It was a fifty-fifty chance.

Sit in the captain’s chair or stand behind the CONN.

Captain Elbon preferred not to overthink the decision. It was best left to intuition. On this morning, choosing the chair was a boon, or else his legs would have given out beneath him.

“I am Leraya Qhen, the Ascendant, keeper of the crystal canticles. They only sing for me,” said the holographic representation of a young Dabari on the viewscreen.

Elbon knew her. Down to his bones.

He recognised her the same way he would recognise his own face. Here he was on the other side of the Beta Quadrant and the shape of her face evoked a long-forgotten memory. Did she look like his sister? The way his sister looked back then, the last time he saw her, when she was fourteen years old?

Leraya stated, “I speak to you as the voice of Dabar. Hear us. I demand you starbeasts release your hostages into my care aboard the throneship Celestane.” Even over the subspace transmission, her voice filled the bridge with the same hollow resonance as the other Dabari they had met.

It wasn’t her. Leraya didn’t look like his sister.

The texture of her rose skin was like chalky clay, with veins of quartz shining through the surface. Instead of hair, translucent veil-like fronds circled her face. Even among those differences, there was a faint resemblance, but it was the eyes that convinced him. With irises like red jewels, her eyes maintained a conviction Elbon had never seen in his sister.

Leraya clearly hadn’t been born on a refugee planet that undermined every sense of certainty she might ever have known.

He took a deep breath.

“I am Captain Elbon Jakkelb of the Federation starship Constellation,” he said. He spoke slowly, in the tone he had perfected for his counseling patients. He offered each thought like a lazy wave lapping on a sandy shore.

“We represent the United Federation of Planets: a fellowship of over one hundred worlds working together to enrich the lives of all of our people. When we received your hail, we came directly to return your people and your test ship to your care.” –After mirroring her own words, Elbon leaned forward– “I’m curious about these starbeasts you speak about?”

“My mother taught me,” Leraya said, “that only the starbeasts can cross the great distance between stars. My calling is to protect the inheritance of my world.”

When Elbon spoke again, he called upon the musicality he relied upon as a ranjen in the Bajoran faith. He could never explain the rhythm, but he felt it in his chest when it was time to express with emphasis and when to let silence speak for him.

He said, “My crew and I come from an arm of the Federation called Starfleet. We are explorers, seeking to expand our knowledge and, more importantly, our understanding. The only thing we wish from the Dabari is friendship. Your planet’s resources are yours to keep. Selfishly, I would love to see your world with your own eyes, but we can develop a friendship over subspace if you would prefer.”

He squared his shoulders and said, “Or we can return your people to you and never return. I leave the choice with you, Ascendant Leraya Qhen.”

Fear thrilled through Elbon’s stomach, icy and acidic. He had spun the gokto wheel and he left his fate to chance. Even through a flimsy holo-comm, he trusted Leraya. Completely. Dangerously. His rational mind screamed about how little she had revealed about herself, but his pagh held certain. She would make the right choice. He knew her.

Leraya Qhen received his words and offered no hint as to her disposition. She didn’t nod. She didn’t blink. She stared.

And then she said, “Once my people are safely returned, it is my right to appraise your provenance. I act as an advisor to Dabari’s Unified Protectors. They will accept my judgement. Would you be put to the test?”

“Ascendant, we will submit ourselves to your judgement,” Elbon affirmed. “You are welcome to inspect my ship, our entire squadron. You will find us to be the explorers I described. We have at our disposal a matter-energy conversion device that allows for instantaneous transp–”

At that, Leraya tilted her head to the left. “Yes, we have subspace transporters too.”

He winced before he could stop himself.  Underestimating the technological capabilities of the Dabari was an ensign move.

Before he could apologise, she said, “Captain Elbon, you and your retinue will personally deliver the crew of Vathen’s Promise to me. We will transmit the coordinates when the preparations have been made.”

Without any further fanfare or diplomacy, Leraya’s image vanished from the screen. Through the transparent viewscreen, the throneship Celestane drifted like a gothic spire in the void. Ground upon a saucer with underslung warp nacelles, five spired towers of differing heights rose from the saucer. Between the irregular buttresses and bridges between the towers, it filled the screen as an asymmetrical fortress. The hull plating was pearlescent grey, and every plate looked adorned with gold filigree.

For the moment, Elbon kept his own counsel regarding his intentions for the diplomatic team. More than that, he had no desire to hear Yuulik’s opinions on the uncanny familiarity he felt for the Ascendant.

“Now that you’ve been running your scans,” he asked of the bridge crew at large, “what’s your assessment of her ship?”

Security Chief Ache was the first to speak, eager to please as ever. She swiped away the holographic screen blocking her from Elbon’s view, as she said, “Their tactical systems appear no more advanced than Starfleet’s in the twenty-third century. Alone, the Celestane offers little threat to us.”

That should have offered small comfort to Elbon, but his stomach still burbled acidically.

Excitedly, Cellar Door’s mechanical-form hovered above the flight control seat. “It looks like the Palais de la Concorde in space!”

From the engineering station behind him, Nune provided his report with a verbal buoyancy that communicated respect for any other engineer. “I see signs of refits and new hull plates. Overall, spectrographic analysis suggests the superstructure is well over a hundred years old. Their computer systems appear equivalent to multitronic circuitry.”

“It sounds like a symptom of a stagnant culture then,” Elbon said. He knew about people, in general, that direct questions from a captain could cause a delay as they considered a perfect response. However, he also knew that people, in general, loved to correct someone who was wrong.

Nova took the bait first.

“If we’re the first accused starbeasts in Dabari history,” Nova posited, “that throneship could have been sleeping in drydock for a century.”

And then Yuulik swooped in to her defence.

“She’s exactly right, captain,” Yuulik said, even though she made a different point of her own. “We can’t narrow to any assumptions about a singular ship, especially one of ceremonial status. The Dabari military ships, those Unified Defenders she mentioned, could be far more advanced.”

“Let’s be fair, the captain wasn’t making a gross assumption based on a singular piece of information,” Nune interjected. For all the kindness in his voice, Elbon couldn’t quite make out who was being evaluated more: the Dabari’s level of advancement or Elbon himself.

“Vathen’s Promise was constructed within the last year,” Nune said. “It may not have the ceremonial design or the crown beacon of the Celestane, but the underlying technology is much the same.”

Elbon’s gaze was drawn to what Nune had referred to as a crown beacon. It was a glowing green orb, hanging above the throneship’s tallest spire. That otherworldly glow reminded him of a far more personal experience. A spectral green glow over disjointed time. Words of wisdom from the most unlikely sources. He felt dizzy for a heartbeat as his consciousness expanded. He gripped his armrests.

The Orb. The Orb of Prophecy and Change. That’s where he’d seen her face before.