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“Have you heard of the planet Fandeln?”
Danise asked the question wearing a subtle smile. Her eyes were twinkling.
Her Vulcan captain, Sovak, responded with an info-dump.
“Fandeln is the fourth planet in the 11 Aquarii system, inhabited by a pre-warp civilization…and therefore off limits.”
“Well, off limits to Starfleet, for sure. But we’re…,” she placed a hand on Sovak’s shoulder, “not Starfleet.”
“Danise…,” Sovak began to protest.
“You said you needed a vacation,” the Human continued. “Come on, it’s a peaceful agrarian culture. And it’s matriarchal, so we won’t be harassed. They have a yearly fair in the administrative province where all the best food is served to visitors from the other provinces. You just wander around all day, observe the people, and eat. They say it’s the best food in the quadrant. And, added bonus for you, my Vulcan friend, it’s all vegetarian.”
Danise had learned in their time together how to read Sovak’s body language. She could tell she was making headway.
“Well,” responded Sovak, “it does sound nice. But the Prime Directive….”
“Look, I’ve got it all figured out. Since C’Mal and Qwaas can’t pass for humanoid, they’ll stay in orbit on the Talon. If there’s any trouble…we step out of view and zing, bang, they beam us up.”
Sovak contemplated.
“I guess as long as we remain inconspicuous and don’t contribute to any cultural contamination, it should be fine,” she said.
“Fandeln,” cheered Danise, “here we come!”
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The humanoids of Fandeln, some two hundred million in total, were highly infertile and had never experienced the burden of overpopulation. They inhabited a temperate, verdant continent. The other continents, one desert, one ice-covered, and one volcanic, were largely uninhabited.
Danise and Sovak beamed down wearing the clothing of the distant southern province: thick white blouse, heavy tartan-patterned skirt, and a flowing white headwrap, which allowed Sovak to conceal her Vulcan features.
The ground was wet from a recent downpour, and their boots were soon very muddy, but otherwise the weather was sunny and placid. They wandered, first listening to music played on long, box-like silk-stringed instruments, then they traced the circumference of the fair by riding in a cart pulled by husky animals that looked like overgrown capybaras.
Before leaving the ship, they had replicated a small bag of the local green-gold coinage. Danise handed over one such coin so they could play a ring toss game.
After Sovak tossed a ring and missed, Danise cried out, “You can do better than that!”
“I know I can,” the Vulcan admitted. She had gained skill in several areas after her recent extended mind-meld with the Klingon Krath, and aiming at distant targets happened to be one of them.
Sovak took her last ring, kissed it, and then flung it effortlessly onto the farthest, highest prong. The surrounding Fandeln children jumped and hollered with joy. The elderly lady minding the game shook her head cynically, then presented Sovak with a small stuffed winged lizard as a prize.
“Oh my god, you won a dragon,” laughed Danise.
“It’s a gavlak,” corrected the old woman. “I’m pretty sure they have gavlaks in the southern province.” She pursed her lips, before adding, “Nice hair.”
“Thank you!” Sovak replied, taking the comment at face value.
Her comm badge vibrated beneath her blouse, and, stepping away from the natives, she answered.
“We just realized there is another ship in orbit of Fandeln, a large one,” said C’Mal. “It’s been hiding using plasmonic cloaking. We noticed it because it moved into a lower orbit.”
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” replied Sovak. “I mean, we’re here to people watch. Someone else probably had the same idea.”
The two former Starfleet officers happened upon a musical group performing in a clearing, with a huge ring of dancing couples rotating around them. Danise grabbed Sovak and they waltzed and turned clumsily with the other Fandeln until both collapsed on a bench, exhausted. Danise bought two fermented beverages in ceramic cups, and they sat and watched the other dancers twirl as they drank.
“Sovak, when are you going to tie the knot with C’Mal?” asked Danise.
“You are referring to betrothal?” asked Sovak.
“Yeah, that’s what ‘tie the knot’ means. I mean, you’re carrying her baby.”
“Technically,” said Sovak, “this is neither my body, nor her baby, but I know what you mean.”
Danise scoffed.
Qwaas, sounding agitated, comm’d from orbit.
“A formation of landing craft have just appeared over the planetary limb and are heading toward the capital city—er, town—village. I think they must have launched from the cloaked ship.”
“What?” Sovak appeared dubious.
In the sky, a collection of black dots swelled into approaching flying craft.
“I can beam you up,” suggested C’Mal.
“No, we’re in a crowd,” objected Sovak, peering into the sky along with the other Fandeln.
Multiple sonic booms shook the ground, frightening the revelers.
“I think it’s too late to preserve this pre-warp civilization’s innocence,” argued C’Mal.
“Two wrongs don’t make a right,” countered Sovak. “Can you tell who the intruders are?”
“No idea,” C’Mal reported.
The dozen sleek black craft screamed toward the crowds and began to strafe them using streams of explosive plasma. Danise and Sovak were both swept along with the throng, then were pulled into a subterranean structure by some natives. Inside, it was dark and the air was chilly.
“This is the ice house,” a Fandeln male explained. “It should offer some protection.”
The ice house rattled and shook for half a minute while they crouched within. A Fandeln female then confronted Sovak and demanded, “Why don’t you do something?”
“What am I supposed to do?” asked Sovak, bewildered.
“We know you’re aliens. Can’t you help us?”
Sovak and Danise glanced at each other, astonished.
The male explained, “Your tartans are both backwards…and no Fandeln has that color of hair,” he explained, pulling away Sovak’s head covering and revealing her Vulcan ears. She remembered that she had just died her hair a fiery auburn.
Danise responded to this revelation by retrieving a Type 1 phaser from the lining of her carry bag. “Easy to hide,” she noted, passing the small weapon to Sovak, “difficult to aim.”
They heard the rising pitch of an attacking craft’s engines approaching. Sovak crawled up through the ice house opening to take aim at the dark shape as it passed overhead. The glowing phaser beam followed the fighter precisely for several seconds; the craft burst into flames and began to trail smoke.
“Damn!” yelled Danise. “Nice shot!”
The hostile craft dipped slightly, swung around, and sailed overhead again, this time expelling a cloud of acrid smoke and sparks. The flaming projectile slammed into the ground and skidded to a stop.
The remaining enemy craft dashed away, going supersonic as they passed over the horizon.
C’Mal comm’d: “The intruders are returning to their orbital carrier. Now can I beam you back?”
“But I want to see who it was that was trying to kill me,” replied Sovak, observing the smoldering wreckage. “Guess they didn’t foresee a counter-attack. Probably regrouping. C’Mal, call in any favors. I think we need an actual Federation presence here.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
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The unconscious alien they retrieved from the wreckage was vaguely insectoid, bipedal, with four manipulative appendages. Its thick outer shell was dark and prismatic. Blue fluid was bubbling from fractures in its abdomen as they carried it on a stretcher to the hospital.
The man from the ice house accompanied them. His name was Grinel Toldeun, and he happened to be the governor of the province.
Sovak, Danise, and Toldeun were discussing Fandeln cuisine when the alien stirred on his mattress of straw, dug an appendage under his chest plate, and produced a hand weapon, which he aimed at the three.
“Oh,” said Danise, shocked. “I did not see that on the scan.”
The alien, disconcerted and confused, peered about and spoke disjointedly. The universal translator carried by the two women kicked in immediately.
“You—you speak my language?”
“Uh, yeah,” said Sovak.
The injured pilot tried to rise from the sickbed. His abdominal wounds audibly cracked open and again the bubbling blue liquid was extruded. The pilot cried out in pain and collapsed, his weapon clattering to the floor. The others cleaned him up and again tried to seal his wounds.
“This is a silicone-based molecular glue,” Danise explained to the incapacitated alien. “You’re going to have to heal from the inside out. If you move, you’ll open your wounds again.”
Toldeun offered the alien a clay cup of water.
“It’s water,” said Sovak. She added, just so there was no confusion, “Dihydrogen oxide.”
The alien poured the liquid into his orifice and gurgled a bit.
“Where are you from? And what are you doing here?” asked Sovak.
“We are from the Empire of Qolpdi’a. And we are here,” the alien stated breathlessly, “to conquer. I had hoped the fear produced by our initial attack would bring about your capitulation, to avoid any further bloodshed.”
Danise, recognizing the name Qolpdi’a, activated her tricorder and began searching the Talon’s databanks.
“You should return to where you came from,” suggested Sovak.
“Not possible. The journey here lasted hundreds of years, during which we existed in a desiccated, anabiotic state. Our bodies would not survive another such journey, and the additional centuries that would pass due to time dilation would alienate us from our own culture.”
Sovak gasped. “Oh my god. You’re a pre-warp species.”
Danise handed the tricorder to Sovak, whose face fell upon reading the first paragraph of the article on the Empire of Qolpdi’a. She had the Talon’s computer translate the article into the alien’s language—a dead but well-studied language—and handed the tricorder to the alien.
The alien scanned the text, which scrolled before him in projected form, without comment or reaction.
“It is a lie,” he finally decided.
“Stop and think about this,” said Sovak. “That’s a two hundred thousand word article, with footnotes, on the demise of your people’s culture. Do you think we just cobbled that together in the last five minutes for your benefit? Your people went extinct hundreds of years ago. Your star entered a period of extreme inactivity. The lower temperature caused air pollution to stabilize in the air and block the sun, causing the whole planet to freeze. Everything died.”
“If that is true,” the alien rasped, “then I do not wish to live.”
“But your people aren’t extinct,” argued Danise. “You’re here, now. You don’t need victims or enemies, what you need are friends.”
Toldeun stepped forward and stated, “We would welcome your kind, not as enemies, and not as conquerors…but as friends and equals.”
“And the Fandeln are the most hospitable of hosts,” added Sovak.
The alien, shaking a bit, seemed to struggle.
Danise scanned him with her tricorder and decided, “Low blood sugar.”
Sovak shoved a handful of Fandeln cake into the alien’s orifice.
“Better?” she asked.
The alien seemed to grow even more emotional.
He replied, “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”
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The Qolpdi’ans in orbit were preparing for another assault. But once they caught sight of the enormous Galaxy-class ship the Federation sent, the fight went right out of them.
A peace treaty was signed; two pre-warp cultures took the first steps to create a new culture.
The festival picked up where it left off, with Qolpdi’ans striding in wonder among the crowds of Fandeln. Each insectoid had been gifted a universal translator by the Federation, in an exception to the non-interference rule.
Sovak and Danise watched all this from the sidelines.
“They’re so different,” said Sovak, watching Qolpdi’ans and Fandeln interact, “yet not incompatible.”
“They’ll be good for each other,” decided Danise. “And Starfleet will be there to keep the peace, if not. ‘Where large boats float, small boats float assuredly.’”
“A rising tide floats all boats,” added Sovak.
“How is that relevant?”
“I don’t know. But I’ve been wanting to say it for some time.”
“Sovak,” said Danise, “I think you need a real vacation.”
END