“We appreciate the report, commodore,” Garmuh said dryly.

James looked at his brother and Thaustin, not really feeling Garmuh’s enthusiasm or appreciation for their efforts. Sitting up further in his chair, the commodore leant forward. “Representative Garmuh, I hope your government appreciates this and our efforts to help repair your ship as a chance for both of our people to reset our previous relations and forge a new peaceful path.”

  Garmuh just sighed. “What is it with you and your eagerness for us to become allies?”

“No one said anything about an alliance,” Thaustin interjected. “The commodore mentioned the possibility of us resetting things between us.”

“Well, your attempts are futile,” The B’omar said from where he sat. “This is a minor diplomatic overture on your behalf.”

“Minor, maybe, but it’s a step we want to take and would like to understand how we can take things further with you and your people, Representative,” James remarked, keeping his tone as diplomatic as possible.

“I will, of course, pass your request on,” Garmuh stated.

“Thank you,” James replied. “My squadron and I are remaining here in this region of space to explore it. Please let us know if we can do anything to show our intentions of only wanting peaceful coexistence with you.”

“Oh, you’re staying?” Garmuh asked, his tone changed to one mixed with disgust and weariness. “With the final apertures collapsing soon, I thought you would return to your Federation.”

“No, we plan to remain in the region, as we have other means to travel between our home and the Delta Quadrant,” Thaustin answered after seeing the commodore’s mood change after hearing the way Garmuh replied to him. “Is that an issue for you?”

“No, just please keep five lightyears away from our borders,” Garmuh stated coldly.

“That’s a real shame,” James expressed. “We were hoping to exchange scientific ideas and research with you.”

Garmuh’s constant roundabout of expressions changed again. “Why would we want to do that?” He asked, confused.

“A peaceful exchange of scientific thinking is a great way of forging new relations among people,” James answered. 

“We’re not interested, commodore,” Garmuh stood up. “Your Cardassians may have destroyed our patrol ships and killed our fellow B’omar, but they did us and many others a huge favour.”

“Oh?” James probed.

“They closed off these underspace corridors and stopped anyone else from entering our territory,” Garmuh said, his tone reflecting a mix of relief and satisfaction. He looked at his associate and gestured that it was time for them to leave.

“Commander Thaustin, please escort our guests to the transporter room,” Horatio spoke for the first time since the meeting started. 

“With pleasure, sir,” Thaustin said, rising from his chair and indicating for the B’omar to follow him out of the room.

Once their guests had left, James looked at his brother. “So much for trying to make nice with the B’omar.”

“It was a good try, J-P, but you were never going to break the likes of Garmuh in being over the top in appreciating our efforts in saving them and repairing their ship,” Horatio told his brother as he got up and went over to the replicator. He immediately ordered them both a mug of tea each. 

“It was worth the shot,” James uttered as Horatio returned with their drinks. 

Handing one mug to James, Horatio retook his seat. “However, you were right about the Cardassians; they will be seen as the saviours in closing the new set of corridors.”

“Let’s just hope the B’omar, at some point, do turn their idealogy around and become a bit more open to us,” Horatio stated before sipping his drink.

“I’ll issue orders for everyone to keep at least six lightyears away from their borders,” James stated. “I really don’t want to deal with them anytime soon.”

 “Makes sense,” Horatio agreed. “Talking of dealing things we don’t want to deal with, don’t we want to move ourselves to be with the others to monitor the Cardassian’s retreating?”

“We do,” James confirmed. 

Tapping his combadge, Horatio told his pilot to get them underway back to the rest of the squadron once their B’omar guests had left. “The sooner we can get underway, the happier the commodore will be,” He added.

“We’re on it, sir,” Jarata answered. “And tell the commodore he’s welcome to join us for tonight’s Risian Beach Party in Holodeck Two.”

“Don’t worry, Rubon, I’ll ensure he attends!” Horatio chuckled as he closed the channel with a tap to his combadge.

“A Risian Beach Party?” James questioned. “I didn’t bring anything to wear for such a gathering.”

“James, would I be a great little brother if I let you turn up at such an event without the right outfit? Don’t worry, you can borrow something of mine,” Horatio said as he finished his tea. “Now, am I calling Admiral Jaret, or are you?”

James sighed. He had to speak to Jaret again before their aperture to Kovar closed. “That joy is mine, thanks,” James replied.

“And so, with the Cardassians withdrawing back to the Alpha Quadrant, we’ve not detected any other of their ships in the region,” McCallister said confidently at his desk in his VIP quarters. The commodore had retreated to his own personal space to call Vice Admiral Jaret. “Gul Jacet is nowhere to be seen.”

Nodding solemnly, Jaret couldn’t say much about McCallister’s report. “James, you’ve done well avoiding an intergalactic war between the Cardassians and the B’omar,” She told him with some confidence. “Plus, finding the Caatati a place to settle with others of their own kind is another positive.”

“Is that because we’ve quietened Governor Thompson about having the Caatati living on Kovar?” McCallister teased.

“Something like that,” Jaret smirked. “And I heard from Starfleet Intelligence an hour ago, they’ve confirmed that Jacet is back on Cardassia.”

“Wow, he doesn’t mess around, does he?” McCallister remarked.

“What do you mean, commodore?” 

McCallister sat up in his chair. “He told us quite adamantly that he would be home before we knew it.”

“A man of his word,” Jacet said. “However good he is at his job, it doesn’t excuse the action his wing took in attacking the B’omar or threatening the Caatati too.” 

“No, it doesn’t,” McCallister agreed before he decided to move their discussion on. “Well, admiral, we’ll be ready to get underway with our exploration assignments of the Swallow Nebula region.”

“I take it you’ve got everything you need?”

McCallister nodded. “We have ma’am.”

Sighing, Jaret had already expressed her disappointment with McCallister about the collapsing of the underspace corridors. “We’ll stay in touch with our data streams, but as you know, it will only occur every month due to your location.”  

“We know, ma’am, but I think we can do some good here,” McCallister said, trying to sound more positive. “Bexa is eager to follow up with the Krenim, and we’re going to attempt to contact the Serosians.”

“And the Srivani?” Jaret asked, the concern itching in her tone. They were the one race that Starfleet Intelligence were the most concerned about. The fact they were able to conduct covert research on the Voyager crew back in 2374 without them noticing it before the crew started to suffer from genetic inflictions. They were one of a few species that the Federation were concerned about from the Delta Quadrant. They sat just below the likes of the Voth, Species 8472 and the Devore. 

“Nothing yet, but we’re keeping a close eye out for them. But I wouldn’t mind speaking to other races first to see what they know about them,” McCallister shared. 

Jaret nodded at that idea. “Sounds wise,” She approved. “Good luck; I look forward to receiving your next set of reports. Safe journey, commodore. Deep Space Nineteen out.”

McCallister wished her goodbye as he leaned back into his chair. He looked over at the clock display on the side of his console and realised that he had a few more hours before he needed to be at this Risian Beach Party. He sighed and wondered if it was appropriate for a commodore to attend such an informal social gathering. Then he stopped and realised that his brother wouldn’t let him get out of it. 

He was now starting to regret using the Constitution for this mission. Maybe he should have transferred to the Triton, the Bellerophon, or even Orion. Perhaps his new job did have some perks, he considered before he looked over at the brightly coloured shirt his brother had left him lying on his bed, along with the very skimpy-looking white shorts. He knew if his sons and wife were here, they would be laughing at him.