The makeshift conference was uncomfortable. Commander Robinson called everybody to the front of the bus, leaving the back rows empty. Issor ended up in the first row, next to the SGCE Commander. At this point of this terrible development, Teldac wasn't sure if he would have preferred to sit next to someone he knew a little better. He was still in shock over the blatant error by Dhawan and the abject failure of everyone else to even notice it. But really, when the Ensign had so oafishly rejected Feurna's request to converse, the damage had been done. Teldac could only weather the storm now - but the bad thing was that his colleagues didn't even know it was coming.
Robinson started the informal debriefing. "Well, I think that went alright. We all got to talk some. The officials are a nice enough bunch and as far as I could see, we managed to make a lot of contacts that will be useful politically as well as in our real business." With a glance at Teldac the Ensign ignored, Robinson added: "The Community knows its business when it comes to natural disasters and the like, but their military ideas are outdated. Commander Takeno, you'll want to teach their equivalent of Colonels most. They'll be the Generals in the coming years, the ones who lead the transformation." The Commander smiled, making Teldac want to cringe. He understood so little. "Anyone's got something to add? Personally, I'm glad they didn't draw things out too much. Home in time for a late dinner, makes the significant others happy!" Issor heard Commander Takeno chuckle next to him. Well, it wasn't all nonsense - most of the Starfleet people had gotten along great with their counterparts… before Myra Dhawan had extinguished it all.
Darkness was setting in, and a slight rain started, as it often did at this time of day. Teldac was ready to forget the whole evening when Emeryx stood up. Teldac admired the scientist's obvious sharp wits, but their direct manner was almost disturbing. Emeryx seemed to be respected, even liked by the others. Odd that the bluntest, least respectful people often were the most popular among general UFP citizens. He had so much to learn about them… and they about the Asalooq.
"Look, Commander," Emeryx began, their manner typically rough, "I think you're not getting the full picture here. Counselor al-Qamari and I noticed a definite shift in their behavior after the Separate Council member Wahne Feurna left. We can't be sure what it means, but I can tell you it probably won't do to just declare victory and go home like a Klingon warlord."
The Qama scientist began listing the changes in the Asalooqs' behavior, and Teldac was impressed to see that they missed little. So that was what Emeryx and al-Qamari had been talking about surreptitiously in the back. Well, at least someone had noticed. The Mission CO, however, wasn't impressed. He listened but then waved away Emeryx's comments, another supremely rude thing to do (and as far as Teldac knew, that was even true in human context).
"They're probably just glad to see us go. I heard they like to keep social occasions short. But hey, we have a natural expert with us. Mr Issor," he said, turning to Teldac who tried and failed to sink through his soft seat and disappear. "You don't think there's anything to this, do you?" he asked, clearly expecting a short and positive reply.
Teldac swallowed hard. There was no room for him to reply politely and truthfully, the question had completely boxed him in, so much that among Asalooq, it would have been a major breach of etiquette. His shock and his upbringing carried the day, and Teldac knew they did, but he could do little to stop it. He shook his head and heard himself say: "No, sir. There was nothing unusual." For some reason, Teldac's conscience spoke with the voice of his Starfleet Uniform Code professor from the Academy, a stern Andorian woman: And that, Ensign, is dereliction of duty, a potential court-martial offense. It may not pass the legal test, but you should also consider the Immaterial Sabotage laws. The subject from your situation is in trouble in any case.
XXX
Miguel Peña was glad to see that his family was still up when he returned. His wife Alyssa and their two youngest sons, Pablo and Carlos, were in the spacious kitchen, playing a card game. Their greetings were friendly, but notably unfocused. The Captain smiled. That was understandable; after all, card games were a serious business in this family. Not even his wife asked about how the encounter with the SCGS had gone, but he didn't mind that, either. The thing was squirming inside his consciousness like a moody toddler, not really showing what the problem was. "I'll go and change - can I still join?" he asked the card sharks. "Sure, stranger. Make shurr ye bring money, y'hear?" replied Pablo, making his father chuckle. At seventeen, Pablo was a joker, always picking up new accents from people and holo programs. In this case, he had played out a Western scenario and learned to imitate a 19th century human quite well. Miguel put on civilian clothes and returned with a synthale, his traditional evening drink.
He was dealt in after a while (his sons having long since graduated from children's games to poker), and as he pondered his hand, his mind wandered back to the discussion on the way from the SGCS building. Commander Robinson had made short work of Emeryx's and al-Qamari's doubts, and after consideration, Miguel wasn't sure that had been a good idea. He had misgivings about the farewell bit, and hoped someone would check up on that. There was also Issor's denial of any problem to consider. Peña knew about the power of suggestive questions, and on the other hand, knew his CONN officer much less well than he would have liked. The Asalooq were hard to crack, and Issor doubly so. All things considered, he couldn't be sure that the denial had been genuine.
The hand was good, and he made his first bet. Wait and see. And keep learning about the Asalooq...
XXX
Everybody who had been part of the delegation had the following morning off. Myra was glad about that - she had found the whole business pretty stressful and exhausting. Therefore, she slept in a little and enjoyed a long, luxurious shower. Afterwards, she decided to go to the recreational facility for breakfast. It was a little too crowded for her usually, but she felt she should really get to know some more people, and this was a relatively casual way. Besides, the food really was quite good.
When Myra got to the recreational facility, however, the room was quiet - she was probably a little too late. All the people Myra saw were already engaged in conversation and Myra didn't want to intrude. Therefore, she chose a table for herself, half hoping that someone would come in and join her.
Following a tradition that was probably hundreds of years old, there was a screen on the wall showing the morning news. While she was waiting for her food and sipping her first cup of tea, Myra watched with casual interest. It might be helpful in getting to know the Asalooq a little better. Since none of the Starfleet officers - except Mr Issor, of course - spoke the language yet, there was some kind of translation software running in the background. Myra noticed it didn't seem to be very good yet - most of the time, she could just about guess what was being talked about, but it was quite far from actually getting an accurate translation. In parts, she had to rely heavily on the images to understand what was going on.
The first news item seemed to be about a new kind of transportation vehicle that had recently been unveiled, the second about an influential politician who had either committed fraud, been a victim of fraud or passed a law about fraud, Myra wasn't sure which. News item number three, however, immediately made her turn her full attention towards the screen. This building… she knew this building. It was the one they had visited the evening before, she was quite certain. As she concentrated on the audio, she could make out "Starfleet" and something about "talks" and "discussions". She was a little surprised - she hadn't really expected such a relatively routine meeting to be covered in the news in this way. Well, maybe the Asalooq were a little more excited about their dealings with the Federation than she had realised. Surely, that had to be a good thing.
As she continued to watch, however, her feelings of pride and excitement vanished more quickly than dewdrops in the Asalooq morning sun, being replaced by the first beginnings of fear. The commentary wasn't at all what she had expected. There was nothing about the alliance's potential benefits for the Asalooq, nor about the planned cooperation programmes. Instead, it all sounded… worrying. What little she could understand unmistakably indicated conflict of some sort - trouble. However, she couldn't figure out much more than that. It really was maddening to have to rely on the automatic translation. The word "Tashaneton", which Myra knew to be related to Asalooq ideas of manners and tradition as well as morals, kept being repeated. Did that mean Starfleet was being accused of having breached this code somehow? It seemed plausible, but she really couldn't say for sure.
Myra felt herself beginning to panic. For a while, she just sat there, staring on the screen, transfixed by the report yet not capable of making sense of it. She longed to understand what was going on, yet she dreaded the truth, too, because what if she was right? What if it had all gone unexpectedly, catastrophically wrong?
To make matters worse, Myra couldn't shake the feeling that this disaster, whatever it was, was somehow her fault. Her colleagues had all seemed so suave, so confident. She, on the other hand, had struggled, had blundered her way all through the meeting, wishing she were back at the base - or even back home, far from the Asalooq and their bewildering society.
After an endless while of feeling paralysed by her panic, Myra resolutely told herself to think rationally. She was an officer, after all. A professional. If things had indeed gone so badly wrong, it was her duty to help fix them. But that meant gathering more information first. Before she did anything else, she had to verify what this was all about. Maybe she had simply misunderstood the report. She really hoped she had. But how could she find out? She needed a translator, someone who could make sense of the original commentary and not have to rely on the hit-and-miss automatic translation… She needed Ensign Issor. If possible, her mood got even worse as the realisation dawned on her. Apart from maybe the scary First Officer, Issor was about the last member of the crew she wanted to ask for anything. After their entirely catastrophic start, it would simply be too awkward. She considered possible alternatives for a while, but none of them seemed practical - there was nothing for it: she had to ask Issor for help.
Before her courage could desert her, Myra activated her communicator. "Dhawan to Issor… uhm, Ensign, I know this is awkward and all, and I'm really sorry to bother you, but I really need your help. Could you perhaps come over to the recreation facility?"
Xxx
This day started just like the last one had ended. Barely had Teldac managed to get underway for his morning run when Ensign Dhawan, of all people, commed him. At least he was in uniform. He prided himself on being able to do his morning run without more than a hint of sweat, and he wanted to keep it that way. The fitness coaches at the Academy had warned of the "post-graduation slump". He liked his morning run. To make matters worse, Dhawan made the sort of information-free report that would have gotten her a good yelling-at in the infamous Basic Starfleet Training course BST, or "Blood, Sweat and Tears" as the cadets called it. He could remember being scared to death when a towering Benzite instructor had started shouting at a cadet a few places down the line. Asalooq didn't shout, not even in such a setting. Even a raised voice at a noisy workplace was accompanied by apologetic particles.
Teldac tried to ignore the renewed anger at Dhawan and told her he was coming to her position. He had almost (and blissfully) forgotten last night's incident, but when he saw the news broadcasts, he understood why she had called him to the rec center's mess hall. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Ensign, but this is about… well… us, last night I mean, and you're the only officer I know who is fluent in Asalooq," she babbled as he approached.
"No problem", he replied mechanically, wishing she would just shut up so he could listen to the original sound past the translation system. He felt himself go pale. "This isn't good at all…" he murmured, first in his native tongue, then in Standard for Dhawan's benefit. I didn't think they'd take it this seriously. "It says that the Starfleet delegation to the Separate Council insulted council members yesterday. What it is not saying is exactly what the insult was, because that simply isn't done in our culture. It would be very rude to describe the insult," he explained as he felt his blood pressure rising. She has me to describe her affront, if only she was capable of asking in a semi-civilised way. "The commentator is talking about a...I suppose you'd say grievous breach of Tashaneton."
He looked at her rather sternly, happy to be on the winning side of something, as shabby as that side might look in this case. He fully expected to be shouted at by a Captain, two Commanders and maybe even Admirals before noon, so this was a guilty pleasure. "The term I translated as grievous breach, wuinash'ta, has a special connotation. In former times, declaring a wuinash'ta meant that a blood feud between your and the offender's clan was very likely. Councilwoman Wahne must be immensely angry." And you're to blame, you uncouth chore of a woman.
Xxx
Issor's explanation had confirmed the worst of Myra's fears. So the Asalooq were indeed upset about something that had happened at yesterday's meeting. Something she had done, she concluded, her fear and disappointment growing worse. After all, councilwoman Wahne Feurna had been her conversation partner. So maybe leaving early had been a sign of disapproval, of feeling offended. 'Offended by what, though?,' Myra wondered desperately. She had tried so hard not to speak out of turn, not to use any terms the Asalooq might find offensive. Realising Feurna's influential position, she had also made an effort to show her as much respect as possible. So what could have offended her? Myra felt terrible about having made a mistake, particularly one with such dire consequences, but she couldn't for the life of her figure out what the mistake had been.
Issor had been watching her in silence. As far as Myra could determine, his expression was cold, even a little smug. It baffled her, even considering that they hadn't really gotten along. There should have been some solidarity. When Issor had made his pilot mistake earlier, feelings of superiority or triumph had been furthest from her mind. A little guilty relief that she had not been the one to mess up, yes, but mostly, she had felt sympathetic. Issor seemed anything but.
It made the next thing she had to do that much harder. But there was no way around it. She had to inform their superiors about what had happened, and before she owned up to her mistake, she at least needed some clues what that mistake had been in the first place. Otherwise, she'd not be very helpful to whoever she reported to - and besides, she wasn't crazy about facing the imminent dressing-down entirely unprepared. She swallowed with an effort. "Would you… I mean, of course you don't have to, but it would be very helpful… I mean… could you perhaps tell me what the councilwoman might be offended about? You have got some kind of idea, don't you?" Wonderful. Another monologue worthy of the Federation's greatest playwrights.
Xxx
Teldac was once more surprised by the way humans acted, especially this one. Dhawan had not posed the question elegantly, but she was so flustered that he couldn't help but feel a little bit sympathetic. And for the first time, he had the impression she was trying to treat him well. Scenes from his days as a child and teenager flashed before eyes, when other kids would treat him without respect because he was of that weird status people like him had, between a true clanless outcast and an accepted member of Asalooq society. He had tried as well, hard and every single day, and had gained little. That was why he loved the Federation: nobody who tried was ever truly excluded. He had to give Dhawan a little chance, even if she had already proven herself as lacking in manners… and wasn't there some satisfaction in showing her the errors of her ways? Also, the question had been posed nicely enough. With some reserve, some way to say no. As it should be.
"I...do have some idea," he replied. "May I sit down, perhaps?" "Oh! Of course. So sorry. I'm just really…" It was an annoying habit of humans, finishing sentences with a gesture. He could never read those gestures, often dramatic, over-the-top ones. To be fair, that could not be said of the way Dhawan's hands twitched and turned in mid-air. She wasn't quite as expressive as some non-Asalooq he knew.
Teldac pulled up a chair and sat down. Looking towards the window, with ASF's sweeping gardens in view, he rubbed his chin once and began to speak, getting the necessary preamble out of the way first. "Please note, Ensign, that I am not out to insult you. There is no need to justify yourself to me. I am not passing judgment. In fact, I would prefer if you took what I am about to describe as raw data, with which you may choose to do what you think best. If I do insult you, I am perfectly willing to make such amends as you may demand." He continued to avoid Dhawan's eyes and turned one quarter away from her, so as to give her as much personal space as possible. "I understand," she mumbled in response. Her reaction was natural, he thought; it was embarrassing to be schooled by a peer.
"Councilwoman Wahne Feurna left because - from our perspective and context - you ignored her clear request to go past a trivial stage of your discussion." He demonstrated Wahne's circular thumb gesture. "This is used by high-ranking individuals. It is something between a request and a demand to start substantial discussion. As far as I saw, you handled yourself well during the initial stage - I think your culture possesses a similar opening ritual. When you ignored the thumb gesture, she added an elbow signal, like so." He paused. "I'm afraid that at that point, you were already in … what's the expression... troubled waters. In an Asalooq of comparable rank to yours, the councilwoman would have expected a discreet apology for not noticing or ignoring the thumb gesture, but I suspect she would have waived that in your case if you had started the next level of the discussion. Not reacting to the elbow gesture, however, was comparable to… well…" He struggled to find a human equivalent, and only found a Starfleet one. "To ignoring Captain Peña when he met you in a ship corridor and asked about the EPS system's status. It's not a crime - like if you ignored the Captain on the bridge - but it's extremely rude. You essentially expressed the sentiment that the Councilwoman could beg all she wanted, that she was too worthless for you to speak to." He slightly raised his hands in an apologetic gesture. "I'm sorry, Ensign, for speaking to bluntly. Do not believe that this is easy for me - but I believe it is my...no, let me say this properly: our duty to face this situation as best we can." There was no warmth in his voice, but at least he managed to keep any disdain out of it - for now.