your apartment in this tower as well! How do you like it?"

Myra was nervous about meeting the Asalooq. What if she made a mistake? She had studied the briefing papers, but it was all pretty confusing. How was she supposed to navigate a completely different culture with just some dry, scientific-sounding notes to go by? Half the time, she was terrified by interacting with people from her own culture, so how was she supposed to feel about meeting a delegation from a totally different one, while having to represent Starfleet and make a good impression? She felt totally unprepared, out of her depth, yet very much aware that there was too much at stake for her, or anyone for that matter, to make mistakes. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

As the counsellor addressed her, however, Myra couldn't help but smile. She barely knew al-Qamari, but she radiated a joy and kindness that, somehow, put Myra at ease in what should have been a tense, awkward situation. "I think Asalooq is very beautiful," she replied truthfully, "And they took a lot of trouble with our quarters, that's easy to see. Comfortable and beautiful, not at all like being on a starship. I like it here. But it's also quite scary, don't you think? Being the first Starfleet people they meet, I mean. It's like all eyes are on us. And besides, I feel like I still don't really know how to interact with the Asalooq. I've read the papers they sent us… well, some of them, there were just so many and I was a little overwhelmed… but it still seems just so complicated…"

She hadn't really wanted to confide that much, but it had been worrying her for the last days and al-Qamari was so easy to trust that it just sort of happened.

Jamila could easily grasp how Dhawan felt. After all, she hadn't been on active duty that long herself. "I think everyone is nervous on their first assignment. I definitely was! You're right with the other thing as well. We are pretty far out here. But look at it like this: To them, we're the Federation. So the best thing we can do is to be ourselves, so they'll get an impression about what the Federation really is - it's us, it's all its people. It's not about being a certain way, but being like you are while letting others be like they are. I know 'being yourself' is sort of the counselling cliché, but in this case, I think it really does make sense. I'm not sure how to interact with the Asalooq myself, to be honest. Nobody is at this point, I guess. But they're not ignorant, either. They know our culture is different, they'll expect us to break some of their rules. We should just try and do it respectfully." Jamila laughed, and saw Dhawan smiling as well. "Break rules respectfully. Sounds very Federation, doesn't it? Like something Captain Picard could pull off." She put a hand on Dhawan's shoulder and smiled at her. "Don't worry. You'll do fine!"

The lift arrived at ground level, and the two women left the building. Jamila wasn't used to the feeling of an actual sun on her skin yet and let out a quiet sound of pleasure. "Sorry," she giggled. "Just love the sun. K class ones anyway, not the kind that fries you alive! But you'll know more about that than me…" She found it amusing how Dhawan was too modest to reply at all, and Jamila thought she detected a slight blush on her brown face. "Talking about knowledge - I'm not sure why they want me to go to this …" She checked a pad. "Uwnehi. Can't pronounce it. I mean, it's supposed to be like their military high command, where we're invited. You guys, sure, you've all got some sort of military function, but me? I've had my basic training, nothing more," she said, puzzlement in her voice.

Myra considered the question for a moment. "Well, maybe it's to give the Asalooq a more… balanced view of what we're like," she suggested, "You know, as you said, they're supposed to get an idea of what the Federation is like, and maybe someone feels that this idea wouldn't be realistic if it was just, you know, real military types." Not that she felt like one herself, really. The dress uniform she was wearing for the second time in a week still felt a little strange - as though it was several sizes too big for her, despite its perfect fit. She had to keep reminding herself that she wasn't just a little kid playing pretend with her friends, or else, on stage playing some sort of explorer. This mission felt like a little bit of both.

"Besides, you're a psychologist," she carried on, determined not to give in to her pointless thoughts, "Maybe they just want you there to observe and analyse… I don't know, the dynamics of our conversation, or how we react to each other, something like that. You said yourself that we don't really know much about the Asalooq yet. Maybe someone like you could help us figure them out?"

al-Qamari looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure, it's hard to figure out what our higher-ups are thinking at this point, but both ideas sound quite reasonable. Maybe you're right. I do hope I'll find out, because I really hate not knowing… oh, look, we've arrived at the briefing room already." She pointed out a large, soberly businesslike room with a table, chairs and various presentation equipment right in front of them. The Captain, Myra noticed, was already there, as was the Chief Engineer. They seemed to be engaged in conversation about some military matter but looked up when the two women entered the room.

'At least I wasn't late,' Myra thought as she greeted the two higher-ranking officers politely, but without being entirely able to hide her insecurity. al-Qamari's greeting sounded much more confident and she immediately made her way towards one of the empty chairs. Myra couldn't help but admire her attitude. Quietly, she, too, sat down, hoping nobody would try to get her to join the conversation.

Peña settled down in his chair and smiled around the table, greeting his officers and Commander Parker-Takeno from the Ground Combat Element. He found himself a little unfocused that evening, thinking about a two-week astronomical survey mission Petrov would undertake starting three days hence. The Defiant-class's raw engine power and the modern computers saved some time on such missions, but that would probably be offset by its rather basic scientific sensor array. Peña was confident they would find a way to get the job done, but he had another concern: he had not missed the troubled interactions between Commander Velna and the crew, and was privately sure that Issor's pilot error at the landing was a sign of something more than the usual anxiety all Ensigns displayed. He had not been under a lot of stress from people at that point; bridge officers, even Velna, knew to leave pilots alone through an atmospheric descent. The error, as Peña's old tennis coach would have said, had been unforced, and that was somewhat worrying. He would have to watch the Asalooq officer closely. The other members of his wardroom were reliable enough, although Emeryx had already expressed their displeasure at Petrov's scientific equipment. The Captain would set them, Roosevelt and Dhawan on optimal calibration during the first leg of the flight.

Silently embarrassed from being lost in thought, Peña noticed that Commander Robinson had already come in and started his briefing about the evening. "...far as the sociology team can tell, a Uwnehi is something between a casual work meeting and a friendly get-together. We're glad they haven't put something more formal on the table at this point, because frankly, neither side is really ready for that," Robinson commented gruffly. "I still don't know why the diplomats who managed the Asalooq membership application aren't with us, but apparently, their talents are needed on the other side of Federation territory. People, I need you to be smart tonight. I guess the easiest thing is to talk as little as possible. Keep to your professional domains. Don't ask how they feel, be careful about asking opinions, and for the sake of all that is holy, do not stand too close to people. They hate that. Standing shoulder to shoulder with someone is about their equivalent of a french kiss, or so I'm told."

Peña saw Dr Eniyan chuckle softly to herself. The doctor had a good sense of humour, he thought, but Robinson glanced at the Bolian with little appreciation of that. "Doctor, you'd better take this seriously. Some of the people we're going to meet have lots of influence here for the foreseeable future."

Eniyan raised her long hands in good-natured defense. "Aye sir, don't worry. I won't french kiss anyone." That caused a round of anxious laughter around the table. Even Velna managed a prim smile and Issor let out a snort between embarrassment and laughter. Counsellor al-Qamari shot Eniyan a look Peña found amusingly meaningful. No doubt, Eniyan was a beautiful woman, although he personally had always liked hair on the women to whom he was attracted. Robinson seemed a little annoyed by her flippant remark, but her sonorous doctor's voice was still apparently enough to reassure him. If her file was right, Peña thought, her flippancy was style, not substance.

"Also, they keep their emotions in check. They aren't hardcore Surakian Vulcans and they know we're not Asalooq (except for Mr Issor here), but just don't be too loud." An assistant in the corner gestured towards Robinson, and he nodded. "The transport they're providing will be here soon. Any questions?" Emeryx raised a night-black hand. "Can you tell us who the people we're meeting are?" Robinson nodded. "Yeah, that's a good question. They're from their Separate Council on Global Safety and Security. The Separate Councils are like specialised committees from the big Community Council, their main discussion and legislative platform, but they're more responsible than that, more like a ministry. The Global Safety agenda includes a lot of different things - law enforcement, emergency services of all sorts, defense and things like workplace and trade safety standards. The people we're meeting are part parlamentarians, part ministerial military experts and some are mid- and high-ranking soldiers. The Community of Asalooq Nations and Tribes, their global government, wants to establish a small star system defense fleet as soon as they can manage, and the personnel nucleus of that fleet is at the Uwnehi as well." Emeryx, apparently satisfied with the answer, nodded. There were no more questions and Robinson ushered everyone outside. Peña knew they were to be transported in some sort of luxurious wheeled road vehicle (anti-gravitation devices weren't available enough to the Asalooq yet to allow for VIP transports), but amused himself speculating how such a vehicle might look.